The next day, they were on the task of de-doxifying, meaning spraying little skinny pests with sharp claws and teeth. It seemed like a good nights' rest did both Harry and Brooke well. They forgot all about yelling at each other and went back to normal terms. Not since the morning Mrs. Weasley brought it up did anyone mention anything about Draco. Brooke preferred that it didn't become a huge deal and Harry would find out about it. Although during lunch that day, he came to their cleaning crew with some interesting news.
"I didn't know you were related to the Malfoy's," Harry grinned at Ron.
"What?" he said, horrified with a mouthful of sandwich and looked at his mom.
"Oh, they're just distant relatives," Mrs. Weasley waved away.
"How's that for irony," said Hermione.
"I'm sure Malfoy'd have a ball with that one," said Harry, grabbing a sandwich and sat next to Brooke. "You should tell him later. How is he?"
"Fine…well I haven't talked to him in a while," sighed Brooke, avoiding anyone's eyes.
Mrs. Weasley, however, put her hand on her back. "I hope you do understand our intentions."
"I know," Brooke said expressionless.
"For everyone's safety," she went on.
Brooke nodded, staring at her unbitten sandwich for a few seconds before putting it back on her napkin.
"Excuse me," she mumbled and walked up the stairs as fast as she could without running.
"What just happened?" Harry asked quietly to Hermione, watching Brooke disappear into the hallway.
"Brooke's been having it a little rougher here," she whispered back, "with Draco's father being Death Eater and all."
He saw Mrs. Weasley make her way up, but stopped her. "If you don't mind, I think I should go talk to her instead."
She gestured him to go up, her lips still pursed together.
Normally, Brooke would have ran back to her room, out to the lake or out to the courtyard somewhere, but here, she felt trapped. Nothing here felt really hers, but more of an abandoned hotel. The only place she could really go was to the bedroom and not even that felt private.
The past few days she tried to ditch the thoughts and just accept her own decision. Now of all times, did she realize exactly what that meant. It meant going back to how it was last year when she broke it off with Draco, but this time he wouldn't understand why. She couldn't tell him the truth either way. Harry was probably running down the list of all the things he's had to face that were easily one hundred times worse than this.
A creak sounded behind her and her stomach sank, not wanting to talk to anyone and sorry she ever made such a fuss. She turned around from the window and saw Harry there.
"How are you?" He sat in front of her on the window sill.
She shrugged. "Oh, you must think I'm being so selfish right now, aren't you?"
"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "Brooke, you're being held captive in this dreary place for everyone but yourself."
Brooke shook her head, smiling and remembering why Harry was such an amazing friend. "I'm sorry for making this seem like such a huge deal. I mean compared to all the things you've been through and all the things you're going to have to do, it seems like nothing."
"I didn't mean those things last night," said Harry. "I guess being stuck at the Dursley's sort of messes with my head a bit."
"Don't worry about it. We both have that short fuse," she laughed.
"Anyway, it's nice to hear someone else's problems for once. I wouldn't know if it's a huge deal or not though. That's one thing I haven't had to deal with yet."
"Which is?"
"Liking someone as much as you like Malfoy," he grinned.
She smiled at the thought. Not so much of her doing something Harry hasn't, but the thought that she really did like Draco. It all didn't matter now, though. "And to think, all this happens right when I'm falling in love with him."
"Yeah…wait, wait, go back," said Harry, his eyebrows shot up.
"What?" she mumbled, confused. Then it dawned upon her what she just said and she clutched at her mouth, eyes wide.
"You're in love with Malfoy!" he beamed, mouth open.
"Mm!" she muffled behind her hand. "I said that didn't I?" she gaped.
"Oh my god," he enunciated every syllable.
"Oh my god," she echoed, groaning.
A few days later, Harry came through the door from the Ministry with exciting news that broke out into a mini celebration for his coming back to Hogwarts. She gave him a huge hug, glad he got out of the horrible Ministry of Magic in one piece. They agreed to not mention what Brooke said the other day, or it would make a much more complicated decision.
Later that day, Mrs. Weasley pulled her aside. "Would you like to come with me to Diagon Alley day after tomorrow?"
"Mrs. Weasley, I would love to, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to take the risk of running into anyone just yet."
"I insist you come," she smiled. "I've been thinking it over and with the help of Harry's persuasion, I think you should come."
"I don't understand," Brooke tilted her head.
"There's not a lot of love in this world at the moment," she said. "We'll need as much of it as possible."
"But I'll be putting everyone in danger," Brooke said, numbing the hope rising in her stomach.
"I'm afraid we're all are already in danger," Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly. "You're just going to have to be very very careful."
"What you're saying is…" she said tentatively.
"We'll leave at eleven," Mrs. Weasley tapped her chin affectionately. "And look nice. You never know who we might run into."
A dreaded feeling had enveloped her over the past weeks, but now she looked forward to school. Although everything was chaotic and stressful every minute being in the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix, a constant reminder that Voldemort was out killing and recruiting people, well, it seemed like maybe they could make it through.
"Here you go," Hermione dropped a letter next to her from Hogwarts. In it was a list of books and supplies and a general message re-welcoming them back to another term.
Hermione suddenly gasped, holding a letter in one hand and clutching something else in the other.
"What's up?" Brooke asked, putting down her pencil.
"I'm a prefect!" Hermione held up a shiny golden and maroon badge with a 'P' on the front.
"Congrats! Now you have some power in your hands!"
"Oh, I wish they allowed four prefects, then all of us could do it."
"Right. No, I don't think I'd make a wonderful prefect," said Brooke, feeling only slightly envious of the small palm sized badge. It was true, however. Being a prefect never entered her mind. Although she wouldn't mind tutoring some students in Transfiguration or even help train any young Animagus.
They ran over to Harry and Ron's bedroom the next second.
"I knew it!" exclaimed Hermione, seeing the same badge in Harry's hand. "Me too, Harry, me too!"
"No," he said quickly, handing back the badge to Ron. "It's Ron's, not mine."
"Who would make you a prefect?" laughed Brooke.
"Hey, I didn't ask for it," he put lazily tossed it onto the bed.
"No, no, Ron. This is a good thing!" beamed Hermione, who grabbed it and handed it back to him.
"Yeah, tell that to Fred and George. They're gonna go beserk-"
Right on cue, they popped right into the room, not frightening anyone anymore. Hermione's shoulders jumped up every time, but her facial expression never changed as she kept doing whatever it was.
"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred casually.
"Dunno. Maybe you should ask Ron, the prefect," Harry grinned.
Fred's mouth fell open.
"No way," said George in a hushed voice.
"We thought you were a cert!" Fred turned to Harry.
"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you, especially winning the Triwizard and everything!" George said indignantly, eyes still glued to the badge on the bed.
"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him," said Fred to George.
"Yeah," George said slowly, "Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their priorities right." He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the back while giving Ron a scathing look.
Their reactions were complete opposite of Mrs. Weasley's when she stepped into the room and Fred spat out the good news. She was so happy, she even agreed to buy Ron a new broomstick, to which Fred and George rolled their eyes at. Soon, they all bustled out of the room, leaving Harry, Hermione and Brooke.
"Harry?" said Hermione cautiously.
"Hey, congrats!" Harry replied in an odd voice. "Prefect. That's great!"
"Yeah," smiled Hermione. "Do you- do you think I borrow Hedwig? I mean, mum and dad'll be really proud and being prefect is something they actually understand."
"Sure, no problem. Take her!"
Hermione soon walked out of the room and Harry made his way over to the trunk, to fold clothes, in what Brooke saw was a rather messy way. She sat down on Ron's bed, silent.
"Are you done packing yet?" asked Harry finally after five minutes.
"Oh, no of course not. It's still morning, I have the rest of the day."
"Aren't you going to Diagon Alley?"
"Yeah, I know, but that still leaves me a couple hours," replied Brooke, uninterestedly looking around the room. Then she made up her mind to ask. "Are you good with the whole prefect thing?"
"Yeah, it's great that they're prefects!" said Harry, again in such an odd tone, folding the same shirt twice.
She threw him an Oh-Please expression, but he kept pushing it.
"Why would you even ask that? I'm completely happy for them."
"Harry," she said.
He stopped folding the shirt, looked at her stubborn expression and sighed. "Is it stupid of me to have expected the prefects badge for myself?"
"No, it's not," she shook her head. "To be honest, I thought you and Hermione would get the badges. Turns out I was half right."
"It's just-" he paused. "I mean, I don't want to say that Ron doesn't deserve it or that I deserve it more…I only thought…"
"Yeah, I get it," she saved him the stress of putting it into words.
"It helps that you didn't get it either though," he laughed.
"Thanks for your sympathies," she said dryly. "I don't mind not having the badge, though. I have no temper for small children."
"You'd probably scare the wits out of them if you turned into a tiger."
"Good idea," Brooke laughed. "Maybe I could get Ron into letting me chase the rude ones down the halls a few times."
The idea of delegating prefects had never phased Brooke. It only seemed like less time with friends and more time with terrified and silent children.