"Ahem."

Snape's deliberate cough echoed throughout the potion class room. His face showed no hint of annoyance or surprise at the scene before him. All his features seemed devoid of any emotion, as if he was a muggle staring blankly at a TV screen. This was a drastic contrast to the young witch who stood behind him in the doorway.

Hermione Granger did not know what it was to fail; she dreamed of failures in her sleep and saw this great fear reflected in every bogart she encountered, but she had never actually failed anything. A dull ache of disappointment and a sharp pain of loss overcame her as she realised she had finally failed something; she had failed to gain appreciation from Ron, she had failed to gain his approval, his love, his heart. She had lost this one to Malfoy. Feeling violent tears swelling behind her eyes, she turned away and ran, she could not allow Ron to see her pain.

Draco quickly hauled himself off of Ron and got to his feet, brushing his hair from his eyes in a way he hoped appeared casual. Ron sat up on the floor, hastily redoing his shirt buttons, a sheepish grin on his face; he hadn't seen Hermione.

"So this is how muggles usually clean is it?" drawled Snape. "Isn't it funny how you've been in here for almost an hour and I can see no change in the state of my classroom?"

Ron looked at Draco in alarm, but Draco's gaze was fixed straight ahead on Snape, his neck rigid.

"Might I suggest that your current methods of cleaning aren't particularly effective?" Continued Snape. "I will be back to check on your progress shortly and I assure you, next time I catch you slacking off, I won't be so calm."

With a sweep of his long black robes, Snape was gone, leaving a painfully silent classroom in his wake.

Draco still would not look at Ron; he stood unmoving, his gaze fixed upon the open doorway. His stagnant position intimidated Ron and the redhead was unsure whether he should approach Draco. Instead, Ron quietly picked up a mop and began cleaning again, his eyes frantically jumping towards Draco's immobile figure every other second.

Finally, Draco moved to face Ron, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"What did you do that for?"

"What?' asked Ron nervously.

"Oh, I'm so cold, Draco…hold me, touch me," mocked Draco angrily.

"I – But I never said any of that. It was – you were the one who – I never even – you came onto –"

Draco cut Ron off with a cold menacing laugh. "I, Draco Malfoy, came onto you? Do you really think that someone like me would be interestedin a poor weasel like you? How amusing."

An immense wave of overdue dread washed through Ron's body, his heart was sinking; of course Malfoy never liked him, of course.

"Now, I don't really feel like cleaning tonight, so I'm going to bed. I'm sure you're used to cleaning. Families of your low status don't generally own house-elves." Malfoy smiled smugly and strolled out whistling, leaving a heartbroken Ron finally alone where he could cry freely.

It wasn't til later on when Draco was brushing his teeth in the mirror that the full weight of what he had just done hit him. He had alienated the only person, in this entire school, that he had ever cared about. It was second nature to him, he had been playing this game for so long. This time, he doubted he was the winner. Draco stared at his reflection in disgust.