By the end of the next day, over a half of the Hogwarts population are wearing the badges made by the Slytherins. Whilst the Slytherins themselves lavish praise on a bolstered Draco for his genius idea of playfully insulting Potter with only the word stinks, by the time Mallory has grovelled enough to the castle for it to release her foot, she had spent that time with her mind to loathe the things and immediately pushed her own badge to the very bottom of her trunk, not to be worn.
In fact, apart from Blaise, who is far too cool to be seen wearing a badge that bright, Mallory is the only Slytherin not to be seen parading the badge around school. Hufflepuffs proudly use the badges to remain ever-loyal to their Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory and it is only the Gryffindors who merely notice the badges' amusement but daren't wear one.
Mallory's defiant act against the badges does not go unnoticed by the Slytherin populus. Many younger students attempt to hand her their spares and scowl when she rejects them. Draco shouts at her publicly outside of the dungeons as she finishes Potions and he just starts. The worst, of course, had been in Potions itself, when Snape had inquired about her lack of badge.
"I notice, Miss Black, that you appear to be the only of my house who does not wear one of these badges supporting our Hogwarts champion," Snape sneers as the students wait for the full twenty minutes of brewing time for the Forgetfulness Potion. Amara cringes beside her, moving subtly so that her own Support Cedric Diggory badge is clearly on show.
"It's not my type of magic, Professor." Responds Mallory, desperately keeping her eyes upon her potion to avoid any kind of eye contact with her least favourite professor.
"What a disappointment you truly are, Miss Black." Snape mocks, "Clearly an affinity for Transfiguration has not taught you the basics of magic." He waves his wand over the Forgetfulness Potion that she had spent the majority of her afternoon focused upon. "Perhaps you should stick to trying not to stick a needle into your eye whilst turning it into a hedgehog."
The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs snigger in response as Mallory watches her own potion dissipate into nothing.
Unable to help herself, she barks:
"Professor Snape, I need to know how to brew this for my OWL!" She feels herself rise from her stool in anger, but Amara, ever the protective best friend tugs on her sleeve so that she remains seated.
"Clearly, Miss Black," Snape, who had turned back to the front of the class, marches slowly towards her and Amara, who shrinks into her seat. He looks from her now-empty cauldron to her burning red face. "It is not your type of magic."
By the end of the lesson, and with a further hour of Charms in which now her fellow Slytherins are noticing her lack of badge, Mallory is preparing an evening by herself in the dorm. Or, a night of stalking Viktor Krum with Amara in the library. From Charms, Amara and Mallory immediately make their way towards the Great Hall. This has been a natural habit of theirs, since Amara had discovered that Viktor Krum eats when the Hall is at its quietest, as students leave their lessons. The two girls link arms as they climb down the staircase, and Mallory cautiously keeps her eyes on the steps, just in case the Castle decides that it hasn't quite forgiven her.
"Mallory." Draco's name sends shivers down her neck, since it has been a while since he has said her name in such a distasteful way. "Carrow." He nods his head at Amara as they approach.
"I'll meet you in there," Amara whispers to Mallory the closer they get to Draco and his friends. Even Blaise is not with him this time.
"Coward." Mallory hisses as Amara extricates her arm from Mallory's, even as Mallory's rigid grip attempts to keep her nearby.
"Sorry," Amara whispers back, who casts a cautious smile at Mallory before walking into the Great Hall.
Many other students look curiously at the two Slytherins who are not siblings. Even Crabbe and Goyle, who had spent the past few weeks bending over backwards to make Mallory laugh or smile, fold their arms in an attempt to seem larger and menacing. It works, as Draco at the forefront practically growls when Mallory reaches them.
"Everything okay, Draco?"
"I've got to say," he begins, stepping far closer towards Mallory so that she can practically feel his rageful breath upon her face. "The past few weeks I thought it was too good to be true. Finally, you seemed to be part of the family. Now, here you are, openly defying me."
"Defying you?" Mallory repeats in a lower voice than his. "How so, Draco?"
Without a word, Draco presses a violent finger into his own chest, allowing the Slytherin-made badges to flash and whirl in a blend of gold and green as the badge flashes from support to Diggory and open mockery of Potter.
"Where is your badge?"
"I lost it." She shrugs, making all attempts to appear unbothered by the intimidating stances of the three Slytherins.
"Just when I thought you were actually making an effort." He leans impossibly closer, eyes twitching as they look between her grey eyes. His own grey eyes narrow as she squints slightly, another way to make him think she doesn't care. That she never cares for his acceptance of her.
"I'll see you at the table. Maybe once you join us," he takes a step away but his threatening demeanor continues to shock her. Is this the same boy who she was raised with? "You'll have an attitude adjustment."
Crabbe leaves last, smirking as if he had been the one to spread the fear through her. Draco's threats, however, are what create a quiver in her heart.
"That conversation looked fun."
Mallory jumps at the sound of the voice behind her. She rounds to face the source of the sound, deep down already suspecting who it had been and Fred Weasley holds up his hands in defence as he realises the mistake he's made.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." He apologises, bashfully shoving his hands into his pockets whilst cursing himself for not announcing his presence.
"No, it's alright. I'm not usually so jumpy." She explains, self-consciously twirling the ends of her curls over her fingers as she struggles to maintain eye contact with the boy. "You're alone again."
"You do realise that it's not against the law for me to be separate from my twin?" He jokes, leaning against the pillar that the two stand beside. "Don't try and throw me into Azkaban."
Behind them, pupils are focussed upon entering the Great Hall for their dinner to pay much attention to two students beside those large double doors, slightly obscured from view.
"I think if I had a twin I'd constantly be around them. Like a shadow." She tells him, smiling at the idea of having another Black twin to spend her time with. Although, she wonders, whether they would've ended up like Draco.
"I'm actually…" he searches for the words in the air, looking atop of her black curls to watch some Ravenclaws that pass them. "Relieved, I suppose is the best word for it." He pauses to look at her face and take in the confusion that has crossed her face in crumbled eyebrows and a small frown on her lips. "Because of last night. Me leaving you. I suppose-"
"No, no, no, no!" She insists, cutting Fred off from his excuses. "Don't be sorry. Those badges are-"
"But still, you needed help and I-"
"It was deserved." Mallory finishes, and their song of continuing each other's lines finishes with both of them smiling. "Besides, revenge is a very long game, Weasley. So, I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you." His smile grows wider and she can feel her heart expanding at the sight. He gets me, she thinks to herself, realising that maybe Fred Weasley can do more than finish her sentences. "Because in a game like this, I'm pretty sure as a Slytherin," she smirks when Fred looks down to her green and silver tie, as if reminding himself that he's chatting to the enemy. "I'll be beating you anytime."
"Game on, Black."
He walks away first and Mallory hopes for maybe just a second longer than he will return to her. But, he steps from around the pillar, back into the soft glow emitted from the Great Hall to return to his Gryffindor friends. Mallory counts to fifteen, just in case anybody might spot that they had just been with each other, blending herself into a group of Beauxbatons students as she enters.
"Mal!" Calls Amara, who sits at the heart of Draco's group of Slytherins. Her eyes are wide as if in warning but her lips are wide in a grin. Beside her, Draco holds an evening edition of the Daily Prophet. "You've got to read what Draco's dad sent to him!"
She beckons over with her hands and suddenly Mallory finds herself between Crabbe and Goyle, as if under interrogation. Draco's eyes flash with darkness as he spots his not-sister and she wonders for a moment whether he had seen her chatting with a Weasley. But, like Amara, he is smirking at the paper.
"You've got to read Skeeter's latest column." He informs her, handing it over immediately before Mallory can help herself to the meat pie that she has her eye on.
"Rita Skeeter?" Mallory repeats, looking at the paper for confirmation. In the corner of the article, her jewelled spectacles blocking out a viciously victorious smile. "I had no idea anyone bothered to read the rubbish she calls 'news'."
RITA SKEETER INTERVIEWS HARRY POTTER, CHAMPION.
Mallory lets out a hearty chuckle at the title of the article, grey eyes glancing over towards the Hufflepuff table. Many of them, too, have the Daily Prophet resting on their tables, glares being thrown towards Harry Potter.
"Just you wait," Draco warns, diverting the attention back to the article by tapping the top of the article with his wand.
"Ever since the announcement of the return of the Triwizard Tournament, a vastly dangerous, skillful and ultimately, glamourous competition, the question on this writer's lips has been: who could possibly make up our glamorous tributes? From Beauxbatons, the beautiful, delicate Fleur Delacour. From Durmstrang, the brooding hunk Viktor Krum. But it is Hogwarts' own champion that has wizarding Britain alight with equal parts excitement and concern: Harry Potter." Mallory reads the words that Rita Skeeter has written with a tone of contempt that Rita Skeeter, who she had met only once previously. "This esteemed journalist has been very graciously granted the very first, exclusive interview with the boy himself. Who said, 'I suppose you get my strength from my parents, I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now… yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, oh Merlin, this is too good!"
"Carry on reading, Mal!" Exclaims Amara.
Besides them, other Slytherins begin to listen in on Mallory's dramatic reading, now beginning to wipe away a fake tear from her grey eye.
"I'm not ashamed to admit it… I know nothing will hurt me during the Tournament, because they're watching over me. Don't make me laugh, 'nothing will hurt me'? That boy couldn't look at the right side of a dementor without fainting all over the place. Just one glance at Snape in a dimly lit corridor and he goes a funny shade of grey!"
The Slytherins laugh, causing Mallory to continue reading with an even louder voice as Draco's proud smile returns to his face.
"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey- who? - says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school. Blah blah blah, does he mention anything about wetting the bed? Ooh! Harry Potter will compete in the first of the three competition stages this Winter, where he is sure to show his admirers, and his adversaries, just how he became the boy-who-lived."
By the end of Mallory's reading, her voice is reaching the other Hogwarts houses, many of whom pause mid-bite of their food to listen to the Slytherin, Mallory Black, mock Harry Potter. "Is there literally no mention of the other Hogwarts champion?"
"Not a word," confirms Draco, rolling his eyes over Mallory's shoulder.
"Hopefully for Harry the first round of the competition will be driving somebody else to tears of boredom. If that's all Skeeter has to write about him, he really must be a dull guy." The Hufflepuffs even laugh at this and it is only in that moment that Mallory realises how loud she has been speaking.
"Thanks for the interesting reading, Draco. Now, let me eat pie." She says, suddenly overcome with the amount of eyes that now pay her special attention.
In particular, as she grabs a slice of pie handed to her by Blaise, she notices a fiery look of hatred that seems as hardened against her as any other. The boy, she realises is older than her and wearing Gryffindor robes, whilst sitting beside a group of Hufflepuffs.
"Why are Gryffindors such tossers?" Mallory mumbles to Amara, feeling uncomfortable as the boy continues to glare daggers at her.
"I think it's the imposed righteousness." Amara replies, not noticing Mallory's attention continuing to fixate on the Gryffindor. "Why have 'bravery' as your trait? Just seems pig-headed to me."
"Takes one to know one," smirks Blaise, earning himself a hit from across the table off Amara.
"Shut it, Zabini." She growls.
"What makes you mention the Gryffindors anyway?" Asks Blaise, who watches the Gryffindor table rather than the Gryffindor amongst yellow and black. "I didn't think you troubled yourself with house politics."
"I don't." Mallory confirms, her grey eyes glancing momentarily back towards her untouched meat pie before finding her target once more, who is now on the move. "I just don't understand what they have against us all of the time."
"Well," starts Amara, smirking as she begins to talk, knowing how to annoy her best friend. "You did just mock Harry Potter for five minutes for all of the houses to hear."
Mallory opens her mouth to object, knowing that really, she was also insulting the writing of Rita Skeeter, but is taken aback by the glaring Gryffindor. He finally finds his smile upon returning to the Gryffindor table, slapping the back of a friend as he sits. His friend smiles joyfully but, eyebrows furrow as he begins to speak, three sets of eyes somehow immediately finding Mallory's. The Gryffindor who overheard rolls brown eyes as he speaks, even pointing a hand towards the group of Slytherins that Mallory happened to be sitting in. One friend shrugs, as if he's not surprised by the news that is spread, as if his friend is his very own Rita Skeeter, spreading the gossip. But, it is the other identical friend who holds his gaze towards her, shaking his head slightly knowing that she is watching him, too. And Mallory realises she had no idea that disappointment could sting; Lucius had long thrown the word around, as if threatening her, a cast-off of the Malfoys as if all she could ever be was a disappointment but never had she felt it before.
"What are you looking at?" Amara asks, finally waving her hand in front of Mallory's face.
Both Mallory and Fred Weasley break their eye contact, turning to their now-unsavoury food.
"Nothing," lies Mallory, dipping her fork into the gravy to collect some onto her tongue. But it's bitter, this stinging disappointment that suddenly makes her insides churn and her memories cringe at the way she's acted.
Since when do I care what Gryffindor house thinks of me? Is her all-encompassing thought.
"Are you-" Amara cuts her own concerned question off, "Look! It's Mikael, that Durmstrang student." Her voice grows quieter with every step that several of the Durmstrang students take, nearing the Slytherin table as it has become their table, too, over the past few weeks of staying on the Hogwarts grounds.
Viktor Krum, surprisingly for Amara, has not emerged this evening for his dinner at his usual time, which Mallory knows will be discussed in detail beneath the canopy of their beds in their Slytherin dormitory. But, the rest of the Durmstrang group appear, laughing heartily as they take their seats at the end of the Slytherin table, nearest to the door.
But, as Amara notices, Mikael seems to have set his sights higher up the table than the unwritten Durmstrang seating rule.
"Hi Mikael!" Amara greets, sweeping auburn hair over her shoulder as if she's tapping into unused veela powers. Her bright, white smile imbues him with more confidence, as a nervous shuffle becomes a powerful march to sit beside Amara, smiling at Mallory and Blaise opposite her and boldly greeting Draco with a nod.
"Hi," greet Mallory and Blaise in unison, both with less enthusiasm than Amara.
"How has your days been?" He asks, greeting them with an equally handsome of a smile that Amara is giving him in return.
"Fine," answers Mallory with a shrug, resisting an overwhelming urge to look back at the Gryffindor table.
Will he still be there, locked in time waiting for her grey eyes to meet his brown? Forever shaking his head as the sting of disappointment continues to churn her stomach over and over until she has lost every ounce of her appetite.
"I think time is just moving slowly," Mallory adds, trying to make an effort after noticing, in her misery, that she had stolen the smile from Mikael's face also. "We're all waiting for the first task."
"Ah, yes." He says, smile returning now, framed by black curls that cut across his chin. "Viktor is also very preoccupied with his preparations. He spends all of his time in your library," he chuckles to himself and Mallory watches Amara's brown eyes light up, showing hidden flecks of emerald. "The books here must be more interesting to him than at Durmstrang. The studying fever at Hogwarts must be catching."
"Yes, I think Amara caught it too." Blaise adds, forcing Mallory to swallow her giggle as Amara scowls at him for a moment, before realising that Mikael's eyes have turned to her too. "What were you researching the other night, Amara? Charms, was it?"
"Transfiguration," she growls through smiling teeth. "With Mallory."
"My favourite!" Mikael exclaims, looking between both girls as Blaise smirks with a childish satisfaction. "What strand of Transfiguration would you say is your favourite?"
It is clear he's directing his attention towards Amara, who blushes beneath the scrutiny. After all, Mallory realises, if either of them were to attend Durmstrang, Mallory would fit in easier with her thick, bushy eyebrows and dark, unruly curls that often blow across her face. She is so far apart from her fairer friend; dark eyes that light up in colour when amused and her fair, auburn hair that lies perfectly atop of her head. But, Amara wouldn't know the difference between any of the strands of Transfiguration and if Mikael walked straight to the top table to inform her that he's just had an illuminating discussion with Amara Carrow about Transfiguration, more than one Hogwarts Professor would fall from their chair in shock.
"At the moment I'm working on self-disillusionment." Mallory answers for Amara, watching as she lets out a puff of air in relief and relaxes slightly back into the bench. "It's hard and I'm no expert. Last night I managed to disillusion my foot, though."
"You didn't tell me that part!" Blaise turns to his friend, shocked. Mainly due to the fact that by the time Hogwarts had released Mallory from its grip, Mallory was less than keen to discuss the events that happened on that staircase.
"I'll make sure to bring you cake on your 100th birthday then, I'm assuming the location of the party will be this exact step? "
"Stop mocking me and pull."
"I am pulling, Black, damn!"
"Well, it was just a bit of magic." She shrugs, ignoring the burning question alight in Blaise's eyes.
She pushes her pie around on her plate, breaking the crust up into smaller pieces with her fork. She can't look into any more of these brown, questioning eyes.
She wonders whether Fred is still watching.
"Not my style. I'm not sure why I thought you were different, to be honest."
But really, why would he bother?
24th November, 1994"I think it's entirely unfair that we've had to endure a whole morning of double Snape in Potions before the trial today!" Amara whines on the crisp November afternoon of the first trial of the Triwizard Tournament.
"At least Snape wasn't as half as bad as usual," Mallory reminds her, looping her arm through Amara's as they embark down narrow stone steps, towards where the Quidditch pitch once had been. "Perhaps there's something in the air."
"More like Harry Potter is about to face a deadly task. Would be enough to put Snape in a good mood any day of the week." Amara points out, causing Mallory to laugh.
"You know, Blaise, he only insulted me three times this morning!" Mallory sarcastically exclaims. "I think I may be his new favourite."
"If you're his favourite then I'm moving schools!" Amara scoffs, tripping slightly on the path as the three Slytherins walk. "I can't handle a world where Mallory is the favourite of two Hogwarts Professors."
"I'm definitely not McGonagall's favourite!" Mallory responds, shaking her head as they pass a large, white tent. Now, they neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"But you knew which professor I was talking about," Amara points out, barely looking over the tent that captures all attention as students and professors pass it by. "What did she say when you told her about disillusioning your foot, again?"
"She gave me 100 house points." Mallory replies with a grumble, though still her face is beaming from the excitement of the first task. "I wonder what they'll have to do!"
Her wonderings are answered quickly by a loud roar, causing all three of them to jump, though Blaise would never admit to it.
"Wonder what has gotten Trelawney roaring so loud," Blaise jokes, causing the other two to nervously laugh too.
Behind the tent they walk, entering the stadium of spectators. They climb the stairs and all the while Mallory wonders what the champions will be forced to face as they climb higher and higher. Would they be able to see a thing from this high up?
"Maybe it's a really dangerous game of Quidditch." Blaise wonders aloud, shuffling past Hufflepuffs with DIGGORY sparkling across their foreheads to find three available seats.
"If it is I'm jumping off that edge." Amara responds flatly. Today, her auburn hair is tied up in braids, leaving her face clear, where KRUM can be read across her left cheek, with VIKTOR alighting the right cheek.
"But if it's Quidditch, at least you can see your man play," Blaise reminds her and Amara's head turns so quickly to face Blaise's that Mallory cringes at the pain it must've caused in her neck.
"My man?- Mallory!" She whines, realising suddenly who Blaise is referring to. "Do you have to tell Blaise everything?"
"He's my best friend." Mallory answers, looking out past the confines of the stadium where students and professors were sat, waiting for the task to start. She's unable to see anything else, except for a large white covering which blocks the spectators from seeing their contents.
"See, Carrow. She finally admitted it." Blaise teases, wrapping his arm around Mallory's shoulder to pull her closer to him. She leans in, resting her cheek against the Slytherin scarf that protects his neck from the bitter chill of November.
"Amara is my best friend too." Mallory teases him in return, giving Amara her smile back.
"But why do I never hear embarrassing things that Blaise tells you?"
"Listen, Amara." Mallory starts, wrapping her Slytherin scarf closer to her chin as the wind blows her black curls around her face. Amara's trusting brown eyes find her grey. "The moment that Blaise decides to pull me into a stalking scheme of a famous Quidditch player, you will be the first person that I inform."
"Place your bets here!"
The voice breaks through her surroundings, where Blaise throws his head back in laughter and Amara even giggles at her ridiculous fantasy of convincing Viktor Krum that she is the one for him, and she is immediately caught off guard by the realisation of how attuned she is to Fred Weasely's voice. Of course, it very well could've been the other Weasley twin, the one she had not yet made the acquaintance of, but her eyes race off on their own accord, searching the tops of heads for that familiar red hair, seeking out his chocolate brown eyes or his bright smile which leaves dimples indented into freckled skin. Finally, she catches sight of him, smiling as the two boys exchange tickets for sickles and knuts, avoiding the disapproving glances from other students and seeking out those eager to gamble about the events of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.
"...right, Mallory?" Amara's voice breaks her from her own inspection, as she watches the two boys collect money and exchange smiling glances between one another.
"What was that?"
"What were you watching?" Blaise asks, turning around to where Mallory had been staring. "Found your own Viktor Krum, have you?"
"No, of course not. Must've zoned out for a second, there." Mallory shakes her head, causing her curls to leave her ears exposed so that the cold chill hits them. "I hope we start soon, I'm bloody freezing." She pulls her fur hat further down her head, so that it protects her ears and leans closer into Blaise, knowing that he would happily share his body warmth with her.
"I like this hat, by the way." Blaise says, stroking his fingers against the soft fur.
"Christmas present from the Malfoys last year." She informs him, stroking it herself now too. "Well, present from Narcissa. I doubt Lucius knows what the present is until I open it before him."
"International guests, talented students and esteemed Professors. Please make your way to find your seats." Mallory easily spots the familiar yellow robes of Ludo Bagman, drawing attention towards him, amplifying his voice with the sonos charm on his wand as if it were a microphone. "The First Task is about to begin."
Her eyes automatically seek out Fred Weasley, who has moved on from his last customer. The twins begin to count their coins whilst absent-mindedly wandering the stands to find spare seats.
"Just now, our four Champions withdrew, at random, smaller artefacts which represent what they will be facing." Mallory's eyes glaze over from Ludo Bagman, back towards the twins as he finally finds her too, watching her and sending a small wave her way as he realises they've both found each other. She smiles back, not even pretending to watch the cover be removed as the roar of the crowd clashes against the very real roar of the creatures, and Fred points to nearby free seats in the stand. His twin is cheering at the sight of the dragons whilst Fred continues to guide his twin towards their destination, mouthing hi to Mallory whilst Blaise and Amara still marvel at the sight as he sits down, finally, in the row in front of them.
"Mallory! Dragons!" Amara exclaims, shaking her friend's arm so excitedly that her hat is knocked backwards off her head, causing Blaise and her to laugh.
"I can see that, Mar!" Mallory replies, finally looking for the first time to the large cages that are housing four, large, terrifying dragons.
"You've got to give it to Potter, I think I'd be crying at the sight of those beasts, too." Mallory says beneath the shocked cries and astounded cheers as the first of the dragons is chained to the middle of the stadium, a circle of dragon tamers on guard, their wands pointing towards it. Blaise laughs at the reference to the Skeeter article which has united Slytherins and Hufflepuffs to quote whenever Potter may pass them whilst Amara continues to tug on Mallory's arm, as if she's a toddler being ignored.
"Still confident that Krum will scuff it?" One of the twins asks the other, causing Mallory's ears instantly to block away all sound from the crowd, who begin cheering on the first champion, Cedric Diggory. "I feel like the bloke may face off quite well against a dragon."
"Not many bets on Fleur, though." The other replies, "Not many wanting those odds."
Before she can help herself, already leaning off her seat to listen to their conversation, Mallory opens her mouth, inserting herself into their conversation.
"I'll place a bet on Fleur, thanks." She says, reaching into her pocket to pull out twenty sickles, holding them out with her Slytherin-gloved hands. She immediately knows which one is Fred, now, as he turns quickly with a bright smile to take the sickles from her hand, whilst the other watches her with a subdued curiosity. "Make sure you're not ripping me off, Weasley."
"Never, Black." He laughs, shaking his head as he begins to write her ticket. The other Weasley twin continues to watch her, his smile disappearing with every word exchanged between the two as Amara, too, bristles as Fred continues to exist in her vicinity.
"Now, facing a Swedish Short-Snout, please welcome Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory!"
"C'mon concentrate, Mallory!" Amara begs, pointing as Cedric, draped in yellow Quidditch robes exits the tent where the Champions were waiting, warily watching the dragon as it circles her eggs protectively.
He pulls his wand out, sifting through a pile of rocks,
"You're meant to go for the gold one, Diggory!" Shouts Fred, who shoots a look behind him to check that Mallory laughs at his joke, which she does.
"Ooh! A dog!" Mallory exclaims as Diggory transfigures the largest of the rocks into a labrador, which happily barks and trots nearer to the dragon and its nest. "That best not be a sacrificial dog!"
"I think it may well be, Black." Fred confirms, as the labrador continues to wag its tail and the dragon watches it cautiously.
"This is animal cruelty!"
"You're watching a competition with a dragon in chains."
"The dragon could escape if it wanted to."
They laugh as they exchange quick words, the world of dragons roaring, crowds gasping and Ludo Bagman commentating on every near miss that Cedric Diggory has. The only proof in Mallory's world that breaks into her bubble of banter with Fred Weasley is the occasional lofty glance from his twin or a nudge in the ribs from Amara.
"Fred! How are the bets coming along?" Another red head pushes their way through the crowd, this one being the friend of Harry Potter, who proudly wears Gryffindor colours to support his friend. "Many for Harry?"
"Oh, finally talking to him now, are you?" Responds Fred with a joke, who finally turns his back to Mallory to speak to his brother and twin.
"What is with you?" Whispers Amara the minute that Fred's attention is elsewhere. "Since when do you speak to Weasleys?"
"Just being polite." Mumbles Mallory, hoping that the quieter twin doesn't overhear their conversation. "Look, he's turned back around now. Nothing to worry about."
She concentrates, or tries to, on Diggory as he orders his transfigured labrador to distract the blue-grey dragon. Finally, as the dragon concludes that the labrador is too close to her eggs, it leaves the perimeter of her nest to chase after it, meaning that Cedric leaps into action. He stealthily hides behind larger boulders, darting like a mouse from safe spot to safe spot until he nears the eggs.
"He's going to get it! Look!" Blaise shouts, brown eyes alight in entertainment and excitement as only a few yards separate Cedric and the golden egg, his target.
As if hearing Blaise from the roar of the stands, the dragon's head turns, attention diverted. Cedric doesn't notice as the dragon decides it would rather hunt out him than an overly excited labrador that had once existed as a rock and begins to charge towards him, just as Cedric reaches out for that egg. As his hands grip around it, the dragon lashes out, using teeth rather than fire as it descends on him and the crowd, helpless to give him aid, cry out in gasps and shock. But, the dragon is pulled away, Cedric holds his egg close by whilst still holding onto his injured side as blood red seeps into yellow and the labrador becomes a rock once more.
"Bloody good bit of Transfiguration, there." Mallory says as Cedric is led away, towards Madam Pomfrey. "I'd give him a 10."
"At least you're giving him points based on magic." Blaise responds, still clapping his hands together in the raucous applause for Diggory. "Amara would give Krum a 10 based on his face alone."
"Can we stop with the Krum mentions now?" Amara rolls her eyes, even though it's clear to them both that she is bothered by Blaise's taunts. "It's getting boring."
"No, it isn't." Disagrees Blaise.
"... and Harry has got to face one of those bloody things!" Exclaims Ron Weasley in front of them.
"Glad to see you're now feeling some remorse for cutting your best friend out of your life for a month," Fred responds, clapping Ron on the back for extra measure.
Mallory smiles as she realises it is not only her that can feel the sting of Fred Weasley's disappointment.
"Didn't realise it would only take a dragon to make you two chaps friends again." Agrees Fred's twin, and he smiles at Fred in a way that reminds her overwhelmingly of Fred himself. Then, she remembers, that the two boys are identical.
"What are you smirking at?" Blaise asks, diverting her attention.
She notices Fred coyly look behind him, still clapping as Diggory receives his points from the judges, holding a large wad of bandages to his chest and Madam Pomfrey bristling behind him, desperate to tend more to his wounds. "Don't tell me you'll join in with the stalking of Hogwarts champions, too?" She shakes her head, clapping politely and her hands make a drumming sound, woven Slytherin gloves drumming against each other. The twin turns his head and notices those green and silver colours once more.
"Don't let anybody else find out that all it takes is a bit of Transfiguration to make you go weak at the knees," Blaise jokes, "Next you'll be panting over McGonagall the next time she shows you how to disfigure your ears."
"It's my whole leg next, actually." Responds Mallory, rolling her grey eyes and watching the stadium absent-mindedly. The Swedish Short-Snout is removed and a green, smaller dragon replaces it. "And we're disillusioning, not disfiguring."
"The point still stands." Blaise laughs,
"It's Professor Lupin all over again!" Amara agrees, laughing along with Blaise.
"I prefer it when you two don't get along. Teaming up against me isn't fair. And I didn't fancy Professor Lupin!"
"Look, there's Charlie!"
She feels herself pulled to the attention of the Weasley brothers, as Fred points down towards the dragon. Mallory finds their focus easily, recognising the familiar red hair, a trait of the Weasley children and she is speaking once again before she can help herself.
"Does your brother tame dragons?" She asks.
Fred's twin turns, shocked and confused. Ron Weasley jumps, as if not realising that anyone worth speaking to had been behind him, then realising he was right. Fred, bright brown eyes the colour of Honeydukes chocolate smiles warmly at her once more, twisting his body so that he is half-facing her completely once more. Mallory suddenly realises she missed his attention in those long minutes of Cedric Diggory's task, when it had been elsewhere.
"Yes. He's the red head down there." Fred tells her, pointing down to the dragon. She looks anyway, even though she'd already spotted him and then quickly looks back to Fred, feeling as if it were the height of July as he continues to smile at her. "He works in Romania with the dragons, we don't see him very often. The prat didn't even tell us that he was going to be at Hogwarts for the first task."
She laughs with him, which causes her to receive more startled looks from both Gryffindors and Slytherins. Amara nudges her even harder in the ribs, watching the unfolding conversation with intense scrutiny as Ron Weasley's neck turns red and he purposefully watches the waiting dragon.
"One down, three to go!" Announces Bagman.
"Maybe he wanted a quiet trip, no drama, just a load of dragons and no annoying little brother."
"Miss Delacour, if you please!"
"Who said I'm annoying?" He asks with a devilish grin on his face and she feels her breath hitch in her throat as the November wind blows waves of his red hair across his cheek, even as most of it is tucked beneath a hand-knitted hat. In that moment, as she searches her mind with a quick-witted response that will prompt another carefree laugh from Fred Weasley, and she watches his kind, chocolate brown eyes watch her with an intense interest, she realises she finds him handsome. Not an obvious handsome, like Blaise beside her. Or a famed good-looking like Viktor Krum. Not even a fit adjective could be used alike to how they'd describe Cedric Diggory, the perfect prefect who can do no wrong, even when leaving a cute labrador as bait for a dragon. No, she realises that Fred is overwhelmingly interesting, funny and yes, strikingly lovely to look at.
"Do I even need to answer that question?" She asks, delighting in his laughter and mock-shocked face as his mouth creates a perfect o.
"You're just rude, Black."
"Truth hurts, Weasley."
"I'm going to find Hermione." Ron Weasley stands, looking with uncertainty at Mallory once more, and it's reminiscent of the looks she's usually so insecure of, when Harry Potter spots her in the corridor or Hermione Granger watches her curiously as she chats to Professor McGonagall before the fourth year's class. Now, though, she realises this uncertain look has a reason, just as Amara's annoyed huffing and pointed elbows into her ribs are entirely warranted. They've never even seen her look at Fred Weasley before now.
"What?" Mallory asks Blaise, who smirks at her with the same look he gave her when they were 10 and she had successfully blamed a smashed plate on an innocent Draco.
"Nothing," he replies, folding his arms in a victor's pose.
"Look, Blaise! Fleur Delacour! Best stop drooling all over her!" Amara mocks, as the only female champion enters the stadium.
"Actually, Mallory was the one to place a bet on her, so she's probably the one who'll be doing the drooling."
She spends the first five minutes watching Fleur's performance over the top of Fred Weasley's head, overly attentive to his every move as he chats to his twin, or other Gryffindors that surround them. Only after Fleur's first charm, which magicks her Welsh Green dragon into a trance does Fred begin turning around once more, alighting Amara's disapproval and Blaise's knowing smirks.
If she falls over her own feet now I'm knocking that from your winnings.
If she lets victory slip from her hands due to her own feet then you can keep the money.
That's how betting works, Black.
And so the quick words continue, ignoring the obvious disapproval around them as twin and friends attempt to divert their committed attention. She feels giddy once more, a French Girl facing a dragon no longer the most exciting thing to be happening in the stadium as his attention never wavers from her. Even as Ludo Bagman exclaims and students surround the twins to make more bets for Fleur, Fred continues to jovially joke with her; continually flashing his golden, Gryffindor smile.
"Look at her robes!" Mallory finally exclaims, watching as the dazed dragon snorts flames that catch onto her blue robes. Fleur's distracted as she begins to extinguish the flames with water from her wand, distracting Fred who finds Fleur alight and watches the precarious situation unfold. She suddenly feels herself cursing Fleur Delacour and her flammable clothes, as Fred whoops with cheers when Fleur finally gets the golden egg, holding it up happily.
Hours pass until the final champion, Harry Potter, earns the loudest cheers from Fred Weasley and his twin, along with not only Gryffindors, but Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws alike as they forget their previous insistence to hate the unexpected Champion. Even though the points mean that Mallory has lost her bet to Fred Weasley, by the time that everyone begins to walk from the stadium, Mallory cannot wipe the smile from her face. Even as Amara does all she can to do so.
"I just don't understand-"
"There's a shock," interrupts Blaise.
"Shut up, Blaise!" She responds angrily. "I just don't understand why you were so friendly with the Weasley twins."
"I think it was just the one twin, actually." Blaise again argues.
"The point still stands!" She exclaims, stomping her feet against the stones as they begin the trek back up the hill, towards the castle. "Why are you speaking to him? Point number 1, you're a Slytherin, he's a Gryffindor."
She holds up her gloved hands to show Mallory one finger held up.
"Point number 2: he's a Weasley, you're a Malfoy-"
"Actually-"
"She's as good as, Blaise!" Bristles Amara after Blaise's interruption. "And finally, pureblood," she gestures to Mallory by swinging her hands up and down. "He's a blood traitor! All of the signs point to it not working-"
"It doesn't need to work!" Replies Mallory finally. "I've spoken to him once. It was friendly. Why are you reading into something that doesn't need reading into? And great…" Mallory continues as they reach Hagrid's hut. She pats the top of her head, realising that it had been long-forgotten in the stands of the stadium. "I left my hat."
"So?"
"It was a gift, Amara." Rolling her eyes, she stops in her tracks, determined to return to the stadium without Amara's bitter ranting and Blaise's sarcastic remarks. "You two head back and I'll fetch it. I'll meet you back in the Great Hall."
Her two best friends exchange wary looks, uncertain about the prospect of returning to Hogwarts just the two of them.
"It's literally a five minute walk to the Great Hall and then you won't have to speak to each other for the rest of the evening. Go!"
"I can't believe you're not angry about this." Amara continues as the two turn away from Mallory.
"Well you're angry enough for the both of us."
Without Amara in her ear, Mallory turns back towards the Forbidden Forest, walking strangely against the crowd as the populus of Hogwarts make their way back towards the castle.
"Mallory, just the girl!" Mallory stops as McGonagall stops too, with Sprout beside her. "Where are you off to, my girl?"
"I left my hat in the stadium," she replies, pointing in the direction she was heading.
Students avoid them as Mallory and her Professors block up the majority of the path, stuck in conversation.
"What did you want me for?" She asks, looking cautiously back towards the stadium, worried that the Professors would not allow her to return to a site so close to the Forest and a horde of dragons.
"To ask you about Diggory's Transfiguration, of course. We've just been discussing both Potter and Diggory's magical triumphs."
"It was cool."
"Not quite as cool as disillusioning your own foot, I hear." Sprout adds which causes Mallory to bask in the attentive praise. "Professor McGonagall here has been telling me about your impressive feats in Transfiguration."
"Just a pity I can't apply it to my Herbology." Mallory jokes. "But… I'd best fetch my hat before it gets dark."
"Yes. Definitely, Mallory," McGonagall adds, giving her a warm look of a warning. "I don't need to remind you that you must be back in the Castle before dark, Mallory."
It feels like an odd sensation, walking against the crowd, expecting at any moment for a pupil or professor to add that she's walking the wrong way. The path to the Forbidden Forest, which once was untrodden, apart from larger footprints left by Hagrid and his dog Fang, now has reduced the mud to sludge and she struggles against the new terrain along with the cooler, evening wind that pushes her hair in different directions.
"You look like you need a hat!"
She knows before she looks up, immediately smiling as she turns her eyes away from her current precarious footing in the mud to see Fred Weasley, yet again, holding up her fur hat high above his head.
"How did you know?"
She gasps when he pushes the hat into his nose, loudly sniffing whilst closing the gap between the two of them.
"I just knew," he shrugs. "I can smell the galleons. There's only one filthy rich Slytherin it could fit."
"Can I have it back then?" She holds her hand out, trying desperately to keep the all-consuming grin from her face as, yet again, she holds his attention.
"You know, I think I could get used to wearing it as an absurdly large glove." He spins the hat around on his left hand, finally reaching her to place it on top of his own hat. His hat is clearly less expensive, probably home-made, different shades of orange and brown wool knitted together which stands out against the upscale fur hat with a cosy velvet lining that keeps her head warm even in the middle of winter. "Or maybe just a second hat."
"Well, we'll just have to switch then." She insists, quickly pulling his own hat from Fred's head and tugging it down, flattening her curls. "Much better."
"I see how it is," he jokes, pulling Mallory's hat further down on his head. "I reckon money suits me."
"Definitely." She agrees, nodding at Fred as they now begin to walk away from the Forbidden Forest once more.
"Fancy a walk around the lake?"
His question catches her off-guard. Up until now, their conversations had happened purely by chance; in corridors, staircases and stadiums. The question changes the dynamic of their random encounters. A walk around the lake extends the chance encounter into a longer gathering.
"Sure."
From the trodden and beaten path, they divert towards the lake, where the sunset reflects across the dark water and beside the lake, the air feels cooler though Mallory wonders whether that's because it's nearing dark.
"So."
"So…"
They both laugh, turning the awkward silence into a shared acknowledgement. Mallory self-consciously twirls a black curl around her finger, then sweeps invisible air from her face, back towards feeling the texture of her lips before tugging slightly on the hat to sit more comfortably on her head.
"I don't think your friends like me." He laughs, continuing to drive their walk into an awkward conversation. "Well, I know, from the glares she was sending me that she isn't too happy with my existence."
"Well, your brothers didn't seem too happy either." She retorts, cringing at the way her voice had made Ron Weasley jump so suddenly and everytime Fred's twin had tried to covertly steal a glance at her, frowning slightly as he did so.
"Nah, ignore them." He bats his hand through the air, shaking his head at the suggestion. "Ron's fallen out with Harry so he's extra moody lately and George is just bitter that he has to put up with me all of the time."
"I'm still not fully convinced that you're not George." She replies, narrowing her grey eyes at Fred. He smirks, a joke ready to retort to her at the tip of his tongue.
"Surely you can tell the difference between us now?"
"Show me your bum and I'll know for sure." He laughs immediately, remembering their conversation: Well, George has a birthmark on his bum, so you're more than welcome to check that I haven't got it.
"Oh, you're that type of Slytherin." He shakes his head, smile unable to be contained on his face and they walk step-in-step, nearing the edge of the lake to begin their planned route.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, still smiling too and her cheeks feel ready to burst like balloons from the joy. "Going for the house is a low blow, next you'll be saying you usually only consort with Gryffindors."
"I do only consort with Gryffindors," he tells her with an embarrassed laugh. Mallory feels her cheeks blush. "I guess you're the exception."
"I feel honoured." She places her hand on her heart, meaning that Fred catches a glimpse of her green-and-silver covered hands. "I suppose, as well, because," she pauses, unsure how to continue with her current thought. "Most Gryffindors wouldn't be happy to see me with you."
"And yet here we are."
"Here we are." She echoes, still quite wondering how they had ended up walking around the lake together at sunset.
"I suppose if your Slytherin pals saw us walking together they might have something to say about it, too."
"Definitely," she agrees. Whilst Blaise would smirk and tease her in private in contrast to Amara who would bash her in public, they are just two Slytherins who would act separately to the populus of Slytherin house. "I imagine there would be flogging."
"Sounds painful."
"Not to mention the public beration." She adds, laughing and joking but fully realising that would be her reality.
"I suppose your brother wouldn't be too happy either."
"He's not my brother." She responds automatically, still laughing even as Fred's smile falters for a moment. "Well, he's not not my brother. Foster brother would be more appropriate than just calling him my outright brother- and now I can't stop saying the word brother-"
She's cut off with a louder bark of laughter from Fred and it reminds her of Blaise and the way that when Blaise is caught off-guard, his amusement is clear from the way his head tilts up towards the ceiling and his laughter comes from deep within his chest. Ordinarily, his laughter is in hidden scoffs hiding behind his fingers so that no one can see how hilarious he finds most events in the Slytherin Common Room. Fred though, is unabashed in his amusement, shaking his head still with freckles surrounding his dimples as an exhibit of his mood.
"But to conclude, no, Draco would probably send me straight home if he could see me right now. Or, at least, write home with the sole purpose of having me removed from Hogwarts.."
Saying it aloud allows her to feel nervous, looking around even though she's well-aware that the rest of the Hogwarts populus is inside the Great Hall, eating the house elves' fantastic, hot soup which is the perfect meal to have after an afternoon out in the chill November air. Draco will be re-enacting every slightly embarrassing thing that Harry Potter had done during his task while trying desperately to show that he is not jealous of the new-found attention and support that Harry Potter is receiving. Blaise will sit on the edge of those Slytherins, probably enjoying himself less because Mallory is not there to giggle at his subtle eye rolls and cutting remarks. Amara, however, will probably be brainstorming a way to invade the parade of girls who, no-doubt, will be surrounding Viktor Krum after his performance in the First Task. No, they may not wonder where she is now. But would they care if they knew?
By the time that they've gotten halfway around the lake, the sun is set and Mallory realises that she's broken her promise to McGonagall to be back in the castle by dark. Fred lights the way with a soft lumos, pointing his wand towards their feet to guide their way. They discuss the Triwizard Tournament, avoiding any mention of her unhappy friends and his shocked family. They discuss lessons without mentioning their different house colours. Whilst they skirt around all of the reasons why Amara believed they would not work, Mallory still cannot keep the smile from her face or the giddy jumps in her breathing that comes naturally every time her jokes make him laugh.
"Oh! Before I forget," he digs his hands into his pocket, as her heart sinks at the sight of the castle moving closer and closer towards them. "I reckon you still earnt some winnings from your bet earlier," he pulls out some sickles, offering them to her.
"But… Fleur lost."
"I reckon the judges were biased. Her putting the dragon into a daze was definitely more entertaining than Potter's flying around the grounds on a firebolt."
"Well, now I know you're lying." She narrows her eyes at him. "Hands down, Potter was the most interesting."
He pauses, just for a moment as his foot acts as if it has become stuck in the mud. Her cocks his head to the side, as if studying her for the first time that evening and his smile skews halfway to the side.
"What?" She asks, feeling self-conscious; checking her curls, pulling his hat down further to cover her ears, suddenly wondering if they're sticking out like a house elf.
"I wouldn't expect a Slytherin to compliment a Gryffindor."
"Well… it was cool, summoning the broom and all. Even Krum, a literal professional Quidditch player didn't think of playing to his strengths." She continues, "Anyway, Slytherins are allowed to compliment Gryffindors… the situation just doesn't arise very often." He laughs, throwing his hands back into his pockets, as if shrinking his body back into himself and his steps slow. There, she realises, their lap of the lake has ended. "So…"
"So." He echoes, making her laugh once more. "This was fun."
"Yeah," she tucks her hair behind her ear, pushing through rising nerves to turn to face him completely as the two come to a stop. "Who knew Gryffindors could be interesting enough to talk the whole way round the lake?"
"Who knew Slytherins could be selfless enough to not talk about themselves the whole way round the lake?" He retorts, nudging her with his elbow as his hands remain in his pocket. "But seriously, this was fun. Chatting, without the eyes of our houses' founders watching down on us. Or brothers, fake brothers and annoyed, scary friends."
"My friends aren't scary," she mock-gasps, nudging him now too. She feels her heart sink as they return to the main path back up to the castle, even with his lumos highlighting the way for them, echoing the steps of other Hogwarts students. "She might get scary, though…" she halts the words on her tongue, wondering whether to say them would add more gravity to their situation. It was just a walk, she reminds herself, though even from a mental reminder she finds her brain asking hundreds of more questions, wondering why the walk happened to begin with. "If…"
"If?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as if he's a 7 year old asking for desert.
"If she knew about the lake." She concludes, imagining her best friend's immediate scrutiny that Mallory would receive if she ever dared mention that she'd walked around the lake with Fred.
"Well, it's a pretty large bed of water, I'd be shocked if she didn't know about the lake."
Mallory pauses, feeling confused before realising that once more, Fred is joking with her. She hits his elbow, causing his hand to fall from his pocket, opening up his body language and she feels an overwhelming urge to hug him. Even wearing her hat, elegant fur lining the side of his head, he still looks to her as a simple, happy guy. If any Slytherin, with their pure blood riches, had worn her hat, they'd exhibit a dignified, majestic nature. Yet her hat doesn't change Fred Weasley.
"So…" he finally concludes, reaching the doors of the castle.
Mallory realises that inside their separate lives will continue. No longer walking around the lake able to talk about nothing and yet joke about everything. Their house colours will continue to dictate who they can be in contact with and there will always be the threat of an elbow from Amara, sarcasm from Blaise and curious glances from Gryffindors.
"I suppose we'd best swap hats back," she says, removing the final piece of evidence of their time together, apart from the burning smile in her cheeks.
"But it's so comfy." He mopes, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout as he too, removes her own hat. "You should always wear this hat,"
"Really?" She asks as he places it back on her head, tugging so that it covers her unruly black curls.
"Yeah." He shrugs, removing his hands and glancing over his shoulder at the doors to the castle once more. "That way there's always a chance for me to steal it at any opportunity."
"Maybe next time I won't let it out of my sight," she retorts.
Quickly, he grabs the hat, causing her curls to bounce upwards as she cries out, trying to grab it from him.
"Looks like you need to work on your reflexes," he smirks at her, smug with his victory before pulling it back down on top of her head.
"Guess I'll see you soon." She says, taking one small step to the castle, away from their comforting bubble.
"Yeah," he says, though his brown eyes are still looking back towards the lake. It's the first time she's seen him look thoughtful, rather than plastering his face with animated smiles. Though he's still smiling, she can see the clear thought behind his eyes. "See you soon, Mallory."
She walks away first, wondering if he's waiting around to create an accepted distance between them. With a rumbling tummy, she realises she'll have to break into her Honeydukes birthday chocolates that Lucius and Narcissa had sent her at the beginning of the year. With a lonely trek back to the Slytherin Common Room, only catching sight of fellow Slytherins, and an overwhelming burden of questions within her mind, by the time she has reached her dormitory, Amara is burning with questions of her own.
"Where were you?"
"It was hard to find my hat in the dark."
"Were you alone?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Amara! Drop it!"
Amara closes her mouth, leaning against the green headboard of her bed, and scowls. Mallory feels guilty immediately within that moment, knowing that Amara is suspicious for all of the right reasons. She removes the hat, suppressing the smile as she remembers just minutes ago he'd been wearing it. Placing it back into her trunk and removing her care package of chocolate, she finds a box of bewitching butterscotches, and tosses them to the end of Amara's bed. Unfolding her arms and removing her scowl, Amara mutters her thanks and immediately dives into them.
"So, I spoke to Viktor Krum," she finally breaks the silence, casually popping a butterscotch into her mouth as Mallory bounds onto Amara's mattress.
"What?"
"So, there he was, eating his meal with the other Durmstrang students, and I was quite far down the table so I could hear their conversation. Obviously, he had girls constantly coming over to him," she rolls her eyes as she speaks, playing about with the golden wrapper of the butterscotch. "When I saw my opening, I leaned across the table and said 'well done today Viktor'."
"Then?"
"He said thanks."
She wants to shake Amara for her stupidity. How could she feel so excited over one word from Viktor Krum, when she could be bursting at the seams like Mallory for her entire conversation with Fred Weasley. Determined to prove to Amara that that conversation does not need such excitement, she almost reveals her entire evening.
"Want to stalk in the library tonight?" Amara asks, unwrapping another butterscotch and popping it into her house with ease. "Maybe he'll be there preparing for the next trial."
"Surely after facing a dragon all Viktor Krum wants is a hot, long bath?" Mallory jokes. "But I'm sure we can still go for it."
She wonders whether Fred Weasley would ever step foot in the library, so decides that her reasoning for entering the library this evening could be nothing to do with him. Amara shrugs, rolling onto her side to toss a butterscotch to Mallory.
"Nah. Let's just hang out." She leans forwards, grabbing onto Mallory's hand. "Gossip. Talk about boys that aren't Viktor Krum or a Weasley." Mallory nods, knowing that she will not be mentioning Fred Weasley anytime soon to Amara Carrow: pureblood and Slytherin. She pauses then, her bright smile disappearing for just a moment as the emerald hidden deep within Amara's eyes flashes. "You know you can always speak to me if there's anything you're worried about. Anything." She squeezes Mallory's hand as she repeats it. Mallory wonders if she's a legilimens and she already knows about her walk with Fred Weasley. She wonders what Amara may know about Mallory to know that there's something she needs to confess.
It isn't until hours later, and Mallory is lying beside Amara in Amara's bed, her auburn hair spread across silver pillows, tucking her chin into green sheets as she sleeps that she thinks back over Amara's words.
Her snores, small shuffles and sighs in her sleep, suddenly without a forced smile or an unexpected melancholy that Mallory wonders if Amara had meant to tell Mallory something that had been bothering her.