So far:

Draco, thanks to Po– Harriet, has learnt of a marvellous writing implement Muggles use, namely pens. (Or in his words, a short slender wand which spews ink!) But they aren't friends – they're allies, and anyone who says otherwise will meet the meaty fists of Crabbe, Goyle, or both. That's the price for slander.

Also, what's with this Muggle book Harriet's got him?


NOTEWORTHY BOREDOM


CHAPTER 7

MIDNIGHT MEETINGS


When Draco reached the Astronomy Tower a little past midnight, he found the bloody Gryffindor Princess sitting on the parapet wall, her back towards him. Only a reckless Gryffindor would even choose such a place to sit.

The slight stiffening of her shoulders indicated that she knew he was there.

"Ah, Ms. Potter. I see you're out of bed. Being the rule-abiding Prefect that I am, I should be removing house points," he said, in a way of greeting.

He didn't expect the dazzling grin that she threw at him when she whipped her head around.

"You're five minutes late, Draco. I don't understand why you chose to stand next to the statue of Druid Getafix for ten whole minutes for apparently no good reason."

Draco narrowed his eyes at that. How did she know that he had dallied around for a while, so that he would be acceptably late to their meeting? Was she tracking him?

"And suppose I did do that, how would you know?"

"I have eyes and ears all over the castle. Remember that, Draco," she said, flipping her hair back. She proceeded to spin around in an alarming fashion, throwing her legs precariously over the wall, before hopping off the parapet and coming to stand in front of him.

"If I were to hex you now, what would you do?" he asked, wanting to gauge her reaction to the unexpected question.

Unfortunately, her answer was prompt.

"I'd hex you back," she said, without even pausing for a second. No wonder she was in Gryffindor.

But then, even a Hufflepuff wouldn't take being hexed lying down.

"So, why did you want to meet here?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. As if her full lips were not enticing enough in the moonlight, she had to draw his attention to her chest as well!

Draco cleared his throat in an attempt to collect his thoughts. He was here on a mission to ensure his future was safe. Now that The Dark Lord would most likely be staying at the Manor, he had to play it safe on both sides. Mother's letters at hinted at it, though as usual, nothing was ever said explicitly.

And Draco had to do this, just in case the Manor's snake-like houseguest lost to the girl currently standing in front of him.

"Remember how I suggested that we get into an alliance where we trade favours without keeping track?"

Harriet interrupted him, "Which is a fancy and roundabout way of saying 'friends' because you Slytherins don't have friends; only enemies and nemeses."

He rolled his eyes, a habit he had learnt from her, before continuing, "I just wanted to make it official, by giving you a gift. It's a token of trust."

"Does that mean I have to give you something too?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. Some short strands that hadn't made it into her braid fell on her face. Draco quashed the urge to push them off her eyes. And the green of her eyes... It was almost as if everything about her was meant to distract him.

"Uh, Draco?" she asked, her eyes wide, and Draco cursed himself for getting so distracted.

"Yes, you need to get me something too. Something that will easily remind me of our alliance."

"And the book I got you doesn't count?" she asked, scrunching her eyes, slightly sheepishly.

"It has to be at least a little special," he said, trying not to sneer.

She tossed her head back and looked at him disdainfully. "Show me what you've got for me, then."

Draco dug into the front pocket of his robe, and took out the small velvet box. He tossed it to her, and she caught it effortlessly, from years of Quidditch practice. Merlin, how she looked on a broom. No one would ever look as graceful as her in the air, loathe as he was to admit it.

Harriet made flying look sexy. Her effortless grace, the way her robes whipped out behind her... Holy Merlin, no wonder he'd never caught the Snitch in a match against her - he'd been too busy watching her fly.

He watched her face as she opened the box gingerly. Her mouth fell open when she saw what was inside.

"These look bloody expensive!"

"They probably are, but I received it for free."

"Is it a family heirloom? Merlin, I can't accept it. I won't-"

Draco interrupted her in a low voice, "Not taking it means there's no alliance. It's a direct rejection. And you've rejected me once before, remember?"

She swallowed loudly, before looking him in the eye.

"No one's ever given me something this precious. Thank you."

He nodded, before saying, "Wear that in DADA class from now on. It'll hopefully cut down your detentions."

"What? How?" she asked, a look of disbelief on her face. It was then that it struck him that Harriet Potter had been brought up like a Muggle; she didn't know why these earrings were used.

"Usually Pureblood children are given pieces of jewellery which have runes inscribed on them. These runes warn the child when he or she is about to speak impertinently or rudely, thereby preventing the heir or the heiress from saying something undignified. It also teaches children to identify and learn what type of responses are considered impertinent, and what are not. For girls, it is usually inscribed earrings."

Draco liked how her eyes had grown wider with every word he uttered.

"How will it warn me?"

"Why don't you try it out on... Monday? That's when you Gryffindorks have DADA, right?"

"Hey!" she cried, probably to protest against his pet name for her house, but he cut her off.

"I don't want to see you in anymore detentions with that witch. You're only digging a bigger grave for yourself."

Harriet scowled and stuck her tongue out at him.

It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss her pouting mouth. Draco felt his nails dig into the flesh of his palms, as he tried not to do what he wanted to do.

"Could we sit down? My legs hurt."

"But not on the wall," he warned. He wasn't reckless enough to randomly endanger his life. He wasn't suicidal in the least.

"Fine," she huffed, before flopping onto the floor ungracefully.

When Draco looked at her incredulously, she smirked at him and said, "What, don't want to get your pretty boy clothes dirty?"

Before he could reply, she'd taken his hand and pulled him down.


OoOoO


"So... Did you get a chance to flip through that book I got you?"

"It's a Muggle book, that's all I know," came his sharp response.

Harriet sighed, before launching off into a monologue about Martin Luther King Jr.

"Once upon a time, not-so-long-ago, in the United States of America, the fair-skinned Muggles, dubbed as the whites, looked down upon the dark-skinned Muggles. They were called negroes and blacks and other derogatory terms, which they did not deserve or merit. They were considered second class citizens, and did not have the same rights as the whites.

"They weren't allowed to travel in the same buses as the whites; they were not allowed to work the same jobs. They weren't even allowed to use the same lavatories. They had separate hospitals. And in court cases, a black witness' statement held no power. Blacks were only allowed to work as the servants of the whites. A while before that, these same blacks had been slaves and indentured labourers, that is, they were unpaid, bonded labourers.

"And then a man named Martin Luther King Jr. decided that he'd had enough of the inequality and discrimination. He stood up against the discriminatory society, and motivated a large group of people to stand up for their equal rights. And the book I gave you is his autobiography."

She took in the disgust etched on his face, surprised.

"Mal- Draco?"

"You mean my mate, Blaise, wouldn't have had the same opportunities as me?" he asked, his face paler than usual in the moonlight.

"Blasie Zabini?" she asked.

He nodded his head, looking at her warily.

"Yes."

His eyes widened, before he bit out harshly, "I knew it! I knew these Muggles were barbaric enough to judge others based on skin colour! Blaise can't help that he was born with darker skin! Muggles are such uncouth creatures."

Harriet decided to deliver the final blow.

"Isn't that what you're doing right now? Discriminating against Mudbloods just because of whom they were born to? They're as magical as you, a Pureblood, or me, a Halfblood. And yet, you and your Slytherin housemates put them down just the way the whites put down the blacks."

He stared at her, turmoil and conflict clear in his silver eyes, before he said tonelessly, "You are evil."

She gave him a grim smile, seeing how the conflict hadn't died in his eyes, before replying, "I think Snape will agree with you on that."


OoOoO


Draco leaned back on his chair, dropping the autobiography he had been reading onto his study table. It was three in the morning, but what Harriet had told him had intrigued him. He was morbidly curious to find out about this strange practice that the Muggles had participated in.

He felt sick. Were the Purebloods no better than the barbaric Muggles when they segregated the Mudbloods? But what about the Pureblood theory that Mudbloods stole their magick from potential wizards and witches, which is why there were squibs in society? It was so confusing, and Draco couldn't help but feel that Harriet was wrong. After all, a belief that had been driven into him since he was in nappies, one of the fundamental principles of his life, couldn't be wrong, could it?

He needed to distract himself. So he closed his eyes and instead reflected on what had happened after the Gryffindor had told him about the book. Shortly after that, he had walked her to their usual point of separation, where they had almost been caught by Mrs. Norris. They hadn't had a chance to wish each other goodnight properly, but that was all right because they'd already decided to meet up tomorrow, on Sunday.

He'd wanted her to teach him how to cast spells nonverbally, and she'd wanted him to teach her a few more healing spells. She'd suggested that they meet in Binns' classroom, to avoid being found out by anyone else.

It amused him to know that she was as conscious about her social image as he was about his. And he knew that it was important to maintain appearances, after all, he couldn't have word getting back to his father.

Sighing absently, he stroked the pen he'd been given gently, before opening his warded drawer and placing it there.

It was with a grimace that he went to bed after turning light in the holder off. He didn't want to introspect on what he'd learnt tonight; he wanted to avoid Harriet Potter for as long as possible, and preferably forever.

And yet, he couldn't wait to get started on nonverbal spells.


OoOoO


"Make this feather float," Harriet said, gesturing to the snow white down feather she'd placed on the desk. She'd taken one of Hedwig's feathers, much to the owl's disapproval.

"Verbally?" he asked, the contempt clear in his voice.

Pompous brat.

"Yes, Mal - Draco, you can't just start casting nonverbal spells. You need to start from a point that you're familiar with. So will you make the feather float now?" she asked, pushing some unruly strands off her face.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he intoned clearly, and she watched as the feather soared up into the air gently.

She hopped off Binns' desk and came to stand in front of the table Draco was sitting behind.

"What was going through your mind when you said the spell?"

"Nothing," he replied, looking slightly confused.

Harry blew out a breath loudly and shrugged her robes off, dropping them onto a nearby desk. Despite it being the last week of September, it was terribly hot.

"Are you positive?" she asked. "Fine, I'll frame my question in a better way. Why did you utter that particular spell?"

"To make the feather float," was his quick reply, though his eyebrows were still furrowed.

"Right, so to repeat my first question, what was going through your mind when you cast that spell?"

"To make the feather float," came his easy response, the confusion in his eyes clearing up.

"Remember when Flitwick first taught us the spell? What was it that was so important about this spell?"

"The wand movement. And the pronunciation," he answered, after thinking for a moment.

Harry was impressed. The only reason why she could remember that class particularly well was because it had been on Halloween, a few hours before Quirell had let a troll loose in the dungeons... It had also been the day she and Ron had made Hermione cry. But anyway, it looked like Draco had a good memory.

"Brilliant. So there are two things for you to remember. First and foremost, your intention, and second the pronunciation."

"But we won't be casting the spell verbally. How does pronunciation matter?" he asked, a shrewd look in his eyes.

Harry perched herself on Binns' table once again before replying, "There's a reason why pronunciation matters while learning the spell. Because the spell is in often in a different language which is not English. It's usually Latin. A speaker of Latin wouldn't pay much attention to the pronunciation, but as non-speakers, it's important for us.

"Each word or part of the spell has a meaning. For example, the spell Stupefy means exactly that. It's in English, and its meaning is to stupefy a person, that is, to stun them so much that they become immobile. Any spell can have its meaning understood by breaking it down into its root form. Paying heed to the pronunciation helps us non-speakers overcome the disadvantage of not knowing the actual meaning of the spell.

"Keeping up so far?" she paused to ask, and was glad to see Draco nod his head.

"While casting a spell nonverbally, you need to remember the why of the spell, as in what you want to see happen. And just because you're not chanting the spell out loud, it doesn't mean you're not chanting it at all."

She hopped off the desk and walked up to him.

"You're still chanting it, only up here," she said, tapping his forehead twice. Draco turned his head slightly, and she was left touching his platinum blond hair. She tried not to suck in a breath at how silky his hair was, which was a surprise, considering how gelled it looked from a distance.

"So I'm just not saying the spell?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes and no. You won't be saying it out loud, but you'll still be saying it inside your head. And since you're not vocalising the pronunciation, you should focus on the nuances of the spell, how you'd actually pronounce it, all inside your head. And while chanting it carefully inside, picture what you want to see, picture it happening. Et voila, you'll be casting a spell nonverbally!"

"Was I supposed to have taken notes?" he asked, his eyes a little wide. Harry had no idea whether he was being serious or whether he was joking.

"Here, let me show you," she said, focussing on the feather on the table between them.

'Wingardium Leviosa,' she thought, making the 'gar' and the 'o' nice and long, just as she pictured the feather floating upward.

The look of astonishment on Draco's face made her smile, and she settled down on the seat right next to him to watch him try.

The first time, he forgot to do the wand movement. The fourth time, he uttered the spell verbally. The eighth time, he did the wand movement wrong. The eleventh time, he did the wand movement perfectly, but had no result. The sixteenth time, he mouthed the spell. The eighteenth time, he moved his wand so fast it slipped out of his hand and went clattering onto the floor.

It was obvious that he was frustrated, and truth be told, so was she.

She placed her hand on Draco's clenched fist and simply held it.

"Take a break, will you? And tell me what's going in your mind," she said gently.

"I'm doing everything you told me to do!" he spat, his eyes a dull grey.

"When you're about to cast the spell, what is it you're thinking?"

"That I want the feather to rise. And I focus on the spell as well, alright? I pay attention to how I'm pronouncing it in my head. And I do the bloody swish and flick. But it just doesn't work!"

"Then you've got the basics right," she said slowly, as she focused on a crack in the wall, deep in thought.

"Tell me, do you move your tongue inside while casting it even if you don't open your mouth?" she asked suddenly, an idea having struck her.

Draco's eyes lifted upward as he thought about it.

"Yes, I do."

"See, I think when you do that, your casting gets categorised as a verbal spell with zero volume, as opposed to a nonverbal spell where the idea of volume is moot. So try it again without moving any part of your body except your hand?" she asked, retrieving his wand from the floor with a simple Accio.

This time when he tried it, the feather lifted a few inches upward, and the smile on his face rivalled the one on hers.

And then he hugged her, unexpectedly.

It wasn't like Harriet hadn't been hugged before. Hermione had hugged her. Ron had hugged her (in awkwardly). Ginny had hugged her. Molly had hugged her. The twins had hugged her (misdirection was their middle name). Sirius had hugged her. Remus had hugged her.

And yet, this hug was so different from those hugs. It was probably the sheer unexpectedness of it.

She was stiff initially, not knowing what to do, before she carefully put her hands around him and patted him awkwardly.

"You're brilliant, see?" she whispered into his ear, before resting her face on his shoulder very very carefully.

"You haven't been hugged much before, have you?" he asked in a low voice, his breath hot against her ear.

"Not really, no," she breathed, trying to relax against his chest.

"Everyone needs to be hugged every once in a while, Potter," he replied, tightening his arms around her ever so slightly, so as to reassure her and not cause her to panic.

The needle of the 'Draco balance' she pictured mentally was swerving to the left wildly. And she found that she wasn't opposed to the notion of liking him.


OoOoO


'Foie,

Despite you being a berk to us Gryffindors yesterday during Quidditch, I've made a sort of schedule for you to practice through the week.

Monday - Levitating a feather (Yup, nothing fancy.)

Tuesday - Levitating a piece of parchment (Which is slightly heavier.)

Wednesday - Levitating a goblet

Thursday - Levitating our DADA textbook

Friday - Levitating anything you want; maybe even try a Wingardium Leviosa Maxima

Saturday - Take a break, you silly Slytherin. Don't work everyday!

Now that you've learnt the basics, do you want to spend some more time with me going over it, or do you want to try out on your own?

Yours,

Jill'

Draco smiled at the piece of parchment he'd found on his pillow. It was obvious that Harriet had taken to using the house-elves as messengers like a charm.

But the process of relying on something else to pass on messages was getting a little cumbersome. He wanted a more instantaneous method of conversing, albeit one that did not draw the attention of others.

Draco rested his head on the pillow, staring at the roof of his four poster bed.

He knew he could come up with a solution. After all, in Harriet Potter's own words, he was brilliant.

(And he'd never admit it out loud, but hearing her say that had to easily be one of his most favourite memories yet.)


OoOoO


Omake #1

Draco: (sings annoyingly) Hermes is so awesome, Hermes is the best. Compared to him, Hedwig's got nothing in her nest!

Harriet: Did you know that Percy's owl is also Hermes?

Draco: Wha- Who's that? (blinks)

Harriet: Percy? Percy Weasley? Hogwarts Head Boy in 1993? Four years our senior?

Draco: (Shouting) OH MY FUCKING GOD! MY OWL HAS THE SAME NAME AS A WEASEL'S OWL? THIS CAN'T BE ALLOWED -

Harriet: Jesus, calm down, Malfoy.

Draco: - I REFUSE TO ALLOW IT. FROM NOW ON, MY OWL, MY BEAUTIFUL EAGLE OWL, SHALL BE CALLED SEMREH. SEMREH, THE MAGNIFICENT!

Harriet: Sem- what?

Draco: (Tosses head haughtily) Semreh, The Magnificent.

Harriet: Spell that, would you? And what a wonky name.

Draco: (Sniffs condescendingly) It's Hermes spelt backward. I guess people with single digit IQs can't appreciate it.

Harriet: I have low IQ? Well, you have low EQ. You're lame enough to change your owl's name. What are you going to do about Hermes' footwear now? Make it out of D-L-O-G?

Draco: That's not a half bad idea. You're improving, Potthead. And FYI, it's Semreh, The Magnificent.

Harriet: There's no reverse for gold, Malfoy. I was kidding... Unless you plan to change gold to lead, kinda the opposite of alchemy?

Draco: Psssht, please. Lead? Are you serious? It'll be platinum, not some cheap element found on the roadside. And don't you forget, Mafloys never downgrade. They only upgrade. (Sneers)

Harriet: (Bangs head onto the desk) Sod off, Malfoy.

.

~ inspired by a review by the lovely Theodora Snowbird; thanks Dez; i'm lucky to have a friend like you ~


OoOoO


End Note:

On the Astronomy Tower, Draco didn't genuinely want to kiss Harriet – there's something else at play here. (and kids, this is called shoddy foreshadowing)


AN:

Long time, no see, eh? o.O I'm back for good now. I've missed writing, period.

News!

One:

I created a Tumblr page for this story: noteworthyboredom . tumblr . com

(No spaces; I tried to keep the URL as simple as possible.)

I've posted a picture of the earrings Draco gave Harriet there. :* Also, if you want drabbles set in this AU, or other character POVs you want me to explore, or simply look at picture collections I plan to make for every chapter, just ask me there – I've enabled anonymous asks as well :) As of now, I've made a picture summary only for this chapter.

Guest review responses will be posted there. :)

Two:

I've decided to focus on just one story for the next 3 months primarily, and go for extremely regular updates. I can't decide which story, though, so it's up to you, okay? Please go vote on my profile page, I'd be indebted to you.

Three:

200 reviews means another omake, and if you give me a silly prompt, I'll write something equally silly. ;)

Most importantly:

Thank you for sticking around, thank you for reading, and thank you for reviewing the way you do. I wouldn't be here if not for you.