Winter 1998
"We can use the formulas we discussed last class for this case." Professor Vector waved her wand at the chalkboard, where a complex mix of spells and numbers appeared.
The door creaked open as Minerva McGonagall leaned her head into the classroom, coughing slightly.
"Headmistress?"
"Good day, Septima," McGonagall said. "I just want to remind your students about the owl gift exchange."
Draco let out a heartfelt groan which incurred McGonagall's censorious glare.
"It is mandatory for all Eighth Year students, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, her lips pursed in a thin line, and then she closed the door.
Draco nodded surly, cursing under his breath. Due to his abysmal luck, he might have the misfortune of having Zacharias Smith or Romilda Vane as partner. He shrugged and then scribbled a message on a piece of parchment which he folded into a neat bird, sending it flying to the front of the classroom.
Hermione was writing down the Arithmantic equations, her mouth pursed in concentration until she felt something nudging her shoulder. Looking up, she let out an exasperated sigh and picked up the insistent origami crane.
As she unfolded it, she muttered, "What does Malfoy want now?"
She scowled at the message. 'Granger, thanks for the Advanced Runes notes. Needed those since Potter dragged me into one of his escapades.'
Shaking her head, Hermione glared down at her schoolbag. Obviously the protecting spells she had placed upon it were not enough to stop the inquisitive Slytherin, especially when he was working in cahoots with Harry. She cursed the day those two became fast friends. Instead of being a benign influence on each other as she had earnestly hoped, the two Seekers spurred each other to flights of folly like going to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night and, worst of all, skipping important classes!
Septima Vector walked towards the blackboard and pointed at a blank space between two rows of numbers, her burgundy pointy hat slightly askew. "What do we need to perfect this equation?"
Hermione's hand shot up in the air.
Professor Vector nodded at her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"The rune Uruz, mind over matter, would give added power to the incantation." Hermione brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.
"Excellent insight, Miss Granger." Professor Vector flashed a grin at her. "Two points to Gryffindor."
As Septima went on to describe the way other branches of magic could be woven into Arithmantic calculations, Hermione smiled brightly. She picked up her quill and on the edge of her parchment wrote down Othila, the rune of hearth and home. Its squiggly shape, two straight lines reaching down left and right from a neat square, reminded her of the sturdy Underground sign high above the street where she took the tube to make the trip to her favorite bookshop in Charing Cross. It was a warm place of refuge, especially in winter when snow drenched the streets, and thus fitting for a small ward designed to safeguard her notes from grabby Slytherins!
After the Advanced Arithmantic class ended, Hermione hastily shoved her parchments, quill, and inkpot into her schoolbag and made her way out of the classroom, scowling at Draco's mop of blond hair which contrasted sharply next to Harry's unruly black locks. Malfoy's accomplice had obviously been waiting for him outside the door.
"Why do you two skip classes?" Hermione glared at them.
"Sorry, Hermione, Ron told me about this new pub in Hogsmeade." Harry scuffed his shoes on the stone floor, his hand brushing the nape of his neck.
"It's no big deal, Granger, your friend Potter just needed to unwind." Draco nudged his schoolbag as he flashed a smirk at Harry.
Hermione shook her head, but glancing at Harry's blushing cheeks, she noted the spark in his eyes which had been absent during the summer. She had to admit Harry appeared less haunted by his remembrances of the Final Battle when he was with Malfoy. Come to think of it, both Seekers did.
"I have to go to class. Just don't steal my notes next time," Hermione huffed and then started walking towards the stairs.
"I didn't steal them, it was just a loan," Draco called out to her retreating back.
The two wizards walked along the corridor, their faces shining by the light of the sconces.
"So tell me, Granger and Weasley are a couple yet?" Draco drawled.
"Nope, a stolen kiss now and then, but they mostly fidget around each other," Harry said, nudging up the rim of his glasses with his index finger.
"We need to get Granger off our backs," Draco muttered, his knuckles white around the straps of his schoolbag. "I'll set her up with Blaise."
"Zabini?" Harry scoffed as he stepped onto the moving stairs. "Are you barmy, Draco? Hermione would never agree to that."
"I can get them together if I set my mind to it. Do you want to place a bet?" Draco glanced at a portrait of a prancing unicorn which was chased by a knight, taking it as a favorable omen for his matchmaking plans.
"You're on!" Harry glanced at his watch. "Have to hurry up! I'm late for class."
"Whatever." Draco lazily waved his wand, and a sheaf of parchments flew from his schoolbag towards Harry's hand. "Those are the Runes notes you needed."
"Thanks, Draco. See you later." Harry waved the parchments at his friend as he stepped off the stairs and then dashed towards the end of the corridor.
oOoOo
Draco sighed as he made his way out of the Potions classroom, Blaise and Pansy by his side. The mood of the three Slytherins was subdued, since Horace Slughorn's beaming countenance as he demonstrated the effects of the potion they had been working on reminded them painfully of the absence of their former teacher, Severus Snape.
"So who did you get as partner in the owl gift exchange?" Draco drawled.
"I got Justin Finch-Fletchley," Pansy growled, clutching tightly the straps of her schoolbag.
"I take it you aren't pleased, my dear." Blaise arched his eyebrows at her.
"I didn't want a Hufflepuff," Pansy said angrily. "Even a Gryffindor would have been better!"
"Could be worse. At least you didn't get Smith," Draco said consolingly as he stepped onto the stairs.
"Thank Merlin for that," Pansy huffed, turning her head to glance at Blaise. "And who did you get?"
"Potter's friend, Weasley." Blaise brushed his fingers through his short-cropped hair. "What do I get him? I've only met him at wandpoint."
"I could help you with that," Draco said craftily, stepping onto the flagstone floor of the Entrance Hall. "You could trade with Lovegood, she got Granger."
"I find that quite amenable," Blaise mused, his gaze sliding towards the bird flying above the statues of the armored knights flanking the front door. "Who did you get, Draco?"
"I haven't received an owl yet," Draco grumbled.
"You're about to find out." Blaise nudged his elbow as the owl swooped down towards them, finally landing on Draco's shoulder.
Draco gazed at the big Eagle owl, whose magnificent feathers seemed to glimmer strangely in the winter light. Pale fingers fished out an owl treat from his pocket which he gave to the angry-looking bird.
He untied the message, fingers moving nimbly to evade the owl's beak. Draco winced from the pecking he couldn't evade completely, even though he was used to the irascible Malfoy owls.
"Go to the owlery and wait for a reply, Chronus," Draco said.
As the owl flew away, Blaise wiggled his eyebrows at him. "Chronus?"
"It's the name of a Greek god that devoured his children," Draco drawled, twiddling pale fingers which were splotched with red due to the owl's pecking. "It fits him."
Finally, grey eyes stared intently at the cryptic message.
Draco Malfoy,
I'm writing this letter to reach you in these terrible times. Current troubles with Muggles have escaped the Ministry's grasp. Due to the untameable spread of information in this age, we cannot conceal our existence completely. There's only one way to solve this excruciating problem: strike at the source that will spring them forth, years hence from the moment you read this letter.
You must work together with your friends – including me – in order to thwart the development of the Cyclops company. If you fail to do this, the wizarding world will surely meet its doom.
Minister of Magic
Harry Potter, London 2018
"So, is it good news?" Pansy smirked at him.
"It's both good and bad news." Draco shrugged, walking towards the marble stairs that would take him to the First Floor. "Good news is that my partner is Harry, the bad news is that he's trying to pull a prank on me. Those Weasley twins must have rubbed off on him."
Pansy and Blaise exchanged a meaningful glance as Draco dashed up the stairs, mumbling under his breath. "Really, Harry, Minister of Magic? Just wait until I craft a reply."
