A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing

"She’s waking up!"

"Only cos you’re tilting the bed; get off!”

AJ moaned as the surface under her straightened out. Bright light was forcing its way through her eyelids, obliging her to wake up properly. "Werrrgggg..."

"AJ?" She felt a gentle hand on her cheek. Squinting under the bright light, she saw Draco Malfoy, his silvery-grey eyes full of concern. Even in her semi-conscious state, she thought he was hot. It was times like this she wished they were still together.

"Hey," she said her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to sit up, but Malfoy reached across and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Lie down," he said, "and don't put any weight on your left for a while. You haven't stayed conscious long enough to take any Skele-gro, so your arm hasn't healed yet."

"What? What happened to my arm?" She sat up a little to get a better view. Her arm, held in a sling, was limp, and there was a forty five degree bend in the middle of her upper arm, the bone protruding toward her. "Oh, eww!"

Surprisingly, she wasn't in too much pain. A quick glance at her beside cabinet confirmed that she had been given medicine – at least one of those twenty or so bottles must be a painkiller.

"I'm going to kill Flint," she muttered, gingerly touching the break as she inspected her arm.

"AJ," she heard Draco say "don't you learn?" She looked up from her wound and met Draco's gaze. "Picking fights with Flint isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Except the infirmary," Crabbe added helpfully, popping up behind Draco.

"Get out," the latter hissed. "And take the idiot with you." Crabbe backed out of the room, and Goyle trotted out behind him, not seeming to mind being referred to as 'the idiot'. "Anyway," Draco said, turning back to AJ after watching the Goons leave, "after spending three years with him in my house, I can tell you that Flint doesn't let things go easily and he will make your life hell from now on." He emphasised the last part especially. Students had transferred to other schools to get away from Flint.

"I don't think he's that hard," she replied. She chortled as Draco's eyebrows flew upward. "Really, if he thinks breaking my arm is all it takes to make me scared of him, he's very mistaken. I feel absolutely fine."

"You won't feel fine once that pain-killing charm wears off." said Madame Pomfrey, bustling into the cubicle. "Up!" AJ shifted forward as the school nurse fluffed her pillow and gently sat her back down. "Honestly, young lady, picking a fight with Marcus Flint! I knew the lad by name the first week he was here, the number of times he sent people here and was here himself!" She turned and measured some potion into a cup, merrily babbling as she force-fed the girl various liquids. "Of course, in the later years the only reason he'd be here is from Quidditch injuries. That and detentions he had to serve with me." She placed the lids back on the medicine bottles, and pointed out a bottle to AJ. "When your lunch comes up, you need to take this with your meal, alright?" She turned and left without pausing to let the others speak, mumbling "Imagine! Taking on someone that size! That's got to be a first, starting on that Flint boyÂ…"

"Oh that's another thing;" Malfoy said, suddenly seeming fascinated with his thumbs as he twiddled them. "You've got a load of detentions with Madame Hooch for provoking him."

"What?" she protested. "I didn't bloody start it!"

"Well not in Flint's eyes. He's used to people taking whatever he throws at them."

"Literally!" she spat. He smirked despite himself.

"He got lots of detentions too, you know, for punching you into the next week. You know you've been here four days, right?" He registered the shocked look on her face. "Evidently not then. Anyway, no one challenged him when he said it was your fault, so you've got the same punishment of cleaning the Quidditch accessories."

Cleaning the Quidditch supplies was no easy task. It was something that took hours, even with scourgify, since the brooms seemed to get mud, hair, dirt and just about anything stuck in their twigs. "Why didn't you challenge him, Draco? You saw it all!" she protested.

Now he looked up. "Jesus, woman; I don't want to die!" The bell rang, signalling afternoon lessons were about to begin. Draco got up and collected his bags. "Seriously," he said, kissing her on the forehead, "if you want to leave Hogwarts alive, don't do anything to aggravate him. Anything." AJ, smiling at having been kissed, watched him leave, and as he slipped through the doorway he nearly knocked over a small boy in Hufflepuff robes who came in carrying two trays of sandwiches in. Draco said something to the boy, sneering, and the poor child nearly ran into the infirmary as Draco cackled. Evidently Draco had to be mean to balance out his Yin and Yang after his display of affection for his ex-girlfriend. The little Hufflepuff scooted across the room, to where AJ's vision was blocked by her cubicle's curtain.

"I brought you some lunch," he squeaked. AJ, feeling tired, gave him a nod of thanks. The boy turned to leave, lingering at the edge of the cubicle for a moment. AJ caught his eye questioningly. He cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I ask you a question, miss?" She chuckled at being called ‘miss', and motioned for him to continue. "Is it true?" he asked, his big blue eyes gleaming, "That you picked a fight with Marcus Flint?" She looked at him, a little unsure of what to say. He looked so expectant.

"Well... I'm not a fighting person..." she started; the boy looked crestfallen. "But he annoyed me, so I gave him what he deserved." The boy looked pleased as punch. "Then he beat me to a pulp," she added, but his smile didn't waver.

"You're so brave!" he exclaimed. "We need someone to put him in place. He picks on everyone. He's so mean." He pouted, lost in his thoughts of the bully. "You're going to be a hero," he said, quietly but firmly. "You'll be the protector of the weak, here at Hogwarts."

"I hardly think--" she began, but Madame Pomfrey came in and shooed the boy out.

"My friends and I all think you're a legend!" he called as he left. "Flint is so mad about it!"

Pomfrey, ignoring the boy, bustled about her again, reminding her to take the Skele-gro.

"Do you not find it claustrophobic?" she said, pulling the curtains fully open without waiting for an answer. "Now drink that up and we can get you out of here in a day or two." She smiled at AJ before walking over to her desk and pulling out some paperwork.

For the first time since waking up, she saw the other patient in the ward. A pale, pointed-looking boy, probably a fifth or sixth year. She didn't know him by name but he looked familiar.

"You picked a fight with Flint?" he said when he caught her eye. She nodded, more tired than before. She tipped her head back and gulped the Skele-gro. It was disgusting. She grimaced. The boy laughed. "Don't bother drinking that." he said. "You're so dead the second you get out of here."

---

AJ quickly forgot about the other patient, as he left only a few hours later. Having stuck diligently to her medicine schedule, AJ made a faster-than-usual recovery and was released the next evening; Pomfrey convinced that her humerus was well on its way to recovery. The cuts on her back had healed well and what Pomfrey had suspected to be a broken rib was just bruising, the dull ache from which she could deal with.

"Hey guys," AJ said, plonking herself next to Draco.

"AJ, you're out!" said one Goon, sitting on the other side of Draco. The other Goon looked out from behind his friends and waved to her.

"Well observed, Crabbe," she said smiling, and he playfully flicked a piece of lettuce at her. AJ's dinner appeared on her plate a moment after she set it down. That was one of the best things about Hogwarts – if you put the plate down, the house elves somehow already knew what you wanted and apparated it to your plate (although they adhered to strict guidelines that over the course of a month, the students must get a balanced diet – hence Crabbe and Goyle were eating nice, healthy green salads). She got a large portion of roast lamb with peas and carrots. They must've known she had been in the infirmary. AJ made idle chat with Malfoy about Quidditch (they still hadn't found a keeper) and poured out a measure of Skele-gro to go with her meal. It wasn't an acquired taste – it was actually horrid and no one could possibly learn to accept its flavour. Her face contorted as the bitter liquid blazed a trail down her throat. She had to drink what seemed like gallons of pumpkin juice to rid her oesophagus of the taste.

"I hate Skele-gro," she complained to Draco. "It's the worst thing I've ever tasted."

"Worse than your own blood, Gryffindor?" The table shook as a plate banged down at the seat opposite her. Marcus Flint had arrived. Beside him stood Montague, and Warrington scurried to his other side, tripping over a first year in his haste. The noise level in the hall dipped suddenly and lots of heads turned to watch the spectacle. AJ felt Draco step on her foot, a silent plea to keep her temper. Flint sneered at her.

"I don't appreciate all those detentions you got me." He smiled at her wince as he leaned forward and grabbed her bad arm. "Watch your back," he breathed into her ear. He pulled back a little and glared at her face to face. There was that 'any last requests?' look. It was almost as if he were memorising her looks, taking in her brown eyes, tan skin and (slightly quivering) lips so he'd remember what she originally looked like, before he rearranged her face. AJ, ignoring how hard her heart was banging inside her chest, cleared her throat.

"Take a seat, won't you?" she said simply. He gave her a look of disbelief. "It's rude to stand around while people have their dinner." She was well aware of Malfoy staring at her questioningly, but she ignored him, watching Flint as he looked to Montague, who looked puzzled, and to Warrington, who shrugged.

They sat.

The seven of them ate in silence as the noise in the hall slowly crept back up. Montague was reading the sport pages of the Daily Prophet; Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle exchanging looks of discomfort; Warrington picking at his food and sneaking looks at his leader, ready for instructions; and AJ concentrating resolutely on her meal. Flint glared at her the whole time, pushing his food around and around his plate; AJ wasn't sure if he'd actually eaten anything.

Finally Warrington broke the silence.

"It's good that we have the whole team sitting together, you know," he said, as if they had been conversing all along in his head. "Displays team solidarity to the other houses."

"We don't have a whole team." Flint growled in his deep voice.

"Well if we use Jones as keeper..." Warrington mused. Instantly six pairs of eyes were focussed on him, and the second the words came out of his mouth he looked like he regretted it. "I mean, she's not on the team. Never could be of course. No, never!" He turned to AJ and put on his gravest expression. "Bad Jones!" He smiled weakly at the Slytherin captain and dropped his gaze, suddenly very interested in the rinds of his watermelon slices. "She is a good keeper though..." he said, in a voice so quiet that one could've thought they had imagined it.

"Shut it, Warrington. She won't make a good Slytherin keeper." He turned his gaze from his crony to the former Gryffindor, who finally met his eye for a fraction of a second, having been looking from one to the other as they spoke.

"I thought she was good, actually," Crabbe suddenly stated, playing with a cucumber slice before popping it in his mouth. "Better than that third year we trialled. He was rubbish." Suddenly he jumped. "What did you kick me for, Malfoy?" he said, turning to the blond. "All I said is she was the best that tried out."

"Yeah, she was." Goyle piped. AJ marvelled at how dim he sounded. That's why he doesn't talk much.

The Slytherin Quidditch team was split over the decision. Warrington, Crabbe and Goyle had spoken out against Flint, Malfoy looked worried, Montague disgruntled and Flint furious. He snorted.

"Go on Malfoy, say it," he taunted. "Tell me you want your girlfriend on the team."

"I'm not his girlf-"

"Shut it Gryffindor, I wasn't talking to you." AJ pursed her lips, but Draco spoke up before she could retort.

"She's not my girlfriend," he calmly finished for her, "but I do want her on the team." There, he had made his decision, encouraged by the support of his team mates. Outnumbered, Flint and Montague looked at each other. Then Flint turned to Warrington.

"You want her on the team?" he checked. Warrington nodded meekly. Flint turned back to Montague. "What do you think?"

Montague gazed at Flint, and then looked at AJ with distaste. "I didn't like her... performance," he said carefully, looking her up and down. "But there is only a month left before our first game." He returned his gaze to Flint. "She would be useful until we find someone better. We can't waste precious training time."

With that, Montague picked up his fork and stabbed his turkey breast with it, causing a loud screech as the fork scratched the plate below. AJ was glad for the turkey's sake that it was already dead.

Flint turned forward to face her and she dropped her gaze once again.

"Look at me," he commanded. She looked up, catching his eye. She wasn't feeling as brave as she did a few days ago. The bruise on her chest suddenly throbbed and she felt really, really hot under his scrutiny. She glanced away again.

"I said look at me!" Flint raised his voice and AJ's head snapped back up. "You'll never make it on this team if you don't learn to take orders, Gryffindor." A little ball of anger formed in the base of her stomach. She fought to control it.

"I can take orders," she contested, hoping that her voice sounded calmer than she felt. "And I'm not a Gryffindor."

"Shut up," he barked. AJ opened her mouth to counter him but snapped it shut again. "We'll be having another team practice tomorrow evening, in addition to our regular practice, which is every Saturday morning. Got that?"

AJ nodded.

"And don't think for a moment that your place on the team is assured. If we find someone else in time, you may not even play the Gryffindor match for us." She nodded again. "And you still have to do the initiation tests, no matter how brief your spell on this team is. You have a week to complete them." He stood up, Montague echoed this, and Warrington, always a step behind, suddenly realised they were leaving and leapt up.

"For my test, Gryffindor, meet me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch at 8pm Saturday." With that, the three of them left, Flint pushing Warrington out of his way as the boy stumbled.

Malfoy exhaled as if he had been holding his breath all the way through dinner.

"You realise that if Montague hadn't agreed, he'd have had our heads for that?" he said.

"Yeah... I thought you never would've stood up to him. Crabbe and Goyle are braver than you." she said mockingly.

"Not brave. Stupid," he corrected.

---

Her first training session next day wasn't as terrible as she thought it would be. Flint actually went remarkably easy on her, although she was fully aware that this was because she was his only hope. Since she only had use of one arm, she and Flint had practiced penalties, hovering only a couple of feet above the ground while the remainder of the first team played the reserves, a hundred or so feet above them. Flint didn't throw any of those horrid power balls at her, although they weren't all easy catches (well nothing's an easy catch with one arm), and in return she was quite civil, despite his constant criticisms and ‘Gryffindor' taunts.

It was after training that things got interesting. Flint called everyone down and berated the reserves for being utterly useless (they had just lost 320-70 to team with no goalkeeper and only two chasers). After the reserves had been dismissed the talk of initiation came up.

"Right you lot," Flint said, pacing in front of the group sitting on the floor, "Gryffindor is our temporary goalkeeper. She gets the customary week to do all her tests, so the deadline is next Friday." He nodded to AJ, making sure she knew that. "I've already set a time for her to come with me to do her test for me. The rest of you need to set her tasks today so she gets the week to carry them out. I've told Montague what my test is, so you won't set the same one. Remember you've all got to set different tasks - we don't want a repeat of Bobby ‘Six Buckets o Slugs' McNamera, ok?" There was a mumble of assent from the players. "Gryffindor," he said, catching AJ's attention. He motioned for her to follow him. "I'm off for a shower," he said as she trotted alongside him toward the changing rooms. "Our detentions with Hooch start tonight - we're supposed to meet in the Ravenclaw Quidditch supplies cupboard at six, ok?"

"Okie doke."

He grimaced. "O-key- doke?" he repeated slowly. "Don't ever let me hear that come out of your mouth ever again."

She fought the urge to say 'okie okie artichokey' instead, opting for a simple "Sorry."

He waved her away from him and she jogged back to the other players, who had formed a circle, evidently discussing what rigmaroles to put her through. She cleared her throat to ensure she wasn't interrupting.

"Hey," Crabbe said. Goyle waved.

"Siddown," Malfoy instructed, looking harassed. She sat down next to him, and Warrington, sitting opposite her, smiled.

"Look, Jones, we really need you on the team," he said. He really seemed to come out of his shell when Flint wasn't around. "So we've been discussing what the easiest tasks we can set you without Flint killing us are."

"We won't ALL set you easy tasks," Montague interjected, his arms folded across his chest. "You're not that good."

"Ignore him," Malfoy said. Montague glared at him.

"Ignore me at your peril," he said snobbishly. "My task for you is-"

"Kiss me!" Malfoy suddenly exclaimed. AJ stared at him although nobody else looked surprised. "My task for you is you have to kiss me."

Montague scowled. "I was about to set MY task!"

"Well you weren't going to ask her to kiss you, were you?" Malfoy challenged.

Montague's scowl grew darker. "No. I'd never want the Gryffindork on me," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"So," Malfoy said, turning to her. She turned her attention from Montague to him.

"So what?"

"So kiss me. That's your task." He kneeled in front of her and closed his eyes. She didn't need to be told twice. With a massive grin on her face, she licked her lips, sat up straight and kissed him on the lips. Passionately. With a bit of tongue. He didn't seem to mind, right up until the end, where he seemed to come to his senses and pushed her away as if she were a raging skunk. He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. "Ahem... task completed."

"Bonus points for tongue!" Warrington added, looking truly amused.

"I hope you do my task with that much enthusiasm!" Goyle blubbered. Oh no, She really did not want to do anything like that with Goyle...

Goyle's challenge turned out to be finding four blades of grass of equal length; easy peasy, since the lawn was freshly mown. Crabbe made her touch her toes without bending her knees and Warrington made her do a handstand, which she couldn't actually do, but he allowed Malfoy to hold her feet up for her.

AJ was actually having quite a lot of fun doing these silly tasks, the five of them laughed and joked (Warrington almost cried with laughter at her solo handstand attempts) and they completely forgot that Montague was still sitting on his patch of grass, dreaming up Herculean trials for her.

"Enough of this tomfoolery!" he bellowed, standing up and grabbing AJ's ankles from Malfoy's grasp. He dropped her and she landed face first on the turf. "You, get up," he said, addressing the former Gryffindor. "Needless to say, you won't get a ludicrously easy task from me!" She stood up, twisting her head from side to side to loosen her neck after crashing onto the floor.

"What the hell is your problem, Montague?"

"You can't get on this team so easily! I had to shave a live cat to make it!" He yanked a sleeve up to show the long, silvery scars that marred him arm. So that's why Mrs Norris always looked so... choppy. "And you've been nothing but a thorn on my side since you showed up to those trials!" AJ didn't recollect annoying him... perhaps it had been that quaffle she had thrown at him. Montague cast a shadow over her in the fading light of the Friday evening, though he didn't tower over her in such a manner as Flint did.

"So what's her task then, Monty?" Warrington asked, a little irked that his old chum could be such a stick in the mud.

"You're going to love this, Gryffindork," Montague said, positively gleaming. "You'll never be able to do it." He looked almost maniacal. It was unnerving.

"So what is it?" she pressed.

He licked his lips in anticipation.

"You have to get Flint to kiss you."