Professor Binns had this knack for dragging out his lessons. Each lesson at Hogwarts was the standard 50 minutes long but his History of Magic lessons seemed to crawl by at the pace of a snail. Each tick of the second hand on the clock seemed to take an entire minute to tick by. It didn't help that his subject was one of the most boring ones that could have been picked.

I was sitting in the back of his classroom beside Daphne as she took notes on what he was saying. Really I should have been doing the same but I was too busy watching the clock hands tick as I counted down the seconds of the last minute of the lesson. It wasn't as if I needed to listen to him when he had been talking around the same subject for the last five minutes. Merlin, what had possessed me to take the subject in the first place?

The merciful tolling of the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson. I rose quickly from my chair to pack my things up. Once I was done, I glanced back at Daphne as she finished packing her things. Dropping into step beside me, we walked out of the classroom only to pause as a crowd of third years rushed passed us. We continued to walk in the direction of the common room only to find ourselves surrounded by a small group of Slytherin third years.

Malfoy and the twin idiots, I thought scrunching my nose. Daphne immediately engaged Malfoy in a conversation and I tried to do to make the best of my position between the two oafs. I let out a breath; this wouldn't do.

"I'm just going to head off," I said aloud. My words halted the conversation that Daphne had been having. She glanced over at me curiously.

"Wait."

"I'll meet you in the common room once I'm done," I promised, already pulling away from the group of them.

"At least tell me where you're going," She called out as I turned to head in the direction of the library.

"To the library, obviously," Malfoy answered before I could. "Where else would she go? It's like she'd have an aneurism if she doesn't go there. I'm beginning to think that you're just as bad as that mudblood Granger."

I rolled my eyes making sure that he saw it. I mean, honestly, what was the worst that he would do? Tell his daddy on me? The boy thought he held a lot of power within the Slytherin house. But I wasn't scared of him or of his daddy. My father worked alongside his and his father needed to keep mine happy. And as for mini Malfoy – well I knew all about his 'dirty' little secret.

"Aww Draco," I cooed, knowing fully well how much he hated it when it sounded as if someone was talking down to him. "I'm touch that you worry about me so much – really I am." I lowered my voice and took a step towards him so that only he would hear my next words. "You compared me to Granger, didn't you? Well I think I'm going to take that as a compliment considering how you feel about her that is?"

"What the hell are you blathering on about?" He demanded in a voice that seemed to give no hint of emotion except for annoyance. But I knew that I had rattled him. He was under the impression that no one knew about his secret.

"It's just that I'm starting to think that you might have a crush on Granger. I mean, you do mention her enough times in passing."

He chose not to speak another word. Instead he glared at me and brushed passed me making his minions chase after him. Daphne followed behind him, shooting me a curious look as she passed me by. She was curious about what I had said to set off mini Malfoy. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Maybe it's his hormones," I said quietly to her, "Puberty is a weird time."

She gave a quiet laugh before turning to chase after the three younger boys. I turned to walk in the opposite direction and in the direction of the library. Almost instinctively my shoulders relaxed as soon as I'd entered the library. None of the other members of my house seemed to understand why I had become so enamoured with the place. But they didn't want to escape all of the blood lunacy.

They were happy to be living in their narrow minded world, or rather they acted as if they were. But I did my best to avoid that world. It had only become worse after last year with the reappearance of some lunatic pretending to be the 'heir of Slytherin'. All of a sudden the chatter that was normally hushed because it was a taboo was discussed in the open and the horrific views of some of my housemates came to light.

Finding an empty table I sat down and pulled out some parchment. Opening my Care of Magical Creatures textbook to the right page I started my essay. I was only halfway through my first paragraph when I felt eyes on me. Shaking off the feeling as me simply overthinking things I continued to write. But as my quill scratched across the parchment the sensation grew until I couldn't ignore it.

Glancing up at my surroundings, I let my eyes scan across the room. Frowning slightly when I found no one even looking in my remote direction I shook my head. I was probably being paranoid.

Once I'd managed to rationalise with myself I looked curiously around the library again to see who else was in here. Scanning some of the tables that were further back in the library my eyes settled onto a head of bushy hair. Granger. Hmmm. So that meant that Draco would be a few shelves behind her, peaking at her from behind a shelf like a peeping Tom. Sure enough, there he was pretending to be studying a book.

Merlin that boy was too obvious. But then again – Granger had no idea that she was being watched. Taking my eyes off from the star crossed lovers I looked to see who else was in here. There were the obvious choices; the Ravenclaw.

Speaking of Ravenclaws – my eyes locked onto those of Roger Davies as he stared off into space. If I hadn't been able to tell from the dazed look in his eye that he was staring off in to space then it would have looked as if he was staring at me. So maybe I hadn't been paranoid but rather mistaken?

Davies seemed to snap himself out of it and made contact with my eyes again. He looked instantly down at the parchment in front of him. His cheeks flared pink and I looked back to my own parchment; that was weird.

This time my attention wasn't pulled away from my essay until I had finished it. I stood from my chair to leave and my eyes fell back onto Davies again and he still seemed to be struggling with whatever answer he was searching for. I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, could I use this as an excuse to not go to the common room and buy myself some time with it?

Well there was no harm in trying.

Picking up my school bag and placing it over my shoulder I made my way over towards his table. His quill was flying rapidly across the parchment and he didn't even look up at the sound of my footsteps.

"Do you need some help?" I asked.

He looked up at the sound of my voice. His hands instantly moved to cover whatever it was that he had been writing. So he hadn't been working on homework then?

"No-no thank you." He flashed me a small smile.

"Alright then," I muttered as I turned on my heel.

Maybe I had managed to avoid the pureblood drama in the common room tonight by spending even just a few minutes longer in the library.

**********

When the weather grew gradually hotter and the sun started to shine more often, it was normal for us, the Slytherins, to appear out from our dungeon and beside the Black Lake. The common room tended to get too stuffy when the weather was warmer and it was just easier to leave the common room rather than charm the entire common room to regulate the temperature. We would just stay under a tree by the lake to bask in the shade.

I was leaning against the tree trunk, sitting beside Daphne. I kept one ear on the conversation that was going on whilst simultaneously catching up on some of the reading that I needed to do for Professor Snape. I looked up briefly from the textbook that was open on my lap to see Malfoy striding towards the group of us.

He sat down beside me and I rolled my eyes. Everything about the way he was behaving screamed confrontation. Was the mini Malfoy already ready for another round?

He waited until everyone turned their attention from him and leaned towards me slightly. "You were becoming very ... chummy with Davies yesterday," he sneered as a greeting.

"The same way that you were becoming chummy with Granger?" I enquired, tilting my head to look at him.

"Why do you keep talking about that freak?" He demanded.

"You might think that you're being so incredibly secretive about your crush," I said lowering my voice. If anyone from the house found out about his feelings, it would cause a furore. "But honestly, Malfoy – hiding behind a book shelf to spy on the girl? I thought Malfoys were supposed to have more class than that?"

He turned away from me as if he was physically refusing to answer. I raised an amused eyebrow as he started a conversation with someone else. Quietly I turned back to the open textbook in my lap and continued where I had left off. Just because professor Snape was the head of my house didn't mean that he'd go any easier on me for not doing the work that he had set.

"That help you offered yesterday," A voice trailed off making me look up. Davies was standing on the outside of the group of Slytherins. I felt my eyebrows rise towards my hairline to see that he was unaffected by the intimidating stress that he was getting form some people. Most people found it difficult to approach one Slytherin let alone an entire group of them.

"What about it?" I asked making Daphne look between the two of us curiously.

"I could really use it."

"Um, yeah sure," I muttered closing my textbook and rising to my feet. Brushing my school skirt down properly I made my way towards where he had been standing.

He turned and led me away from the group. I followed after him quickly, wanting to escape the stares that were digging into the back of my head. When he reached another tree further down the lake he settled down onto the ground and put his bag down beside him. He was looking up at me, watching me.

I glanced down at him curiously when I realised that his expression was guarded. Somehow that single expression from him had the ability to get my heart racing. I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

"What was it that you needed help with?" I prompted, startling him from his daze.

"Right," he muttered under his breath and started to rummage through his bag.

I took the chance to sit down beside him, tucking my skirt down around my thighs as I stretched my legs out in front of me. Davies found whatever he had been looking for and I couldn't help but smile when I realised that he had pulled out his potions textbook as well as some parchment and ink. It looks like I wasn't the only one that was behind on the potions work.

"Have you finished the essay for Snape?" He asked before almost instantly recognising the guilty look on my face. "I'm going to take that as a no then."

"I started it," I said quietly, "But I haven't had the chance to finish it yet."

"No problem; let's do it together."

**********

"Who are you going to be rooting for tomorrow?" Davies asked as we worked in silence. He spoke over the sound of his quill against the paper. It had slowly become a habit for the two of us to seek each other out in order to complete some work. It was slightly alarming just how quickly we had settled into meeting in the library for scheduled session of working on whatever homework we had to do.

"Tomorrow?" I repeated curiously, not looking up from my text book. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"Merlin," he muttered under his breath, tapping my leg with the side of his shoe under the table to get my attention. I gave him a look and he rolled his eyes at me when I met his eyes. "Do you do anything else apart from study? There's a quidditch match tomorrow; Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw. Who are you rooting for?"

"No one." I closed my textbook with a small thump. "Besides as if you're one to talk about doing nothing apart from studying. If you didn't have quidditch then your nose would be permanently stuck in a book – we both know that."

"Maybe." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I do have quidditch. Let me rephrase my earlier question. You're going to be rooting for me tomorrow right?"

"Merlin you're persistent. Why am I going to be rooting for you tomorrow Davies?"

"Because I'm handsome." He leaned across the table, putting his face closer to me and grinning.

I let out a sigh and pushed him away from me with a finger against his forehead. "If I was going to be rooting for someone based on how handsome they are then I'd obviously be rooting for Hufflepuff."

"Why would you?" He demanded indignantly as if my words had wounded him.

"Because the Hufflepuff team has Cedric Diggory on their team and we can both admit, impartially, that he's more handsome than you are, Davies."

"You really know how to wound a man." He said with a pout.

"Let's call it a gift that I was born with."

"But honestly, you are going to be rooting for Ravenclaw tomorrow right?"

"Davies. I don't even know if I'm going to go to the match tomorrow."

But regardless of my words I found myself on the stands besides my fellow Slytherins as we waited for the match to start. What the hell was I doing here I wondered as I squished in between Daphne and some fourth year that I had no idea belonged to our house before today. Was it always so cramped?

Daphne gave me an obvious look of surprise when she saw me, "I'm surprised to see you out of the dorm."

"I'm surprised I'm here as well," I muttered making a wide smile appear on her face.

"So I take it that you're only here to support Ravenclaw then?" She asked.

"What gives you that idea?" I leaned over the railing slightly to see the two teams fly out onto the pitch.

"Because before whatever's been going on between you and Davies happened, I'd have never been able to drag you out to watch a quidditch match." Daphne explained.

"Nothing's going on between me and Davies," I said dismissively as I continued to look down at the two teams who were now on either side of madam Hooch. She was saying something to the captains of both teams. "We help each other with homework and that's all."

"If you say so." She poked me in my side to gain my attention. I turned to look at her. "So you're not supporting Ravenclaw then?"

"I'm not supporting anyone Daph." I rolled my eyes. "I'm only here as a curious spectator. I just want to see what all of the fuss is about."

"Sure." Her disbelief was obvious but I made no comment. "Tell that to your blue earrings and nails; what a way to show support for your – whatever Davies is to you – without drawing in too much suspicion."

"Really Daph?" I looked down at her hands that were holding on to the railing. Or rather her nails that had been painted a bright yellow. "By that logic then you're supporting someone on the Hufflepuff team." When she made no other response I felt my eyes widen, "You are supporting someone on that team, aren't you?"

"Keep your voice down," she hissed but did nothing else to deny my words. Interesting.

"Tell me when we're back in the dorms?" She nodded and I turned my attention back to the two teams who were still taking to Hooch. Honestly would this ever start?

"Stop doing that," Daphne said after a few moments and pulled my arm slightly. She pulled me away from the railing so that I wasn't leaning over it anymore. "Don't lean over the railing like that; if you do that during the match and one of the player's flies past you, you'll end up getting knocked off balance and falling to the floor if no one's fast enough to catch you. You might get hit by a bludger as well."

"Is quidditch a violent sport?" I wondered aloud, "Do the players really fly that quickly for me to be knocked off balance?"

Daphne snorted as though my question was stupid but I for one thought it was perfectly valid. When she saw that I wasn't joking, her eyes widened.

"Quidditch is an extremely violent game. It's not considered a real game unless someone gets injured whilst playing."

"Really?"

She nodded, "Of course."

"Then why do people continue to play it then?"

"Because it's fun."

"More fun than being alive?" I muttered seriously questioning the mental sanity of any and every quidditch player ever. "I somehow doubt it."

"Stop talking," Daphne muttered, the corner of her lips turned up in amusement. "The match is about to start and I don't want to miss a moment of it."

"Because your boyfriend's playing?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits, glaring fiercely at me. "Don't make me silencio you." She raised her wand threateningly and I pretended to zip my lips. "Now anymore questions before the match starts?"

"One."

"Make it quick." She said as the whistle was blown. Her head turned back to the game as the players started to move.

"What is a bludger?"

Daphne glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Merlin, Davies is going to have a lot to teach you about quidditch. How can you not know what a bludger is?"

"It's not exactly critical knowledge is it?"

*********

"What do you want Roger?" I asked, pausing mid word when I saw a figure approaching me from the corner of my eye.

"How did you know it was me?"

I rolled my eyes; I could practically hear the sound of the pout in his voice. Turning my attention back to the sentence that I had been writing, I saw him walk around the table to sit across from me. He waited patiently for me to finish the paragraph and only spoke when I had set the quill down on the table.

"So how did you know it was me then?"

"Only you would be stupid enough to disturb me when I'm busy," I said giving him a look.

Roger only grinned in response. "You say stupid; I say brave."

"No one's asking you to be brave Roger. That's the work of the Gryffindors, you should just stay with your head in a book."

"Don't stereotype," he chided, scrunching his mouth slightly in distain. "You know it annoys me."

"That's why I do it so often," I muttered. "What did you want anyway Roger? You clearly approached me for a reason?"

"Oh right." He straightened up in his seat and began to search through his pockets. Pulling a folded piece of parchment from his pocket he slid it across the table towards me. I reached my hand out for the parchment but he put his hand on top of it. "You can't read it now."

"What makes you think that I want to read it at all?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you remember the day you first offered to help me?" I nodded and he continued. "Well this is the parchment I tried to hide that day."

"Alright," I admitted, "Maybe I do want to read it now."

"But you can't read it now," he repeated firmly, removing his hand from on top of the parchment, looking me dead in the eye.

"When can I read it then?" I reached my hand out to take a hold of it. I looked at it curiously; what was so important about a single piece of parchment?

"You can read it when I leave. But you have to do me a favour."

"What favour?" I asked cautiously.

"It's nothing serious," he reassured me, "I just want you to come to quidditch practice once you've read it and tell me what you think about it."

"You need my opinion on something?" I asked, my tone teasing in order to try and lift some of the seriousness from Roger. "This isn't a poem that you've written is it? You don't strike me as the type to write poetry Roger – unless it's about quidditch or arithmancy that is."

"It's not a poem," he said with a roll of his eyes. Rising from his seat he shot a quick glance at the clock on the wall. "I've got quidditch practice – I should get going. But remember to read it."

"I will, I will." I assured him and watched him leave the library.

The moment that he was out of my line of sight, I opened up the parchment and flattened it down onto the table. An involuntary smile made its way onto my face when I read over its content.

Why didn't this surprise me?

If there was one thing that I learn about Roger it was that he liked to break down everything that he couldn't understand into sections of small information so he could handle a problem bit by bit. And when it came to making a decision he broke everything down into categories, consequences and even measured out the pros and cons of every decision that he made.

It seemed as if the same thing applied to the girl that he liked as well. I ignored the stab of jealousy I felt and looked down at the parchment properly.

He had divided aspects of her into categories and marked her out of 10!

"Merlin," I muttered under my breath, "That boy is something else."

Beauty, intelligence, wit were only a few of the categories that he had considered about her. He was certainly thorough, I thought looking down the categories – every possible aspect that made up a person was listed down.

He'd even marked the chances that he thought he had with her. 30% - that was what he gave his chances with her. But a questions still stood; what did he want me to do?

He had said that he wanted my opinion on the content of the parchment but I had no idea what to say about it. Was I supposed to have an opinion? Unless he wanted me to help him raise his chances above 30%?

I rose from my seat and tidied up my stuff. The only way that I would find out the answers to my questions would be if I went to see him. Making my way down to the quidditch pitch, I sat myself at the top of the stands in between the rest of the spectators. I hadn't realised that so many people came out to watch these practices.

Looking down into the pitch I scanned each of the players until I caught sight of Roger. He looked up at me and waved his hand. I gave him a small wave in return and pulled a book out from my bag. There would be no point in disrupting their practice. I'd just have to wait until they had finished.

Probably no more than twenty minutes later, I turned the final page of the book when a voice startled me. "Hey."

I jumped slightly in shock, the book slipping from my fingertips. It fell between the stands and I let out a sigh. I reached down to pick it up but Roger's hands beat me to it.

"Really? You couldn't have waited for five more minutes?" I asked as he sat down beside me. "I was just on the last page."

Giving me an amused smile, he held out the book for me to take. "So, what did you think?"

"What was I supposed to think?" I asked truthfully.

He gave me an annoyed look, "So you felt nothing then?"

"I thought it was very sweet."

"And?" He prompted.

"I just don't understand what you want me to do." He sent me a flabbergasted look until he leaned closer, seemingly searching my face for something. "What?"

Recognition seemed to dawn on him, "What a second; who do you think I was writing about?"

"How am I supposed to know who it's about? I was kind of hoping that you would be able to tell me who it was about – so, you know, I can help set you up."

He sighed through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. "You."

"Pardon?" I gave him a look hoping that I hadn't misunderstood. If I had then this would cause a huge rift in our friendship.

"It was about you," he repeated firmly, leaving no chance for me to misunderstand. He sat in silence waiting for it to sink in.

"You gave me a seven!" I reached over to slap his arm.

He winced as I hit him. "Well you do tend to be oblivious; you have a hard time to picking up on the obvious things."

"Wait, wait, wait," I muttered reflecting back to the list. "You gave yourself a 30% chance?"

He looked away from me momentarily and I followed his eyes. He was watching his teammates pour out of the changing rooms and make their way back to the castle. "I did."

"That was wrong, by the way."

"It's probably a zero in truth," He gave me a look. "It's my own fault – I put myself in the friend zone."

"It's probably more of a nine," I said watching his facial expression change completely.

"Not a ten then?" He asked playfully.

"No," I said nudging him with my shoulder. "You're way too annoying."

**********

6 YEARS LATER

Once we had left Hogwarts, Roger had pursued a career in quidditch and had managed to become one of the youngest chasers in the history of the game. Or so he told me. I still had a relatively small amount of knowledge about the game but he still insisted that I accompanied him to the games whenever I managed to get some time off from work.

That was why I was sitting here, in the area designated for the player's family beside Roger's parents. The same parents that I had managed to avoid meeting for the last six years. In comparison to Roger's family, mine was more tradition and as a result, they adhered to more traditionally pureblood customs. One such custom was that the only girl you introduced your family to was the one you were going to marry.

I tried hard to ignore the looks I was getting from Roger's mother who was clearly curious about who I was. Instead I looked out at the pitch, praying that one of the seekers would just hurry up to catch the snitch already. Someone must have been listening to my prayers because the snitch was caught and the game came to an end, Roger's team winning the match.

The players headed to get changed before coming up to the stands, greeting their family. I stepped away from Roger's parents who rushed forwards to congratulate their son. He returned their embrace before disentangling himself from them to make his way over to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he hugged me tight, lifting me off the ground slightly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him back.

"On a scale of one to ten how annoyed are you right now?" He muttered into my neck.

"Eleven," I said, pulling away from him slightly, seeing the looks we were getting from his parents.

"Can you blame me?" He asked, keeping his arms around my waist to keep me close to him. "Any time I mention my parents you run away as if someone's after you."

"But still." I frowned up at him, the frown becoming bigger when he chucked affectionately. "A little warning would have been nice."

"If I had warned you then you wouldn't have come. You'd have claimed to have not been able to get the day off from work." He dropped a kiss to my lips. "Admit it."

"Don't try to act smart with me Davies," I said, stepping away from him. "You're still in trouble."

"And I'll make it up to you tonight." He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, looking down at me. "Now no more running."

"Roger," I whined under my breath. If he'd given me a bit more of a warning then I could have dressed up a bit more to make a better first impression.

Ignoring me, Roger led me over to his parents who had been watching our interaction closely. When we stood in front of the older wizard and witch, Roger dropped his arm from around my shoulder to take my hand instead.

"Mum, Dad, this is my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you," I said quietly, tightening my drip on Roger's hand. Merlin I'd never felt so nervous. Roger squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, dear." His mum said, stepping forward to hug me. I heard Roger chuckle knowingly from beside me; he knew how much I hated strangers touching me. Even if that stranger was my boyfriend's mother.

Roger's mother pulled away from me and went to stand beside her husband once again. This time Roger's dad spoke up

"Why have you been hiding her for so long?" I looked cautiously at Roger who was smiling at his dad, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "Here I was thinking you were dating a troll or something, son. Not a literal angel."

I blushed uncomfortable with the compliment, turning into Roger slightly. Roger hadn't been the one hiding me, I'd been the one hiding away.

"Make sure you bring her around for dinner soon," His mum said as a parting.

When the older couple had left us alone, I looked up at him. He was already looking at me with a beaming grin. He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead.

"See?" He said affectionately. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"It wasn't." I admitted reluctantly. There was nothing worse than admitting to Roger that he had been right and I had been wrong. It just made his ego inflate.

"So I was right then?" He wrapped his arms around me, grinning teasingly.

I pushed him away from me only to be pulled back again. "Don't push it Davies." I rose onto my toes to press a kiss to his lips. "Congratulations for winning the game."

"It was a team effort," he muttered against my lips before leaning back. "I didn't do much."

"Says the chaser who scored the most goals during the match."

"I was lucky." He waved his hand dismissively, making me narrow my eyes at him. "What?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" I raised an eyebrow. "You've never been so humble."

"Oh, ha ha." He said sarcastically. "If you keep acting like this then I'm not going to give you your anniversary present."

Giving him a calculating look, I started to walk with Roger following after me. "I don't want it."

"You don't want it," he repeated in alarm as we appeared at one of the apparition points. "What do you mean you don't want it?"

"I mean exactly that." I wrapped my arm around him to prepare for apparition. "Last year you spent a ridiculous amount of money on my present and I don't want a repeat of that. No offence Roger, I love you, I really do, but I don't feel comfortable with you spending so much money on me."

"Why?" He asked with a pout as he apparated us into our shared apartment. "It's not like I'm trying to buy you or –"

His voice trailed off as he set his eyes on the already set table. Walking towards the table, he came to a stop beside it and looked back at me.

"Happy anniversary." I gave him a smile. "The game was longer than I thought it'd be so it took some serious coordination to make sure that nothing went cold or bad or - "

Roger silenced me with a kiss.

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