Gryffindor ended up winning the Quidditch Cup, despite the insanity of the game itself. I'd gone this time to watch so I could report back to Sirius, and was very glad I did. It was the most intense game I'd witnessed yet.

While this outcome was very exciting for my friends in Gryffindor, it was absolutely detrimental to mixed study group.

The first session, scheduled the day after said game, started off already terribly tense. Malfoy was in a sour mood when we arrived, Pansy with him. I yawned as I sat down, still yet to recover from the limited sleep I'd had. We'd partied well into the morning.

"You're chipper," Malfoy remarked, likely irritable at the reason for my exhaustion. It wasn't Malfoy's fault that Slytherin lost, by any means. He tried his best to keep up with Harry's Firebolt, and didn't stoop to his team's level of underhanded tactics. He'd been close to the Snitch, but Harry was closer.

"I'm wiped," I admitted. "Long night."

"It was a long night for us too," Pansy glowered at her best friend. "Because we had to listen to this git moan about it the whole time."

"You saw the speed of his broom!"  Malfoy retorted, cheeks flushed. "How was I supposed to compete with that?"

"Your team did a bloody good job of compensating." Seamus remarked with a smirk. "There are rivers shorter than the list of fouls they pulled during that game alone."

"Don't rope me in with them." Malfoy berated him. "I'm the only one competent enough to handle a broom."

"I wouldn't go that far." Seamus replied coolly.

Malfoy cocked his head. "Don't see you on the team, Finnegan."

"Firebolts are a little more expensive than Nimbus 2001's." Seamus was quick to counter. "You don't even have one yourself."

"Alright, enough of you two." Blaise Zabini came out of nowhere and plopped himself right across from Seamus, his arms crossed over his chest until he started wagging a finger in his face.

"Draco is the best flyer on that damn team, Finnegan. We all know it, even if you lot like to let Potter overshadow him. And Draco," Zabini rounded on him next, "the only reason Potter's on the team is because he's like the Boy Wonder of Quidditch. Wood sacked their old Seeker for him. I don't think he's got the heart, or the courage, to do the same to Gryffindor's Triple Threat for Finnegan."

If either Slytherin was alarmed as to how Zabini knew where they were, they didn't look it. Instead, they both just seemed mildly peeved. Seamus took my attention away from both of them.

"How'd you know I play Chaser?" Seamus raised an eyebrow.

Zabini shrugged noncommittally. "I've seen you."

A small smirk glanced his lips. Something about his response must have gotten to him, because Seamus broke eye contact and immediately reached over to grab papers from his bag. When he realized everyone else was staring at him, his face went bright pink.

"I thought we were all here to study?" He snapped.

We all started to follow suit, though Dean and I exchanged glances. What was happening?

"We specifically didn't invite you to this," Malfoy said pointedly, as though finally realizing Zabini's presence was not accounted for. "Why are you here?"

"Yeah, I only realized how rude that was after it happened." Zabini pouted childishly. "What if I needed to study too?"

"You keep the rest of us from studying," Pansy griped at him. "We'd have let you come along in one of the later sessions, after we've warmed up. It's already been terribly unproductive without your influence thanks to these two."

She nodded in Malfoy's general direction, though she'd been talking about both him and Seamus. He looked terribly annoyed by this, but only sighed in exasperation.

"Blaise, you can stay if you behave yourself." He warned. "If not, I won't hesitate to put you in a full Body Bind, and Longbottom can tell you how unpleasant those are firsthand."

Neville swallowed. I'd talked with him personally about the study group away from Dean and Seamus, just to make sure he'd be okay with it. He agreed, as long as I kept Malfoy in check.

"Sorry to bring that up," Malfoy almost seemed to read my mind, because he quickly backpedaled. "Not my finest moment."

It wasn't the greatest apology, but Neville didn't seem entirely ready to forgive either. Instead, he agreed with a wry smile. "You've had better."

The tension eased away, and finally we started to actually get to work. Neville helped Pansy with Herbology. Dean and Malfoy and I worked hard at Arithmancy and consulted Pansy when we needed assistance. Zabini and Seamus were working on some kind of Transfiguration, the nature of which I wasn't sure. Every attempt dissolved into Zabini teasing him and Seamus lighting his wand or his quill on fire.

"I didn't realize you had such a temper," Zabini remarked, casually putting out another flame for him.

"Some people have a real talent for bringing it out," Seamus bit back behind clenched teeth.

Zabini only laughed and told him to try again. Apparently he was really good at Transfiguration, but when I asked, Pansy declared that she refused to ask him for assistance.

"A general cookbook would be more helpful," she muttered to me. Looking back at my parchment, she added, "and check your equation here. Where did this six come from?"

"Up my arse, probably," I said. She snorted at this and let me work it out on my own, returning to studying with Neville. I was relieved at how much she was warming up to me. I'd been starting to like her a lot myself, even before we'd started studying together. Malfoy always spoke very highly of her. I'd thought she'd been his only close friend.

But then again, he had mentioned Zabini a lot this year. Maybe they hadn't been friends before?

"Zabini," I called over, stopping him from aggravating Seamus once more. "How'd you and Malfoy become friends?"

"Oh, easy," he said over Malfoy's resulting groan, "he made a goblet blow up in McGonagall's face last year. I knew I had to befriend him."

Malfoy massaged his temples. "This is why I don't bring you anywhere."

The rest of us were cackling, though, Dean and Seamus especially.

"Damn, Malfoy," Dean snickered. "No wonder she hates you."

"It was an accident!" He protested hotly. "I don't Transfigure well under pressure, and she is by far the scariest Professor we have. Including the literal ghost."

None of us could really argue with that. We sidetracked into McGonagall horror stories before we returned to studying, now switching around subjects. I finally managed to pull Seamus away from Zabini, though the tension didn't dissipate for a while afterward.

"I wonder what their deal is," I said to Malfoy afterward. The two of us sat outside by the Black Lake, trying to enjoy the remnants of day before night arose. "Is Zabini always like this?"

"Believe it or not, he was rather shy in first year," Malfoy recalled, a fond sort of look in his eye. "But he really came out of his shell when Pansy and I started to hang around him. Maybe we gave him confidence, though clearly he doesn't need it anymore." He rolled his eyes. "Now he likes to rile as many people up as possible."

"He likes a reaction, and Seamus likes to react," I mused. "What an unfortunate pairing."

"Finnegan did end up Transfiguring that quill, though," Malfoy reminded me. "As much of a detriment Blaise was to studying, he was able to teach that. Though the bloody thing nearly stabbed me. You'd think they'd pick a safer item."

I couldn't help but laugh at his surly expression. "You know what they say — the pen is mightier than the sword, unless you can turn your pen into a sword. Then it's just as mighty."

I grinned. Malfoy did not find this nearly as humorous as I did, and only responded with an irritable glare.

Though it had its kinks and flaws, study group was an all around success. Tensions may have started out high, but gradually they eased into mutual satisfaction a month later. Well, except for Blaise and Seamus, but nobody really knew what was going on there. They worked well together sometimes, but mostly just argued.

"It's like watching you and Malfoy all over again," Dean remarked to me after our fifth Sunday. Seamus was grumbling to Neville a few steps behind us on the way to Gryffindor tower. Heading toward the dungeons were the three Slytherins, Pansy flicking Blaise in the back of the head as he laughed, and Malfoy berating the both of them.

"How so?" I raised an eyebrow. "I thought Malfoy and I were a little more subtle."

"Oh boy," Dean looked weary. "Do I have news for you."

I froze in my tracks momentarily, befuddled, before running to catch up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you two made it everyone's problem," Dean rolled his eyes at me. "Really, you had to have noticed at least a little bit. You can't get through a conversation without mentioning him. When he does something good, you tell everyone. When he does something bad, you complain about it to everyone. Really, Lila, you should just snog him and get it over with."

My retort was halted in its tracks by his final statement. Instead, I sputtered, trying to get around the sentence 'I've already done that, Dean, but that doesn't mean I fancy him or anything.' Instead I just came up with, "that's ridiculous."

"Your business is your business, and he seems to be shaping up some anyway," Dean continued. "Why don't you use his first name?"

This felt like a question I could answer, until it wasn't. I'd used Pansy's first name as long as I'd known her. Blaise was Zabini until the second session, but now he's Blaise, even though I just met him.

"It feels illegal," was what I finally decided on. "And Ron and Harry wouldn't like that."

"Oh please, when have you ever let Ron or Harry tell you what to do?" Dean elbowed me with a grin. "Try it. See what he does."

I thought it was stupid, but the more I considered it, the more curious I was. We were friends now, it shouldn't be a problem. So, in our final Potions class, I ran a little experiment.

"Draco," I said suddenly. He looked up from the cauldron, as though to respond, but quickly his eyes narrowed as his ears blushed pink.

"What did you just call me?" He demanded.

"I was just testing it out." I raised both hands placatingly. "Is that such a crime?"

"Feels like one," he made a face, like he was considering it. "But I suppose it makes sense. We're friends, that's what friends do." He stared at me, and contorting his face as though it took some effort, said, "Lila."

Yeah, that was weird. Then again, I didn't hate it. "That takes some getting used to. It doesn't bother me, though."

"It doesn't bother me either," he responded with a mischievous smile. "Lila."

I hummed in response. "Draco."

And then we got back to work.

"So?" Dean asked me afterward. "How did it go?"

"Now you're just being nosy," I elbowed him. "You're making it your own problem."

"I never said I wasn't curious," he defended himself. "And you're avoiding the question."

"It worked," I informed him, unsure why he was so invested in this. "I suppose he's Draco now."

"Hm," Dean nodded mysteriously. "Thought so."

We spent at least four hours in the library on the final Sunday, everyone locked in for the upcoming week. It was the most packed it had ever been this year, so we had to work over the steady buzz of chatter.

Word must have spread about our odd group, because several people watched us while they worked, muttering between themselves. I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Really, you'd think they'd have exams next week," Pansy scoffed, irritable.

"They're all talking about me," Malf- Draco replied, and his expression was rather set. "Jealous, probably, that they couldn't grow a pair and ask for help. I'll relish in the look on their faces when I receive top marks."

I was awed at how far Draco had come this year. He caught me watching him, so I presented him with a proud smile. He rolled his eyes and flicked a wad of parchment at me, but he smiled back nonetheless.

Exams flew by in a blur, but I felt rather good about all of them. My last exam, Arithmancy, was on Friday morning, but Thursday was free after Divination.

Perhaps that was lucky for me, because Thursday morning I saw Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and two others walk across the castle grounds. Buckbeak's execution was meant to happen today — Hagrid had lost the trial, but Draco had told me the chances of that succeeding were slim, no matter how much research we'd done.

"It's supposed to happen at five, which isn't far from now," Draco and I stood by the castle doors facing Hagrid's hut. He was frowning to himself as he looked at Buckbeak, chained obliviously to the fence post. "If you really want that bird to live, you're just going to have to save it yourself."

"Since when do you encourage me to break the law?" I teased. Draco just rolled his eyes and continued to talk.

"You'll have to let them see that it's there first, or else that great oaf's going to get arrested," he said. "That gives you about two-five minutes to greet it, untie the thing, and get out of there."

"You've thought this out," I concluded, and he rolled his eyes at me.

"I'd do it myself, if I were half as brave as you are," he admitted, looking back toward the hut as if ashamed to admit it. "It felt right I be the one to save it, since I was the one that put it in that position." He huffed. "But if my father found out-" he cut himself off and swallowed. "I shouldn't tell you that. I won't make you feel bad for me. I'm a coward, and that's all there is to it."

"Draco, you're thirteen," I reminded him pointedly. "And you weren't raised to be reckless. My father taught me that I should always, always do what I think is right, and that's the best way to learn what is and what isn't. Your father taught you what his father taught him, so on and so forth, because it's kept them safe. Right? Deep down, I reckon he just wants to keep you safe. You're not a coward. It's just how you've grown up."

Draco looked at me for a little while, silver eyes almost watery. "Lila, I'll never understand why you only see the best in the worst people."

"You're not a bad person, Draco," I told him flatly. "You'd be a bad person if you didn't care at all what happened to Buckbeak, or Hagrid."

"Mister Malfoy."

The greeting startled us both as we whipped around. Cornelius Fudge stood there, alone, walking toward us with a troubled expression.

"I hope I'm not intruding." He looked between us. "I'm glad I ran into you. The execution is about to begin, and—"

Draco then did something that I'll never forget.

"Confundo!" The spell hit Fudge square in the forehead, perhaps a little aggressively, but Draco paid no mind. He continued to insist. "You've forgotten your decree for the hippogriff's trial in the loo on the third floor and need to retrieve it."

As soon as he stopped speaking, Fudge blinked blearily and patted his pockets. Panicked, he looked back at Draco. "Excuse me, it seems I've forgotten something."

He then dashed away, his robes sweeping behind him. I didn't dare speak until Fudge had turned the corner.

"Did you just-" I stammered. "Did you just Confund the Minister of Magic?!"

"Hope nobody else saw that." He shrugged. "But I bought you some time. So what now? Are you going to save the bird?"

I scoffed. "Obviously I'm going to save the bird, but I'm not going to let you stand here and tell me you're a coward when you just—"

"You'd better hurry, because they're going to start soon," Draco cut me off. "Good luck."

"Yeah, yeah." I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Draco."

"Thank you, Lila."

I didn't get to ask him what he was thanking me for, because he promptly shoved me away and turned on his heel. He was right, it was almost five, though they couldn't start without the Minister. I crept toward Hagrid's without event and plastered myself to the back wall. Inside, Hagrid was talking to somebody.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it -- while it happens. Said he wants ter -- ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore. . ."

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," came Hermione's tearful response. Shoot! The three of them must be in there with him. They'd surely go out the back, meaning I'd be in plain sight if they found me.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the castle." Hagrid argued. "I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' if Fudge an' Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh'll be in big trouble."

There were a few moments of silence followed by a sudden shriek.

"Ron, I don't believe it -- it's Scabbers!"

All of my thoughts suddenly went quiet. Of course he'd hide here. Hagrid's wasn't in the bounds of the map. Sirius and I had met just yesterday. Peter Pettigrew was within my reach this whole time, and I hadn't even considered the possibility.

"That's him, isn't it?" Came a voice from below.

I looked into my pocket to find Brutus poking his head out from inside. Never have I been so relieved that my snake was incredibly disobedient.

"Go! Tell Sirius!" I hissed. "Quick!"

Sirius couldn't speak Parseltongue, but I trusted Brutus to get creative. He slithered out of my pocket and off toward the Whomping Willow. All in good time, because from inside I heard Hagrid murmur.

"They're comin'."

Shit. I'd have to just pray they wouldn't see me as I crept along the back wall and rounded the corner, hiding next to a barrel. Just in time, because the back door opened and I heard four sets of footsteps come out. Buckbeak was in plain sight, meaning I was in plain sight of Buckbeak.

When he noticed me, he started thrashing his head back and forth and pawing the ground. He knew what was happening and wanted to get out. I raised a placating hand, but Hagrid soothed him from a few feet away. It was a miracle I wasn't seen.

"Go on," he said to the trio. "Get goin'."

"Hagrid, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—" Harry tried. "They can't kill him—"

"Go!" Hagrid insisted more forcefully. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They must have went, because Hagrid retreated back into the cabin just as a knock sounded at the front. Good, they must have seen Buckbeak on the way down, meaning I could start.

"Where is the beast?" The executioner demanded.

"Out -- outside," Hagrid croaked.

I retracted quickly just as the executioner looked out the window over my head. He looked back in when Fudge called his attention. Now deeming it truly safe, I crept toward Buckbeak, quickly stooping low into a bow.

"We -- er -- have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it."

After a moments pause, Buckbeak bowed in return. I approached and started undoing the knot on the fence post. Frustrated, I ended up simply severing the knot from the rope. "Diffindo."

"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at five p.m. —"

I started tugging at the rope, but Buckbeak refused to budge. Hagrid was still inside. I pulled harder, muttering under my breath. "Come on, if you don't get out of here you'll die!"

"... sentenced to execution