~.~.~.~.~
The library was bustling in the middle of October on a Tuesday night. It was almost closing time, but the place was packed with students of all ages, frantically finishing up their assignments. Madam Pince was, I bet, in heaven listening to all the scratching quills and the turning of reference pages.
I was in my favourite seat in a secluded nook by the back. It was only large enough for one person, and it faced the window. Like the others in the room, I was scribbling furiously, but unlike them, I wasn't doing homework.
After finishing my reply on the charmed paper, I waited for Malfoy's response.
You really invented a hex for that? He wrote, and I could just hear him snickering. Remind me never to get you angry.
What about you? What spells are you best at casting?
Guess, he challenged me.
Charms, obviously. Glamours.
His reply this time was delayed a bit, as if he had either been interrupted or was considering what to write back. He opted for brevity.
Go on.
Stunners.
I was recalling how easily he'd taken down McLaggen a few weeks back, and realised I was grinning like a loon at the memory when his reply finally appeared on the paper after another delay.
You forgot my best spell of all.
It took a moment for me to understand what he was referring to.
Yes, this is a clever invention you have here. I have to wonder how you charmed the parchment so it only responds to you and me, however. No one else seems to see anything we write on it.
I knew because Professor McGonagall had caught me writing on it in class one day, but when she'd used a Revelio Charm upon it to call up its secrets, nothing had appeared. It seemed to be resistant to such spells.
What spell did you use? I persisted, truly interested in how he'd accomplished such an advanced piece of magic.
What would you say if I told you it's not a spell to be found in books, but…elsewhere?
I considered that.
An oral tradition, you mean? Passed down through ancient families, like yours?
Passed down, yes, but not exactly in the way you're thinking, he replied.
Could you be any less vague?
Here, there was another lengthy pause before his reply.
What if I told you it's a kind of magic born from the stars and conveyed in dreams, he asked and I thought it was very likely that he was making a joke about my well-known dislike for Divination.
Very poetic. I'd say you're starting to sound like Trelawney.
I could almost hear him sighing at my sass.
Fine. It's just a series of spells layered together and attuned to our magical auras, he confessed.
Connecting us magically, you mean? But that would require you had access to my blood…
The lighthearted nature of this form of communication was suddenly suspect, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd been played a jape after all, but for a much darker purpose than even I'd suspected. Was it even Malfoy I'd been talking to all this time?
His answer was delayed by several minutes, during which time I contemplated packing things up and burning the parchment, severing all ties to whoever was on the other end.
Finally I received an answer.
Protean Charm combined with a Fidelius Charm would also do the trick. Quite effective in connecting two things and in keeping others from discovering its secret.
That sounded plausible.
Ingenious, really.
Still, I felt shaken by doubt now that it had reared its ugly head. There was only one way to reassure myself.
Come to the place where I discovered your secret. We need to talk face-to-face. Tonight. Eleven o'clock.
That's after curfew, he rightly reminded me.
I was willing to take the risk.
You're a Prefect. Make it happen. I have to go, the library's closing. See you in two hours.
~.~.~
At eleven o'clock sharp, he was waiting for me in the Prefect's bathroom alright.
Naked, surrounded by colourful bubbles in the big tub, he gave me a naughty smile as I walked in and stopped on a Sickle at the sight of him enjoying a bath. His wings were fully visible, as he'd removed the glamour on them.
"You said make it happen," he explained as I crossed my arms and glared down at him. "I simply made the excuse that I was stiff after practice earlier and needed a long, hot soak. The things people in this castle will let you get away with in the name of Quidditch… So, here I am, at your command, my lady."
I sighed at his insolence. "You're shameless."
"Just figuring that out, are you?" He playfully splashed some water my way, but I stepped easily out of the path and avoided my shoes getting wet. "Now, what was so urgent you couldn't wait to get me here and see me with my clothes off?"
Rolling my eyes, I knelt down so I wouldn't be yelling things in a room that had a tendency to echo, even with a Muffliato cast at its door to mute the sound. I noticed Malfoy's eyes automatically dropped to my bared knees. I gave him an arch look and covered them with my arms as I hunched down.
"Tell me the truth: is it you behind the parchment or someone else? Are you tricking me into letting my guard down so you can humiliate me later? I should warn you not to lie about this. I can handle the truth, but a lie… I can't forgive that." I pointed my wand at the water where he stood. "A simple Lightning Hex and your innards will be boiling for the next month, and there is no pain potion to take for it. Choose wisely which way you step next."
I watched his eye widen with astonishment, but I sensed no fear or deceit from him when he said, "It's only for you and me, I swear! No one else knows. No one else can see."
"How did you accomplish that without my blood for the spell?"
"Your hands…you were bleeding the night McLaggen accosted you."
Yes, I had been. It's why I'd headed for the Hospital Wing in the first place. "You collected it from the floor where it dripped?"
He nodded.
Huh.
"Clever," I conceded.
"Thanks." He brushed some bubbles around him. "Now that we've settled that… You can be quite scary, you know."
I shrugged. "Why do you think they booted me from Beauxbatons?"
His smirk was filled with wicked approval. "Care to join me, love? There's plenty of room for two."
I stood up and brushed my uniform back into place, removing the wrinkles. "Far be it for me to come between you and your ego, then. Ta-ta."
His laughter followed me to the door.
"Oh, and Malfoy, if I find you are playing me for the fool," I warned him over my shoulder, all joking aside, "I can be much more creative than a simple Lightning Hex…as you already know."
"Threats aren't conducive to actually forming an alliance, you know," he said with a sensual laugh, completely unconcerned with the threat of having his insides twisted around like balloon animals. That was what convinced me at last that he wasn't using the parchment as a means to ferret out my secrets for Parkinson's later use. "How are we to become good friends at this rate?"
After sneaking back into my dormitory in the dungeon, behind my closed and warded curtains I took up the parchment once more, deeming it safe to continue this odd new friendship with someone who should be, by all rights, my enemy. Perhaps there was some kind of poetic irony there I should examine later, but at that moment all I could do was recall his rather romantic sounding jest that our connection was somehow preordained by the cosmos. It was foolishness, of course, but there had been a piece of me that had found it a charming flattery nonetheless.
Dipping my quill into my precariously balanced ink pot, I wrote upon the paper a final message for the evening to him:
Draco,
To the people who look at the stars and wish…
Good night.
The next morning, I found he'd written me a return message:
Granger,
To the stars who listen — and the dreams that are answered.
Good morning.
TO BE CONTINUED...
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Lines borrowed from "A Court of Thorns and Roses" series and altered for this chapter's use:
"The first," I clarified, "doesn't sound conducive to actually forming an alliance."
– Feyre, A Court of Wings and Ruin
"To the people who look at the stars and wish…"
- Feyre, A Court of Mist and Fury
"To the stars who listen — and the dreams that are answered."
- Rhysand, A Court of Mist and Fury