Disclaimer: Again, we don' t own anything. I do, however, own a certain Polish hotdog. That is all.

She turned back to me, dumbfounded, and said, "But...you - didn't you say he-?"

I sighed, feeling quite the moron, and replied, "He didn't. Honestly." I raised three fingers. "Girl Scout's Honor. Cross my heart, and hope to die..." I frowned, then added, "Well, not really."

The confusion on her face slowly morphed into murderous fury. Brace yourselves, men, I thought weakly to myself. Sigh. That's me. Always with a sarcastic remark lodged somewhere in that confoundedly brilliant head of mine, even when I'm about to be devoured by vicious British schoolteachers.

A deadly silence followed my words, swelling and intensifying as every second slowly ticked by. The entire class held its breath with dreadful anticipation. Then, when I thought the room might explode with the building tension, McGonagall's hard words sliced through the dangerous atmosphere.

"I will not tolerate such impertinence from the likes of you, Miss Karen, protection of the Ministry or no," she said, pale eyes snapping. Her voice was clipped and sharp with restrained anger. "Six weeks detention. I shall see you at seven in my office to explain the details of your punishment." She added frostily, "Let it be known that this sort of tomfoolery will not be tolerated."

Jodie glanced at me pityingly. She had yet to be caught and fined for her mischief. Bah. Some sort of protection this was. Note to self: have a little talk with the Minister of Magic about the terms of his so-called "protection" - and hey, I wouldn't be surprised if a little Reason was tossed in for good measure, but that was expected.

But for now, I knew my match when I saw it. Seeing no mercy in her flint hard gaze, I lowered my eyes in acceptance of the punishment I'd been dealt, my mouth set in a grim, defiant line. Stupid Matthew. Stupid professor. Stupid pitying Jodie. And most infuriatingly, stupid blasted overconfident me. I bet Matthew was somewhere back there smirking his fat head off. And to think I'd thought him cute.

Through my lowered eyelashes I saw McGonagall turn back to her desk, when a chair scraped as it was pushed back.

Then a voice said, to my utter amazement, "Professor McGonagall, I really must protest to the punishment of Miss Karen."

I looked up, startled. Matthew stood a few rows in front of me, facing forward with the same stanch resolve I'd seen when I'd first met him – (when he'd decided to knock me out.) He continued, green eyes grim, "She really never meant any harm."

What in the name of Jodie's phobia was he doing now?

"In fact," he plowed on, despite McGonagall's impassive face, "she had my prior permission to accuse me so upon my entrance."

He spoke with the calm assurance of someone who knew full well what he was talking about. Being the object of his defense, was it just me, or was it weird that I had no idea what the heck he was talking about? That was gibberish coming out of his mouth, not English! Jodie looked at me in bewilderment. I raised my hands the slightest bit in a helpless gesture of "who knows?", equally confused.

"You see, we were...experimenting, to see the reactions of the recipients of such news for further study - although we never expected anything quite so serious-"

"You go too far," McGonagall snapped, her voice menacingly low with cold fury. "An experiment, was it? If that was the case, then I will happily see the both of you in my office tonight." Her hard gaze fixed on his, she asked in a scary voice that suggested that there really was no choice whatsoever, "Have I made myself clear, Mr. Isolde?"

I expected him talk back or complain, or at least protest in some way, but Matt merely nodded.

"Now, may I please go back to teaching my class, or must you challenge me in that perspective as well?"

He held her gaze for a moment, then turned his back to her and walked away. The gazes of every single student in the class were trained on him as he made his way down the aisles of tables, our hearts thudding in time with each step he took. He stopped abruptly in front of the row of desks where I sat, and calmly took the seat next to me. His eyes flicked back to the front of the classroom to a fuming McGonagall and gestured towards the board, "Please."

As the professor started her lecture on the animation of inanimate objects after satisfying herself with one last glare in our direction, I relaxed and propped up my chin on my hands, my elbows resting on the table, and said under my breath to my defender (and now fellow inmate) while never taking my eyes off the board, "Well. That was gallant, I suppose. But mostly stupid."

He grinned recklessly back at me, not bothering to cover his actions, "Well then that makes two of us."

I raised an Eyebrow at him.

"Oh," he said ambiguously. "I meant the stupid part, of course."

I did what any self-respectable teenage girl would have done in my place and whacked him on the arm, hearing a very satisfying 'smack'.

Unfortunately, so did Professor McGonagall. Her sharp eyes were immediately focused on us once again. "Do you wish to spend more quality time with me, Miss Karen?" she asked with cold precision.

Deciding six weeks was more than enough time to get to know her – in fact, it might have been a bit too generous - , I cringed and said meekly, "No, professor."

Her wary eyes studied my face intently for a brief moment before she resumed talking to the class.

Free of her piercing gaze, I sighed at the dismal path the present day had taken, and proceeded to doodle random designs in my notebook to alleviate my current state of gloom. It helped, as it always did. My favorite part was drawing two circles with little heads and arms and legs sticking out, labeling them 'Ron' and 'McDonald's Hair', and prodding them with my pencil.

Matt eyed me for a while before asking if I realized that I was grinning idiotically to myself while poking my paper. Jodie assured him that this was considered perfectly normal behavior for me. I ignored them both and continued to gleefully poke at my drawings.

I was woken from my poking-induced stupor of delight by McGonagall's announcement of "Understood? Now that I've covered the basics, let us begin!" I had managed to catch a few words of Professor McGonagall's speech, but they were a serious few.

"Uh. Jodie?" I poked her with my pencil.

"What now," she grumbled.

"Ah…you were listening to that whole speech McGonagall was giving right?"

Jodie rolled her eyes and said, "Obviously you weren't." She muttered under her breath, "As usual."

I gave her my most winning smile. "Just checking."

"I shall now proceed to pass out your inanimate objects," McGonagall's voice carried clearly across the room. "Everyone please remain seated until every student has received their item, and then you may get up and form groups to discuss your objects."

With a wave her wand, McGonagall produced a basket out of thin air, filled with seemingly nondescript items you might find left to collect dust on a shelf in a garage. She began to hand out objects to the class, starting with me and Matt. She also managed to give us a warning no-nonsense look in the half of a second it took her to reach into the basket and give us each an object.

I watched as the Professor proceeded down the tables, paying attention to what objects others were getting and taking note of any interesting and/or promising objects others were getting.

Lavender – a mummified lizard, white cloth wrappings and all. Ha. Dean – a soccer trophy. Hermione – a tiny statue of a winged horse. Jodie – a handkerchief with a crane embroidered on it in turquoise silk. Harry – a peculiar quill that shimmered in the sunlight. Ron – a raisin.

"Professor, are you sure there isn't some mistake…?" asked Ron, eyeing his raisin doubtfully. "Is the animation of a raisin even possible?"

"Why so skeptical, Mr. Weasley?" was her dry reply. "Surely I wouldn't give you something that wasn't?"

"Would she?" Matt leaned over to ask me softly.

Apparently not soft enough, as McGonagall turned her head slightly in our direction and gave us a small, discreet smile. I swear, if the lady winked at all, she would have. Matt and I couldn't help but grin back.

And so the first tenuous tendrils of friendship (or enemy-ship, however you saw it) grew between Benjamin Matthew Aaron Isolde and me. I didn't have to say I was grateful, and he certainly didn't have to point out he'd somewhat saved my grateful butt by sticking up for me. There was just a mutual – albeit grudging (on my part at least) – and silent sense of both acceptance and companionship.

When McGonagall finally worked her way to the front of the classroom, she announced in her clear voice, "All right. Everyone should have an object in front of them. Before we even attempt at animating anything, I want all of you to write twelve inches on the object in front of you. You must study it; even the most insignificant details you must memorize - every line, curve, and decoration. In order to animate it, to give it life, one must first imagine it alive. Only if you know it well and by heart will its true character come to you, and only then will you be able to bring it to life. You have thirty minutes to finish your manuscripts. We will read our essays aloud to the class after everyone has completed the assignment in order to fully ingrain the object into our minds. You may ask your peers for help if you'd like. You may begin."

The stone floor protested loudly as chairs were scraped across its surface. There was a buzz in the air, a sudden frenzy of people milling about, as people rushed to find their friends. The hum gradually abated as people started to settle down and discuss (The topic of which was questionable. I, for one, heard Lavender discussing Matt's biceps and hard abs, which she had apparently discovered when she had been feeling him up/hugging him.), gradually building up into a flow of chatter that filled the room, one voice overlapping the next. I stayed in my seat, too tired and a little too lazy to get up, waiting for Hermione and co. to come to me and Jodie instead.

A pale hand darted lithely into my line of view to pick up with long, slender fingers the paper that lay on the wooden table in front of me. I turned my head in surprise to see Draco Malfoy hold up my object for a better look, the sunlight illuminating his golden hair and pale skin so that he almost seemed to glow slightly. I admit that the sight of him made my heart skip a beat (or two.)

His eyes flicked from my object to my own eyes before he lowered the slim piece of paper.

"A photo?" he asked with a teasing smile tugging on a corner of his mouth.

"Is there something wrong with my photo?" I asked, a trace of defiance slipping into my voice. I leaned towards him to take my picture from his admittedly beautiful hands, and caught a whiff of the faint smell of vanilla. Needless to say, it smelled good.

"No," he said, still smiling. "But I'd imagined you'd have gotten something more…creative. I've happened to notice that, well, fascinating events that could be described as trouble seem to happen around you more often than the average person. I wouldn't have been so surprised if, say, you had a peanut to match dear Ronald's raisin," he laughed.

This time I checked to make sure McGonagall's back was turned before I smacked Malfoy.

Malfoy rubbed his arm a bit ruefully, but seemed unable to keep the playful smile off his striking face. The fact that I still found him unreasonably good-looking even when I was annoyed only made me more annoyed.

I scowled and told him, "If all you're going to do is insult me, then I suggest that you buzz off."

He grinned and patted my head, saying, "I probably should go start my essay."

I continued to scowl.

"You really shouldn't make such ugly faces…It doesn't suit you," Malfoy said. "I'll see you later," he promised suggestively, winking.

"In your dreams, Barbie boy," I glowered back at him.

His expression never changed despite my reference to our latest mishap. "Oh, and about that…"

I froze as he suddenly leaned over until his face was inches from mine and whispered into my ear, "I'm impressed." I shivered as his cool breath tingled on my skin. He took a step back and raked my body from head to toe with long, slow, and all too suggestive look. "And still very, very attracted," he promised, his voice low and husky.

And then he was walking away, looking impossibly tall and hot among the other students swarming around chaotically. When I managed to tear my eyes off his receding figure to turn back to the table, I was surprised to find Matt still languishing in his seat next to me.

"You staying?"

When he just shrugged, I raised an Eyebrow and informed him, "I know of a number of girls who will be very disappointed to hear that."

The group of girls that had been inching towards us, all smiles, giggled on cue.

Matt turned with ease to his fan club and gave them a player's easy smile. More giggles erupted from the heavily make-uped (and much less heavily clothed) girls.

He saw me roll my eyes and regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before jerking his chin towards the direction Malfoy had left. He drawled, "Well that was interesting."

I bristled. "Was it?"

He smirked at me and said, "He'll hit on just about anything with two legs, won't he?"

Okay, and that's when I blew up. "The nerve of you," I sputtered with indignant anger, all feelings of comradeship evaporated. "I don't believe you have any right to be talking, mister." Matt recoiled a little from the intense venom I'd infused to my voice. "You and your - and your -" Incapable of continuing for the outrageousness of the extreme hypocrisy Matt was spouting, I gestured violently, enraged, to his horde of fan girls. They also recoiled a bit too. I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "So you just stay out of my business, because I'm not complaining about you and your man-whoring."

There was a silence after my words. Matt looked utterly shocked by my outburst - before bursting out in uproarious laughter. I looked at him with a raised Eyebrow before glancing at Jodie, who had finally finished inspecting her handkerchief, and conveying a "I TOLD you he was psycho." look. Ignoring the "Uh. No you didn't." look she shot back at me, I turned my attentions back to a still-laughing Matt.

"Seriously, dude." I prodded his prone figure, which was draped across his chair, one hand holding his stomach and the other covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking inconceivably hard. "Are you…okay?"

His tremors receding slowly, Matt sat up straighter in his chair, wiping the tears from his eyes. "So the bunny has some bite," he mused, his eyes glinting with amusement, a wicked smile on his face. "And what a bite indeed."

"Bunny?" I asked, enraged once more. "I am no bunny." I spat the word out.

"Yeah, dude," Jodie added. "Have you ever seen such a freaky tall bunny?" She jerked her thumb at me with disbelief.

"Excuse me?" I turned on my best friend. "Somebody's just jealous, okay," I stated matter-of-factly, rolling my eyes at her.

Karen's Note: It's been awhile guys. :) I just unearthed this document in a forgotten corner of my computer, and I thought it would have been a waste if I didn't post it, even if everyone has already forgotten about our story haha. Ir brings back such memories… Jodie and I are both going to be seniors next school year. Although in two different countries halfway across the world from each other, we're still just as close. And this fanfiction was started when we both were in..eighth grade, I think? It's been crazily fun. Thanks for reading this, LOTS OF LOVE, JODIE!