Millicent took a sip of the potion like she was taking tea and looked at Greg shyly, then back at the vial. 'It - it's really rather stupid, Draco… I didn't mean to scare you…'

Draco put a hand up to stop her. 'None of that. It's not stupid. It will never be stupid with me. With us.' He looked around at the others. Blaise mouthed something like "Melodramatic poof" at him. Draco ignored him. 'We're nothing if not friends here, Millicent.'

Millicent's bottom lip quivered. She slowly reached over and picked up her wand. 'Accio shoes,' she said. After a moment a pair of very odd looking pink shoes with long ribbons dumped themselves in her lap. 'M – My mother sent me these.'

Pansy covered her mouth with one hand. Draco frowned up from her to Millicent. 'Er… sorry, what are those?'

'I say you burn them and send her the charred ribbons,' Pansy hissed.

Everyone looked up at her in surprise except for Millicent, who laughed weakly. 'Perhaps I should have… but she'd only buy another pair. These are my old toe shoes. I used to dance – ballet, when I was very young.' Her eyes began to gleam again.

'Potion,' Draco said hurriedly.

Another sip. 'When I was very little, my mother wanted me to be a ballerina. I took tons of lessons, went to all sorts of recitals… but I broke my leg and ankle flying. She was very upset with me.'

'Why?'

'She couldn't dance anymore,' Blaise explained. 'Dancing en pointe puts immense stress on the ballerina's body, especially legs, ankles, and feet. Even a well-healed break…' He faltered and turned furiously red as a small snort of laughter escaped Draco. 'You'll do well not to laugh!' he snapped and moved onto Vince's other side to pout.

Luckily, Vince caught Draco's eye and grinned, so it wasn't all him.

'He's right, absolutely.' Millicent nodded. 'I was really depressed. Nothing I could do would make her happy after that. I thought she didn't love me anymore.' Pansy muttered something savagely under her breath and her friend smiled a little. 'Ballet was my only exercise – of course it was plenty while I was practising – so that was when I began getting fa–'

At the same time, Draco, Blaise, Vince, and Pansy coughed or cleared their throats loudly.

'Er… gaining weight.'

'Better.' Vince nodded. Pansy beamed.

'She was always worried about it, but when I turned ten… she was so mean about it, you know… and these shoes, she made sure they stayed on my wall. Like a reminder of how I failed…' Millicent sniffled. 'Before I left for first year here, I hid them really, really well.'

'Bloody good spot, if it's taken her more than five years to find them.'

'Yes, well. Thanks. I was hoping she'd never find them. I guess that was too much to ask.'

'I'd be proud if I managed to hide something from someone that long. Did you use magic at all?'

'Well, no, I wasn't allowed…'

'Even more impressive.'

Pansy gave Draco a pinch and an indignant look.

'I guess so. She wasn't happy about it. She never said anything straight out – she never does, she always makes it the little things, the off-hand comments… she was probably looking for them every spare moment… but you know, about, about the owls…'

'Potion,' Blaise reminded helpfully.

'She's been pestering me to write down everything I eat every day and send it to her so she could critique it or something –' Millicent's voice was rising in both speed and volume.

'Millie, love –' Pansy began.

'And the dress robes she sent were two sizes too small on purpose so I never got to go to the Yule Ball, and she's tried to send me exercise pamphlets like I don't go swimming in the lake every day, and now –'

'Millicent, please,' Vince tried to interrupt.

But Millicent was reaching Granger-speed now. '- she's sent the bloody fucking shoes!' she half-sobbed, half-screamed. 'I shouldn't just burn these, I should go home and burn her! I wish she would die! I hate her!'

To be quite honest, half of the reason Draco hadn't spoken up was that he was scared out of his wits by the outburst. After the moment of silence following it so he was certain she'd finished and so he could consider his next move, he finally said, 'Good.'

Everyone stared at him.

So he continued. 'You should hate her. There's nothing wrong with hating her. I would, too. But before I get too far along that line, I'd really like to have a quick word on this.' He poked the bloody water, causing tiny ripples. 'That and it's suddenly occurred to me that we're all sitting on the cold floor in the girls' bath. Perhaps we could move somewhere more comfortable?'

I sound like Father, he thought very quietly and a surge of both pride and sadness made him shiver.

Millicent swallowed visibly. 'I – you – promise you won't be angry with me?'

'Don't be silly, you could snap me like a twig.'

Blaise let out a cough that could have easily been a badly-concealed laugh. Draco made a mental note to turn all of Blaise's school robes hot pink later.

'But you could tell Professor Snape, and he'll write to my father, and oh he'll be so disappointed in me…'

Draco considered that. 'I can't promise I won't tell Professor Snape. He's our Head of House. He needs to know if something's wrong. And if he decides to write your parents, I can't help that, I can only give him what I think as a prefect. But I really think you want to talk about this. Don't you?'

Millicent opened and closed her mouth several times, blinking rapidly and looking from Draco to the floor and back again. Her gaze caught somewhere about him. 'Pansy,' she said pleadingly.

Pansy sank to the floor and set her book in her lap to touch Millicent's hand. 'It's all right, Millie… it's just us, you know. How could any of us think less of you for it?'

Draco made another mental note to do something very nice for (or to) Pansy later as well. It seemed he was going to have a very busy evening.

Slowly Millicent turned her arm over. There were cuts in her pale skin, mostly closed over with dried blood, but some still seeping. They were not deep; however, he got the distinct impression this was not the first time it happened. It was also obviously not a suicide attempt, which would probably be Professor Snape's first question when Draco told him – assuming he didn't already know, which would be Draco's first question upon entering the office and inquiring about the Potions Master's health.

Unfortunately, after this discussion, said Potions Master would most likely ask about how Draco was dealing with Lucius' unavailability. Bugger.

Draco glanced up at Millicent to see her expression. Her eyes were a bit misty again. He pulled his wand out of his robe pocket and muttered, 'Medicor,' poking at her arm. 'Are there more? Come on, I'll fix you up and we can get off the floor. You'll feel better when you're not freezing.'

The cuts on her left arm were deeper and bleeding more. He cast the spell again and looked over his work to see about scarring. He'd done an all right job, but it certainly wasn't his best work. Madam Pomfrey would have made sure that even if Millicent decided to go to some island beach and get a nice tan, nobody would see thin white lines. He needed to practise more, fine-tune it; make it so there was no evidence at all. If any of the seventh-year prefects saw anything, they would immediately take her to the Hospital Wing and all of Hogwarts would know about it by breakfast next morning.

'That's done, then.' Blaise gently grasped Millicent's wrist and propped the hand holding the potion up toward her lips. 'Come on, drink up, sipping at it like that isn't going to do much – take it like a shot of Firewhiskey.'

'How the hell would you know?' Millicent asked amusedly.

'We've tried to sneak it in, but Professor Sinistra catches us every time,' Vince added. 'We think she's got a… a nose for it?'

'Oooh, that was good, Vince.' Pansy gave him a smile she usually only reserved for Draco, who narrowed his eyes. Vince sidled away to Blaise's other side. 'And that's because she's rather more than a social drinker, if you take my meaning.'

'Really?'

'Didn't she and your father have a thing?' Blaise asked.

Draco gave him a very cool look. 'My father is madly in love with my mother, and you'd be wise to shut your mouth about it now.'

'Hey, hey, let's not do this, weren't we going to find somewhere warmer to talk about Millie's mum?' Pansy intervened quickly. 'Come on, up you get.' She stood up and held her hand out.

Millicent took it and stood up. She looked at Blaise and drank the rest of the Calming Draught in one gulp without breaking her gaze.

Blaise raised an eyebrow and gave her a half-smile. 'Glad you appreciate my work, dear.'

'Someone has to,' Millicent replied. 'Where are we going to move to?' She looked at Draco.

Draco got up, shrugged, and spread his hands. 'Wherever you're comfortable. I don't suggest the common room, though. We might attract attention.'

'Pesky seventh-years, think they own the place.' Pansy tossed her hair.

'If that's the case, shouldn't we do it, then?' Vince asked, also rising.

It was Draco's turn to smile. With more successful sentences, Vince would try more complex ones until he stumbled. Then, unfortunately, he would go quiet again. 'You know, Vince, I think you might be right there. Millicent, your thoughts?'

A little smile twitched on Millicent's lips. 'It's very tempting.'

'The best way to get rid of temptation is to give in to it,' Greg said suddenly. 'Oscar Wilde.'

Everyone looked at him. Without another word, Greg got up and led the way into the common room.

---

Author's Notes: I think I rather like Greg speaking only in quotes, but I'm not sure if I'll keep it - that might end up being the only thing he says for several chapters. The line about Lucius and Professor Sinistra is a tribute to something that happened long ago in a galaxy quite far, far away. I suppose some things don't change.
If medicor isn't the right word or the right tense, I would LOVE it if someone told me. Schnoogles to whoever does.