Hey guys! So, this is going to make me sound like the most unintelligent person on the planet, but, before I was DelightingInMyMadness, I was the Turtlepirate. I wrote a couple Zutara stories under that alias before I forgot my password. To everything. And I will be putting The Perfect Wife and Midnight Confusion on under this name after revisions so I can continue those stories. Anyways, on with my latest brain child...

In The Garden

It starts like just like every other time he does it. I sneak into the common room after a long night of studying in the library, to find him snogging some random buxom blond on the couch in front of the fire. I probably should tell him that I know what he does when I'm not around,and how hurt I feel, but I really don't want to end what we have. So, instead, I slink back into the hall way and decide I need some air, and to be away from everyone before I snap.

Finding my way out of the front doors and down the steps, I run to my special place. Where I always come when I catch Ronald with another woman or, when they're drunk, Harry. It's a small marble bench close to the Forbidden Forest. Surrounded by trees and next to a small brook, it is the perfect place to cry; no one can see or here you. Sitting on my bench, I let it all out, all the tears and rage and jealousy. Why does he never kiss me, his own girlfriend, like that? Am I that unattractive? Why does he even keep me around when I'm obviously so unappealing?

The snapping noise of someone approaching breaks my train of thought. Wiping my tears away as best as I can with my sleeve, I stand and start to reach for my wand.

"Who do we have here?" The voice asks menacingly as it approaches. "Granger. What are you doing out after hours? And where is Potty and Weasel? Don't yell. It would be rather inconvenient to have to explain that to the fat oaf and his dog when they come running," the voice says calmly as it steps into my line of sight.

"Malfoy, why has the schools resident death eater graced me with his presence this fine evening?" I ask in a fake amiable tone.

"Well, Granger, the school's resident mudblood princess happened to be sniveling rather loudly on the grounds after hours, and I just had to see the book worm have a break down. That always makes my day so much better," he deadpans. "You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing out here? Isn't this breaking one of your precious rules?"

"Sod off, ferret. I don't have to answer your questions."

He stalks toward me. "You do. See, I have information that would mortify you if it were to go public."

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow in challenge.

"Really. The Griffindor Princess stares at me in potions when she thinks I can't see her looking. See anything you like?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Oh no... he saw? Okay... one quick lie won't hurt. "Please! Me? Staring at you? I was looking at Blaise. Now that is one fine black man." There. That wasn't even really a lie. Blaise is good looking.

"Now, now, Granger," he wags his finger, shaking his head and walking toward me. "The brightest witch of our age can't even think up a proper lie? Blaise doesn't even sit next to me in potions, although I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you think he's 'one fine black man'. Unless," he pauses, letting the threat settle in, "you do as you're told and answer the question."

Damn... Just... Damn. Am I really that bad at lying? Do I really want to risk humiliation just so I don't have to tell my nemesis about Ron and that other woman? What else would Malfoy say about me if I don't... hang on... Why does he even care? "Why do you care why I was outside crying, Malfoy?" I inquire.

He hesitates a moment before answering me. "Because, Granger, I can always use it as blackmail later. Plus, I would like to thank the person who made the Griffindor Princess cry. They just might be my new best friend," he smirks, pleased by his own answer.

Dejectedly, I look down at my Mary Jane's. "I'm sure Ron would be pleased to here you say that," I mutter sarcastically.

"What has that gangling twit done? And yes, you must answer that one, as well."

"He was kissing another girl while he thought I was in the library," I sniff as the tears start to flow yet again at the memory.

"What a weasel."

"Did you just sympathize with me?" I question quickly, confused.

"No," he answered hastily. "But any man who cheats is a rank bastard. It's just a fact."

"And you're not?" I ask jokingly as my tears dry.

"Obviously not, as I am checking on someone I don't even like when they are distressed."

I look up and stalk toward him in irritation. "Yes, threatening to blackmail someone if they don't give you information is quite noble indeed, Malfoy."

"Well, I was going to help you, but old habits die hard, ya' no?" Malfoy admitted quietly when I get less than a meter away from him. "I just can't be civil to you. It's a physical impossibility. It's my natural response."

"Natural response to...?"

"To the unknown," He muttered, looking at the ground.

"You've known me for almost seven years, Malfoy," I say pointedly, hoping to either get an explanation to his puzzling answer or silence him.

"But I don't know or understand a single thing about you. Take, for instance, your frizzy hair; is it impervious to taming charms and potions, or do one of your golden boys happen to like it in a special way?" he asks, not unkindly Unconsciously, while he speaks, he takes a lock of my hair between his fingers and is twirling it around.

"Malfoy," I say slowly, "is there a reason you're toying with my hair, or are you just that fascinated by it?"

"What?" he starts, disturbed from his trance, dropping my hair and taking a step back, as if just realizing how close he is to me.

"You should get back up to the castle, Granger. You're too close to the Forbidden Forest. If you get eaten or mangled, Dumbles and the Golden boys will have me killed. Or worse, expelled," he mocks, in an eerily good impression of me.

"You're right..." I begin, walking past him.

"Of course I am," he replies in his usual conceited tone.

"You are physically incapable of being civil to me," I say, then trudge up the hill to the castle steps, not checking to see if Malfoy is behind me. I have more important problems.