"Everyone knows that it was Granger who won the stupid game. Little miss perfect and her perfect boyfriend."

"And yet the Ravenclaw Patil was the one who won. Her and Blaise. Are you saying Blaise isn't clever enough to win some stupid scavenger hunt, Daphne?"

"Oh, do be quiet, Millicent, you've still got blood on your hands for punching out Weasley. She should have at least come second."

"Longbottom and Susan Bones."

"Third!"

"Theo and Runcorn."

"It doesn't make any sense! She didn't take the win. She gave it to a bunch of Slytherins and to Longbottom, of all people."

"You do realise Draco could've done that, don't you? Not necessarily her."

Daphne tucked her hair behind her ear, scoffing quietly. "You really think he's actually in control of Granger? The Malfoy family isn't on top any more, Millicent."

Meanwhile, Hermione was completely ignoring their inane gossip from three desks in front of them. "You had detention with Harry and Neville?" she asked. Draco shrugged.

"Yeah, so what?"

Theo was eavesdropping as he worked across the aisle with Blaise, a half-finished drowsiness draught simmering in their cauldron. "How is it possible that none of us heard about this?"

"You didn't ask and it was none of your business. I know none of you understand the concept, but it's perfectly believable, trust me."

"Reasonable," Hermione corrected him as she measured out the crushed lavender.

"What?"

"It's perfectly reasonable, not perfectly believable. That makes it sound as though you're lying to them."

"Right, that makes sense. It's perfectly reasonable, Theo, trust me."

"Sure. You'll have to forgive me for not taking you at your word on that. Now how did you get detention?"

He sighed. "I caught Potter breaking curfew, him and Weasley, and I followed them both. Hard to see them in the dark, but I managed without making an idiot of myself and tripping down the stairs. Or something like that. Then I heard them say they'd be out again three nights later, so I followed them. I told Goyle I was going to be late back to the common room and tell Blaise- we were meant to be working on that essay on the 1726 Goblin Rebellion in Italy. I think Neville overheard, because he followed me, and we both got caught by McGonagall. She got Potter and the Weasley, too- though only because she waited outside of Gryffindor Tower, they came back a different way. Something about a dragon and Hagrid and the man was moaning and crying about someone called Norbert."

"Norbert?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't ask. I was in a bad mood because I was told that I had to go with Potter because Weasley refused to go with me and apparently I'm likely to eat Neville if left alone with him, at least according to the git. Anyway, Potter just kept talking- as much as Hermione does when she's studying."

"I don't talk that much!"

"You really do."

"And you keep talking over him. Would you be quiet for a few minutes and let him finish up?"

Hermione sneered at Blaise but did fall quiet, turning her focus to the rhythmic stirring of their cauldron as Draco finished his story.

"So anyway, Potter was talking- about the weather or Weasley or Hermione answering questions or the reasons that Slytherins are awful people- he was talking the entire time, until we got to this clearing in the Forest. Where we found the dead unicorn. And this- bloody hell- this thing was leaning over the unicorn, all black against all white and there was silver everywhere, the unicorns blood I guess. The thing was drinking its blood, and I didn't see anything after that because I, um, decided that it would be better if I, er, found Hagrid and let him know that we had found the unicorn."

"So that was when you screamed?"

"It was a yelp!"

Hermione chuckled as a shadow was cast over her desk. Still smiling, she looked up. "Is there a problem, Professor? We're almost finished."

Snape stared at her and Draco, his dark gaze frighteningly fixed on them. Hermione didn't let her own gaze waver, watching him closely. "No problem, Miss Granger. Just keep your talking to yourself, you are interrupting my class."

She watched as the eerie Professor left, her smile faltering. "He's so creepy," she murmured.

"He's fine," Draco shrugged. But Hermione could not shake the feeling that she was missing something.

Professor Snape had, after all, been eavesdropping on the tale of the unicorn and the blood sucking monster in the forest.

✦

Two weeks later, Draco was trying to stay quiet- he really was- but it was so tempting. Plus, the sound of pages turning was noise, wasn't it, and yet he was allowed to do that. Good thing, too, since they were sitting in a library.

Hermione had her head in her hands, slouched over one of the two dozen books she'd decided she had to study for their upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. Only she wasn't reading them.

Neville had been shooting her furtive glances over and over again, until she finally lost patience with him. "Either keep your eyes to yourself or go far, far away, Neville!"

Much to the surprise of Draco, Neville got straight to his feet. He gathered the books he'd grabbed, his notes and his pen, and he stared right at her. "We're your friends. We can help."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Hermione. Don't try to pretend you are."

And this was why Draco was staying very, very quiet: he had no interest in getting thrown out, too, sent into exile. Neville was the most recent addition: Blaise and Theo had already been cast out. Thus far, she hadn't admitted that she was in a bad mood. It was just a matter of time.

I hope.

"I'm not in a bad mood," Hermione insisted, even though he hadn't said anything. "I just have a headache."

"Persistent headache," he muttered.

She shot him a glare. "What was that?"

"You should see Madam Pomfrey."

"No, I shouldn't. It's not that kind of headache."

"There are different kinds? Really?"

"You don't sound too happy about that."

"Forgive me for honestly thinking I shouldn't. What kind of headache is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Hermione."

She sighed. "I have a really strong feeling that something bad is about to happen. I'm not used to it?"

"Feeling? Ow! You didn't have to kick me."

Her expression said, rather clearly, that yes, she did. It softened into a curious stare as she looked at something over Draco's shoulder, and after a moment, he turned to see what had drawn her focus. Harry Potter, of all people, was standing right behind him, frowning slightly. "Are you two okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said, after Draco winced. He was starting to wish people would stop asking her that.

"Lost the Weasel again, Potter?"

"Sort of. I need to talk to both of you."

"Be careful how you go about that. Hermione's in a bad mood."

"I am not -"

"Hermione's studying, is that better? Yes. Okay. What do you want, Potter?"

"I want to talk to the two of you about the Philosopher's Stone."