Shifting Perspectives

"Shifting Perspectives"

By Professor Mary

Chapter 6: People aren't who they seem...

At dinner, Draco found himself in quite a situation. Not only was he sandwiched between Weasley and Longbottom, with Potter sitting directly across from him, but he was actually enjoying it!

He shook his head, as if it would clear his traitorous thoughts. But before he could summon a snarky thought with which to remind himself that he really couldn't stand these three boys, Longbottom- of all people- started telling a story:

"You'll never believe what I saw while I was working in the Greenhouse earlier this afternoon," he started excitedly and then paused, waiting until he had everyone's attention.

Draco hadn't ever realized that Longbottom initiated conversations. He'd never seen proof otherwise- to his dismay, he found that he was more than slightly interested in what the boy might have to say. Gossip was gossip, after all.

Draco nudged Weasley, a bit harder than he needed to, to get him to pay attention to the boy. When the red-head finally looked up, Draco was relieved to see that Longbottom intended to go on with his story.

"Professor Sprout had asked me to stop in today to help her repot the Fanged Geraniums. But she must have forgotten because when I showed up at Greenhouse #5, there was no one else there. It's no big deal or anything, so I just started without her."

Draco allowed himself to be impressed with the round faced boy- not only was Longbottom causally talking about repotting plants roughly the size of small children but with the temperaments of wildebeests, but he was also doing so in Greenhouse #5, which was actually full of plants far more dangerous than Fanged Geraniums.

"Well, I was behind the Tentacled Alihotsy, when I heard- er- noises." At this Longbottom's cheeks became more than a little rosy.

"What do you mean "noises," Neville?" Harry asked, guilelessly. Draco was satisfied that both Potter and Weasley seemed to be properly paying attention to Longbottom's story.

"You know, noises - er, noises that you don't just want to walk in on..." Longbottom trailed off, now blushing furiously.

"Oh, come on, Neville, just say it- you overheard some shagging! Now, will you just get on with it!" Draco demanded, feeling rather frustrated with the boy's slow pace and apparent prudishness.

Draco was so eager to hear the rest of the tale that he didn't notice that all three boys were eyeing him with relatively perplexed expressions.

"'Kay, Hermione- so- sorry," Longbottom stammered. Draco gave him a pointed look.

But the other boy licked his lips and resumed his story.

"Before I go on, do you know what Tentacled Alihotsy is?" Longbottom asked.

Potter and Weasley shook their heads which came as no surprise to Draco. Dunderheads. Of course, he knew what Tentacled Alihotsy was.

"It's a variant of Alihotsy, a plant known to induce hysteria- but the Tentacled one is a genetically modified version, that, when used in extremely small doses, can help people overcome social phobias. Only recently, it has been employed as a supplement for couples' counseling and international diplomatic relations," Draco expounded, feeling quite proud of himself.

Draco's explanation earned him three sets of impressed looks.

"You never fail to amaze me, Hermione," Potter said with a huge smile.

Both Weasley and Longbottom nodded their heads in agreement and Draco felt very self-satisfied. But then he turned sharp brown eyes back on Longbottom.

"Go on," he pressed.

"Well, Professor Sprout usually keeps the Tentacled Alihotsy in Greenhouse 6- I guess it was only recently moved back into number 5. Anyway, I saw it as soon as I walked in so I was able to put on my mask and avoid breathing in the spores-"

"What's wrong with the spores?" Ron interjected.

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Ronald?" Draco paused for a second to delight in the face that Weasley made when he said his full name. He'd heard Granger say it enough that he knew he'd nailed its usage just now.

"As I was saying- even just a tiny bit can help people overcome serious kinds of social obstacles. Breathing it in without directed magical guidance could result in severe behavioral consequences!" Draco said with some amount of exasperation.

"Right," Longbottom agreed. "So back to the- er- shagging noises," he said, coughing just a bit.

"I was behind the Alihotsy plants but I could plainly hear them. I couldn't help but think that whoever it was might be acting under the duress of the spores- there was no warning sign about it at the door or anything. And too much of the spores could have permanent effects. So I cleared my throat really loudly and walked around the plants. And then I saw them-" Longbottom paused for dramatic effect.

"Who?" Draco breathed as he leaned in for the final disclosure.

"Professor Sprout and Snape!"

"No!" Draco said incredulously.

"Argh! What an image!" Weasley said, nearly spilling his pumpkin juice.

"What'd you do?" Potter asked, his own eyes bright with disbelief.

"I wanted to run," Longbottom said with such honesty that he made the other three laugh for several minutes.

"But you didn't?" Draco asked, after he'd laughed enough for his sides to ache.

"No, because I could see right away that they weren't wearing masks. And I knew that if I didn't do something- they'd - you know- they'd change- and be like that for- for -" Longbottom floundered, a look of horror reappearing on his face.

"So I walked up to where they were- er- you know," Longbottom started again.

"Which was where, by the way?" Draco interrupted.

"Geez- need for details, 'Mione!" Weasley quipped. Draco paid him no attention though and kept his questioning gaze on Longbottom.

"They were on the potting tables!" he said in a rush.

"Eew! That's where we work!" Potter said disdainfully.

"Thankfully, they still had- uh- most of their clothes on."

"Well, that's a relief, Neville. I imagine the site of those two naked would scar a person for life!" Weasley chuckled.

"That's not even the worst of it, though. It's what happened when they saw me!" Longbottom continued.

Draco felt his curiosity pique yet again.

"And?" he asked eagerly.

"They must have been in there for a while to have breathed in as much as they did- because they- they didn't stop- well, not really- when they saw me. They both just looked surprised but then acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary! They continued!" Longbottom stopped, looking for sympathy from each of them in turn.

No one said anything. It was just too much to fathom.

Finally Draco had to hear the rest: "What happened then?"

"I tried to tell them that I thought they'd been poisoned by the Tentacled Alihotsy. Professor Spout just laughed- and then Snape said that he loved her laugh and started kissing her again. So then I realized that I needed help. I ran straight to the infirmary to get Madame Pomfrey. She told me that she'd take care of it and forbade me from going back- not that I wanted to see anymore of that!"

Draco contemplated the entire story as well as the storyteller. He tried to imagine what he would have done if it had been him who'd encountered the two euphoric professors- Sprout and Snape, at that- in flagrante delicto. He shuddered just thinking about it.

"You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you, Neville?" he said and gave the now-blushing boy a genuine smile.

Across the Great Hall, Hermione was stifling a rather violent surge of envy. At first, she told herself that she was watching Malfoy with her friends as a precaution. She didn't really trust him. But then, when it became pretty obvious that he was just sitting there, listening to her friends and eating his dinner- on the surface, like a normal girl- she realized that she was getting jealous.

Who was he to sit with her friends while she had to endure caustic tirades, biting sarcasm, and general stupidity? Her mounting discomfort at the situation actually fueled her own series of cutting remarks. Since no one gave her overly strange looks, she figured she was taking up Malfoy's role rather well.

As soon as she finished eating, she decided to escape back to her Common Room. She figured that the longer she remained, the more likely she'd be to send a hex someone's way. Whether that someone would be a fellow Slytherin or perhaps a bushy-haired girl sitting a few tables away, she wasn't sure.

"Baddock," she called, looking down the table at the Fifth year Prefect. "You're on dungeon patrol tonight- Snape's new rules. You'll be with the Head Girl." The boy gave her a curt nod before returning to his meal. Hermione was rather surprised that no one made any kind of disparaging remarks at all- not a single "Mudblood" joke.

As she was standing, she noticed that another boy, Blaise Zabini, one of the Seventh year Prefects, was talking quickly to Baddock. Before she could take more than a few steps away from the table, Zabini approached her.

"Draco," he said as he put a hand on her arm. Hermione started at being addressed by Malfoy's given name.

"Yes, Blaise?" she returned, assuming that the two boys must be on a first-name basis.

"Baddock and I are going to swap patrols, if that's all right with you?" he asked in a bored tone that contradicted the slight blush rising on his cheeks.

Hermione couldn't help but hear the tentativeness in Zabini's request however disinterested he was trying to be. She could tell that he was also attempting to be both "cool" and deferential at the same time. It made her really wonder about the kinds of relationships that Malfoy must have with his fellow Slytherins.

"Sure Blaise," she replied. "Be outside the Head Common Room at 9:30 then."

The other boy gave her a nod coupled with a smirk and then sat back down at the table. As she turned to leave, she then noticed that another person had joined her side.

"Draco, since Granger is patrolling tonight, why don't we study together?" Pansy said as the two walked out of the Great Hall.

Hermione groaned inwardly at the thought of willingly spending time with the sour-faced girl.

"Sure, Pansy. See you in an hour then?" she responded, thinking that she could at least get a good hour of work in before having to play "Draco Malfoy- friend to bitchy stuck-up Slytherin girls."

Promptly an hour later, she heard a slight knocking outside the portrait door. She opened the door and let in Parkinson. She found that she was a bit annoyed with how comfortable the girl was, walking in as if she owned the place- it wasn't her Common Room, after all. With some amount of relief, she reminded herself that at least she didn't have to pretend to be dating the girl.

"Draco, before we get to work, I want to talk to you about something," she began.

Hermione instantly felt justified that she'd insisted on having an hour of time to herself. No doubt the unpleasant girl merely wanted to gossip or generate some kind of trouble-making. She raised an eyebrow in response, knowing without a doubt that Malfoy would have done the same.

"I want to be bigger," Parkinson stated simply.

"Er- how do you mean?" Hermione replied, feeling a bit lost in what she suspected was an ongoing conversation between Malfoy and Parkinson.

"You know- I really liked taking up all that space. The Irish boy was just bigger. He walked faster- people got out of his way- he was just so much larger than me!" she said in frustration.

Hermione looked at her, hoping she would continue.

"And how do you feel now?" she prompted.

"Diminutive!" she shrieked. Hermione was mildly impressed by Parkinson's word choice. Truly, she thought, Seamus did make the girl in front of him seem rather diminutive.

"And you'd like to be- er- bigger?" Hermione asked.

"Yes!" came the answer.

"Well, okay, then," Hermione said, taking out a sheet of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

"Okay, then? What do you mean- okay, then, Draco?" Parkinson asked.

"You want to be bigger- we just need to think this through, Pansy. Let's think about your options."

"You really think that I can do something? That I have options?" Parkinson asked with obvious skepticism.

"Of course. Isn't that what you wanted to talk about?" Hermione replied in annoyance.

"Actually, I just wanted to complain- but if you think there's something I can do to feel like that again- without- uh- becoming a boy- then I want to hear it!"

Hermione took a long moment to survey the girl sitting across from her. She knew- at least she thought she knew- exactly what was going through her mind. She understood what it was like to suddenly "take up so much more space"- as Pansy referred to it. She'd noticed how people had treated her differently now that she inhabited a tall blond haired male body. She also had a pretty good understanding of why that was happening now that she was perceived as male. She pursed her lips together and silently appreciated the irony of being in a position to engage in feminist activism with none other than Pansy Parkinson. She dipped her quill in the ink and felt a sudden rush of determination to help the girl "get bigger."

"First things, first, Pansy. You can eat more," Hermione said firmly.

"I said bigger- not fatter!" she snorted.

"Pansy, you have a long long way to go before you'll need to worry about that," Hermione said, eyeing the slim girl closely. "I can see the bones of your wrist."

"I do not have an eating disorder, Draco Malfoy. This is not some kind of intervention nonsense, is it? You know that the last time you tried that, you really pissed me off!" she said in a petulant and angry voice.

Hermione bristled at the dark-haired girl's tone for a few seconds before the implications of what she'd said sunk in. Draco Malfoy cared enough about someone other than himself- someone as in this particular selfish bitch- enough to "intervene"? Enough to worry about her having an eating disorder? Amazing! she thought.

She took a deep breath and chose her next words carefully.

"I did not say that you have an eating disorder, Pansy. All I'm saying is that one of your options is to allow yourself to physically take up more space by eating more- letting your body be a bit bigger. Furthermore, if you eat more and then add some sport or exercise to your daily routine, you'll increase your space in specific kinds of ways."

"You mean I'll have muscles?" Pansy asked, again her face showing disbelief.

Hermione let the girl stew on that for a few minutes.

"I never really thought about sports or developing muscles or anything like that, Draco. How would I do that here at Hogwarts? I can't see myself playing Quidditch!"

Hermione thought fast. Gyms and fitness centers were distinctly Muggle kinds of places. As far as she knew, there wasn't much of an equivalent for wizards that was accessible here at school.

"Pansy, you can reshape your body by making different kinds of choices. For instance, you could volunteer to help Professor Sprout with her work in the greenhouses or the fields. You'd get some muscles rather quickly."

Pansy looked dubious but then she smirked broadly.

"I guess it made all the difference for Longbottom, didn't it?" she laughed.

Hermione held her tongue from hurling an insult in defense of her Gryffindor friend. She was thankful that she did as she observed a light blush on Pansy's cheeks. She's serious! she thought. And then she pictured Neville- he really had changed quite a bit lately. Had it been from all that gardening?

"Okay, that's an option," Pansy said. "What else?"

"You could help Hagrid with some of the creatures either in the Forbidden Forest or..-" Hermione suggested before Pansy's groan cut her off.

"I can't even believe you're suggesting that, Draco! That giant scares me!! You know that!!!"

This time Hermione didn't quite hold her tongue in check.

"He's harmless, Pansy. Harmless. And you're an idiot for thinking otherwise!" she snarled, feeling that familiar temper begin to burn inside her chest.

"Fine. He's harmless. But you know he still makes me nervous," Pansy conceded. "And you can't deny that he brings totally dangerous creatures to class!"

Hermione really couldn't disagree. She sighed, feeling her anger dissipate.

"Anything else?" Pansy queried.

"There are lots of things, really. You could help Madame Pomfrey out in the infirmary or even Madame Pince in the library," Hermione offered.

"Why does everything require me helping someone?" Pansy asked sullenly.

"I suppose you could go for a run," Hermione said, thinking that she might do that as soon as she got rid of the Slytherin.

"Boring!" Pansy huffed.

"There's always dressing in skimpy clothes and dancing in place to loud pop music with tons of other girls," Hermione offered in exasperation.

Pansy goggled her.

"That would great," Pansy said, her voice filled with awe.

"It's what Muggles do," Hermione filled in and then waited for Pansy's temper to blow.

When Pansy merely shrugged, it was Hermione's turn to goggle.

"How do you think I could do that here?" Pansy asked, as she too pulled out parchment, ink, and a quill.

"You'd need a room and some music," Hermione listed as she watched Pansy quickly write down her words.

"And you just dance in place, then?" she asked, looking up from her notes.

"Well, I suppose there are certain kinds of moves. But mostly, it's just dancing vigorously enough to sweat," Hermione answered.

"Perfect. That's perfect. Do you think I should ask Professor Snape about getting a room?" Pansy asked.

"Er- Pansy, let me ask the Head Girl about it first," Hermione said quickly, thinking she'd need to run the idea by Malfoy before Snape had a chance to shoot it down.

"Good thinking, Draco. If anyone can figure out how to get something like that done it'll be Goody-Goody Granger," Pansy said appreciatively.

Hermione resignedly accepted both the insult and compliment inherent in Pansy's words.

"So shall we study, now?" she asked hopefully.

"Right. McGonagall gave us a ton of homework," Pansy answered.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. For listening and helping. You're a good friend sometimes." Pansy said, a small but authentic smile on her lips.

Hermione just nodded, lost in the moment of amazement at being so genuinely appreciated by Pansy Parkinson.

Around 9:20, Draco returned to the Common Room. He really didn't want to admit it but he'd just had a great time studying in the Library with Potter and Weasley. He hadn't questioned either one of them when the three headed to the Library after dinner. It seemed like the natural course of events- and he did have to study, after all.

He tried to identify what had been so pleasurable about the experience but found that it was hard to pinpoint one particular thing. Perhaps the most salient aspect was that Potter and Weasley- two persons usually loathe to appear weak in front of him- were asking him questions, previewing their homework with him, and generally paying attention to most everything that he said- all of which he found to be extremely gratifying. They were actually pretty good listeners, too- something he didn't experience too much of with his own friends. Weasley had a good sense of humor, as well. Several times, Draco caught himself chuckling aloud at the red-headed boy's ongoing rant with his Divination homework.

He walked into the comfortably quiet Common Room just long enough to drop off his books and make sure that Granger hadn't hexed Pansy. Only Granger had seemed to notice him when he entered the room. As he stepped back into the hall to wait for Baddock to arrive, he immediately wished he had grabbed a sweater. The dungeons they had to patrol were particularly chilly.

He wondered if he should risk going into Granger's room to find a sweater. He couldn't very well take one of his own or ask Granger to retrieve one for him - not with Pansy sitting in there.

He pulled his robes more tightly around him and considered whether or not a Warming charm would be too much for the autumn evening.

He had just decided to wait until it was absolutely necessary before he'd cast a Charm that would probably make him sweat for the rest of the night when he heard footsteps. He turned and saw his friend, Blaise, coming directly towards him. Since Baddock wasn't in sight and also wasn't one to be late, he figured that the two must of have swapped their patrol shifts. He much preferred Blaise to Baddock and found himself looking forward to spending the next two hours with the tall dark-haired boy.

Perhaps calling Blaise a "friend" was too much- especially when he compared their relationship to, say, that between Granger and Potter and Weasley. However, he got along well with the boy and usually enjoyed his sharp wit and insightful commentary.

He realized that he was a bit exhausted after having already spent so much time talking with Granger and then studying with Potter and Weasley. He was looking forward to something akin to just being "normal" with Blaise.

When the other boy was a few yards away, he gave him a big smile and then a greeting.

"Hi Blaise," he said easily. It was only when he saw the look of bewilderment on his friend's face that he mentally kicked himself. Of course Granger wouldn't be on first-name terms with Blaise Zabini, a Seventh year Slytherin Prefect! he thought. Before he could bemoan his lack of judgment and resign himself to what was probably going to be a horrible evening, the other boy gave him a relatively friendly smile.

"Hi-er- Hermione," he said shyly, as he stopped only a few feet away.

"I hope you don't mind that I swapped with Baddock tonight. He had some homework he had to do- asked me to fill in," Blaise said smoothly, his shyness evaporating.

Draco looked at the boy keenly. He knew Blaise well enough to know that the boy was clearly lying to him just now. He also knew that Blaise was never shy about anything- especially girls! Furthermore, he could now see that Blaise had just recently smartened himself up. The boy's dark curls looked freshly styled and he was wearing a crisp clean shirt underneath his robes.

Interesting. Very interesting, Draco mused.

"Well, shall we?" Blaise asked, giving him a smile that Draco knew was reserved for impressing girls and getting out of detentions.

As they walked along in companionable silence, Draco tried to analyze the situation. Plainly, his friend Blaise was hitting on Granger- which meant that Blaise was making a play for the Head Girl- a Gryffindor- a Muggleborn- the smartest student at Hogwarts- and on top of everything else, a member of the Golden Trio!

He stopped walking as the realization hit him- and hit him it did- like a ton of bricks! Of course, Blaise Zabini - an ambitious smart good looking (especially according to Pansy) Pureblood Slytherin Prefect- was flirting with Hermione Granger. She's the ultimate challenge! he thought wildly.

He looked up at his friend now. Blaise had stopped walking too and was giving him a concerned look.

"Did you hear something, Hermione?" he asked.

"What? Oh, yes, but I don't hear it anymore. Probably just Mrs. Norris," Draco replied, thinking fast. He resumed both his walking and thinking. The dungeons were indeed cold, and he shivered, drawing his robes tightly around him.

"Hermione? Would you like to wear my sweater?" Blaise offered, indicating a lovely dark green sweater just underneath his robes.

"Oh, er- Thanks, Blaise. But I'll be okay," Draco responded, feeling both thankful at the boy's thoughtfulness and resentful for some other unknown reason.

As they continued down the corridors, Draco tried to collect his thoughts into coherent themes. He was relieved to realize that he did not feel physically attracted to his friend. While he could certainly appreciate that Blaise was good looking, he was glad to note that it stopped there- at appreciation. So he didn't seem to be about to suffer Granger's fate with the Weaselette.

He racked his brains trying to remember if either Blaise or Granger had ever given any indication of being interested in each other. Granger had seemed honest earlier when she'd told him that she wasn't dating anyone. And Blaise had certainly kept his ambitious designs on the Head Girl a secret.

He felt unresolved about how to deal with the current situation. Given Blaise's apparent attraction to Granger, he figured that he could relax a bit and just "hang out" with his friend without raising too much suspicion. After all, everyone knew that Granger was best friends with two boys- why would Blaise think anything of her acting friendly? So Draco gave into his exhaustion and his desire to be himself around his friend.

And then he wondered what they should talk about.

"Er-" he began. Blaise turned to him rather eagerly, Draco thought.

Suddenly filled with inspiration and a need to spill some gossip, he plunged right in-

"Have you noticed anything odd about Professor Snape today?" he asked, smiling in anticipation at the story he was about to relate.

"Funny you should ask, Hermione. Snape came into the Slytherin Common Room after dinner- and well, he was humming!" Blaise said, chuckling.

"That's certainly out of the ordinary," Draco said, chortling to himself at the thought of Snape humming.

"Well, that's not all. He asked us Prefects to gather all the Slytherins together for an announcement. And then-" Blaise stopped suddenly and seemed hesitant to continue.

"Why do you ask?" he queried. Draco could see that he was favoring him with a shrewd look.

"Oh, no, Blaise Zabini. You started a story. Now finish it and maybe I'll tell you what I know," Draco teased. As soon as the words were out, Draco was extremely aware of the difference between the way they sounded in his mind and the way they sounded coming out of Granger's mouth.

There was no doubt that he'd just flirted with his friend.

He sighed inwardly and swore to himself that in no way, shape, or form, would he ever flirt with Blaise Zabini again.

Blaise was laughing at his demands, though, and seemed quite unaware of his fate with this particular version of Hermione Granger.

"Fine, Hermione. You win- but you'd better tell me what you know," he teased back. "Snape had us gather everyone together and then he proceeded to tell us how proud he was- of each of us! He even got a bit misty-eyed when he was talking about the Quidditch team... Then he was a bit disappointed because neither Pansy nor Draco was there to receive their compliments, though. He had to borrow Gregory's handkerchief!"

Draco gaped at him. He couldn't think of anything to say. "You're serious?" was all he could manage.

"I am, Hermione!" Blaise answered. "You should have been there. It was so surreal- I was there and I'm still not sure that I believe it!"

The two continued their walk down into the bowels of the castle. Draco kept asking for details about Snape's melt-down and Blaise was happy to supply them.

"Now, are you going to tell me what you know, Head Girl?" Blaise teased gently, once again giving Draco his "special smile."

Draco stifled both a groan at his friend's display and an indistinct pang of jealousy. He'd have to think about that later on. He couldn't think of why he'd be feeling jealous.

Carefully, he relayed Longbottom's story. He didn't feel the need to expose the storyteller- somehow he just didn't want to chance getting the other boy in trouble with either Snape or Sprout. Once he was done, it was Blaise's turn to gape.

"You're telling me that Snape is acting under the influence of this- what is it? Tentacled Alihotsy spores? That he slept with Sprout and then had a heart-to-heart with the entire Slytherin House? That must be some good stuff!" he said, with a sly grin.

"Blaise, I know you're not even thinking about trying to get your mitts on those spores, are you?" Draco said in what he hoped was definitively menacing tone.

Blaise's reaction told him otherwise. Clearly, he'd just flirted with his friend, again.

Argh!!!!! he thought.

Finally, their time was drawing to a close. Though Draco had mostly enjoyed hanging out with Blaise, he was still harboring some vague feelings of resentment. He was beyond tired and more than ready to crawl between his silk sheets.

As they passed the Slytherin Common room, Draco looked at Granger's wristwatch.

"Okay, Blaise. I'll see you around," he said.

"Oh, no, Hermione. I'll walk you to your Common Room," Blaise insisted.

Draco bit his lip in slight irritation. He really was ready to end this evening before he did anything else that might encourage the other boy.

"Thanks," he said meekly.

When they got to the Head Common Room, Draco realized with a certain amount of dread that Blaise was actively steeling himself up for ... something.

Draco took a deep breath. There's no way I am going to snog him. He couldn't expect Granger to do that, could he? She's a goody-goody, after all!

Thankfully, Blaise did seem to realize that and kept himself at respectable distance. But he did clear his throat twice before speaking his next words.

"Er- Hermione, may I take you out for a Butterbeer or something at the next Hogsmeade weekend?" he asked.

Draco gulped audibly. Though he'd actually like to have a Butterbeer with Blaise under normal circumstances- these were not normal circumstances! - and thus, he didn't know what to say.

On the other hand, what if Granger did like Blaise? If he said no, would she get angry and then retaliate in some way? Shit. If only he could step in and ask her before responding... if only he could figure out why Blaise's request was so irksome!

He took a deep breath. Blaise was shuffling his feet. The tension rolling off his body was palpable. Draco just couldn't take it. It was too much!

"Sure, Blaise. That would be great," he found himself saying.

His friend looked instantly relieved which in turn made Draco feel a lot calmer, too. But then he was even more relieved when Pansy stepped out into the hallway before Blaise could do more than nod.

"Oh! Blaise! Perfect timing. Walk me back to the Common Room, will ya?" she cooed.

Blaise was looking so happy that even Pansy's simpering words couldn't seem to damper him. He gave Draco a huge smile before offering the pug-faced girl his arm.

Draco stood there and watched the two until they turned around a corner. Then he stepped into the Common Room. He spied Granger lying on the couch, rubbing her fingers through her blond locks in that way that he knew to be extremely satisfying.

He walked over to the couch opposite her and sat down. Though he was tired, he needed to clarify a few of his jumbled thoughts. Plus, he thought he should warn her that she now had a date with Blaise in a month.

Except that he didn't really feel like telling her that.

And that feeling was what he needed clarification about.

"Granger?" he waited until she looked up at him.

"What is the nature of your relationship with Blaise Zabini?" he asked in a disinterested tone.

"What?" came the confused reply.

"You heard me," he said, feeling a stab of irritation.

"There is no relationship with Blaise Zambini," she said.

"Zabini," he corrected.

"Oh, right. Zabini. Whatever. I don't really know him at all. Today was the first time I've ever even spoken with him. He asked me if he could trade patrols with Malcolm Baddock."

"I knew he was lying!" Draco snapped, feeling a telltale surge of righteous indignation.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" she asked sleepily.

He yawned before he could answer.

"Listen, whatever it is. Can it wait?" she asked, returning his yawn. "I'm worn out. I don't know if it's just really really difficult to be you- or to not be me. Or maybe both. But I am bone tired now. Let's just exchange clothes for tomorrow, okay?"

Draco nodded. "But we do have some things to talk about, Granger. Not the least of which is my detention and your breaking into Snape's private stores..." he trailed off as another series of yawns overtook him.

"Right," she answered before disappearing into her room.

When she came out she handed him a pile of clean clothing. On top, he could see a metallic can of the Muggle drink that had saved him this morning as well as her toothbrush.

He took the pile into his room and returned with his own stack of robes and clothes.

"One more thing, Granger," he said before she could turn around.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow morning. Will you - uh - help me with this hair again?" he asked, taking a handful of it in his hand.

To his surprise, she laughed at him, though he could hear no malice.

"Of course. G' Night, Malfoy," she said, closing her door.

"'Night," he answered softly.

Despite his fatigue, Draco couldn't fall asleep right away. He continued to lay awake, trying to put a name to his conflicting thoughts. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to be able to come to any resolution about his resentment of Blaise, his worries about his parents, his rather disgustingly friendly feelings for Potter, Weasley and even Longbottom, and finally the realization the Granger was, indeed, the ultimate challenge, he settled for being hopeful- perhaps he'd wake up in his own skin and then he'd know how to feel and what to think about each of those people.