Author's Note: Luckily, I've been able to get it edited sooner than I thought I would. Thank you to everyone reading this, it is good to know that some people are reading and following this as it makes a big difference. Any reviews would be much appreciated as I would love to know your thoughts and any improvements I could make. Well...enjoy!

Chapter Three

Frances was sat in the library on Sunday afternoon, catching up on the first week's homework and going over some incantations that interested her. Her brown hair hung down around her face and over the edges of her piece of parchment, shielding most of her face from view. It was long but plain and she often wished she had the ability to do something with it but on the few occasions that she had tried to style it, it had never come out the way she had hoped and hence she tended to leave it at as it was most of the time. She had left the rest of the Gryffindors behind in the Common Room. Most of the girls were about to head out into the grounds to soak up some of the late September sun whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione had been sat together discussing a plan of some sort. Frances had decided that she needed a bit of peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, she would not to be able to enjoy the tranquil surroundings of the library for long.

"Edwards," Malfoy said greeting her smugly. He strolled up to her table by the window and leaned his hands onto it.

"What is that you want?" Frances asked him coarsely, impatient for him to leave her alone. Draco Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and replied: "Fun, I guess."

"Fun? Since when did Draco Malfoy find it 'fun' to hang out with a Gryffindor like me?"

Draco laughed. "Don't be ridiculous Edwards. I'm not attempting to befriend you. I thought I had made that pretty clear over the past six years." Although, in reality, he thought to himself, he hadn't really had anything to do with her at all. "No, I'm here for my own fun, not yours."

"Well, I'm not here for you to poke fun at, no matter how superior it makes you feel," she threw back at him as she gathered up her bag and flung it over her shoulder. She felt silly for suggesting that he might want to spend time with her as she knew this was far from the wishes of the both. "Good-bye Malfoy." Without looking back, Frances walked away down the corridor towards the staircase. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as she realised he was following her.

"Would you just leave me alone? You've already spoilt my afternoon peace so well done, congratulations, you have succeeded in annoying the heck out of me" she said through her teeth before taking off down the staircase. She wasn't feeling scared of Malfoy today. She had spent too much time with him and his frustrating personality over the past few days to be anything but infuriated by him. He followed after her down the stairs.

"What is it with you?" she cried, "Can't you take a hint? Go...away!" She couldn't remember the last time she had been this angry and she didn't know why she was becoming so irate about Malfoy teasing her as he would always do to any Gryffindor whenever he got the chance.

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Well, I think you should," she was getting desperate now and running out of comebacks. She was realising that their argument was being witnessed by other students passing by but nervousness still ceased to kick in. "What do you want with me anyway? You're a Slytherin and a pompous Pureblood who cares for nobody but himself."

"And you wonder why we don't like you," he replied.

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and whirled round to face Draco Malfoy who had been following closely behind. "Look, what was last night about?" Looking up into Draco's resentful eyes, Frances saw that he was not smirking at this. In fact, he looked solemn and troubled all of a sudden.

"What's it to you?" he replied harshly, his eyes narrowing and now avoiding her gaze. "Maybe I had business to attend to." He was trying to cover it up with a bit of Slytherin mystery and charm. Frances, however, was not susceptible to this.

"Well, for one, I covered for you," she almost shouted in reply. Many of the other students looked over towards them, puzzled as to why they would choose each others' company. She looked down, trying to deflect attention away from them having become aware of the volume of their voices. Malfoy displayed a less than polite gesture to a group of third year Hufflepuffs who had been staring.

"You did?" he asked surprised, although smug nonetheless. His eyebrows rose suddenly and he stared at Frances more intensely as though he was trying to figure something out.

"Yeah," she whispered in response, embarrassed.

"Oh, well good," he said arrogantly. Frances furrowed her brow at him before realising that this was Malfoy she was dealing with.

"So, I have a right to know," she pursued.

"I don't think so, Edwards, too much for your stupid little Mudblood brain anyway." At this he brushed past her and started off down the corridor.

"Come back," she called. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a look which wrote 'no way.'

"Malfoy," she hissed, picking up the pace. She didn't want to run after him and cause a greater scene that had already been made. By this time, he had managed to mingle amongst a wave of students all making their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Nevertheless, he was one of the tallest and so Frances was able to spot his tall blonde head above the crowd. He had just turned a bend when she was able to catch up with him, having ducked and dived her way through the streams of students.

"Malfoy, I deserve to know!" She was not walking alongside him, almost running to keep up with his fast pace.

"No, you don't, can't you just leave it already?" This time he was angry.

"Maybe I'll just go and tell Professor McGonagall that you weren't ill and you just skipped. How would you feel then?" She could feel antagonism welling in the pit of her stomach.

"You told her I was ill?" Malfoy asked, "Ha, now that's lame. Can't say I'm surprised though; Gryffindors may have the brawn, but when it comes to brains I guess you got the short end of the stick." He knew this wasn't true; in fact, he resented the fact that a muggle born could be as clever as him and, in some subjects, even more so. He trumped her in potions though so that made him feel a bit better.

"You should be pleased that I said something," she replied in outrage, "But I'll go and tell her I lied. I'm not scared of that."

"Is that blackmail, Edwards? That's low for you," he leered.

"Maybe...it is," she threatened. She wasn't comfortable with how this argument had progressed but she was too curious to not press him for answers.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed out loud, "I don't need this."

"What are you hiding?" she asked quietly. It wasn't an accusation really.

"Why do you even care about me?" he hissed, stepping close to her and cutting off the light that had illuminated the corridor. Like her, he had lowered his voice and his levels of anger. "Like you said yourself, you're a Gryffindor, I'm a Slytherin; we're different."

"Not so different," she spoke softly, just loud enough for the sound to float into his ears. She didn't know why she had said that, but all she knew was that it felt true. In the distance the sound of rain could be heard and the whistle of the wind was growing more strongly.

"Why are you so strange?" he asked.

"Me? Strange?" she fired up again slightly, "What about you? You disappear and refuse to tell anyone what you're doing, you harass people you barely even know in the corridor and follow them to the library for God's sake!"

"Well, if you want me to go away that much then why you don't just leave me alone beats me!"

"You were the one following me about ten minutes ago! But fine, I don't even care anymore, just leave me alone!"

"Fine with me, I wouldn't want to spend any more time with you anyway."

...

In the Slytherin Common Room, later that evening, Draco thought back over the confrontation he had had with Frances. In particular, he couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said about them not being so different. Of course they are different, Draco tried to reassure himself but he hadn't convinced himself.

"What's wrong, Draco?" asked Blaise Zabini who had just entered the Common Room and was taking a seat opposite Draco Malfoy. Draco shrugged in reply before picking up an evening copy of the Daily Prophet.

'Family of Four Muggles Killed, Suspected Death Eater Involvement," read the headline news story. Draco felt a jolting feeling in his stomach as he read it. He couldn't bring himself to read the entire story.

"Draco? Is it true?" Zabini began.

"Is what true?" he replied roughly.

"That you're one of them now?"

"Since when was that your business?"

"Sorry... just thought we might be friends, you know?"

"Well, maybe I am. But I don't think the Dark Lord would be pleased to find out about your curiosity would he? I don't think he does friends," Draco replied and slammed the newspaper down. He knew he was pushing one of his only friends away but he couldn't help himself. Ever since he had taken the mark on his arm, he had doubted everything. An ordinary person might try to open up and confide in a friend but Draco knew that he was not ordinary and that this was not a situation that anyone could empathise with.

He thundered up the stairs and entered his dormitory. Luckily for him there was no one else there. He threw himself onto his bed and lay with his face into his pillow. Damn, Edwards, he thought to himself, she's making me doubt myself. Truth was though that Frances had not caused Draco to feel this new sense of uncertainty about his beliefs and his mission; she had only highlighted it to him.

...

Frances and Draco had very little contact with one another over the next few weeks except for when it was absolutely necessary. They left each other alone as much as possible but they did not stop wondering about one another. Draco watched her when she was not looking, trying to figure her out and, more importantly, asking himself why he was drawn to her. Frances, meanwhile, was noticing the change that had happened in Draco over the summer. Whereas Harry, Ron and Hermione had been discussing his involvement with Voldemort, France was becoming aware that Draco was not as proud as usual, but was keeping himself to himself more often.

The next time they had a proper encounter was during the middle of October. It was a Wednesday evening and Draco was on prefect patrol. He wanted to throw in the towel and give up his duties but he knew that would look suspicious. It also gave him an excuse to be out of bed after curfew and therefore he was able to make more trips to the Room of Requirement to work on his mission. This evening, however, he was actually performing his prefect role correctly, wandering the corridors, looking for any students. He was just walking past the owlery when his wand light shone onto a pair of trainers. He lifted his wand to uncover the student's face to find that it was Frances Edwards. She squinted and covered her eyes as he was shining the light into her face. He dropped the light.

"Eurgh, it's you, Edwards," Malfoy said greeting her, "now where might you be off to at eleven twenty?" He always relished getting Gryffindors in trouble, "Think I might have to drop some points."

"I don't care, Malfoy," she replied, hoping that she could get passed him quickly.

"Seriously, where are you off to?" he asked again.

"The owlery, I have to send a letter."

"At nearly half eleven?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, I forgot to post it earlier and it must get there by tomorrow morning."

"Well, what is it that can't possibly wait?"

"I don't have to tell you that, Malfoy."

"You do if you want to get in there." His back was to the door and he was obviously shielding it so that she couldn't pass without his permission. It was the power of the situation which gave him great joy.

"Just a payment of subscription to a magazine, nothing you would be interested in," she eventually gave in and replied.

"Well, why can't you just use your own owl?" he asked, wanting to continue the conversation. He had been patrolling the corridors alone as he didn't fancy spending the entire evening with any of the other prefects, even Pansy Parkinson who did his head in.

"Because," she breathed out loudly, "I don't have one."

"You mean your stupid muggle parents wouldn't let you have one. Or maybe they're just too poor." Frances didn't say anything to this and even Draco realised that that had been a little uncalled for. He didn't apologise because Draco Malfoy never apologised but he stepped to one side to allow her to pass instead.

She began to climb the steps to the top of the tower and noticed that Draco was following her. He watched as she selected a bird and tied her envelope to its leg. She opened the window to let it out and turned around to see him standing only a few feet away from her. The moonlight was pouring in the window and reflecting onto his face. She could see all the different colour shades in his grey eyes and all the lines around his face. She saw that he was looking tired and they had only been back at school for six weeks. Frances sensed that something was very wrong but she was too frightened to bring it up in case she got involved in another row and he did decide to dock points from her house; despite saying she didn't care about him doing so, really she couldn't stand to lose. She also feared his temper whilst they were at the top of a tower all alone at nearly midnight.

Draco, meanwhile, was taking in her features. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the dim light. It was evening and it was dark so she had not worn her glasses. He thought she looked pretty like that, but soon regretted thinking that a Gryffindor, and a Muggle-born one at that, was anything less than downright ugly.

Still, he looked at her and said, "You're not wearing your glasses."

"I know," she almost whispered, "I left them in my room."

They stayed there for what felt like five minutes but was in fact only about forty seconds. Suddenly the stirring of one of the owls in its cage made them jump.

"You best be going now then, Edwards," Draco said to her, "Now, that you have sent your letter." Frances nodded and walked past him in the direction of the stairs. She looked back at him but could only just make out his outline from where he was standing. Hurrying down the spiral staircase, she opened the door at the bottom and left it open for him as she knew he would follow soon after.

Frances made it back to her Gryffindor dormitory without any further detection from either student prefect or teacher. As she snuggled down into her bed sheets and drifted off to sleep, she felt a sort of happiness arouse in her that she hadn't felt before. It was not elation or delight but rather contentment and ease.

...

It was now the third week in October. Frances and Draco had had less arguments although that is not to say that they didn't have any; Draco always took advantage of any chance to annoy her. However, the next time they met was a very different mood altogether.

It was nine in the evening and an hour away from the sixth years' curfew. Frances was taking a walk down an empty corridor alone when she came across a figure sitting in a window seat with his head in his hands.

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed as she got closer and realised who it was. It was nearly dark outside so their main light was the candles along the corridor. When he heard her voice he threw his head back quickly. She noticed he was holding a piece of parchment in his hands. He was looking down at the floor, refusing to look at her.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at what was in his hand.

"None of your business," he snapped in reply. Frances decided she would need to tread carefully here. She took a seat next to him, so that there existed only a few feet between them. After five or six seconds had passed, he turned to her, looking confused.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Does it look it?" he said to her harshly, making her feel silly for having asked the question.

Frances noticed an envelope on the floor. She picked it up. It only had one word on it: Draco. So it's a letter, she thought to herself.

"Who's the letter from?" she asked him, holding the envelope out to him. He snatched it back quickly.

"I said, it's none of your business!"

"Is it from your family? Has something happened? Do you...?"

"Man, you're so quiet normally but once you get going, there's no stopping you, is there?" he interjected, "Look, there's nothing you can do. And if you breathe a word of seeing me like this, then you'll pay for it."

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," she insisted, "And, I know about family problems. My parents still find it hard to accept who I am."

He laughed gravely, "This is nothing like that, Edwards. Honestly, you couldn't even begin to understand the first thing about anything. Do you have a crazy aunt who kills people just for the hell of it? Didn't think so."

"No," she said quietly, "But I can imagine and I know I wouldn't like it one bit."

Frances then realised that she had moved closer to Draco and was close enough to reach out and put his hand on his shoulder. She felt tempted to do so but resisted.

"Edwards, you're wearing your glasses today," he said to her, changing the subject of the conversation.

"Yes, I need them to see," she retorted.

"But you didn't need them to see in the owlery last week," Draco Malfoy pointed out.

"No, but I told you, that was because it was the evening. I don't need them to see everything, just for concentration."

"So, you are concentrating now then?" he asked cheekily.

"Yes."

"But you weren't the other night?" he was teasing her and she catching onto it.

"Perhaps I was distracted anyhow," she said, playing on.

"Is that your attempt at flirting, Edwards?" he asked and she coloured with embarrassment.

"No!" she cried but in all honestly, it had been. It had been an unconscious effort. She didn't fancy Malfoy and she wouldn't flirt with him, she told herself.

"Well, bye Edwards. I have things to be doing. And, like I said, don't breathe a word to anyone about anything I've said, okay?"

She nodded in acknowledgement of this deal before returning to her own Common Room for the night. Looking at her watch, she realised she only had five minutes to get back or risk detention. Frances rarely broke curfew but this year looked to be very different in more ways than that.

Author's Note: The next chapter definitely won't be up for over a week but once I have access to my computer again, I will try to update frequently to catch up on a bit of time. Hope you have enjoyed it so far.