Ron sulked for an entire day when I was invited to one of Slughorn's dinner parties and he wasn't.

"Look, I don't even want to go!" I snapped. "I have enough on my plate with tutoring Malfoy and having to get on with my own work."

"So, I suppose you'll be sitting with McLaggen?" He pouted. "Getting all cosy over crystallised pineapple and hot tanks of Butterbeer!"

"Why yes, maybe I will, Ronald!" I snapped, "but don't pretend you even care when you can't stop staring at Lavender's tits!"

"I already told you, she had a bit of mustard down her front. It was distracting!"

"Whatever," I muttered, feeling irritated.

I wore my lowest cut top on my way out to Slughorn's dinner that night and made sure that Ron saw.

To my satisfaction, his jaw fell open.

"You're not going out wearing that, are you?!" He spluttered as his eyes bulged out at my cleavage.

"No, I'm not going out anywhere, Ron," I said airily, flipping my hair back over my shoulder. "You see, the Slug Club is held within the confines of the castle. Don't wait up."

And with my head held high, I strutted out of the common room, leaving him spluttering pathetically behind.

I clearly had not thought this clever plan out beyond getting Ron's back up, however, and had to endure an entire evening watching Cormac wiping the drool from his chin as he spoke at length to my tits.

*****

"So, I hear you've become part of Slughorn's little collection."

I looked up from the assignment I was working on and raised an eyebrow, not having missed the evident disdain in Draco's voice.

We were in the library, during another study session. It soon transpired that he didn't really need my tutoring, just someone to make sure he was taking the time to complete his work. So here we were, both working side by side on our homework together. The strangest thing was, I found I was enjoying these sessions. It made a nice change from Ron and Harry constantly harassing me for the answers and begging to copy my work. Draco just got on with it, every now and then glancing up to throw a smirk at me... or was it a smile?

"You know," I said, grinning wickedly at him, "you sounded just like Ron then."

The horror on his face was amusing to say the least.

He quickly recovered it, his scowl returning. "I don't understand what the fuss is about, myself. Why on earth would anyone want to sit across from some fat old has-been as he stuffs his face with food is anyone's guess."

"He actually has some fascinating stories to share," I said idly as I continued to scratch quill against parchment. "And sometimes he even invites past students to join us. Some player from the Hollywood Harpies is apparently bringing us dessert next week. Gwen or something like that."

I glanced up to see a smile twitching at his lips. "It's Holyhead Harpies, Granger. And that would be Gwenog Jones. She's the captain and Beater."

"Oh yes, that's right," I nodded. "I don't know, all this fuss over Quidditch. You wouldn't think anything else existed the way Ron and Harry harp on about it."

"You're not a fan?" Draco asked slowly. I noticed he'd stop writing altogether, his eyes trained very much on me instead. "I have to say, that's surprising coming from someone who used to date Bulgaria's top Seeker."

I scrunched up my nose, finally placing my quill down. "I didn't date Viktor. Not really. I only agreed to go with him to the ball to annoy Ron."

To my surprise, a soft chuckle emitted from Draco's lips. "You like to annoy Weasley, don't you?"

"Oh. Is it that obvious?"

"Possibly to everyone but him. The idiot."

"Don't call him that," I said at once, feeling suddenly uneasy. It wasn't right to talk about Ron like this, especially not to his sworn enemy.

"Why not?" Draco shrugged carelessly. "He's clearly blind to what is right in front of him."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my heart suddenly thudding at quite a fierce rate.

"Well... you."

Our eyes met and I felt a frisson of something in the air between us. It was so shocking and so real, almost like electricity.

I cast my gaze immediately back down, feeling my face suddenly grow hot.

"You know, I think we've covered enough for one night," I said quickly packing away my things. "It's getting late and I'm suddenly feeling ever so tired."

"Granger, wait-"

"Goodnight!" I said in an overly cheery voice, refusing to meet his eye as I hastily threw my bag over my shoulder, messing up my hair in my attempt to get moving as quickly as possible.

"Granger-"

But I was too flustered to stay. I simply couldn't wait to get away from him fast enough, terrified of the way he had made me feel.

*****

That Saturday, despite the freezing cold winds, I walked into Hogsmeade with Ron and Harry.

All Ron did was grumble that Harry was more interested in the Half-Blood Prince than him.

"Yeah right." Ron scoffed when Harry claimed it wasn't as though he were sleeping with it. "I like a nice chat before I go to bed. Now you're always reading that bloody book. It's like being with Hermione."

I rounded on him, feeling a spark of anger. "You know, I'm starting to wonder why I still hang out with you." I snapped, placing my hands furiously on my hips. "Malfoy is nicer to me than you these days and that's saying a lot!"

"Malfoy?" Harry frowned, instantly pushing Ron aside so that he was now standing directly in front of me. "What's Malfoy been saying now? Has he made any hints as to what he might be up to? Have you managed to get a good look at his arm yet? I was thinking at your next tutorial, maybe crank up the heating in the library or something so that he has to roll up his sleeves-"

I pushed past him, rolling my eyes. "I'm getting a Butterbeer," I announced haughtily, stepping into the Three Broomsticks. "Do whatever you two wish to do."

They followed me in, purely, I suspected, to get out of the cold more than anything else.

"Aw, bloody hell..." Ron muttered behind me.

I looked to the source of his discomfort. Ginny was sat in the corner, wrapped in a heated embrace with Dean Thomas.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald. They're just hugging... I think."

I squinted, trying to make out their faces which I realised now were glued together. "And snogging."

"I'd like to leave."

"Leave? Dude, it's your round!" Harry complained, acting as though his pockets weren't already bulging with gold.

"That happens to be my sister!" Ron spluttered, going puce.

"So?" I muttered. "What if she looked over here and saw you snogging me? Would you expect her to get up and leave?"

"Sounds like you'd much rather be snogging McLaggen, or dare I even say Malfoy!" Ron spat bitterly. "Perhaps I should start ogling your tits and calling you a Mudblood every five seconds. Clearly it's what does it for you these days."

"Guys, I'm thirsty," Harry whined, wiping the steam off his glasses with his cloak.

"I'm not snogging anyone!" I yelled, not caring that everyone in the pub had gone quiet and was looking at us with interest. "For your information, I've been waiting for the right guy-"

"Well let me know when you've found him," Ron snarled, "perhaps a bit of kissing might even cheer your miserable backside up."

"What would you know?" I hissed. "It's not like you've ever kissed anyone either!"

"Yeah, well... maybe I'm waiting for the right girl. Just a pity I haven't met her yet."

I saw red, and struck. His face stung my hand in the same way that his words had stung my heart.

My vision was blinded with tears as I turned and ran towards the toilets. So much so, that I ended up colliding with an unsuspecting figure who had just come through the ladies door.

Hands went to my upper arms, steadying me.

"Granger?"

At the sound of the familiar drawl, I quickly blinked away the tears, looking up into a pair of piercing grey eyes.

"Malfoy," I breathed, feeling suddenly foolish. I hadn't seen him since the night I ran out on him in the library after being deeply unnerved by our 'moment'. "I just- I just-"

"What was all that shouting about?" He asked, a look of genuine concern flitting across his face as his eyes carefully searched mine. "Are you okay?"

"No," I shook my head. "I just slapped Ron."

Despite his hardened expression, a small smile twitched at his lips, amusement dancing in his tired eyes. "No doubt he deserved it."

I glanced over his shoulder, my eyes lingering curiously on the door behind him. "Um- what were doing in the ladies?" I asked.

Now it was his turn to look uneasy, his eyes swivelling nervously side to side, caught in a foolish act.

"Uh... nothing." He said hastily, the colour all but draining from his face. "Thought it was the men's. My mistake."

"Oh," I said, feeling rather flustered. Draco's hands were still on my arms and I wasn't sure whether he had even noticed. "Uh- if you don't mind...?"

He looked at me as though confused by my words. So, I helpfully beckoned towards the door and added, "I need to go."

As though realising his embarrassment, he dropped his hands, his face sporting a pink tinge as he hastily stepped aside, mumbled an apology and quickly fled away back into the crowded pub.

I watched with curiosity as the white-blond haired Slytherin slipped towards the exit, clutching his overcoat tightly around him.

All thoughts of my argument with Ron had quickly vanished as I went over the strange exchange. Draco Malfoy certainly hadn't seemed himself, and just what was he doing skulking around in the ladies toilets?

I was still thinking about it as I later walked back to Hogwarts with Ron and Harry (both of whom had conveniently decided to act as though the argument never happened upon my return from the ladies), and it was then that we witnessed Katie Bell getting tossed into the sky as her screams pierced the air all around.

That was some random shit.

*****