Teddy's POV

"So?"

The suspense was killing me. If I didn't know what had happened in the next two seconds, I was going to explode. After all the anxiety I'd suffered this past month, she was going to have to give me more than a quick "it's sorted".

She glanced up at me, shuffling her bag on her shoulder. It was heavily loaded with more books and parchment than I'd thought her capable of even lifting, and every time someone jostled into her in the corridor she gave a small wince. I guess she was trying to make up for all the classes she'd missed. Which seemed extreme given she'd already done all the reading till the end of the year.

"So what?"

Sighing I grabbed the bag off her, fixing it on my free shoulder and pulling her along beside me. "Don't play coy madam. I want to know what happened? With Jorkins, Bursnell- everything."

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. "I told you what I was going to do Ted. Everything went smoothly. Perfectly even."

"And Bursnell?" I pressed, needing more certainty than her vague response. It was her second day back, and I was trying to be patient and let her come to me, but the suspense was eating at me. I suppose the mere fact Bursnell hadn't blown us up was an encouraging sign.

"Shh. Here she comes."

I steeled myself, watching warily as Bursnell approached us in the corridor. She pretended not to see us in front of her. Where once her eyes would have lit up at the opportunity, she now kept them fixed beyond us and indifferent. Beatrice was walking beside her, talking rapidly, but Bursnell definitely wasn't listening.

She seemed the exact same as always; not a hair out of place, her make-up done perfectly. And yet something was different.

Her smirk was gone.

Just as she passed us, just as I was sure she'd pretend not to notice us; she halted slightly, finally lowering her gaze to meet Vic's. She seemed uncertain of what to say for a minute, but then took a sweeping glance through the corridor and spotted everyone's eyes on her.

She took a cooling breath. "Bryce."

Vic raised a brow, and seemingly this meant something to her. "Seriously? That fast?"

A flicker of a smirk appeared on Bursnell's face, and she seemed more like her usual self. "I'm going to pretend you didn't seriously just question that. Honestly, this isn't the same as sending one of your Gryffindor pygmy-puffs-"

I made a clearing sound in the back of my throat and she flicked her gaze to me, her smirk intensifying just a fraction. "What are you doing about Dea-"

Vic took a step forward, silencing her with a meaningful look. Bursnell's gaze again flickered to mine and understanding lit her eyes. "Oh."

"Not here. Ted, can I catch up with you at lunch?" Vic turned questioningly to me, already pulling Bursnell along behind her and hardly waiting for a reply. I stared after her, open mouthed.

WHATTHEFUCKWASHAPPENING?

I glanced awkwardly at Beatrice in their wake, who looked just as baffled as I did; and then, seeing little other option, walked away.

Vic's POV

"I'm not gonna lie, I have very little on him. I don't even know where to start." I admitted sheepishly, sitting cross-legged on my bed. Deaton was something of an enigma to me. Even during the handful of team parties I attended with Zabini (under duress), all of which were heavily alcohol fuelled, Deaton had kept to himself and said very little. I remembered one time entertaining the possibility that he could be a like-minded individual; that maybe he could be tolerable as a companion on these outings. But any attempt at conversation just provoked more blinking in response and awkward mumbles. Bursnell rolled her eyes.

"Sloppy."

I narrowed mine at her. "I was preoccupied."

She smirked. "I know. Alright, well I do know him, not that it helps. He's the most boring creature to ever walk the planet. Seriously. I doubt he's ever so much as skimped on a library fine."

Her smirk was as cool as ever, and her relaxed air gave the impression of being at ease with the conversation. But my gaze slid to her left hand, which was fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Nervously. As soon as my eyes lingered, her hand stilled, resting smoothly on her lap.

In the interest of our new diplomacy I decided not to comment. Suppressing the urge to make a catty comment did not come naturally to me, but I'd had an unmistakable gnawing in my stomach from the second I'd closed the door on our room, sealing us in together. I was nervous too.

"So blackmail's out?"

I swept my hair neatly behind my ear, anxious not to dwell on my own nerves. What was I afraid of? Was it even nerves or just… awkwardness?

She shrugged, her smirk growing. "Does the blackmail have to be true?"

"Preferably."

"We'll keep it as a plan B so."

"So… bribery. What would entice Deaton to turn on his team mates?"

She yawned lazily, settling into the rhythm of scheming and leaning back on her bed, reclined onto her elbows. Unconsciously I mirrored her movement, propping forward onto my own elbows and kicking my feet up behind me. The silence stretched as we both cast our gaze around for inspiration.

"Doubt it would take much. Being the boring, unexciting specimen that he is, he doesn't really seem to form close bonds. Doubt he even likes us all that much." Bursnell said quietly, still thinking hard about what angle to work.

"But he must like playing? Right? Why else would he turn up?" I pressed, looking over at her searchingly.

Burnsell shrugged again, thinking it over. "Now that you mention it, I've not ever really seen him overly enthused by the sport. He just sort of… keeps to himself."

I sighed in frustration. "Not much to go on so."

"Not really. But honestly, he's not your concern. He's so apathetic, if everyone sits, I'd bet he will too. Not the type to be the only one standing."

"I know. So on to the big question. Cass."

The name hung in the air and we both lost ourselves in a moment. I found myself thinking back on all the arguments we'd had over him. All the hurtful words we'd hurled at each other. The horrible things we'd done. I wondered fleetingly what it had looked like from her side of fence.

"Mmmn." She murmured in agreement, shattering my thoughts. "What about trying to get to him through Mercier?"

I shook my head. "Won't work. She won't go for it, and even if she did, I'm not convinced she holds that much sway over him."

She smiled at that. "Silly tart."

I allowed a smile too.

"Right. Friends?"

"Nope. He hasn't got any real ones. Or at least ones that he cares about." She scowled a little, and then cast her gaze around for more inspiration.

I was floundering too. What angle could we possibly approach this from?

"So all that matters to Cass is… Quidditch?"

She nodded. "And his reputation."

"Right… That doesn't leave us much."

"Nope."

Well shit. We both sat in silence for a beat.

"Well… what if we just did nothing? What's he gonna do? He can't play a match on his own. He can't make the rest of you play?"

Bursnell frowned. "No I suppose he can't. But… won't it look bad? Your whole plan depends on proving to McGonagall that the whole rivalry is behind them. Won't that be quite obviously untrue if he does it begrudgingly? Or worse, refuses to do it at all?"

I nod, the thought having already occurred to me. "I just mean as a last resort, you know? If all else fails."

She pursed her lips. "No way. I'm sorry, but the two of us? Thwarted by that dim-brained dungbat? I don't think so. There's a way. We're just not seeing it."