By S_Star

'If one was of diamond and one was of stone, which would shatter first?'

Disclaimer: I don't own a single hair on Draco's gorgeous blond head. Or any other characters, but we don't care about them, right? I mean, no offence intended, but I don't really want to own Ron. (Please, no flames about that; I'm entitled to an opinion.)

Oh., and the term 'Malfoyesque' has been taken from Maya's 'Draco Malfoy, the Amazing ?' which is my favourite fic. It can be found at authorLinks/Maya/Amazing_Bouncing_Rat/ and I recommend you read it because it is so frickin' hilarious!

Feedback: If you write yourself, you will understand that hunger for reviews, that burning desire to know what people think, always striving to improve and lapping up any comments that may be left, that anticipation right before you click 'Stats' to see your reviews and the thrill of seeing that you have, in fact, got more than when you last checked, and the way in which your eyes rake over the review page, absorbing every detail, etc, , review!

Dedication: For DK, who's pretty much been my lifeline this Christmas, and kept me sane in the face of cooking and *shudders* relatives.

Questions and Quidditch

Draco smiled smugly and opened his mouth to make one of his oh so witty comments, but before he could, Hermione had turned and brushed past him to catch up with Harry and Ron and explain what exactly was going on without giving anything away. That wouldn't be too hard, right?

Scowling, Draco turned and stalked back towards the Slytherin common room. After the double potions lesson they'd just had to endure, there was an early lunch and then the match this afternoon.

To tell the truth, Draco had absolutely no interest whatsoever in how Gryffindor fared that afternoon, or Ravenclaw really. The Slytherin team had so far played two matches, one against Hufflepuff and one against Ravenclaw, and they'd won them both, whereas Gryffindor had only played one, versus Hufflepuff, and had done the impossible and lost due to was probably the most polite way of putting it, of one of their beaters. He didn't like the Gryffindors, that much would always be true, but he honestly didn't think they'd be stupid enough to let Ronald Weasley within a five-foot radius of a broomstick, especially with a bat in his hand. But kind, gallant Harry Potter had decided to offer his freckled friend a position on the team, for lack of anyone better, and quite probably out of pure pity. To Draco, this was the one time the Boy Who Lived a Sad and Pathetic Life had truly shown the courage that everyone kept droning on about.

In conclusion, the only reason this match was worth going to was for the humour value of the Weasel's performance, but that was actually quite a good incentive to attend.

'Parseltongue,' he said and entered the common room, where the rest of Slytherin, at least those who had anything remotely resembling a life of their own, were lounging around absently before lunch and Crabbe and Goyle were standing around like lemons just inside the door waiting for him.

'What did Snape want?' asked Goyle, slightly muffled by the cake he'd somehow managed to acquire, but Draco didn't question those two when it came to food.

'Detention Friday at eight,' he answered simply, seating himself on one of the leather couches, hands behind his head and feet resting on the nearest table.

'Snape gave YOU a detention?' asked Blaise Zabini from the couch perpendicular to his, lowering the magazine she'd been reading and looking at him in disbelief.

'McGonagall was there too, so.' He shrugged, picking up Blaise's magazine from the table and flicking through it disinterestedly before tossing it back down again.

'Well, you don't really seem bothered about it. I thought you'd at least try and complain about it. I mean, we're talking about Snape here. He's more afraid of your dad than you are!'

'No, why would I be bothered about being stuck in the dungeons with Granger for hours?'

Blaise squinted at him, trying to tell whether he was being sincere or sarcastic. Draco's reticence was one of his most annoying features, and what was especially annoying was the fact that he was . With anyone else, people would've been able to tell, no matter how much they tried to hide it, what they were really saying, but part of his character prevented that, and even Blaise, who had a strange talent for seeing through people, had never been able to figure him out, and although he was among 'friends' if the Slytherins could be called that, the force field he seemed to have around him never wavered. And this was never questioned.

Giving up, Blaise picked up the magazine again and turned back to the page with an interesting debate about 'Makeup: Magic vs Muggle' in which the wizarding world were once again triumphing before taking another approach. 'Yeah, we heard about you and Granger. What's up with that?'

'Well,' he began, and she couldn't help but lower the magazine again to get a proper look at him. 'She's constantly in the library, so I went down there to her.' There it was, that glint in his eyes that seemed to turn them from their usual steel blue into a liquid silver, which only appeared when he was up to something.

'Talking?' She raised an eyebrow, a skill which seemed to have been acquired by all the Slytherins. 'Is that all?'

At this, he did show some emotion: his mouth twisted into what had been over the years labelled his 'Evil Smirk', not to be confused with his 'Triumphant Smirk', his 'Smug Smirk' and his 'I-just-kicked-some-Gryffindor- butt Smirk'.

'I assure you, it was purely a business meeting.'

That smirk, like all the others, was not to be taken lightly. It was as important a symbol of his Malfoy-ness as his hair and eyes. But unlike his hair and eyes, whose only function seemed to be to turn every girl in a ten mile radius into a puddle of jelly, that smirk served a specific purpose.

It was a sign that he was plotting something evil. For anyone else, that could be taken lightly, and some people may even have taken it that way in Draco's they were very foolish. Because in the case of Draco - or any Malfoy for that matter - something evil meant something EVIL; some dastardly deed or poisonous plot that could or would end in pain, torment and blood, or at least immense personal gain.

Which is why, at the sight of the smirk, Blaise decided to leave the subject alone for as long as possible, because it wasn't usually - well, ever - wise to question or enter the direct vicinity of a Malfoy when he had that look in his eyes, no matter how hot it made him. She smirked her own smirk then, a very Blaise smirk that could only apply when her thoughts had drifted into the nearest gutter.

At this, Draco raised his own eyebrow and glanced around the common room for something to either read, steal or destroy. He liked Blaise, he really did. She was pretty much the only person in the whole house who could hold a decent conversation without either mentioning the Dark Lord, shoving food into her mouth every ten seconds, or stopping to think of something to say. It was hardly surprising that she held the position of third in the year, after himself and Granger, or that she was the other Slytherin prefect.

She had two faults that he really noticed, however, and they were the fact that her mind practically had its own reserved space in the gutter where it was located at that moment, and the other was her talent for divination.

Not just the future-telling side of it, well, really, not the future part at all. No, it was her knowledge of the present that scared him. He'd mentioned this to Pansy once, and she'd just giggled and said he was silly for thinking that divination applied to the present, though obviously not in those exact words. But it was.

Blaise seemed to possess a realistic form of psychic power whereby she could see what anyone was thinking at any time. He wasn't sure whether she was just a good judge of character, expression and body language or whether she was just plain psychic, but it was disconcerting to be 'analysed' by her. It was quite obvious when she was doing that; she had a look on her face of concentration, and Draco always had to doubly guard his thoughts around her. Okay, so he wasn't ashamed of what he was doing to Granger; a Malfoy's gotta do what a Malfoy's gotta do, but he didn't really want anyone to know about it. It was their dirty little secret.

He smirked again at this, his 'Cat-that-ate-the-canary Smirk', which could sometimes be confused with the 'Smug Smirk', but anyone who knew him well enough to look closely could see that his mouth was more turned-up like a regular smile when it was the former.

Actually, thinking of eating, wasn't it about lunchtime? Glancing at the clock that stood in the corner of the common room, which was similar to the one in the Weasleys' house, except with hands labelled with each year number, and another one for prefects, one for the Quidditch team, as well as occasionally individual pupils if they had detentions or appointments, he noticed that all the hands were now pointing at the place where the twelve would be, which was currently labelled 'Lunch: Great Hall'.

Propelling himself out of his chair with enviable grace, he started for the exit, and as if on some silent signal, the rest of the population of the common room also rose and followed their unspoken leader to the Great Hall before they were to witness the Weasel's next big performance.

***

Hermione was sitting by Parvati, Lavender and Ginny at the Gryffindor table, trying to stop herself from standing up and pacing the length of the Hall as she waited for Ron and Harry to come in. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to explain to them, they wouldn't understand, and there was no way she could go into too much detail without Malfoy telling everybody how was she going to do it?

She couldn't get any advice from Parvati and Lavender; they were too busy questioning her on what it felt like to kiss 'that , I know he's a Slytherin, but you can't argue with a body like that.' to listen to her denial.

Ginny was smarter; she understood that something Malfoyesque was afoot, but until she could find out what, there was no way she could help. She was at that moment trying to hold Hermione down and assure her that the boys wouldn't be mad, but she know how possessive they were, especially her brother, and there was no way this could happen which didn't involve yelling, accusations and some curses, if not punches, thrown at the aforementioned 'sex-god'.

Just then, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team entered the hall to thunderous applause, but it was nothing compared to the standing ovation the Gryffindors received from all except Slytherin, who were busily eating away at the chicken legs the house elves had so thoughtfully supplied, only bothering to turn and whistle when Ron entered the hall, his blush as red as his hair as he tried to sneak to his seat without being noticed, a feat which defined the word 'impossible'.

When he and Harry had reached the table with the minimum amount of Slytherin laughter possible, they instantly turned and fixed their gaze on Hermione, who'd been watching their progress, applauding with the rest of the hall.

'So, how did you do on the potions exam? I know I failed, I mean, not like normal, I really know; Snape said. I mean, that last potion just shrivelled up and I knew it was wrong before I even did it, just like with the first two-'

'Okay, Hermione, breathe,' said Ginny, noticing her friend's voice getting shriller as it always did when she panicked.

'You mean the great Hermione Granger knew she was failing and didn't do anything about it?' asked Ron. It was hard to tell whether he was being sarcastic or just plain rude, so Hermione concluded that he was trying to decide whether or not he was still 'talking to her'.

'I ,' she said by way of explanation.

'By your new boyfriend?' he asked, and this time his voice contained real bitterness.

'What?'

'He means Malfoy,' explained Harry. Although he was usually more forgiving than Ron, the way in which he spat out those words didn't give Hermione any more confidence in her situation.

'Well, yes,' she admitted, before realising WHAT she'd admitted. 'I mean, no. Well, he was distracting me, but not like that, you see-' She was cut off again, this time by the blue-eyed stare fixed on her from over Ron's shoulder.

'What she means is that Malfoy's up to something, but she can't tell anyone what because it's Malfoy,' explained Ginny, and Hermione made a mental note to buy her that new quill she wanted by way of thanks. For now, she settled for a look of gratitude, followed by one of shock.

'Yeah, right,' scoffed Ron, shoving a spoonful of mashed potato into his mouth, disputing the usual pre-match custom of being too nervous to eat a thing.

'What?' asked the girls simultaneously.

Even Harry had the decency to be worried by this. 'Ron, I really wouldn't put it past him to-'

'Yeah, but they got detentions for being in the library after-hours. Together.' He fixed a glare on Hermione. 'Pass the gravy.'

'Well, that's true,' began Hermione.

'Exactly, and if nothing's going on between you, why were you there?'

'Ron, I was studying for the potions exam when I fell asleep, and then he came in and woke me up.' Okay, this was beginning to get exasperating. Hermione should've remembered that trying to prove something to Ron Weasley was like teaching a brick wall to speak Parseltongue, she'd been through it enough times, and she sometimes imagined that a brick wall would be much easier to work with.

'Why did he wake you up, then? Why was he down there unless he was meeting you for some kind of.' He shuddered, 'Rendezvous?'

At any other time, Ron's abysmal pronunciation, or rather his abuse of the French language, would have appeared funny, much like Filch and the air quotes.

At the memory of this, she did laugh, almost hysterically, receiving confused stares from all the tables and raised eyebrows from everyone in Slytherin except Malfoy himself, who was doing that sincere thing he'd taken to since that morning.

She eventually managed to calm down to the hiccoughing stage after being vigorously slapped on the back by Ginny, and Ron seemed to take that response to the idea of a 'rendezvous' between her and Draco to be a clear enough sign of innocence, and turned back to his now gravy-soaked potatoes without question as conversation to the effect of 'you'll do great, Harry, stop worrying!' flew over his head.

***

As usual, the whole school had turned out for the match, whether to encourage one or both of the teams or just to watch 'The Weasel Show' as it had been dubbed at lunchtime in one of Draco's weirder moments.

Hermione was seated in her normal place on the Gryffindor stands, next to Ginny with her giant 'GO TEAM!' banner on one side and, to her extreme dismay, Lavender on the other, who appeared to have vowed that she would not stop questioning Hermione until she knew every detail of Malfoy's mouth, a thought which made Hermione glad she hadn't eaten that much for lunch.

But she knew that when the match began, none of that would matter. She loved watching Quidditch, not to see her team win as she knew many of her housemates did, but so that she could fly.

It was strange how much she loved flying. She could listen to Harry rave about it for hours and completely identify. The feeling that she could fly forever and never have to get down was what blew her mind, not that the freedom or the speed wasn't breathtaking. It was that she sometimes wanted to escape, and she knew she could, one day.

She'd been taunted by the Quidditch team on numerous occasions for her apparent fear of flying when she didn't want to have a go on the Firebolt at one of their practices, but she did have a broom of her own.

The only reason she didn't really fly as much as so many others was because there was no chance. In first year, they had flying lessons, but once they knew the basics of riding a broomstick, it stopped, and there was really no reason for anyone besides the house Quidditch teams to fly. It really made the mandatory purchase of a broomstick at the beginning of their time at Hogwarts seem completely pointless when you considered it.

But she still had the broom she'd got that August, and she still flew when she could. But watching the way the players flew, as they were now, with their grace, their could get completely lost in these matches, watching the speed with which the chasers chased, the aptitude of the Keepers, the urgency with which the Beaters sped to and fro across the pitch, and of course the amazing swift and accurate motions of the Seekers.

But today it was not to be. As much as she tried to get absorbed in the game again, she couldn't stop staring into the twin pools of ice that remained fixed on her from the Slytherin stands for the duration of the match.

AN - this chapter was by far the most fun to write so far, especially the conversation between Blaise and Draco. It was also a lot more light- hearted than the other chapters, which is strange. So, what did you think? Did it feel out of place or natural? It's weird, my narrative style seems to change with the content of the chapters, so I write darker when the content's darker or something. I don't know, so again I call for your opinion. And you know how to do that, don't you?

REVIEW! NOW! Go on, there's a little purple-y button at the bottom of the you're afraid, AUNT JOSEPHINE (sorry, I've been reading 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' by Lemony Snicket (an anagram of 'Let's nick money'), available at almost all remotely decent bookstores and full of woe). Anyway, I think it was Dizzy who said that reviews are the life and death of the fiction, and that's about right, wouldn't you say? So let me live! Aw, come on! I'll give you a cookie! See, that gotcha! What, you're still here? OK, read this part, and THEN review, but I'm not gonna ask again, so you'd better do me, I can make it worth your while ^_~

OK, I wanna thank everyone who reviewed during that brief time without a plot when my fave red notebook went missing, but thankfully I found my memory and the matching red disk that had fallen down the back of my desk and was discovered when I was reorganising my room for Xmas, and I now have a plotline and the last paragraph of the fic. It's gonna be an epic (though not quite as epic as 'I Won't Walk Away' by Slytherin Girl, probably the longest fic I've read, and one of the best - read it! Hey, ironically enough, that song's just started playing as I'm writing .) so hold , saying that, my last epic suddenly stopped after about 13 chapters when I killed off the main characters (in a tasteful way that made some people cry and fit with the plot), so I'm not really the best judge.

So, onto the personal messages (this is the most fun part of writing this fic, what does that tell you about me?).

dracoluver99 - one of the best you've ever read? Really? Wow, thanx! Oh, and I read your story, but since I downloaded it and read it offline, I haven't reviewed, but when I check out the latest chapter, I will. I LOVE IT!

A-writer-for-life (not logged in this time) - thanx, but for some reason it just changes it to a dash when I type an knows why, it's not like no one has underscores in their usernames. Oh well, I'm still me!

Felicity - here's one of the next chapters, and believe me, there'll be plenty more!

hasapi - thank you! And yes, Snape has yet to recognise her genius.

Adel - just a guess, but are you a Final Fantasy fan? ^_^ And C4 is here! Now you've just got 5, 6, 7, wait for!

Biohelixx - here's more! And I hope I didn't sound too rude saying the punctuation was correct, I feel like I've offended you now! If I have, feel free to reprimand me.

hyper_shark - thanx again!

PassionPolice237 - well, here's more to get into, and I have it saved on one disc, 3 computers and a CD so I won't ever lose it again!

Elluxion - thank you! And no matter how many times I type it with an underslash it still puts a dash. Grr.

Ichigo - found it, saved it so many times it seems extreme even to me, and am ready to write!

some one (x2) - will do!

Tearful Spider - I can understand your name now. ^_^ I just thought it was better that y'all knew my plight, and anyway, I'm back and writing!

drych - got 2 reviews to talk about, so scroll down a little further!

mab (x2) - you don't have to wait that much longer!

hobbit shortness - thank you so much! Yeah, I love Enya. My family have every single song she's ever done! And I've gotta agree, May It Be is the best one (judging by your username and fiction, I take it you got it from the LotR soundtrack? Me too!). Oh, and Flora's Secret is track 6 on her album 'A Day Without Rain', and if you want a copy, I'm meant to be sending one to drych, so just ask! The new chapter's as good as ever, and still I want more! Draco will always be smart, and Snape will always be an unwashed things just never change! And that's how the blackmail was meant to be.I'm glad someone appreciates it! And, as I said, it's gonna be epic, so you don't have to worry about the length. And merry belated Xmas and a happy new year!

drych - I'll pass it on to DK, I know she'll appreciate it! Yeah, I can send you a copy of Flora's always remember that I said, it's there for a reason. Yep, I like the Mia 's weird, it kinda just suddenly started when I couldn't be bothered to type Hermione's whole . The , could be fun. I'm not saying anything just yet, though; you'll have to wait and see. Y'know what? When I lost the book, I came up with all these little scenes and touches I didn't think of before, and when I read through the previous ideas on the lost disc, I realised how much more I could add and improve, so yeah, I'm hoping it's gonna be all good. I loved the idea, and I e-mailed you about it.

Oh, wait, just told 's glad you like it and has actually written three paragraphs of the next chapter (that's the most she's ever written of one fic!)

Thanx again!

Anyway, for everyone who's read or is reading this, who has or hasn't reviewed, there's lots more to come, hopefully in the very near future, so keep posted and have a happy new year!

*S_Star, whose username is not as annoying as her brother who's trying to open this file on the other computer on the network and hijack , I'M WATCHING YOU!*