Draco sat with Pansy under a gnarled old tree by the riverside, a short distance from the Order, his lumos lighting them both. He could feel the others watching him and Pansy – could feel Hermione watching him and Pansy. A smile played at his lips. Hermione jealous. Draco rather liked it – not that Hermione had anything to be jealous about. He and Pansy had never been anything, not really. Just friends who...indulged from time to time – although it was true that for a while Pansy had been trying to woo him into marriage, it hadn't been because they loved each other or anything so sweet, rather just because he was a better match than most of the other pureblood wizards close to Pansy's age. No, they were just friends, when it came right down to it.