Star-Cross'd

The students filed wordlessly into Transfiguration that day, knowing and dreading what awaited them. Draco had just had yet another incident with Raspberry in the hall; a silent glare as they passed each other, and he was in no mood for all of this.

After receiving another lecture on getting into so much trouble on the first day of school, McGonagall pulled out a parchment. "When I call off your name, sit down in the desk I assign you. And I'd better not hear any bellyaching, or you will find this experience even less enjoyable," she ordered, peering at the students over the top of her parchment. She looked back down and cleared her throat.

"Patil and Goyle," she said, putting her hand down on the first desk. The two cast sideways glances at each other and then moped over to their seats, sat their belongings down and slid into their chairs like molasses.

Draco was beginning to grow impatient. Everyone had been called out of his house besides him and Vincent, and he glanced over at the mudbloods and saw that only Harry and Raspberry were left, and his heart sank.

Oh no, he thought, I refuse to sit next to Ms Freestyle-Walking-in-the-Hall, he thought.

"Malfoy and Riordan," McGonagall called out, and he might as well let out a melancholy wail.

He stepped forward, but did not sit down. "Professor, I refuse--"

"Please. Have a seat, Mr Malfoy," she ordered, giving him the most intimidating look he had ever witnessed her give a student. He glared at her for a moment longer (A Malfoy must never appear frightened by head of Gryffindor House) and then finally sat down.

Deirdre--he still had no idea how to pronounce that horrible name--sat down next to him a moment later, and he refused to make eye contact with her. Maybe if I act like the Gryffindor scum isn't seated next to me, she'll go away, he thought hopefully. After about half an hour into the class he cast a sideways glance, trying to be inconspicuous.

Damn it, still there, he thought angrily.

Of all the irony that he should be stuck sitting next to the one Gryffindor he loathed entirely other than Potter...well, Potter or Weasley. Or Granger. And that God-awful Colin Creevy child with his camera surgically attached to his hand. And Neville was annoying too... Dammit, the point was that he was stuck next to this complete Deirdre idiot. How did he know she was an idiot? Simple really: she's a Gryffindor.

Deirdre wasn't paying any attention to what McGonagall was saying, and she doubted that anyone else in the room was, either. She was too busy drawing all over her parchment that was supposed to be used for notes. At the moment, Draco was getting his head bitten off by a giant snake. Over it, she wrote ...but I shouldn't get my hopes up and smiled wryly to her self.

After a moment, she barely turned her head and glanced over at him. The prat was looking down at his own parchment, on which he was angrily scribbling something. She leaned her head ever so slightly in his direction in an attempt to see what it was, but he jerked his head up and glared at her.

"What?" he growled under his breath.

"Mr Malfoy, Ms Riordan, perhaps either of you would like to give us the answer?"

Draco glared. "I'll tell you what I'd like to give you--" but Deirdre stomping on his foot cut him off. He bit his lip hard, and Deirdre shook her head to answer for him.

The little wench! She had just scuffed up his shoe and mercilessly bruised his baby toes! But McGonagall took no notice to his distress.

"I assume you don't wish to land yourself another detention, Mr Malfoy?"

"Listen here, you--ARGH!"

Her heel had just connected with his foot again and he flinched violently in his seat. McGonagall didn't seem to notice her violent foot stabbing, and her expression had a hint of confusion in it. She arched an eyebrow. "Silence, if it's not too much to ask of you," she said, though the look on her face told him that she wasn't making a request.

Yes, it is too much to ask of me you filthy Gryffindor, he thought angrily, and then turned to Deirdre who was looking at him with a satisfied smirk on her face.

He offered her a rude finger gesture in return and decided to save his yelling until after the old wench was done with her lecture. Who did she think she was, stepping on Draco Malfoy's foot like that? Heaving a sigh he folded his arms and drowned out the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice.

It seemed like hours until the class was dismissed, and the students ran out of there as quickly as they could. Draco hauled himself to his feet and stood up. Deirdre was still busy putting her things away, bent over with her back turned to him. As he walked by, he put his hand on her books and slid them off the side of her desk, and it fell onto the floor and the papers spilled out.

Her head shot up in surprise, and she looked from the book to him. She narrowed her eyes and he smiled smugly. "Your book must've tripped," he said casually. Her face turned the color of her hair, and the few remaining Slytherins in the room burst out laughing. Everybody laughs at Draco's jokes. It was rule number thirty-three of Slytherin Code.

As he walked out the door, turning back and smirking at her again just for effect, he had no idea that this was the start of a Great War.

* * *

(Cue music: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better from Annie Get Your Gun)

(I'm sorry; I couldn't help myself)

I'm superior, you're inferior
I'm the big attraction, you're the small
I'm the major one, you're the minor one,
I can beat you shootin', that's not all.

It was just little things first. Like trying to trip each other in the hall, or writing harsh things about one another in the air with magic (luckily they were never caught for this). Or of course the ever-so-classic taping signs to each other's backs when they weren't looking. They both got a laugh out of their own tricks because they always managed to embarrass the other as planned.

Anything you can do, I can do better.
I can do any thing better than you.
No you cant.
Yes I can
No you can't
Yes I can
No you can't
Yes I can, yes I can.

They stayed small and simple, until one day in Transfiguration. It was almost a month into school by that time. Draco broke his quill while rapidly scribbling down insults about Deirdre onto a parchment and then holding them up for the class to read, and opened his bag to get a new one. As soon as he did this, a hundred spiders crawled out and he leaped on top of his chair like a little girl. He pulled out his wand and immediately lit them on fire and killed all of them.

Anything you can be I can be greater.
Sooner or later, I'm greater than you.
No, you're not.
Yes I am.
No you're not.
Yes I am.
No you're not.
Yes I am, yes I am.

Unfortunately, this had happened in McGonagall's class and Snape wasn't there to believe his story that Deirdre had put the spiders there and deduct house points from Gryffindor. Instead it was his house that lost them because of he using his wand. He glared over at Deirdre, who was trying to look as innocent as possible while bursting out in laughter.

I can shoot a partridge with a single cartridge.
I can get a sparrow with a bow and arrow.
I can do most anything.
Can you bake a pie?
No.
Neither can I.

But he got her back. Oh yes, he got her back.

Anything you can sing I can sing louder.
I can sing anything louder than you.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can, yes I can.

It was the next day, actually, back in Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was in the middle of instructing them on how to transfigure any small animal into a rock. She had just demonstrated turning a crow into a black pebble, and turned to face the class. "Now. I want you to switch animals with your partner, so you have theirs, and do the same."

Anything you can buy, I can buy cheaper.
I can buy anything cheaper than you.
Fifty cents.
Forty cents.
Thirty cents.
Twenty cents.
No you can't.
Yes I can, yes I can.

There was a sudden outburst from the entire class, but Ron's was the loudest. "I can't trust her!" he exclaimed, looking at Pansy like she was an insect. She glared at him, but a collective "Yeah!" sounded from the other students. Professor McGonagall looked completely awestruck.

For a moment she just stood there. Finally: "You think you can't trust them, you say?"

Anything you can dig, I can dig deeper.
I can dig anything deeper than you.
Thirty feet.
Forty feet.
Fifty feet.
Sixty feet.
No you can't.
Yes I can, yes I can.

The students each shook their heads no and she was silent for a moment more. She had a look of consideration on her face. After a few minutes, she stood up straight.

"Stand up," she said. The students looked at her for a moment in complete silence. "Come on, stand up now," she repeated and they slowly got to their feet.

I can drink my liquor faster than a flicker.

I can do it quicker and get even sicker.
I can live on bread and cheese.
And only on that?
Yes.
So can a rat.

She shook her shoulders. "Well, since it seems that none of you can find it in yourselves to trust one another, we will just have to fix that. I want you to all turn to the right."

The students did so warily, a few of them realizing what she was going to do. She lifted her chin. "This is called a trust fall."

Anything you can reach, I can go higher.
I can sing anything higher than you.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can, yes I can.

There was a loud groan from the students; she wanted them to do a trust fall? Was she mad?

Quite possibly, a few of the students reminded themselves.

"Silence!" McGonagall ordered, interrupting their thoughts. "I want the person on the left to hold out their arms before them. You must be ready to catch them."

Deirdre's eyes widened and she got a sinking feeling of sudden realization. Draco was supposed to catch her. After what she did this morning, she knew there was no way. She slowly glanced over her shoulder and saw that he wasn't even looking at her.

Anyone you can lick, I can lick faster.
I can lick anyone faster than you.
With your fist?
With my feet.
With your feet?
With an axe.
No you can't.
Yes I can, yes I can.

Professor McGonagall silenced them again. "Now. The person on the right, make sure that you are within three feet of them. Go on now." The students miserably scooted backwards, closer to their catchers. She made sure that everyone was properly placed, and the catchers all had their arms out and were ready.

"Begin falling," she said. There was a pause, and nobody moved until Pansy Parkinson swayed back too far and ended up falling. Surprisingly, Weasley caught her with a disgruntled look on his face. Everyone assumed he only pulled through because McGonagall was watching him, and as her eye fell on them, more and more students slowly fell into the grasps of their catcher. And surprisingly, nobody was dropped.

Any school where you went, I could be master.
I could be master much faster than you.
Can you spell?
No I can't.
Can you add?
No I can't.
Can you teach?
Yes I can, yes I can.

Deirdre turned to look at Draco again, and he wasn't smirking, surprisingly. "Are you going to fall or not?" he asked.

"Are you going to catch me?" She raised an eyebrow.
He sighed, "Well, McGonagall's eyeing us right now so I suppose I'll have to."

I could be a racer, quite a steeple chaser.
I can jump a hurdle even with my girdle.
I can open any safe.
With out being caught?
Yes.
That's what I thought.

She paused and then turned to look at the Professor. He was right; she was looking right at them with a rather impatient expression. Everybody else had already finished. Deirdre took a deep breath and let her self fall...

Any note you can hold I can hold longer.
I can hold any note longer than you.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.

...Right on to the floor.

Yes I can, yes I can.

The Slytherins burst out laughing, and McGonagall drew in a sharp breath. "Mr Malfoy! Fifteen points from Slytherin!"

Deirdre looked back up at him, her face scarlet. He was doubled over in laughter. "I'm s-sorry Professor! I was dis - distra - oh, sod it, that was hilarious!"

McGonagall was kneeling next to Deirdre from her spot, asking her if she was okay, and making her all the more mortified. The Slytherins--and some of the Gryffindors--were still howling with laughter. She glared back up at Draco again and reached into her pocket to put her hand on her wand, but Professor McGonagall saw and stopped her.

"Silence, all of you!" she bellowed, and their laughter died down to a single giggle here and there. She ordered them all back to their seats and they did so. She went back up to the front of the room and leaned on her desk again.

"As punishment," she said, "For Mr Malfoy's unwise acts, I will be giving you all an extra assignment." Deirdre was about to shout how unfair it was for the Gryffindors to have an assignment when they didn't do anything at all, but the Professor seemed to sense this and shot her a warning eye and continued. "I will be giving you a list of questions. We will start off with simple ones, such as your birthday. You are going to spend time with your new partner on your own--" moaning ensues "--and ask them questions about themselves. You have until the end of the week, when which you will both stand in front of the class and read off your findings."

There were more groans and whines from the students, but she seemed to not even notice. "If you fail to turn in your assignment, you will each serve another day's worth of detention for me, during which you will finish and then read them off to the class the next day."

She turned to the board. "And if I hear any more complaining your amount of questions will double," she said, and they were immediately silent. Waving her wand at the board, a list of five questions appeared. She turned back around and looked expectant.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Write them down."

Deirdre restrained herself from grumbling and pulled out a quill. Draco did so too, careful to check for spiders before plunging his hand in the bag this time. They wrote down the questions, already starting to dread what awaited them at the end of the week.

* * *

The next evening after they had finished dinner, Hermione, Parvati and Deirdre headed down to the Library. During their meal, they all agreed to head down there and finish the third essay that Snape had assigned them on the Vereormus Potion.

Deirdre looked down at her parchment she still had from the day before in Transfiguration class. "What kind of questions are these?" she asked, and held it upside down and tilted her head to read it, as if it would somehow make more sense that way. "They're all so corny."

She was right. This weeks questions were:

When is your birthday?

What is your favorite subject in school?

What are your favorite pastimes?

Parvati sighed angrily and flipped her hair. "At least you guys don't have someone completely brain dead for your partner," she said, referring to Goyle. "If I don't start today I won't finish in time; it'll take me a week just to get a clear sentence out of him."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Actually, I have to deal with Crabbe." She let out a groan and folded up her parchment. "Maybe all four of us can get together and finish them in here. Or some place very populated. I really don't want to be alone with him."

They headed into the Library.

Deirdre snorted. "And I don't want anything to do with that great prat, Malfoy." She crumpled up her paper and threw it over her shoulder.

Parvati was staring at her. "Are you kidding me?" she exclaimed, earning a stern glance from the Librarian. She mumbled a quick apology to her and lowered her voice. She leaned over to Deirdre, and Hermione realized that this would be Parvati's gossip time and left to go find some books.

Parvati ignored her irritated sigh, and said to Deirdre, "Draco Malfoy, by vote, has claimed the title of most shaggable Slytherin."

Deirdre hid a surprised choke behind her hand and tried to look like she wasn't completely overthrown by her little fact.

"Only in Slytherin? Come now, Patil." Draco's voice made them jump a mile. They whirled around in their seats and saw him standing there with his arms folded. Their faces went scarlet; Parvati's in embarrassment and Deirdre's in anger.

He smiled smugly. "You really should read up more before you go talking about things. I believe it's the entire school."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Deirdre growled.

He turned his head slightly to look at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Just to ask when we were going to get our little 'get together' finished, so I can get it out of the way. I have better things to worry about."

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure standing in the corner and making remarks about every Gryffindor that walks by must just be exhausting," she said sarcastically. Parvati shot her an awestruck look.

He sneered. "You have no idea how hard it is to point out every single fault you people have."

Hermione returned with the books and set them down on the table. All heads turned to her as she started flipping through the pages. "Okay, I've only found one that should have it in there, but I think if we..." she glanced up and her eyes landed on Draco, and paused her page flipping.

"What are you doing here?"

He put on a mock-sweet face. "I came to whisk my little Poppet here away, so we could go skip off and sit under the shade of the apple tree, where we can laugh together and talk of memories past." He batted his eyelashes.

Hermione gave him a stony glare, and he held up the parchment. "What do you think I'm doing here?" he retorted.

"We're studying," Deirdre said. "It'll have to wait."

He narrowed his eyes at her in fury. Nobody told a Malfoy that it would just have to wait! This was an abomination! Glancing over his shoulder to make sure the Librarian was watching--which the old bird was--he grabbed onto the back of Deirdre's seat and pulled it out from underneath her. She let out a loud cry and fell onto the floor, and all heads turned to them.

In a matter of nanoseconds the Librarian was at their side. "Get out! You are disrupting others!" she screeched, pointing a bony finger at the entranceway. Draco merely smirked with his arms folded once again. Parvati and Hermione were looking at the two with their mouths slightly open, and Deirdre was glaring up at him from her spot on the floor. She was all too familiar with this angle.

"Touché," he said, smirking down at her.

She glared at him more, trying to suppress her anger. The Librarian was being loud enough to distract her for the moment, and she turned up to her. "But ma'am, I didn't--" she started to protest.

"Out!" she screeched again, and picked up a book and hit her over the head with it. "Out, out, out, out, OUT!"

"OW!" Deirdre shrieked, putting her arms over her head in defense. The Librarian was now attacking Draco with the book, as he tried to swat her away.

Deirdre quickly gathered her things and turned to Hermione and Parvati. "Sorry," she mouthed hurriedly. She grabbed her messenger bag and they both ran out the door, the Librarian chasing after them the entire time.

There was absolute silence in the library. Everyone was staring at them as they reached the door. Suddenly:

"We'll bring you back some notes!" Parvati shouted, standing to her feet. Hermione shot her a look that asked her if she was crazy for yelling like that again, and the Librarian turned to look at her lividly. She immediately sat back down.

"Sorry," she said, and looked around at the other students. "Sorry, sorry," she whispered again, and hid her face behind her hair.

Chapter Three

"Who hired that woman?" Deirdre exclaimed once they were in the hallway.

Draco rolled his eyes. "There's a bit of Dumbledore's brilliance for you right there," he said sarcastically.

She looked down at the skirt of her uniform, which had a nice quarter-sized hole in the back towards the bottom from when she fell off her seat and it caught on the corner. Correction, from when Draco pulled her seat out from underneath her.

"You seem to like seeing me down on the floor a lot," she mumbled.

He turned to her and rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. You know just the way I like it, don't you?" he said sarcastically and she turned a nice shade of red.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she exclaimed in anger.

He smirked again. "It's okay, we all have our fantasies. And besides, who can resist?" He held his arm out in front of him and looked himself up and down proudly.

She glared at him. "You...you're...ugh!" she stammered and folded her arms heatedly.

They walked down to the front doors without speaking, and making sure to keep a good distance from one another. When they reached the doors, Draco opened them and stuck his head out, probably checking for anyone who he didn't want to see him with a Gryffindor.

Deirdre completely ignored his precautions and breezed right past him and out into the open. There were a few students here and there; most of them were wading in the lake, trying to soak up the last of the warm weather before winter came in. They went around the corner of the school and found a picnic table to sit on. Before they got there though, they encountered three Slytherin seventh years: two boys and a girl. They gave Deirdre a disgusted look, but it was covered up by confusion when they saw who was with her.

"Homework," he explained. They still stared at him. "I'm only with her because I was assigned something by the old wench!" he repeated. Apparently they all knew McGonagall by this title and had heard of their punishment, because they nodded understandingly and walked away. But not before shooting Deirdre more looks, of course.

"You might as well get a sign, you know," she said to him as she sat down on the picnic table.

He leaned up against the wall farthest from her. "You know, just because you have no social status whatsoever, doesn't mean that I don't. While it might actually improve yours to be seen around me, it lowers mine for me to be seen with a Gryffindor."

She glared at him, but decided to keep her comments to herself and pulled out a clean piece of parchment. "Let's just get this over with. When's your birthday?"

"December fourteenth," he replied coldly, looking away. She scribbled it down quickly.

"Favorite subject?" she asked, obviously still annoyed with his last comment.

"Potions."

She scoffed, but wrote it down anyway, and he turned his head sharply. "What. Just because you Gryffindors can't respect Snape doesn't mean that we can't look up to him."

"And I can't imagine why we don't," she said sarcastically. "It's not like he takes points away from us for stupid reasons, or yells at us just the same, or--"

"Shut up, damn it!" Draco shouted, and she immediately stopped talking and just stared at him in shock. He looked absolutely livid.

For a long time they just sat there and looked at each other, and Deirdre was clenching her quill so tightly that she snapped it. She searched through her bag and finally pulled one out, both of them still silent. Eventually, she said with her head still lowered and her hair covering her face, "Pastimes?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, but finally sided with "Quidditch and flying."

She wrote it down, more slowly this time, and he pulled out a parchment and quill from the depths of his robe pockets and put the paper against the wall. "Birthday."

"January eleventh."

He didn't turn to look at her. "Subject."

"Study of Muggles."

He nearly choked, and was about to go off on her, but then realized that he was still giving her the cold shoulder. "Pastimes."

She didn't say anything for a long time. When he allowed himself to glance at her, he saw that she had a sort of embarrassed look on her face and she was starting to squirm uncomfortably. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, and finally she spoke. "Writing poetry or music," she said slowly.

This time he couldn't help himself. "Ha! You write poetry?"

"I try," she said coolly, finally meeting his eyes.

He let out another soft laugh and wrote it down. "Going for the depressed quiet kid in the corner of the room, I see?"

She pounded her fist on the table so hard he was sure there would be a bruise. "I'm not depressed!" she shouted, causing a few heads to turn.

He looked shocked for a brief second, but finally smirked that arrogant Malfoy smile and rolled up his parchment wordlessly. He put it back in his robes pocket, never taking his eyes off hers. "Till tomorrow," he said, and walked away.

She glared at his back until he was around the corner and out of sight, and then rubbed the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. "I'm not depressed," she repeated quietly to herself.

Deirdre sat there on the picnic table for who knows how long. All she knew is that when she looked over at the horizon, the sun was behind it. The other students had already gone in, because it was getting cold. A breeze picked up and she shivered slightly.

Standing up, she gathered her things and put the strap of her messenger bag over her head again. She folded her arms and looked over at the wall where Draco had been leaning up against earlier. Quickly, she turned her head away and looked down at the ground.

"Stupid Malfoy."

* * *

At breakfast the next day, Draco was quietly sipping his coffee--yes, he was an addict, but at least he admitted he had a problem--when the owls came in. He didn't even bother to look up as the other students excitedly awaited packages and letters. He knew that he never got anything from home unless something drastic happened, and he couldn't think of anything significant that had taken event lately.

He glanced across the room and saw Deirdre reading a letter. She would smile every now and then as her eyes traveled down the paper, and once or twice she let out a soft laugh. She turned to Weasley--he was seated to her right--and pointed to a particular part on the letter. He looked concentrated for a moment as he leaned over her shoulder and read, and finally let out a laugh. She nodded and said something, and Draco could distinctively see her lips pronounce 'my uncle', and they shared another laugh. The sun was coming in through one of the high circular windows and shining right down on her like some kind of spotlight.

How sweet.

It made him sick.

Suddenly, a silver-gray owl landed right in front of him, nearly missing his coffee. It was fortunate, this miss, because he would have been spastic if he had lost any of his precious caffeine. It dropped a letter in front of him, and he slowly picked it up. It had the Malfoy family seal pressed on it--that's just how rich they were--and he opened it, recognizing his father's handwriting.

Draco,

I hope your search for a link is going well. I haven't heard anything from you so I can only wonder. However, if you haven't started, I should hope that you do so immediately, and follow my orders as best as you can. This is important.

Lucius

PS - Quidditch is coming up. You know what to do.

Draco, with a sullen expression, folded the letter back up and put it back in the envelope. He had been wondering how long it would be until his father would start dogging him to get to work. And he especially loved how he just signed his name, leaving no indication of wishing he took care, or especially indication that he was his father.

But he supposed he was right. He wanted these mudbloods un-allowed to attend school and Dumbledore replaced. He glanced up at the headmaster and was shocked to see that he was already watching him with that same knowing expression that he always wore. Draco jumped slightly in surprise, but quickly turned back around.

Just a coincidence, he told himself. There's no way that he has any idea what my father is planning.

He took out the letter again and looked it over. Though he had no idea what he was planning to begin with. All he had said was that he was going to get the mudbloods out of school. But how exactly was he planning on doing that? And he wanted to try overthrowing Dumbledore? His last few attempts were very feeble and didn't work at all. And what did finding more about Harry have to do with any of this?

Heaving a sigh, he put his letter away for good. He doubted that Lucius was going to tell him what he was planning at all, so he might as well not worry about it.

* * *

"The essays I received," Snape was saying as he circled the class menacingly, "were terrible. The highest grade, of course, was Granger--I mean Hermione." A few Slytherins laughed and Hermione went scarlet. Deirdre rolled her eyes.

"Congratulations to Mr Malfoy for the second highest grade," he said as he placed his paper on his and Deirdre's adjoined desks. Malfoy smirked up at him, but didn't even bother to look at his paper as the Professor handed back the other students' work.

He looked down his crooked nose at Deirdre in a way that told her she had better work harder if she wanted to pass his class. She nervously took her paper and lifted it to her eyes. A D+ was scrawled at the top in thick black ink and she sighed and let it fall back onto their desk. She wasn't able to study the night before because she ended up staying outside the entire night, and had to conjure something up off of Hermione and Parvati's papers when she remembered she hadn't finished; which was half an hour before they went to Potions class.

"Hmm. Better luck next time." Draco tilted his seat back and rested his heels on the desk. Deirdre ignored him and just stared ahead. He glanced down at her paper again. "And how exactly do you pronounce that name of yours?"

She continued to look ahead, but spoke to him this time. "Dear-dra," she said quietly. He looked at her for a moment, appearing to be weighing the options.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse," he said. She finally spun around and looked at him angrily, but the Professor started lecturing again and she slowly turned back around to face him.

"Tonight's essay will be the second-to-final one before we start working on your potions. If you haven't figured it out yet, your partners will be whom you are seated with."

A few of the students moaned, but he singled out Harry, as he usually did. "Mr Potter, is there a problem?" he asked, speaking through lips that barely moved as he always did. Harry looked back at him, completely emotionless, and finally shook his head. "Good," Snape said. "Because I wouldn't want to have to assign you even more homework. I'm sure your classmates wouldn't enjoy that again."

Deirdre heard Draco laugh from her side and she clenched her fist. She didn't understand how some people could be like that and get their joy from seeing other people in a rut.

Finally, the bell rang, and they were dismissed to go to lunch with their final essay. Of course it required five pages, but they escaped without any other homework, thanks to nobody getting him in a worse mood.

On the way out, Draco saw Vincent was busy teasing Ron about one thing or another. His ears were growing redder, and he could see Hermione walking next to him and repeating "Just ignore him, just ignore him, he's not worth it..."

Oh, come on! does this Draco impostor get all the fun?

He decided that Deirdre as a target to harass would never get old, and he scanned the room to find her. She was leaving, almost to the door, and he sped up to reach her. Suddenly, he stopped.

She was walking with Potter.

They were both laughing and carrying on despite the bad moods they had both obviously been in moments before. He saw Harry reach up and playfully put his arm around her neck in a headlock. They were still laughing, and he dragged her out of the classroom, she stumbling behind. Viktor had apparently left Weasley alone for the moment, and he and Granger were walking behind, smiling and shaking their heads. He heard the redhead say something about "bloody flirts, both of them" and Granger nod her head and smile back. The two were about halfway down the hall before Harry released her and she just as playfully punched him in the arm.

Draco's smirk turned into a perfectly evil smile; oh, it was perfect.

He had just found the link.

Father,

I think I have an idea for a link. She's some new transfer student from who knows where. Either way, she and Scarhead were getting quite friendly today in the hall after Potions class. I think she's perfect; Granger's too smart for that, and there's no way I'm going to try to get close to that utter prat, Weasel. I'll start working on it as soon as I can.

Your son,

Draco

PS- I'll try not to let you down for Quidditch this year.

He hoped that by adding this signature over his name it would give Lucius a friendly reminder--and probably a shocking one, too--that he was related to Draco. Also, he hoped that his father wouldn't pick up on the slight twinge of sarcasm in his remark about Quidditch. But all the same, this whole underground helper thing really did make him feel better; even though they were all just orders, he was still getting owls from his father. That never happened.

Putting his quill back in the inkbottle, he read his letter over making sure it wasn't too long but not too short, either. There was an art to this; he didn't want to lose his father's patience with a short letter, or lose his interest with a long letter. Why did something as simple as owl post have to be so complicated?

He sighed and sat back on the rather uncomfortable black leather couch. He didn't know why they had this thing; it wasn't a very good seat to relax on. But then again the entire Slytherin common room had an air that made you feel rather uncomfortable. All of it was a dark stone and the colors were so murky and dreary...and it was even worse when it rained. It was rumor that the surroundings they lived in were part of the reason why the Slytherins were always in such a terrible mood.

Draco stood up and left the room to the owlry, not bothering to tell Crabbe or Goyle, who had been accompanying him, where he was going.

He supposed this meant that he was going to have to be nice to Deirdre now. He honestly couldn't even imagine it. But there had to be some way to manipulate her into telling him more about Potter. A look of sudden realization came over him. Of course!

I can just turn on the old Malfoy charm, he thought. The gift I received from my father, legendary for causing girls to fall willingly to my feet and the occasional heart attack. But I haven't really used it in quite some time...I suppose I should try it out.

Passing by a few fifth year Ravenclaw girls in the hall, he turned to them and conjured up a perfect 'you know you want me' smile. They stopped in their tracks, blushing, and turned to each other and giggled. One of them was staring at him like a love struck muggle who had just seen her favorite boy band walk by. He lifted his chin to her and she let out a squeal and they all giggled again.

He turned around to watch where he was going, a look of utter self-approval on his face.

Oh yeah, I've still got it.

He decided to make a detour through the Gryffindor corridors to reach the owlry, a place he was familiar with for reasons unknown. And how ironic that he should be halfway down the hall when he heard from behind him the unmistakable voice of Deirdre.

"What are you doing here?"

He froze for a moment, but played it off and turned around. "I had to come see you. I couldn't stand being apart any longer," he said sarcastically.

Deirdre looked at him strangely. There was something different about the way he said that and how he normally acted when he was being sarcastic. It sounded like he was doing it 'all in good fun' this time. She shook the idea off when she remembered just whom she was talking to.

"Really. Why are you here?"

He held up the envelope that was addressed to his father. "Going to the owlry. I just thought I'd take a detour in hopes of seeing someone."

"Okay. You were in hopes to see someone, so you came to the Gryffindor corridors," she said, nothing less than disbelieving.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shrugged. "Care to join?"

"No," she said, obviously not one that was easily harnessed by the Malfoy charm. All he had to do was keep trying, though.

His smile turned into another perfect 'you know you want me', and he raised an eyebrow, bringing it up to a complete 'just take me now.' Her eyes darted around the halls nervously and he could have sworn he noticed a change in redness in her face...

She fidgeted.

Almost immediately after she did, she looked at the ground and started blushing. It was going somewhere, all he had to do was throw a corny line that all girls would like: "What, you're too busy to grace me with your company?"

She fidgeted again. He restrained himself from smirking.

"Okay, where are the people hiding and waiting to jump out and laugh when I say yes?" she said skeptically, folding her arms.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you cunning little Gryffindor, you caught me. They're behind the statue. All of them," he said sarcastically, jerking his head to the statue to their right. It was the only place to hide in the hall they were in without being totally obvious, and not more than one or two people could have fit behind it.

His sudden outburst of cruel sarcasm--the typical Draco Malfoy that she was used to--must have set her off. She narrowed her eyes and he immediately regretted his remark, as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Dammit," he mumbled, folding his arms. "Oh well, I suppose it's only a matter of time."

Without turning around: "You know I can hear you, Malfoy?"

Now he fidgeted.

* * *

The next day in Transfiguration, the students miserably handed in their papers. They were all in denial that they had just hung around with a bunch of 'mudbloods' or 'heartless prats' and had supposedly learned more about their past.

McGonagall looked semi-pleased. "Very good," she said, and waited for them all to be seated again. "We will be doing another trust fall at the end of class today, so be prepared."

The students all groaned again. Wasn't one enough? She cast them a warning glare and they slowly stopped their griping, and waited for the day's lesson.

Draco kept giving Deidre side-glances. Every now and then she'd catch him and turn to glare at him, ignoring his hopeful smile. He sighed and rested his hand on his cheek after the fourth or fifth time. This was an utter disgrace. He was trying to get close to this stupid mudblood, and it was having no effect whatsoever. He didn't understand. Every other girl in the school thought he was wonderful deep down; why didn't she? He was cunning and dashing and sexy and devious and funny and modest...

Okay, so he wasn't modest, but everything else was a go.

He sighed, and cast another quick glance over at her. She was making a rather strange face with her nose scrunched up and her tongue sticking out. He was about to ask her what the hell he was doing, but followed her gaze across the room and saw Potter doing the same thing back at her. They laughed silently, trying to cover it up so the Professor couldn't hear, and turned back to pretending to listen to her.

With fifteen minutes left of class, they all stood up and faced the right again. Deirdre was clenching her fists and every now and then shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder. Apparently she hadn't forgotten the day before.

"You'd better catch me, Slytherin," she growled.

He almost laughed, but he covered it up. He couldn't laugh. He had to keep a straight face. It wasn't that hard to accomplish though; he was a Malfoy. McGonagall remembered their incident from two days before and reminded them that anyone who didn't catch the other student would lose them house points and serve a week of detention with her. A few of them sighed; apparently they had been planning to pull a Draco and not catch their partner.

She made them stand a foot farther apart than she had last time. They figured the idea was to get them to be able to trust them while standing farther away... nobody bothered to tell her that her goal was impossible, no matter how close they were standing.

"Begin falling," she said.

There were a few moments of utter silence, and she repeated her orders a little more harshly. Parvati was the first to fall back, and was caught safely, and others followed. Deirdre clenched her fists, ready to stop herself this time, and fell back.

He caught her with his arms under hers, and from behind her he was giving a look of utter disgust to be touching her. She hadn't expected him to catch her at all, and her back was pressed up against his stomach from letting her guard down in all her shock and getting closer than she had meant to. After a moment when he realized that nobody was watching him, his expression softened and he got an idea.

"Your hair smells nice," he commented casually, careful that nobody else could hear. The truth was that he hadn't even bothered to smell it; for all he knew Gryffindors didn't bathe and groom themselves regularly as he did.

She quickly stood up straight again with no help from him, her expression still angry for one reason or another. He stood watching her, but she just folded her arms and stared ahead, determined not to look at him. After everyone had fallen, she told the students to turn around and let the other partner do the same to them.

Draco eyed her nervously before doing so; she was still mad and knowing her, she wouldn't catch him despite Professor McGonagall's punishments. Soon enough, she told them all to fall back onto their partners, and after a moment he took a deep breath and leaned back.

She caught him, her arms under his just as he had done to her. Ha! So I am making an effect on her, he thought, Good old Malfoy charm--

Before he could finish his thought, his rump was on the floor and she was looking down at him innocently as if nothing had happened.