Of Silver and Green

Ch. 14 Alliance

Draco awoke the next morning to the feel of something soft and furry shifting against his neck. He opened one eye and was shocked to see a black-streaked red ball of fur huddled beside him. He sat up carefully, so as not to disturb the sleeping fox and shook his head to rid himself of his sleep-induced stupor. Memories of last night came flooding back.

Draco's meditation had gone exceedingly well, and Brynne had told him, after hearing the details, that the training would probably take less time than she had originally suspected. Draco figured that they had been sitting on his bed, Brynne discussing what her training had been like, when they had fallen asleep. Draco glanced again at the ball of fluff nestled in his blankets. He had yet for an explanation of this. He ran his fingers lightly over her fur. He couldn't recall her transfiguring into Scorch.

Draco gently lifted the fox into his arms and marveled at the fine texture of her coat. She woke at being moved, baring her teeth in a yawn as she stretched against his chest. Then, realizing what she was, she extracted herself from Draco's arms and transfigured back into her human form.

"That happens sometimes. I'll have dreams in which I transfigure, and I actually will. Hmmm..." she muttered, seeing her surroundings for the first time. "I don't recall falling asleep in here, but I must have. Morning, lovely!" she said, kissing his cheek. "Well," she commented, glancing at her watch. "We're up in time for breakfast, if you'd like to join me."

"OK..." Draco replied, sounding a bit dumbstruck.

"Great. I'll be back in twenty minutes. Get a shower and some clean clothes." With that, she dashed from the room. Draco's mouth was hanging open. Brynne had been awake for less than five minutes, and already she was acting as though she had had several cups of coffee.

Draco yawned and got out of bed. He stripped and, clad only in a towel that clung dangerously low on his hips, stalked into his bathroom. He splashed some cold water from the sink on his face and then turned on the shower, as hot as he could stand it. The towel was so loose it dropped to his ankles as he stepped towards the shower. He shrugged and stepped in, under the steaming spray.

He showered quickly and, turning off the water, idly picked the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his slender body. He left the bathroom on a quest to find clean clothes. He pulled open his closet, examining its contents carefully. Draco finally selected a pair of black slacks, a white shirt, and a forest green vest. He snatched a pair of boxers and a tie from a drawer. He dressed quickly, gazing at himself in the mirror. No could say he didn't have impeccable taste.

Draco was just putting on shoes when Brynne sashayed through his door. She frowned. "You're not ready yet?" Noticing his hair, which was distinctly floppy and un-styled, she grinned. "As such, your punishment shall be to go to breakfast before fixing your hair!" she exclaimed gleefully.

"No," he said simply, picking up his wand and comb and deftly smoothing his hair back.

"Spoiled prat!" she cried, pouncing on him, trying to muss his hair.

Draco dodged gracefully and, straightening, asked, "Are we going to go eat or not?" with a superior smile on his face.

Brynne pouted. "Fine," she replied. Draco laughed at her show of indignation.

"Oh come on!" he cried, "You're not that upset!"

Her face broke into a smile. "No, I'm not. Now let's go meet Blair." She led him, their fingers intertwined, to the Great Hall.

As Brynne led him through the large doors, Draco stopped in shock. The room was almost empty, save for a group of Gryffindors, which unfortunately included the Three Stooges, a few Hufflepuffs, and a lone Ravenclaw, the one they intended to sit with. 'But surely we aren't going to sit at the Ravenclaw table,' Draco thought to himself as he was led over to the small dark-haired girl.

"Good morning," she greeted them, not looking up from the parchment she was writing on frantically. "Pardon me, if I am not as polite and talkative as usual, but I had to rewrite my Potions essay. I just wasn't happy with it."

"But I told you it was fine," Brynne said. She had been expecting this. No matter how good Blair's essays were, she always rewrote them, especially assignments for Potions.

"Mind if I read it?" Draco asked, sitting beside her.

Blair looked at him, shock playing over her delicate features, as well as a hint of apprehension. "Um, sure, if you want to," she answered finally, handing him her parchment. She watched him anxiously as his eyes flickered over her small concise writing.

"This is really very good," he said thoughtfully, looking at her intently.

"Really?" Blair asked.

"Yes. Compliments rarely come from my lips, you know," he replied smirking. He then looked back at her parchment. "Although, this part about the belladonna..." he began, trailing off as he and Blair began poring over the essay.

Brynne looked on with amusement, taking a seat across from Blair as she summoned a house-elf. "Can I have a mocha and some scrambled eggs?" she asked, still watching the two opposite her. They were in deep conversation over how to extract arsenic form apples. The elf scurried away as Brynne continued to survey them.

Suddenly, she felt the distinct sensation of eyes, boring into the back of her head, and knew immediately to whom she could attribute this most unpleasant feeling. She turned and glared at Potter, her eyes turning into green ice. Then, to her abject horror, Potter winked at her, eyes sparkling gleefully. Was this a game to him? 'Torture the Slytherin'? If so, he was very good, but she would win. She turned just as a huge plate of fluffy yellow eggs and an oversized mug of mocha were set before her. Straining for dignity, Brynne struggled not to seize the cup of steaming caffeinated goodness and drain it in one gulp. Looking very composed, she carefully took the mug in her hands, sipping it slowly, relishing the rich, chocolatey flavour.

Brynne looked up from her mocha as she heard the door to the Great Hall swing open. She turned, wondering whom it could be. The usual breakfast crew was already here, and with one extra. She saw Blaise Zabini step confidently through the doorway and then falter almost imperceptibly when he realized there was no one at the Slytherin table. His eyes scanned the rest of the room, his gaze falling on the trio sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

She watched as the tall brunette sauntered across the room towards them. Brynne was usually a decent judge of character, but she didn't know what to make of Zabini. As he approached their part of the table, she examined his hazel eyes, trying to discover his motives, but she couldn't.

He came up beside her. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked in a smooth, casual voice. Blair and Draco looked up quickly, noticing Zabini for the first time.

Brynne glanced at her companions quickly, judging their dispositions. They both had confusion in their faces, but had nothing in their expressions to indicate that they did not approve. Turning back to Zabini, she replied, "Sure," and scooted over slightly on the bench. They were all silent as Zabini requested Belgian waffles and orange juice from the house-elf that materialized beside him.

"Well," he said turning back to them and flashing a smile. Don't let me put a damper on your conversation."

"We were just talking about the Potions essay," said Draco, glancing sidelong at Blair. "What did you think of it, Zabini?"

His eyes lit up. "Personally, I find the topic of poisons fascinating. I must have written six inches more than was required. And," he added, leveling eyes with each of them in turn, "if you don't mind me using your first names, you can call me Blaise. But, if memory serves, I don't think we've been introduced. Blaise Zabini. Blaise to my friends, Zabini to most people."

"Blair Richelieu," replied the girl to whom he had been speaking, offering her hand. She reddened slightly, but not unpleasantly, when he kissed it instead of shaking.

"Pleased to meet you, Blair." He looked down at her work and glanced back up at her, with an alarmed expression on his face. "You aren't just beginning work on that essay?" he asked. "It's due today, and Snape has mercy only on Slytherins."

"No," she answered, handing him the copy she and Draco had been scrutinizing. "This is my rewrite. That is my initial draft."

Blaise took the scroll and scanned the page. "This is excellent. You have no need for revision. And I really like how you included hemlock. I would never have thought of it."

Blair searched his face for traces of insincerity and found none. "You really don't think I need to write it over?"

"No," he replied, "you don't. By the way, are you any good at Arithmancy?" he asked. "I could really use a tutor."

Brynne smiled as Blair nodded. It seemed her friend was becoming more sociable. And with a boy as charming and handsome as Blaise Zabini, Brynne could hardly complain. "Well, it seems that Draco and I have to go back to the dormitories to get our things before Potions. But since you both appear to have your books, you're welcome to stay here and get better acquainted," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at Blair, who blushed furiously in response. "Ta-ta!"

"What was that about?" asked Draco outside the Great Hall.

"Well, it was quite obvious that they were interested in each other," Brynne replied grinning. "Honestly! Sometimes you are oblivious!" she exclaimed, pulling him down the corridor to the dungeons.

"Did you ever think that maybe you're just intuitive?" he shot back defensively.

"Yes, but still, even you should have gotten that one!"

"Fine, whatever."

~~~***~~~

He was staring again. Did he not realize the danger that he was putting her in, or was that simply part of the game? She looked desperately to Snape for help, glancing frantically at Potter, whose eyes never left her.

Professor Snape looked at her, and seemed to understand the cause of her anxiety. He nodded slightly and turned frowning to Potter. "Mr. Potter," he said sharply. "Perhaps you would like to tell me the properties of the herb I was just discussing?" At this point, Granger's hand shot up, as usual, and Potter shook his head. "Then perhaps you would like to inform the class as to what is so interesting about Mr. Malfoy that you found it necessary to he staring in his direction so intently that you were not paying attention to my lecture?" Brynne watched as both Draco's and Potter's eyes bulged; Draco's with restrained laughter and Potter's with humiliation. Potter shook his head again. "Thirty points from Gryffindor," Snape said carelessly. "Ten for not paying attention, and twenty for not answering my questions."

The Gryffindors groaned, Weasley loudest of all, as the Slytherins snickered. Only two students were silent. They were scowling at each other, each daring the other to be the first to look away. Finally, Potter won, as Brynne looked away and started talking to Draco without so much as a backwards glance.

Brynne watched Potter out of the corner of her eye as he stared at her for a few confused seconds before turning his attention back to his neglected notes. "So, we're starting an arsenic draught today?" she directed to Draco.

"Yeah," he replied. "It looks fairly simple."

"Alright," Snape addressed the class. "If that has been quite enough for the interruptions, you have permission to begin brewing you potions. As I circulate to examine your work, I will collect your essays. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter had better have theirs."

~~~***~~~

Another successful Potions class ended, Brynne, Draco and Blaise headed to the Great Hall for lunch. Blaise waved at Blair and sat with Brynne and Draco at the end of the Slytherin table. Draco watched as a barn owl dropped a bundle of letters in Blaise's direction. Then he saw a much smaller bird swooping down towards him. His father's peregrine falcon landed on his shoulder, digging its talons into his flesh as it proffered its leg. "Thanks," he muttered, taking the letter from the pouch on the bird's leg. As soon as Draco had the letter, the raptor took flight. 'That bird is as cold as my father,' Draco thought to himself, gazing at the small elegant writing of the letter sullenly. There was no reason for contact from his father, so this could only be an indication that he had heard about what Draco had done and was reprimanding him. His father was not so uncouth as to use a howler.

Draco opened the envelope carefully and pulled the parchment from it with a flourish.

Draco,

To my dismay, I received a letter from you acquaintance Gregory Goyle yesterday. He informed me of the unpleasantness. I advise against this lapse in judgment. You need powerful allies, and the ones I have chosen are more than suitable. There was also mention of a girl. Mr. Goyle seemed to disapprove and thought she had cursed you. I doubted this, knowing first-hand of your resistance to them. Nonetheless, I would like to know the name of this girl, since Mr. Goyle neglected to mention it. And furthermore, rectify this situation immediately.

~Lucius Malfoy

Draco snorted. He had been expecting something like this, but shorter, more direct, and, well, angrier. He knew his father must be furious. He could tell from the impersonal signature. Lucius usually ended letters to Draco by signing "Your Father". But Lucius must have been thoroughly incensed.

"Your father?" Brynne asked, jarring him from his thoughts. He nodded. "And he's angry," she added solemnly. It wasn't a question. It was a death certificate.

"Yes. It seems Goyle informed him. Probably embellishing upon the facts."

Blaise looked from Brynne to Draco. "Am I missing something here?"

Draco looked up sharply. "Have you not heard? Why, with all the rumours floating around, I'm quite shocked you don't know!"

"Oh, I've heard the rumours. I just don't put any weight in things unless I hear it firsthand. So, are you saying there is actually truth in the rumour that you are currently forsaken and friendless, excepting your girlfriend, her best friend, and me?"

"Actually," Draco replied, "most of that is the truth, except that it was I who forsook my friends, but do my ears deceive me, or did you just say you consider me a friend? What have I ever done that would make you see me as a good friend?" asked Draco incredulously.

"Nothing really, except that by abandoning them, you have shown that you are looking for something better. And also, by befriending people like Brynne and Blair, who are most definitely good people, you have shown that you are not like your former friends." Blaise was met with a skeptical look. "I know what you're thinking. You believe I mean to use you. I assure you, it isn't so. I have no reason to. I do not need your position, nor do I want it. I merely see you as a kindred spirit." He held out his hand. "Do you agree?"

"I do," replied Draco after a minute, taking the other boy's hand. "Anyways," he continued, glancing down at the letter disdainfully, "this is just a token of my father's annoyance. It appears he means to change the course of action I have taken, since it does not correspond with his own plans for me. Also seems to want to assure that the girl I'm seeing is worthy to be seen in the company of a Malfoy, let alone be made one." Draco blushed slightly at this, but Brynne smiled widely.

"A fine predicament you've gotten yourself into. I've heard from my father what happens when the great Lord Malfoy doesn't get his way," Blaise said with a smirk.

"Not something to joke about," Draco said seriously. "I'm not looking forward to responding to this. Has to be worded very carefully, to be sure. On that note, I think I'm going to leave you and see it done. I'll meet you in Arithmancy. I believe we have it with the Ravenclaws," he said winking at Blaise, who reddened slightly before winking back. As Draco got up to leave, he felt light pressure on his hand as Brynne squeezed it comfortingly. She looked up at him searchingly. "I'll be fine," he whispered loud enough so that only she could hear. "Everything will work out." With that, he gave her a peck on the cheek and left the room.