Chapter Eighteen: Keep it Professional

The moist musk of the forest swirled in an unnatural dance with the dense fog that surrounded Ella. Her skin tingled with a fear that course through her, pulsating like currents of lightning. She was scared, terrified as she stared into the darkness that crawled silently towards her like death. Her muscles tensed as she saw luminous eyes flash behind the trees, the swirl of midnight fog forming eerie skulls against the black backdrop the forest provided. A voice outside of herself tried to ease the nerves, playing the soothing mantra in her mind that her eyes were playing tricks on her; but no, it wasn't tricks. There was something out there. She shifted her weight, her knees smeared with mud and her hands saturated with the wetness of the soil; sinking deep into the earth the more pressure she placed on them. Ella flexed her fingers, gripping the ground for some semblance of stability, but instead of the cold earth, she felt the velvety smoothness of skin beneath them. The coppery scent made her stomach twist with nausea before her vision caught up with her, and her eyes grew wide at the warm, slick blood dripping from her hands. She swallowed a scream, a blurred figure with black hair lying lifeless in front of her, as strong hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards the darkness behind her…

Ella jerked awake, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She heard a sharp snap and jumped, her eyes trailing across the silken emerald sheet, through the gap in the curtains, and across the school trunks to the blue hue of the fire across the dormitory. Kicking her feet free from the twisted bedspread, she walked across the chilled stone to sit beside the blue flames, closing her eyes at the relief of the cold against the sweat soaked nightdress that clung to her skin. She pushed a frustrated hand through blonde locks, letting her forehead fall with a thump against her knee. For the past week she'd been having reoccurring dreams about what had happened in the forest. Each time they occurred however, her subconscious slowly morphed the memories from dream to nightmare, for reasons she couldn't understand. She felt beyond childish: she was fifteen years old and having nightmares of the dark? Even in the solitude of the night Ella blushed in embarrassment.

It wasn't like being in the Forbidden Forest had been a positive experience, but it hadn't exactly been traumatic either. She could grudgingly admit (though only to herself) that when she'd fallen down that cliff she had a moment of weakness and felt anxious, maybe even scared, though she'd been in too much shock at the time to fully focus on it. She could even admit that running back to the castle, alone, had not been fun, and she'd jumped at nearly every noise she heard. But she was fine. She made it back safely. She'd received a hot meal, a sleeping draught, and after ten hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, she had been allowed to leave. Because of their tense relationship as of late, Ella had been surprised to see Draco (and even more surprised at an anxious Blaise) waiting outside the doors. Seeing her brother had been a relief, a reality check that she was actually back within the safety of the walls. She was even more pleased that despite his attempt at keeping his composure, his concern for her had seeped through the cracks.

Ella explained most of the events that transpired in the Forest to Draco and Blaise later that day, and unfortunately Pansy, who'd spread the story around the four Houses in an astonishingly small amount of time. She explained what their detention had consisted of: the half-giant leaving them unattended, the centaurs, and getting hopelessly lost in a ravine. The pair were infinitely angry at the treatment from the centaurs, and that the blind tolerance Dumbledore adopted for all creatures (no matter how hostile or worthless) had led to her being endangered.

The parts she hadn't been forthcoming about were nearly all the details about Potter. She told herself it was because she wanted to avoid another heated debate with her brother. And it was true, Draco wouldn't understand why she'd helped him, even if she told him that Potter had taken the hit for her. Even if she explained the blatant reality that coming back alone without Potter (Dumbledore no doubt finding the Gryffindor dead a few days later) wouldn't bode well for her, he'd still ask why she hadn't just left him and gotten herself out. He wouldn't understand that she couldn't just… leave him. But truthfully, she didn't want to think about Potter because too many other unwanted thoughts crept up when she went there.

She didn't want to think about the debt she now felt she owed him. At the mention of his name, she didn't like the lurch in her stomach as her mind flashed to the thick pool of blood at his injury. She heard the jokes from others outside of her own house: how she was a sheltered Malfoy princess, not having been exposed to any of the realities commonly found outside a highborn Pureblood family. But no one could be prepared for being kidnapped by crazed centaurs, many of whom openly debated about whether you should be killed or not. And no one could be prepared to see an arrow sticking out of someone's body, let alone someone they were familiar with (no matter how much they disliked them). Then having to tend to it herself. The blood that had flowed out of Potter, both in her dreams and in reality, constantly lingered in the back of her mind and she shivered, unable to control herself.

But most of all, she didn't want to think about the private thoughts Potter unknowingly revealed to her in his moment of weakness; his voice so uncharacteristically vulnerable compared to his usual pompous tone. A type of vulnerable not caused by the physical pain of his injury, but a deep, emotional one. Something… raw that at his age no one should be remotely familiar with. Ella was even more disturbed when she couldn't understand why the words affected her so much.

A loud snore came from one of the other beds, snapping her out of her thoughts, for which she was grateful. Resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't be able to sleep, she threw on her robes and made her way to the common room to study. Ella didn't see another soul for a few hours, the first risers (disheveled and barely awake) were students with half buttoned shirts and skewed ties, who scribbled hastily at last minute assignments. Pansy was among them, hair perfectly pinned back, and Ella was infinitely grateful that the incessant sixth year did not notice her. In the middle of her Transfiguration homework Blaise finally emerged, smoothing down the front of his tie as he spotted her, pulling up a chair.

"You're up early."

"Way to state the obvious," Ella said with a roll of her eyes.

"And pleasant as always," he countered, his voice perfectly devoid of emotion. "How long have you been down here?"

She shrugged, her blonde hair slipping loose from behind her ear as she continued writing.

"Not sure, a couple of hours."

"Did you not sleep well again last night?"

Ella's quill hovered over the parchment as she frowned at him.

"Again? What do you mean?" She hadn't told anyone about the nightmares she'd been having.

Blaise shrugged indifferently, "Well I just know you haven't been sleeping well the past few nights."

"How would you know that?" Ella said, attempting to control the embarrassment that wanted to rise. She didn't think the lack of sleep had affected her demeanor that much.

Blaise busied himself with rolling back the end of his sleeves.

"You just seem a bit more distracted than usual. You tend to zone out while doing your homework. Picking at your food in the Great Hall. Tired. Not as talkative. You hardly went after your brother when you found out about half the teams 'Quidditch scandal' against the Gryffindors-"

"Merlin Blaise did you have to bring that up?" she groaned, her blood pressure immediately spiked at the mention of her brother's brilliant plan to beat the Gryffindor team. "That was nearly the biggest disappointment of my life. I'd waited years to play on the team. I finally get the chance and in my first match, I thought I'd done so well-"

"You did do well. You flew better than anyone out there-"

"-just to find out that a large part of that was due to the fact half those dolts were cheating? I mean, the Gryffindors aren't spectacular at the game, but they usually try to give us a run for our money. I thought they all were having some sort of collective mental breakdown because of just how badly they were playing. How satisfying is a win when you know the other team was playing with a talent equivalent to having their hands tied behind their back? All because they were dead tired trying to counter the effects of those damn bracelets." She shook her head bitterly, "I would have never expected my brother to stoop so low."

Blaise let out a short sigh, an awkward movement considering his rigid posture. "It was a pretty low move. I can understand the occasional underhandedness, it's a part of the sport, even professionally. But to automatically give yourself a win like that? What's the point? There's no satisfaction or pride in that unfair of a cheat. But then again," Blaise said with a tilt of his head and a helpless one armed shrug. "It is your brother. His need to take Potter and Weasley down a peg is at nearly obsessive levels."

"My thoughts exactly," Ella said, her anger abated somewhat to have someone agree with her. "I just thought he respected the game more than that. Quidditch is..." Her eyes lit up as she tried to find the right words. "There's nothing like the rush you get when flying. When you know you just made an unbelievable shot, or dodged a Bludger with a spectacular move. I felt almost… euphoric after that match, and because of my brother, it gets taken away. If I get beaten, it just makes me want to work harder. To beat them next time. It's all a part of the competitiveness of the game, you know?"

With a blank face he gave a long paused, and Ella thought he was trying hard to muster up enough enthusiasm as to not be rude.

"Never having actually played the game, because I prefer the comforting stability of the ground over neck breaking speeds in the air, I can't one hundred percent say I do. Though I can understand the general sentiment. But don't stop on my account, it's just nice to finally hear you talking like yourself again."

Ella cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips together.

"Talking like myself? Who've I been talking like for the past week then?"

"You know what I mean."

'Not really', Ella thought but kept the comment to herself. She realized she may have been acting a bit more reserved after what had happened, but didn't think she'd been as extreme as he was describing.

"I haven't been that bad, have I?"

"You haven't been 'bad' at all, I just noticed some differences. You haven't unleashed as much of that usual sarcastic bite in your conversations that's customary of the Malfoy's. Though I'm glad to see it's coming back," he said sarcastically, his stoic face cracking slightly from the pull of a smile at his lips, making him look slightly strange.

Ella shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, once again surprised at this new insightful focus Blaise had on her. He'd never been that observant of her behavior. Over the past year and a half they had formed a friendship of sorts, however strange it was; no doubt because of their mutual reclusive tendencies. They appreciated one another's intelligence, the school filled with too many idiots for someone with common sense to go unnoticed. They studied together, conversed well, and even joked at times. But over the past few weeks, the uncharacteristic looks and compliments didn't line up with their usual collaboration. She didn't understand this different Blaise. And different was the only word she could use to describe it. If anyone hadn't been acting like themselves, Ella would say it was him. If it were anyone else, she'd almost say that he was acting as if he-

Like a slap to the face, a startling realization came to her mind as to why it may have changed. She almost let out a laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Ella couldn't remember a time that Blaise had ever been interested in someone. She'd never even heard him participate in the typical male behavior of every other boy at Hogwarts, commenting of the appearance of the older girls in school. Though the idea of Blaise fancying her, of all people, was ridiculously farfetched, it made her stomach twist with nerves.

Realizing she had been quiet for an odd amount of time, she quickly cleared her throat.

"Didn't realize I was so transparent," she said for lack of anything better to say.

He shook his head, "You aren't. I just... know you pretty well."

Ella was all too aware that his eyes hadn't left her, though he wasn't intensely staring. She fiddled with the quill on the table, jotting down a few more sentences as she tried to act as nonchalant as she could.

"I guess so."

A silence hung over the table. Ella did her best to ignore the awkwardness she adamantly told herself was in her head, while Blaise flipped open a textbook of his own. Like he was sent from the Heavens, Draco suddenly appeared at her side.

"Studying already? It's too early for that."

"Better to be productive than sit and stare at the fire until classes start."

"You could always sleep." Draco suggested in an obvious tone, propping his feet up on an empty chair.

"Just haven't been that tired lately."

"Well you should make sure you get plenty of rest for our rematch coming up. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of winning. Though if you play at the same level as you did in the last match, I don't think we have to worry about your performance too much."

Though a compliment from Draco was so rare it was usually enough to lighten Ella's mood, she glared at her brother.

"Obviously, otherwise I think cheating was a tad unnecessary. And I wouldn't need to be well rested if you had just let us play fairly to begin with."

To her chagrin, Draco had the nerve to smirk as he leaned his head over the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. "It was worth a shot. The look on Potter's face-"

"What do you think his face looked like when he found out you had to cheat to win? Bet he felt pretty good about that. The one time he missed the Snitch and he didn't even really lose."

Draco's jaw clenched for a moment, and it was all the satisfaction Ella needed to know she had struck some sort of a nerve.

"He lost to Diggory one year."

Ella snorted. 'Nice comeback' she thought to herself, before carrying on. "Only because a bunch of Dementors were on the field attacking him."

Draco dropped his feet on the ground with a heavy thunk, crossing his arms over the table.

"What are you, a part of Potter's fan club? Something happen out in that Forest I should know about?"

Ella's stormy eyes darkened, that bite Blaise had been insinuating she'd been missing coming back. Unwillingly, her mind flashed to the arrow that grotesquely stuck out of Potter's abdomen. She repressed a shudder, pushing the thought away.

"I hardly need to be a part of his fan club to state the facts. You gave him more satisfaction letting him know that you had to cheat in order to beat him, than by simply losing and letting him win naturally."

"Whatever," Draco said, trying to distance himself from her logic. "It was a clever idea. Everyone thought so."

A hollow laugh emitted from her throat, "Who? That genius Urquhart who can't even figure out which end of the broom to sit on? Or Crabbe and Goyle? I mean its common knowledge that thought two are simply brilliant."

"Zambini thought it was a pretty clever trick. Didn't you?"

Ella raised an eyebrow at Blaise. Just moments before he was confirming her own thoughts on how idiotic Draco's idea had been. The boy across from her ignored her stare, addressing Draco specifically.

"It would have been cleverer had you not been caught. But the general idea behind it was cunning enough. At the very least you get points for getting past Hooch to begin with."

Satisfied, Draco faced her with a flourish of his hand.

"See?"

Ella let out a small scoff, shaking her head. She struggled to refrain herself from commenting, instead turning back to her textbook. It was the one thing she couldn't stand about Blaise, the amount of posing he would do. Depending on who he was addressing, he would switch his answer at the drop of a hat. She knew him well enough to know that he truly agreed with her take on the team's antics, but because Draco's heightened status within their House, he had to play the neutral card, not saying his true thoughts on the matter in case someone called him out or disagreed. What it boiled down to was the fact that he just didn't have much of a backbone. Blaise cared so much more about his image than what he believed in.

Her irritation bubbled quickly to the surface and she picked up her things.

"I'm heading down to breakfast. I've done enough work for the day and classes haven't even started yet."

She didn't look back to see if they had followed, but when she sat at the Slytherin table, they showed up a few moments later, Blaise sitting beside her. For his new perceptiveness he seemed to be displaying earlier, he was ignorant of her feelings right now.

They weren't eating for long before Dumbledore rose from the head table, today wearing deep azure robes, the material threaded throughout making the cloth shimmer like low waves in the ocean.

"What does he want now?" Blaise muttered under his breath, and despite her prior frustration with the teen, she silently agree with the hesitation. So far this year, his announcements had been anything but welcome. The aged wizard was silent for a number of moments, subjecting them all to his obnoxiously serene smile before the hall quieted enough for him to speak.

"It pleases me greatly to see all of you so energetic this early in the morning. I assure you I will not keep you from your breakfast and lively conversations for long if I could be granted only a few moments of your time."

"For the past few weeks, your professors and I have been exceptionally proud of all of you for the remarkable amount of cooperation, and positive interactions, you have demonstrated between your fellow classmates during these House meetings. The purpose of mixing the members of each House together were to give you all a chance to form bonds that you otherwise may not have ever been exposed to; an achievement I believe a number of you have accomplished. I believe the bonds that you have made will not only be beneficial to you throughout the rest of your time here at Hogwarts, but beyond the castle, and in the dark times that undoubtedly lie ahead."

"Though I strongly encourage all of you to maintain a solid friendship to those you were paired with, it is my duty to inform you that there will no longer be required House meetings."

Ella's mouth went slack, her eyes locking onto Draco's enormous grin for conformation. Like the blast of trumpets, voices bounded throughout the Hall, exclamations of various degrees shouted into the air. A number of students Ella spotted groaned in unison, growling in complaint to those who would listen, while many others had elated expressions that could rival Draco's. Ella's gaze fell briefly on Potter, whose face held the relief she felt, though she could see the slightest of frowns form as he concentrated almost thoughtfully on his plate. As if feeling her gaze, he met her eyes, and his vulnerable, broken voice played instantly in her mind. She quickly looked away.

"With that being said, I have one last announcement to make."

Like the snip of a taut cord, the chatter died almost instantly. Ella could spot the faintest of smiles on Dumbledore's face and her mouth went dry.

"Although news in the Daily Prophet as of late has been nearly exempt of Death Eater activity, it does not mean they are no longer a threat. It is only a matter of time before Voldemort gathers the strength and support he needs to wage a war against the Ministry, and those who support equality for all forms of life. Therefore, it is more important than ever to take preventive measures to combat these forces, and be prepared for the dangerous future that will directly affect many people in this Hall." He paused, Ella thought more for dramatic effect, taking time to survey the crowd for their reactions. For her part, she was unimpressed with the speech so far.

"To encourage preparation, as all of you are aware, we have resumed the defensive club that was formed by Harry Potter last year." Ella glanced at said teen, watching as he shifted rather uncomfortably at the attention. "Which is an excellent opportunity for anyone wanting to brush up on their Defense skills. But I believe even more preemptive measures are in order. I have therefore come up with another opportunity to achieve this highly important goal." His eyes held a twinkle brighter than the stars, and the grin that had been hiding beneath his beard became fully visible.

"Before the winter holiday commences, a dueling tournament will be taking place to test your abilities."

A murmured ripple spread throughout the tables, students perking up straight in there seat; Ella, Blaise, and Draco among them.

"The entire competition will take place throughout the month of November, extending into December, up until the holidays. The tournament will take place on the Quidditch pitch, an excellent place for enthusiastic observation, where teams of two will be matched against one another in friendly competition. Though participation and attendance are entirely optional, as incentive, extra credit opportunities will be given for exceptional spell work in Transfiguration, Charms, and of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The idea was intriguing enough, but extra credit opportunities weren't incredibly appealing to Ella; she was at the top of her class in ever subject as it was. She scanned the Hall, noticing only a handful of people seemed to be interested. She held back her laughter at the unenthusiastic response Dumbledore was receiving, and felt a small amount of pleasure that his plan at 'preparation' had backfired. The Headmaster was throwing them bones, when that much effort wasn't worth it unless there was some meat.

As if reading her thoughts, Dumbledore's speech continued, "But what is a few extra points in a handful of classes, when only a few hours of study could make up for the same amount?" His smile was blinding now, making Ella feel uneasy. "The top ten ranking competitors will win House points according to their rank: tenth place receiving twenty-five and first place one-hundred, each. And if that isn't incentive enough, the top three teams will be exempt from their Hogwarts end of year exams at the subject they show the most proficiency in, with first place exempt from two."

Ella and a fifth of the hall let out cries of indignation, while the rest of the hall buzzed with excitement.

"Now this is a brilliant idea." Draco exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Even Blaise had a glint of excitement in his eyes, "There are only a handful of people that would actually put up a good fight."

"How is this fair!?" Ella yelled at the injustice. "I would have killed to have this done last year! What incentives are there for students taking their OWLS and NEWTS? Everyone gets a chance to be exempt from an exam, and I get to play for House points?" She ran together a string of curses under her breath, scowling up at the Headmaster, and at the happy faces around the hall.

"Sorry Ella, that's really some bad luck there," Draco said, with a truly sympathetic tone, though his smile had not faded. "But why not still compete? It would be satisfying to at least have bragging rights. And what better cause to fight for than to help your brother? The two of us would be a good match."

Distracted from her anger, Ella's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"You'd want to be partnered with me? Why not someone in a higher year? They'd know more spells."

Draco waved his hand impatiently, "Maybe, but you know enough as it is. Anyway, you actually have some power behind your spells. I find that a lot more worthwhile than someone who can memorize hundreds of spell but be terrible at casting them. I mean that bat-bogey hex of yours is not something anyone should mess with. Plus two Malfoys together… we'd be damn near unbeatable."

Ella was at a loss as to what to say, oddly touched by the faith Draco had in her. Despite being close to her brother, he rarely dealt out compliments. She knew his competitive side well enough that he would not have asked her if he thought she wouldn't compliment his own talents well. Beside him, she saw Blaise look away with a flicker of disappointment. Had he wanted to be paired with her too?

"I-I'll consider it Draco. But that's a lot of effort to put into something I don't get much benefit from. It's my OWLS year."

"Yeah but practicing would no doubt help you perform better during the practical portion." he said trying to sway her.

Ella took a moment to consider it. It would be good practice, but she wasn't sure the pros could outweigh the cons. The amount of stress that she'd seen people in their fifth year have in the past was not something she was looking forward to. A handful of students each year had to take anxiety potions, and though she knew OWLS wouldn't get her that stressed, combining it with this tournament could have that effect on her. But no matter what logic Ella thought up, she couldn't quell the competitive part of her that rattled against the cage in her heart, wanting a shot to prove herself. She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a voice attempting to rise above the crowd.

"I have spoken to the Educational Office at the Ministry of Magic, and they have agreed to convert the score the professors' give to any competing students in their fifth and final years at Hogwarts, into a percentage that would count towards the practical portion of your OWLS or NEWTS. Although the amount is not enough to guarantee you a top grade, (even if you excel substantially in the tournament) depending on the spells you use, the extra points could be reasonably influential on the outcome of your final exam scores. If a fifth or seventh year comes in first place however, they will award them an 'Outstanding' on their most proficient subject and be exempt from both the theoretical and practical exams for that OWL or NEWT. A practical reward, considering you would have to beat out the best in this school to earn it."

Ella's mouth dropped open in disbelief but her heart leapt at the news, the spark of indignation she felt moments before igniting into a vibrant fire of excitement. Being given an automatic 'Outstanding' in one of the three subjects would be incredibly valuable; something Ella would fiercely fight for. To have a class she could nearly eliminate would work wonders for her OWLS year. She grinned at her brother, knowing that if they teamed up, they would win.

"I'm in!" Ella exclaimed, holding up her goblet to Draco's to toast their eventual success.

"That being said, there are two stipulations to the tournament I must address. One, is that the tournament will be closed to all students in their third year and below."

From her seat, Ella could almost feel the sigh of relief from a number of the younger years, with only a handful complaining.

"Those of you (in any year) not able to participate may still get extra credit points through short, but thoroughly researched essays on a spell or technique you witness during the tournament that you are impressed or intrigued-"

Ella, Draco, and Blaise turned him out, feeling comfortable enough to turn away since not many seemed to be paying much attention to the Headmaster at this point. He was simply addressing the younger years.

Her usually cool composure was all but gone; Ella couldn't contain her excitement. She wished classes were over so they could start practicing right now. Blue eyes blazing, she turned to Blaise with an enthusiasm she normally associated only with Quidditch.

"Who do you think you'll team up with Blaise?"

He gave a one armed shrug, picking a piece of lint off the sleeve of his robe.

"I was going to suggest that you and I partner up, but I suppose that wouldn't really work now."

Draco smirked, "Sorry Zambini. If you were more on top of your game, I wouldn't have beat you to the punch."

The forced smile Blaise gave him twitched, though Ella didn't think her brother noticed.

"Now… I'm not sure. A chance to get out of an exam or two makes it worthwhile to try to find a partner, but I'm not sure who." He looked unfavorably down the table. "Even in Slytherin, I don't believe many people are up to par."

"Blaise, you and I could be partners," Pansy exclaimed like it was an ingenious idea. "Since someone doesn't want to be with me."

Draco rolled his eyes but held up a defensive hand, gesturing towards Ella.

"She's my sister. Its blood."

Pansy gave a roll of her eyes too, but the effect of irritation was dampened by the pout of her lips.

"Ah, I'll think about it." Blaise said offhand, and Ella covered a snicker with a sip of her drink.

"-with your assigned House partners."

Ella coughed violently and she choked on her drink, nearly straining her neck to face the Headmaster. The Hall had once more fallen very quiet.

"What?" Ella said frantically, looking between her brother and Blaise. "What did he say?"

A grimace formed on Blaise's face. Draco looked at her in alarm; he too was anxious about what he had heard.

"-once you have decided whether or not you and your partner will participate, you may sign up on the sheet posted outside the Great Hall. You have until November first to do so. I hope you all will consider this opportunity, as it is a chance to improve your schoolwork and to further your relations outside your House."

With that, Dumbledore finally sat back down, falling into conversation with McGonagall.

"What did he say?" Ella said slowly, looking for some sort of confirmation that she had heard the last part of his speech wrong. Her tongue felt cumbersome, like it was too big for her mouth.

"Do you two ever listen to anything?" came the nasally, annoyed voice of Nott a few seats down. "He said we have to team up with our partners from the Sorting Hat or we can't do the tournament."

Ella's heart dropped to her knees. She looked to Blaise, who reluctantly nodded his head in agreement.

"You've got to be joking!" Draco sneered in disgust, a dark scowl crossing his features. He looked murderous. A number of students from other tables craned their head at the harshness of his voice. "You can't expect me to work with that idiot! I haven't got a shot in hell at winning. You've already made me lose by default."

Fuming, Draco glared up at the staff table, making eye contact with Snape. The potions professor, who had heard Draco's shout of disgust, gave the smallest of shrugs seeming to say 'deal with it'.

His fist slammed down on the table, knocking over his goblet. Ella barely registered the ice from his drink clink against his plate before he pushed back hard in his seat, storming out of the Great Hall.

Ella hadn't moved since Blaise's nod. Her eyes were glossed over as she stared blankly ahead, trying to reel her mind back in. She sunk her head into her hands, placing her elbows on the table. The sleeve of her shirt was soon soaked with Draco's pumpkin juice, but she hardly noticed it. Why couldn't she ever catch a break? First she had to do 'get-to-know-you' assignments with Potter, and now… Her nails dug into her skin as her entire body tensed. She could almost cry she was so angry. Though it was a long shot, winning the tournament would have guaranteed her an 'Outstanding' on an OWL that any fifth year would have killed for. Literally. It was worth committing several felonies. The amount of pressure it would have alleviated would have made her fifth year at least bearable, compared to the hell most students normally went through. The amount of studying she could have eliminated… and now...

She heard Blaise clear his throat awkwardly beside her.

"Sorry Ella."

She only mumbled in reply, slipping her hands into her hair.

"This would have helped so much." she said in the most dejected voice she had ever uttered, finally lifting her head.

"I know, I remember last year all too well. Would have given you some piece of mind."

"You think?" she snapped, not caring if she upset him.

Not at all hungry, she too pushed her food away, rising from the table.

"I'll see you later." Ella said in a tight, clipped tone. As she walked toward the Entrance Hall, she chanced a look at the Gryffindor table, noticing Potter's relaxed posture as he laughed at something Weasley said beside him; the Mudblood shaking her head at the two. Her blood boiled the longer she looked, furious that she had him as a partner, furious that he was so carefree while she was so miserable, and last but not least, furious that his blood soaked image kept unwillingly slipping into her mind.

"I can't believe it's over." Harry said for the tenth time, the words never tiring on his lips. He leaned back in his chair in the library, the volume in the room still high (despite their location and Pince's threats) from Dumbledore's announcement days before. He could hardly believe his luck. He was done. Done with having to deal with a Malfoy, done having to meet in cramped, sweltering classrooms, done with the insults, the attitude, the detentions… Balancing on the back legs of his chair and looking around the room, he knew he wasn't the only one happy.

"I can't believe you survived." Ron said, "Shows how tough you really are mate. Anyone else, and I think they would have died. All those detentions, plus having to put up with her as company-"

"Oh stop being so dramatic you two," Hermione lightly admonished, but even she had a smile on her face, happy Harry no longer had to put up with the meetings.

Harry laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. The meetings were nothing but a constant source of discomfort and stress, and he was ecstatic he was done with them. Everything in his life shone in a brighter light lately: his workload, Malfoy's not so subtle jabs, rigorous Quidditch practices in preparation for their rematch against Slytherin… even Snape. Putting up with the Ella had almost been a worse start to the term than he had last year, when nearly the entire school thought he was a pompous lunatic. Almost. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction (even mentally) that the meetings had been that treacherous for him.

"Aren't you disappointed that you aren't competing in the tournament Harry? You'd do quite well in it, considering, well, everything you've gone through." Hermione said, tentatively. "Besides, I would have thought you two would take full advantage of trying to get out of a few exams."

Harry placed his feet back on the ground, pulling his open textbook towards him.

"It would be brilliant to eliminate a few exams. They're a lot of work, but I don't feel like it's such a loss. It can't be nearly as bad as last year with those OWLS."

"Except they'll be preparing us for NEWTS soon enough." Hermione said distractedly, shuffling through a thick stack of parchment. "It would be a clever idea to try to ease your workload so you can get a head start on studying."

"Ugh, Hermione don't start already. We aren't even halfway through this school year yet." Ron complained, flipping through another page.

"I'm only speaking truthfully. I would think Harry would find the tournament a bit more intriguing than he's letting on."

Harry was intrigued. If he had been paired with any other partner, he probably would have gone for it. He knew his chances to get far in the tournament were high with all the challenges he had faced since entering the Wizarding World. He even briefly wondered if his participation in the tournament could help further his chances at becoming an Auror; if he actually won. But to willingly put himself into a situation with Ella again, where they would have to rely on one another... Where they would have to listen to each other… he didn't think he had the strength to do it. Yet with Dumbledore's foreboding reminders about the storm that was brewing outside the school, he knew the lessened workload would be well worth it. It would give him a chance to focus on more important things: like running the defense group. Or the prophecy. Or about how in the world he was supposed to come out on top in a fight between himself and Voldemort. He violently pushed the last two thoughts away, his insides already squirming at the thought.

"It would be a nice perk. Wish I could compete." Ron said resentfully.

Hermione's suddenly quizzical expression focused on Ron.

"Why can't you?"

He laughed, "Come off it Hermione. I mean, I know I'm decent in a fight, but to best the entire school? What's the point if you already know you won't get far?"

She shook her head, "Well an attitude like that won't help much, will it?" She gave an exasperated sigh, "You know Ron, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. If you just applied yourself, you could make it in the tournament."

He looked at her in mild surprise.

Her face reddened slightly, "I mean, we've been sitting here for thirty minutes and you've actually been studying. That shows some promise."

Ron stared at the page in front of him for several seconds, before picking it up and showing them a Bulgarian Keeper advertising a new pair of gloves.

Hermione's face fell, "Of course."

"What? I haven't got anything due anytime soon. So why not relax?" Ron said defensively, his ears slightly red. "But thanks for the vote of confidence."

"So you aren't going to do it?" Harry asked.

"Nah, I can't imagine I'd make it very far. I mean maybe with someone else, sure. But I'm with Lavender."

Hermione's face puckered at the name, but she carried on. "Why would that matter?"

Ron let out a groan.

"Don't get me wrong, she's quite good looking," Ron began, to which Hermione gave a disgusted scoff in reply. "But she isn't exactly the best at Defense. She good at things like… Divination."

"So nothing," Hermione mumbled under her breath, but it was heard. It was no secret the lack of esteem Hermione held the subject in.

Instead of bolstering at the response as Harry expected, Ron went with a different tactic.

"Everyone knows the subject's a load of rubbish." Ron agreed, but looked over his shoulder, no doubt checking to see if Lavender was near to hear him.

She'd been popping up randomly since the meetings ended, trying to talk to Ron whenever she could. For his part, Ron was pleasantly surprised but mildly uncomfortable every time she was around for too long. She tended to hover, and was overly showy in her behavior towards him. Harry thought his friend had a good sense of humor, but he noticed Lavender seemed to dramatically laugh at jokes Harry thought were less than impressive. He had also noticed, however, that Ron was much more willing to talk to Lavender whenever Hermione was around.

"So there's not really much of a point. We wouldn't do very well together."

"You never know, the teams are all assigned so randomly that even the oddest pairing could have a shot. It's not like the Sorting Hat chose according to magical talent," Harry said. "I'd consider it at least."

"You could still participate and get some extra credit. That's why Connor and I are trying."

"What?" Ron blurted out. His Quidditch magazine suddenly lay forgotten.

"You and Bradley signed up?" Harry asked mildly surprised. Hermione was a brilliant witch and definitely knew how to fight; he'd been a firsthand witness to her quick thinking, and her knowledge of valuable spells floored Harry at times. But he knew she preferred the theoretical side to things more often than the practical.

"Well, I didn't plan to originally. I would have preferred to be more of a spectator and research some of the spells cast and just do the essays. But Connor really wanted to try and since I was impartial, I figured it's a great opportunity to gain points… well I couldn't very well say no and take away his chance of fighting."

"That's brilliant, I'd bet a few galleons that you two make it far. Bradley seems pretty smart."

Her eyes lit up, "Oh he really is. I'd say he knows more than I do in a few subjects; and I know how studious I can get."

Harry smirked, "Well I wouldn't go that far. I don't think anyone in the world reads as much as you do."

Hermione's cheeks turned pink, "I just-"

"Potter."

Startled, the three of them jumped at the voice. Harry froze in place, his jaw dropping to the floor.

Ella stood tall and confident beside them, her hand slipped under the strap of the bag on her shoulder. She held her head up high, and her eyes flickered haughtily over Ron and Hermione before staring hard at Harry.

"What do you want?" Ron said harshly, shooting daggers at the younger girl.

"Did I say your name Weasley?" Ella drawled just like her brother. She glanced down her nose at him and her lips pulled back into a highly amused smirk.

"Reading Quidditch magazines? You honestly think those glove will help with your performance?"

Despite himself, Ron turned a deep shade of maroon.

"I have to do something to counter your cheating."

She gave an involuntary flinch, but kept her head held high.

"I wasn't among those who were using the bracelet, McGonagall cleared me. So I certainly wasn't cheating every time I scored a point against you. And that was..." she tapped a finger to her chin in an obvious show of smugness, "how many times again? I lost count. Guess we know who the better player is between us, don't we?"

Ron growled, his hackles raised but he couldn't think of anything clever enough to strike back with so quickly.

"So?" Ella said, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

"What?" Harry said rather stupidly, still beyond surprised she approached him. In broad daylight, with roughly a hundred people witness to it. Knowing he must looked like a clubbed troll, he quickly cleared his throat, pushing his hands against the armrests to straighten himself. He thought he was done with her… what was she doing here?

"A word?"

Utterly shocked and beyond confused, he looked at Ron and Hermione as if asking what to do. The look on Ron's face could make someone drop dead faster than the killing curse. Hermione looked quite surprised herself, but gave him a shrug as if encouraging him to move. He rose slowly from his seat, shuffling after the blonde as she whipped around, stalking up the isle of bookshelves.

He followed her row after row, spotting only a handful of students sprinkled throughout the endless isles until they reached the furthest shelf back. They were so embedded in the maze of books Harry could only faintly make out the sounds of the other students in the main lobby.

Ella leaned her back against the window, the light outside illuminating the stray stands of hair that had come undone from its hold. She tilted her head, a light grimace on her face as she considered him. Harry shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, his mind still a whirl.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here."

"You could say that."

She briefly bit her lip, before pushing off the wall with her hip.

"I'd like to compete in the tournament."

Harry blinked.

"What?" he asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Wow. You've really got that look of confusion down. Does it happen quite often?" She let out a breath of laughter, but Harry's thoughts were still too disorganized to answer. At the lack of response she let out a sigh, "Look, I'll cut to the chase. It's my OWLS year. I know you could care less, but I could really use to get an edge on the massive amount of studying I have ahead of me. And though I don't like it, you're my only chance at achieving that. I'm one of the top students in my year in every subject I'm taking, and if the stories told about you hold even a fraction of truth, I think we could make a decent run for it. So what do you say?"

Harry was speechless. In his wildest dreams he'd never imagined this scenario.

"You want to compete in the tournament?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He watched her purse her lips, before letting go with a soft pop.

"Isn't that what I said?"

He turned from her, leaning back against a row of books. He could feel the edges of a few digging into his spine.

"What made you think I would do this with you? Those meetings were terrible," Harry was so thrown off he couldn't help but be blunt. He glanced sideways at her, "for both of us."

"You aren't wrong about that," she said back, wrinkling her nose at the memory. "They may have been bloody awful, but like then, the pros of attempting this outweigh the cons. If we can't get through five minutes of practice, we can quit at any time. I would think you'd consider this for the obvious reason that if we made it far, you could possibly eliminate a few exams."

She added almost as an afterthought, "A win could also be used to heighten your status within that little club you're running. A way to give you some legitimate authority for those who… question Dumbledore's decision. And I know those people are quite numerous. If anything, winning would give you more time to sign some autographs."

By now his surprise had worn off, and his ire was rising.

"I hardly care about that," he barked, by now standing straight in front of her. "You know, for wanting to convince someone to cooperate with you, you're really know how to piss them off."

"Right." Ella ground out after some time, but an apology did not come with it. Not that he expected it.

Harry blew out a breath, running his fingers through his hair, the familiar motion calming him slightly.

"Well?" she said after several minutes of silence. "Yes or no?"

"I'm thinking."

"Which is obviously a very difficult task," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He clenched his fist in his pocket. "Are you going to continuously hurl insults at me? Because if that's the case, the answer is no."

"It's a little hard to stop when you make it just too easy." Ella replied, with the traditional Malfoy smirk in place.

Harry turned around, making his way back down the main isle. He didn't need this. She came to him, and if this was how to was going to start-

"Potter, wait!"

He didn't bother stopping, but a moment later there was a hard tug on his sleeve and he whirled around.

"I'm-I can refrain from the comments."

Harry gave a hollow laugh, "Really? I don't think it's possible for a Malfoy to be civil."

He jerked his arm away in an attempt to get free.

"It is if I say so! Look," she began and Harry could tell she was trying hard to keep the exasperation out of her voice, "we'll keep it strictly professional. We meet, practice some spells, and leave. We don't have to talk-"

"We don't have to talk?" Harry scoffed, "Have you ever been in a duel? Communication is kind of key."

"I meant about anything outside of the tournament. Like I said, we keep it professional. We both have something to gain out of this, so I think if we put in the effort, we could maybe make it work. At least enough to get as far as we can. The best case scenario I can think of for us is that we make it far enough to get some extra points: you in class and me with my OWLS. Realistically, that's all I expect to come from this, but any little bit of help is better than none." At his lack of response, Harry saw her clench her jaw in frustration; she was used to getting what she wants. "If there's even a sliver of a chance of eliminating an OWL, then its worth it, I want to fight for it. Regardless of the outcomes, afterwards... it's business as usual."

Harry rolled his shoulders, already exhausted. Did he have the energy to put up with this once or twice a week? He wasn't exactly sure. Harry still couldn't believe she was actually here asking him. What about her 'image'? If she was worried about her brother when they had to complete mandatory meetings, how would he react when he found out she was voluntarily teaming up with him? Though he could understand the desperation that had driven her to ask. OWLS were more terrible and time consuming than he ever thought they could be. And he wasn't even playing Quidditch at the time. But none of that was his problem. What really threw him for a loop was how in the world she could think they'd be remotely successful? They couldn't talk for two minutes without hurling insults at each other, but she somehow thought that they could make it through another month? Possibly longer if they did well? He glanced at Ella from the corner of his eye, running her earlier statement through his mind again. If he did agree to try, the same rules as the House meetings didn't apply… he could quit anytime. For a vicious moment, the thought of telling her no, to keep her from something she was clearly desperate to get was so appealing, he almost let a refusal tumble out of his mouth. She deserved a big disappointment for the way she treated people.

But as much as he tried to ignore it, the temptation was definitely there. Though he wasn't bad with any of the three subjects, it would be a relief to win some extra points in case his grades slacked with a challenging topic. Not to mention the weight that would be lifted from his shoulders if he got lucky enough to actually win and could eliminate two exams. Not that they would. But McGonagall had warned him last year during their career evaluations that her NEWT level Transfiguration class wasn't going to be easy. So far, it had been doable, with Hermione's assistance, but she was right, the closer they got towards second semester, the harder it would get. But was it worth it?

"What's the verdict?" Ella's face had adopted a forced calm.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"I'm not making any promises. But-"

He may have imagined it, but he swore he saw a hint of a smile. And he very well may have, because before he was finished with his sentence, she was already a few rows away.

"I'll be in touch."

A/N: Hello readers! It's been a LONG time since I've updated. I'm sure all of my past readers thought the story was permanently abandoned. But I'm happy to tell you that I'm back. I just hit some major writer's block and had to put it aside. Fortunately, the distance I've had with this story made me generate some interesting ideas to combine with my original plot, which I believe I was lacking before. Hopefully, this means I'll keep a majority of you interested long enough to finish the story with me.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!