Kpotter0907: Thanks for following!


CHAPTER 12

Rumor has it that Harry and his friends are holding some sort of meeting in the Hog's Head during our weekend at Hogsmeade, so when that time comes, I am only partially saddened that Draco will not be going to the village. Sure, I would have enjoyed wandering around Hogsmeade with him, visiting all of the shops in there and letting him show me around like we had discussed, but I also want to see what Harry has planned. So that is where I plan to go.

"And you're sure you can't go?" I ask Draco as he walks me to the entrance of Hogwarts.

"I wish I could," he says quietly, "but there are some things I need to do. I promise I'll be here when you get back." Draco grins at me and pulls me into a quick hug before I turn and leave Hogwarts to go to the village.

I merge into a large group of other Hogwarts students who are going to Hogsmeade, yet I am fiercely alone. And while that shouldn't bother me considering how desperate I am for alone time, I don't like this feeling. Being alone is one thing, but feeling lonely is completely different. Hogwarts has been my refuge for nearly a month and a half now, and most of that time has been spent with people around me.

Slowly but surely I am getting used to having people. I mean, I don't want them around all the time, but I don't mind them being around me as often. Like Draco for instance, who somehow manages to make me feel like I belong here at Hogwarts—I enjoy spending time with him.

I find myself trying to look as ordinary possible as I walk behind the Weasley twins, who both carry bags with the name "Zonko's" written on them.

Draco fills my mind once more. It's obvious that I can't tell him what I've at Hogsmeade today if I go to the Hog's Head. But I don't like lying to him, and it's not getting any easier to do that. However, I guess some things can't be changed. I'll have no choice but to lie to him…again. He doesn't know my true past, and I lie to him about it every time it comes up. This is getting more and more difficult to deal with. I care for Draco, and he cares for me. And it kills me that half—more than half, actually—of what he knows about me is a lie.

"We remember you," a voice says to me, causing me to jump. I was too distracted by my thoughts of Draco to realize that Fred and George have slowed and are now walking on either side of me. "We haven't spoken to you in a while, but we remember you."

"Which one are you again?" I ask the boy who is speaking to me.

"That hurts a bit," he says. "I'm Fred. That's George."

"Why were you following us?" George asks.

"Yeah, why would a Slytherin care where two Gryffindors are going?" Fred interjects.

"After all, you're still dating Malfoy, right?" This comes from George.

"You wouldn't be spying on us for him, would you?" Fred asks.

They're more annoying than I remember. "I was going to the Hog's Head. Is it my fault if you were going there too? Trust me, following the two of you is not at the top of my to-do list," I answer.

"The Hog's Head?" Fred asks. "That place is a bit dodgy for someone like yourself to go alone, isn't it?" I almost believe he is being sincere. That is, until his brother begins speaking.

"I think you're right, Freddie," George answers for me. Then he looks at me, "Charlotte—that is you name, right? Charlotte something?—why don't you go to the Three Broomsticks? That place is much safer."

"First, I'm not technically alone now, am I? I mean, if the two of you are going, and you obviously are, then I'm not really alone, even if I'm not going with you. You'll be there, so I'm not really alone," I answer. "Besides, Harry, Ron, and Hermione aren't meeting at a well-travelled place such as the Three Broomsticks, are they? They wouldn't want Umbridge to find out about their little plan."

"How do you know about that?" Fred asks abruptly.

I roll my eyes. "Hogwarts isn't exactly a place that keeps secrets that well, is it?"

"But why would a Slytherin want to go against Umbridge? Wasn't she a Slytherin as well?" George says.

"Yes, but not everyone is as loyal to the House as they should be. They're just Houses at school, really. I don't understand why it's such a big deal." At that moment, we reach the doors to the Hog's Head, a pub which is already full of Hogwarts students.

"You sure you're a Slytherin?" Fred asks. I enter the Hog's Head without answering.

Hermione begins speaking. "Er... Well—er—hi."

"Well…erm…well, you know why you're here. Erm…well, Harry here had the idea—mean—I had the idea—that it might be good if people who want to study Defense Against the Dark Arts—and I mean, really study, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us"—her voice becomes stronger—"because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts." One of the Ravenclaws—I think he's Ravenclaw?—shouts out an encouragement, and Hermione becomes braver. "Well, I thought it we be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" someone asks.

I'm not sure Harry a hundred percent behind this. He looks rather queasy.

"Of course I do," Hermione answers. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because…because," she takes a deep breath, "because Lord Voldemort's back." Some of the people shriek or make other involuntary movements, some spilling their drinks on themselves, some yelping, some shuddering.

"Well…that's the plan anyway," Hermione says. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof that You-Know-Who's back?" a blond-headed boy asks.

Hermione tries reasoning, "Well, Dumbledore believes it—"

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," the boy cuts her off, pointing at Harry.

I can see how most of the people could have doubts. I mean, nobody wants to accept the fact that Voldemort is back, but if they come to something like this, they should at least believe the back-story to all of it. If they don't, what is the point of coming? I need the doubters to leave. I need to learn more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, just in case the Death Eaters come for me again and I don't have the chance to distract them and run as I usually try to do. This subject should have been more important to me during my time on the run, but…it made things too real if I practiced it.

Now I regret that decision.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" I hear Harry ask them, which brings me back to the present. "I saw him." I stop listening there. He's seen Voldemort. I can't help but wonder what he looks like. For some reason, I can picture him having long, greasy hair and black eyes. But I realize that I probably only think he looks like that because Snape does, and I hate Snape and therefore want to compare the two of them.

I've missed an important part of the conversation, because I hear Harry say, "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out." Nobody moves.

"So," Hermione says. "So…like I was saying…if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to—"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?"

"Yeah," Harry answers. I lean a little closer.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

I suddenly find myself jealous of the Boy Who Lived. How did he learn to do that?

Everyone starts asking about what he's done, from killing a basilisk to saving the Sorcerer's Stone (whatever that is) to completing the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry tries to explain to them that he had help, but no one really wants to hear it. I don't understand why he's being modest, but I can understand him trying to get the limelight off himself. It can't be comfortable.

"…are we agreed to take lessons from Harry?" Hermione asks.

Inputs come from all over the room about how the lessons cannot interfere with this or that. Hermione agrees to come up with a time that works for everyone. The group of students goes on to speculate why Umbridge doesn't want them to know Defense Against the Dark Arts, something about Dumbledore laying siege on the Ministry. After a few more minutes of discussion, Hermione pulls a piece of parchment from her bag and tells everyone to sign up. I readily agree and sign my name when it comes to me. The group breaks apart.

I hang around outside the Hog's Head, waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. When they step out, I immediately go to them. "Harry," I say.

"Who are you?" Ron asks me.

"She's the Slytherin I told you about," Hermione answers for me.

A wide smile spreads across the faces of Ron and Harry. "The one who Stunned Snape?" Ron asks me.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "That's me. Charlotte Rodgers."

"You hang around Malfoy, right?" Harry asks.

I feel heat rise in my cheeks. "Yes."

"Why were you in there?" Harry nods to the Hog's Head.

"I want to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts," I say. He doesn't hide his skepticism. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Really?" he asks. "Then what is?"

"I…you said that you have seen Voldemort," I begin.

"That's right," he says defensively.

I swallow. "Could…could you tell me what he looks like?" I know it sounds like an odd request, almost as if I don't believe his story, but I have to know. I have to be prepared for when I do see him. I don't know when that is, but I know it won't be too long.

"I told you in there that I won't talk about Cedric if that's what you're getting at," Harry says firmly.

"I don't want to know about what Voldemort did to Cedric!" I tell him. "I believe you: Voldemort murdered him. I didn't know Cedric. I need to know what Voldemort looks like."

"Why?" Ron asks for Harry. "How could that possibly matter?"

My eyes dart to Ron, then back to Harry. "It matters to me," I say quietly.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Charlotte," Harry answers, "but I wouldn't tell anyone about the meeting we just had if I were you. I don't think it would be in your best interest."

"Don't you understand?" I say desperately. If he knew why I wanted—no, needed—to know what Voldemort looked like, he wouldn't argue with me. "I don't care about the meeting! I'm not going to tell anyone! I want to learn the Defense Against the Dark Arts! But I need to know what Voldemort looks like!"

"I'm sorry," he continues, "but I find it hard to trust anyone who is as close to Malfoy as you are."

"Even if that person attacked Snape?" I counter.

"Especially then," Harry replies. I look to Hermione for help, but she is loyal to Harry and doesn't argue on my behalf. I can't say I blame her; she hardly knows me. "There's no way to know where your allegiances lie." With that, the three of them walk away.

That did not go as I had planned. Not only have I now got Harry and his friends questioning my motives as to why I want to learn the Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I also still have no clue as to what Voldemort looks like. It seems irrational, I know. But knowing what he looks like would make me feel better. Just knowing something about him would make me feel better.

I head back to the castle, feeling oddly let down even though part of me figured it would end up like this.


I've been in the Slytherin common room for a couple of hours, trying my hardest to work on either my homework or Conjuration but failing pathetically. I don't want to do this. As much as I love Transfiguration, there are other things that require my attention, and all I want to do is go see to it. And now would probably be my best chance. The Slytherin Quidditch team is practicing, which means Draco is not here to interrupt or stop me, and he won't be back for nearly half an hour. Without another thought to talk me out of this horrid idea, I stand and leave the common room, glancing down the corridor and debating whether or not I should proceed.

My curiosity defeats my better judgment, and I start walking through the hallway, stopping when I reach Snape's office door, my better judgment once again trying to convince me that this is a bad idea but losing once more to my curiosity. I knock on the door.

"Enter." I push the door open to find Snape brewing a potion. He turns and pauses when he sees me. "Rodgers?" He's obviously just as confused as my better judgment is…

"Professor," I reply. He watches me closely, and it takes me too long to realize he's waiting for me to say why I came to his office. In truth, I am too. I don't know why I let myself do this. "You said I could come to you if I needed something since you already know about my duty…"

"And you refused my help," Snape replies. "Why would you change your mind? I'm sure Mr. Malfoy won't be at practice much longer. You can talk to him then." He turns his back toward me and begins his potion again, silently telling me that the discussion is over.

Apparently I am not worth the time, and I blindly stampede through the corridor, accidentally smashing into Draco as he leaves the common room. "What's wrong?" he asks me after he steadies himself on his feet again. "I've been looking for you."

"Practice over already?" I ask him, ignoring his question. How long was I in Snape's office?

"Yeah, we finished early."

"How'd it go?" With much difficulty, I keep my voice upbeat and interested.

"Really well," he says excitedly. "I think we'll be able to win the Quidditch Cup this year!" He puts his arm around me. "I have a surprise for you." He leads me away from the Slytherin common room before we even go inside. "It's the real reason I was unable to go to Hogsmeade."

We enter an abandoned classroom, one which I have never before seen. But it doesn't look like a classroom at all. "I had some seventh years help me," Draco says. "One of the benefits of the last name 'Malfoy.'" I look around. It looks so familiar, torches lighting the walls, a long table in the middle of the room that seems out of place but…familiar.

"Is this…"

"A replica of the Hog's Head? Yes," he answers. "That's why the seventh years had to help me. It's a more advanced form of Transfiguration." He leads me to the lone table in the middle of the room, the only part of the room that is different from the Hog's Head except for the lack of a bartender and the other patrons. "I wanted to give you a nice surprise." He smiles at me as we take our seats. On the table sits two candles. "Do you like it?"

"It's perfect," I say. "Definitely what I need today."

Draco waves his wand, and a plate of dessert appears. "I guessed you wouldn't be overly hungry considering dinner was a few hours ago, but there's always room for dessert." With another wave of his wand, two forks appear. "It took a lot of preparation. I didn't want you to think I was avoiding you, so I figured telling you to go to Hogsmeade without me would be easier."

"This is wonderful," I tell him. This is the happiest I have been in years. He truly cares about me.

"I thought you might like it." We eat the dessert slowly, in silence. I'm in utter awe that he pulled it off without me ever giving a thought as to what he was doing.

"Thank you so much."

"This isn't all!" he laughs. "I have a present for you!"

I don't have anything for him.

"You don't have to give me anything," he replies, almost as if he can read my mind. He pulls a package out of his robes. "I write my mother often, and I've told her of you. She wants to meet you." He hands me the package. "She sent this to me so I could give it to you." She must not know exactly who I am if she's sending him things to give me. The thought makes me feel oddly happy. I hope I get to see her face when she realizes who I actually am.

I gingerly open the gift. Inside, there is a silver necklace with a beautiful emerald pendant. "It's gorgeous," I say quietly. I don't mention it, but this is the first real gift I've ever gotten. At the orphanage we would get old charity toys, but for the past five years I haven't even had that. Tears fill my eyes. "I don't know how to thank you."

"It's a Malfoy family tradition, according to my mother, to give a gift when…you know…asking someone to date you. My father did it for her, as his father did for my grandmother." Draco stands and comes toward me, motioning me to turn so he can put the necklace on me. I hand it to him and lift my hair off my shoulders, baring my neck to him. He slips the necklace on me and latches it, his fingers lingering on my skin. I stand and turn toward him. "That is, of course, if you'd actually like to be my girlfriend," he says in a low whisper as I turn back to face him.

"Of course I do." He quickly fills the gap between us, placing his lips over mine. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him, my hands running up his chest and wrap them around his neck. With one hand he swipes everything off the table on which we had just eaten, sending plates and cups and forks clattering to the cold stone floor. He lifts me into the air, sets me down on the table, and moves to stand between my legs. Our kiss deepens, and I tighten my hold on his neck.

The door creaks, but I think nothing of it until someone clears their throat. Abruptly, we stop and pull apart. Draco buries his face into my neck and swears quietly. Then he pulls away and turns toward the door, finally allowing me to see who has interrupted us. It is none other than Severus Snape. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Rodgers," he says, "come with me."

I slide down off the table. Draco reaches for my hand but stops, realizing that might not be the best idea under the current circumstances. We follow Snape to his office, where we both sullenly sit down across from Snape's desk. He pinches the bridge of his nose as if trying to find a way to start scolding us for our actions. After a few awkward glances between me and Draco and a few awkwardly silent minutes, Snape says, "Very few times in my career at Hogwarts have I ever…" He stops and glares at both of us.

"Professor," Draco begins.

"Silence!" Snape commands, cutting him off. "The headmaster has too much to deal with to worry about…these sorts of things." He folds his hands together on his desk. "Now, what do you suppose we do about this?" Draco and I both shift in our seats. Why couldn't it have been any other professor? "No suggestions? Well—"

"Professor, wait!" Draco interrupts.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Snape asks, his face full of insincere interest in what the boy has to say.

"Don't punish Charlotte. It was me…It was me. It was my fault."

"Your nobility is to be honored," Snape says, "but she is just as much to blame."

"No, Professor," Draco argues, "she isn't!"

Snape frowns. "Mr. Malfoy—"

"Draco," I cut Snape off. "Don't try to take blame for this. I am just as much at fault."

"Detention," Snape announces, "for the both of you. My office. Every night for two weeks." Draco and I stand to leave. "Wait." We turn back. "Tell no one of this. I fear that Professor Umbridge will react much differently than I." He looks right at Draco, and I have a feeling Snape just doesn't want the Slytherin Seeker to get suspended from playing Quidditch.