a/n:
Not much to report except for another update for you guys!
As always, thanks for all you do: reading, following, favouriting (and now reviewing! Props to you, Guest. You're awesome! =D)
My original disclaimer eternally stands: anything recognizable is J. K. Rowling's.
~ Anna
"Good evening, you two," said Dumbledore as we marched wordlessly into his office. I was still lit up with anger; even the splendor in Fawkes, his famously loyal phoenix, couldn't keep it at bay. "Are you alright, Heidi?"
"Yes, Professor," I said as I lowered myself onto a puffy red chair across from his desk.
"You too may sit, Mister Malfoy."
I was all too aware that he had sat himself beside me, the gleam of his platinum hair apparent in the fringes of my vision.
"I don't doubt that you two have fretted over my reasons for asking you here. Rest assured that nothing bad has happened, and that your loved ones are quite safe, wherever they may currently be." Dumbledore gave Malfoy a particularly long look, and I realized he meant this comment specifically for him.
He grunted dismissively in response. I scowled at the disrespect.
"You two have known each other for a long time, yes?" said Dumbledore.
"Practically since birth," I interjected, before Malfoy could say anything snarky about knowing me for longer than he'd have liked to.
"Ah. I have heard something to that extent – that your families are very close. You two must understand each other well, having shared so many milestones."
Malfoy crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "You would think so, Professor, but it takes Zabini an exceptional amount of effort to understand anything," he said.
I huffed, forever falling for the bait. "That's because everything you do is beyond understanding, Malfoy! You-"
Dumbledore held up his hand and I realized I was getting a little too into familiar routines. I blushed and mumbled an apology at him.
"It is not whether you two are fond of each other, Heidi; it's whether you two complement each other."
"Oh, easy: no. He does not compliment me, sir. Actually, he mostly insults me. If I'm really lucky, he ignores me. But definitely no compliments."
Malfoy wisely abstained from giving his opinion, and instead sat, looking very tired and very bored.
"You aspire to be Healers, correct?" asked Dumbledore. We nodded in unison. "Healing is a very good choice for you; you are both strong students. In fact, by the looks of your school records, you're evenly matched in nearly every subject."
Malfoy allowed his eyebrows to creep up in surprise. Dumbledore smiled at him.
"Yes, Draco, I'm afraid it is so," he said before continuing. "And how have the partners I assigned you been in this respect? Would you say they have been evenly matched to you?"
I hesitated, trying to find a way to tell a gentler version of the truth - but before I could think of one, Malfoy simply and confidently blurted 'no'.
Dumbledore took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking heavy with remorse. "This too has been brought to my attention. I hope you will forgive me for my hypocrisy. While preaching change to my students as a group, I chose to stick to old and tired habits when it came to you two. Admittedly, I am an old and tired habit myself, but that does you no favours. However, my slight will be remedied tonight. Upon Miss Parkinson's sudden departure from the program, and Miss Bones' transfer into Creature Care, the opportunity is now there to combine two talented individuals. What say you?"
Malfoy's mouth twitched into a deeper frown. "I'm not sure I understand. What is it that you want from us? If you're thinking of a partnership, the answer is a definite no."
"I understand your reluctance, Draco, but this seems to be your only option for now. I cannot have students working alone," said Dumbledore.
"Then get me Blaise!" he demanded. I was still silent, absorbing but barely understanding what Dumbledore was trying to achieve.
"Blaise is with Padma Patil, as I'm sure you know."
"Then get me somebody else! I'd sooner work with the Mud-"
"Don't you dare!" I snarled, having finally found my voice.
"I must agree with Heidi here, and implore you not to use such degrading words in my office."
Malfoy curled his lip and settled further into his chintz armchair.
Dumbledore turned his attention to me. "And you, Heidi? What are your thoughts?"
"My thoughts are …" Scattered. "Maybe this can be temporary?" I suggested hopefully. "People are switching a lot between programs, so maybe someone else will join and we can split up."
Dumbledore considered this for a moment, and nodded. "It is possible. I will certainly keep it in mind as an option. But for now, it is best for you two to seek some common ground. Professor Snape, it seems, is not so fond of dueling next to his Potions storeroom this year. Something about irreplaceable ingredients getting destroyed …" He cast us a knowing smile from above his spectacles and I blushed as I recalled the damage done.
"Are we done, then?" said Malfoy. His previous outrage had turned into bored indifference.
"Yes, Draco, you may leave," said Dumbledore.
By the time I had gained enough composure to go down to the Dungeons, Malfoy was long gone.
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The next morning, I walked into McGonagall's class with such trepidation that she thought someone had jinxed me to walk in slow motion. Once I saw Malfoy wasn't there, however, I sprinted to a desk and launched myself into the seat to everyone's surprise. It wasn't until she finished explaining the merits of digit transfiguration that I realized I was utterly screwed.
"Each partner must hold very still as the other attempts this, or you risk losing more than a finger. You will be evaluated on your skills next week." Her eyes travelled to me, alone in my aloneness. She frowned and glanced at the clock, which showed that Malfoy was twenty minutes late and counting.
"Mister Zabini, are you aware of your fellow Slytherin's whereabouts?"
My brother shook his head.
"Did anybody see him at breakfast this morning?"
The class in its entirety shook theirs.
Her thin frown curved downwards still. "I see. Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask another group to take you on for today's lesson, Heidi. Terry and Anthony, what about you? You seem to have the spell perfected." She didn't leave the amusement out of her tone as she looked at the pair.
Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein hastily hid their wands and pretended not to have been practicing the spell ad nauseam as she taught.
I couldn't tell if I was impressed with or afraid of their desperation for scholarly perfection. At any rate, I was comparatively more afraid of having Malfoy cast spells on my 'digits', so I walked confidently to the seat next to Anthony's and settled in.
"Heidi," he said with a curt nod, adjusting his collar the way I'd only ever seen seriously adult adults do.
"Hey, Anthony. Terry." I nodded just as curtly at both of them.
Terry pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened up importantly. "I prefer Terrence, actually."
I tried not to wrinkle my nose. "Really? But in the D.A. meetings you said-"
He broke into a smile. "Of course not. I'm just messing with this guy," he said, pointing to Anthony. "He's been all business since the first day he got here and it's driving me insane. He's been studying for classes in advance all summer, and roping me into practicing spells with him since we got on the Express."
"Wait, you studied for class in advance?" I exclaimed.
"Of course! Sixth year is the time to get ready for Seventh year, which then determines where you'll be for the rest of your life. Frankly, Heidi, if you haven't revised this summer, it may already be too - oof! Terry, mind your elbow!"
"What my conversationally inept friend meant to say is that you have no need to worry about that kind of thing, Heidi, because you're incredibly smart as it is."
"Well now I know you've never actually listened to her speak," drawled the Ghost of Ferrets Past from behind me. I turned and looked him up and down.
"I thought they reported you missing," I said plainly.
Malfoy scowled and pushed past my chair to sit in Blaise's row.
"I'm afraid not, Mister Malfoy," said McGonagall of his effort to get rid of me. His scowl turned more profound as he made his way back to our table.
"There's no chair for me."
I turned to the two Ravenclaws. "Would you two happen to have an extra throne for Prince Ferret? No? Okay then." My self-satisfaction was cut off by the sound of chair legs crashing beside me.
"Alright, Freak, let's get this over with. Give me your hand."
"What?" I spluttered. "Are you mad? Malfoy, let go of-" But he had already snatched my hand and pulled it onto his lap. "Malfoy, listen to me, you don't know the spell! Malfoy, listen to -"
"Shut up, Zabini, you're boring me. Digitus Verto!"
I looked on in intrigued disgust as my left thumb shrank into nothingness. "Malfoy!" I squeaked, once I'd found my ability to vocalize. "Malfoy, my thumb!"
"What about it?" he asked nonchalantly.
"It's completely gone!"
"I'm sure it's just on vacation, Zabini," Malfoy said with a satisfied smirk. Terry and Anthony stared at him, but he ignored them as he always had. "Besides, what do you need opposable thumbs for? It gives people the wrong idea about you. You know, that you're better than a monkey."
"Many monkeys have thumbs, Malfoy," snapped Anthony.
Malfoy gave him a murderous look. "How about minding your own business? Don't think I even bothered learning your name, come to think of it."
"It's Anthony!" I snarled.
Malfoy leaned back and closed his eyes, looking ready to nap. "Fascinating information. Truly."
I was pleased to see McGonagall approach the scene in a matter of seconds, and give him a less-than-gentle rap on the shoulder. "I hope, Draco, that you have a good explanation for your partner's missing thumb. And while you come up with that, perhaps you can formulate a reason for your tardiness."
Even the innocent had a tendency to get worried when McGonagall used that tone, but Malfoy carried on with perfect indifference.
"I was sick this morning. Ask Pomfrey," he said with a shrug.
Professor McGonagall clicked her tongue and regrew my thumb. "Hopefully your illness doesn't carry through to your final exams, Mister Malfoy, or you'll be in for big trouble."
For a split-second as her tartan cloak swished out of sight, I thought Malfoy was repressing tears. Then, he opened his mouth in a monumental yawn.
"You're such a bloody jerk," I reproached him.
He stopped mid-yawn to give me a blasé, half-lidded stare. "Want to try a finger, Zabini?"
I looked at him skeptically. "To transfigure?" I glanced at Terry and Anthony, and reminded myself that they were fully qualified D.A. members capable of keeping him from killing me. "O-okay…" I gulped and pointed my wand at his index finger.
"No, Zabini. This one." He made my favourite hand gesture and strode out of class just as the clock tower rang. I looked on in disbelief.
"Is he always such a foul git to you?" asked Terry.
"I think … I think he's actually gotten worse," I remarked, still staring at the door through which he'd disappeared without giving me so much as a second thought.
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If I had thought that the simple act of finding myself in Snape's class on a Monday morning was bad enough, then that was obviously before I had Malfoy as a partner.
"Malfoy, where are you going!" I demanded as he wove through the seemingly endless rows of tables.
"Do you need a compass or something, Freakface?" he asked, finally coming to a stop behind an empty table. He threw down his bag and sat. "This is what's called the back of a classroom," he said with a condescending smirk.
"Never mind what it's called, Ferret. I'll pay you a thousand galleons if you can actually see the blackboard from here."
"Why bother looking when I've got my own personal note-taker?" He wore a nasty grin as he said it, and it normally would have pissed me off, but my anger couldn't quite get past the grey bags under his eyes.
"You need your quill out," I mumbled for lack of anything cutting to say, leaving Malfoy looking more confused than affronted. I began jotting down the few directions I could see.
3 dashes of Bog-myrtle
14.4 grams of Philosopher's wool
One vial of Poppy seeds
From the corner of my eye, I saw Malfoy give a struggled yawn. I dropped my quill and wheeled around to face him.
"Have you been sleeping at all?" I hissed. I tried to stay quiet, in case someone caught on to my concern. But no one else was listening at all – they were all too busy scurrying around in search of extra cauldrons and scales.
He frowned at me suspiciously. "What are you on about, Zabini?"
"You keep yawning!" I accused.
"Maybe that's because you're an absolute bore."
"Then why-"
"For anybody too daft to realize, we are brewing anti-venoms today," rang Snape's eternally-dissatisfied voice. "I myself have to step out for a moment. Instructions are on the board – I suggest you follow them. If this classroom is altered in any way, shape, or form, I will personally dock fifty points from all of you."
"You heard the man," Malfoy said dismissively. "Stop meddling and get the ingredients."
He frowned at me as I stayed in my seat, staring at him.
"You've been taking Wake Draught, haven't you?" I said bluntly, eyes fixed on his jawline. I saw it clench.
Malfoy moved his chair back so fast that the floor screeched; he was clearly desperate for distance. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You have blue discoloration on your jaw," I said, pointing to the pastel blue rings above his neck. "I can see it because you're so pale."
His hand moved to cover the offending area, but it was pointless. There was no arguing. I knew all about the potion from Hermione, who would sooner mess with time itself than take Wake Draught to stay productive.
"Malfoy, you can't play around with that stuff. It can kill you. They barely have an antidote."
"Go get the ingredients, Za-"
"Are you listening to me? You could end up dy-"
"I said go get the-"
"NO!" I shouted, fed up with his complete disregard for my words of warning. There was movement all around us as our peers turned to look. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "No, um … because … because we have to get them together. As partners."
Malfoy had gone stiff under the attention. "Fine," he hissed. He made to stand up, but a strange, almost alarmed look passed over his face. He fell back into his seat. "You know, I just realized I don't take orders from blood traitors and Potty lovers. Get them yourself or don't get them at all; makes no difference to me."
I glared at him and sprang up. "Fine then, you absolute jerk!"
I marched into the potions storeroom, taking as much Bog-myrtle, Philosopher's wool and poppy seed as my heart desired. After several calming breaths, I came back to our table.
"Oh aren't you just hilarious, Malfoy," I said sarcastically as he sat with his eyes closed. "No, really, I get it: I'm so boring that I put you to sleep." I set the ingredients in front of us and began rationing them. He made no move to help – in fact, he made no moves at all. "Come on, Malfoy, it's getting old. Start helping."
Nothing. My pulse began to speed. I put my hands on his shoulders, and when even being touched by a filthy creature like me neglected to cause a stir, I knew it was time to panic.