A/N: A fluff chapter because Melody needs a life outside of Draco's weirdness, and it's about time I properly introduced her roommates, besides.
Rumors flew through Hogwarts faster than owls. Theories of who had attacked Katie ranged from Voldemort to Dumbledore and everyone in between. Melody still didn't know what to think about the whole debacle. She wanted to believe that Draco had nothing to do with it, but there was a lingering doubt in the way he refused eye contact when talking about it. He knew something. He'd overheard something in the Slytherin Common room, maybe, or Snape had let something slip. He had turned up the morning after he'd pushed her out of the astronomy classroom, acting like nothing had happened. Melody went along with it, but she watched his every move, and studied every word. Since then, she had seen less and less of him; he faithfully came to every Transfiguration class, but rarely showed at mealtimes anymore. Melody tried not to let it bother her, but she had gotten used to his presence, and the absence of it was like a hole she couldn't stop staring at.
It wasn't all bad, though. With Draco not sucking up all of her spare time, Melody was able to spend more time with her roommates, who, nice as they were, had pretty well split into friend groups before Melody had ever started. Luckily, with midterms looming, Mandy, the self-appointed leader of the sixth-year girls' dormitory, had scheduled extra study sessions each night of the week. Each girl was assigned an evening and subject, except for Sue, who acted as secretary and kept track of notes, homework, and deadlines.
Melody took charge of Transfiguration on Thursdays, which suited her just fine. Transfiguration seemed to come more readily to her than the others, and she didn't mind coaching her fellow students on wand technique and the importance of visualization. Whether this was due to the fact that Professor McGonagall had taken special care in her correspondence-crash-course in that summer before Melody arrived at Hogwarts, or from some innate ability, Melody didn't know. She did know that despite extra tutoring from Mrs. Malfoy, who was quite a talented Potioneer herself, Professor Snape's approach of relentless quizzing without actual teaching left her Potions grades in the gutter.
Melody set out her supplies, her notes from this week's class neatly written in Sue's perfect print laid out on the table. They were studying inanimate to animate transfiguration this term, and they had graduated from turning teacups into mice to changing paper into birds. Melody laid out a stack of practice paper in the center.
In pairs, the other girls filtered in, Mandy and Sue early, Betsey and Terry-who wasn't properly a girl, but wasn't an unwelcome or unexpected addition, either- arrived at eight on the dot, and Evelyn and Padma shuffled in eight minutes later, whispering about something behind their hands.
Melody didn't have a chance to get annoyed before Mandy admonished the duo for being late.
"Honestly, you two!" she said, "Once in a while, fine, but that's every day this week! What could possibly be more important than being here on time?"
She fixed Padma with a glare, and Melody wondered if Mandy was jealous that the irresponsible Padma had gotten the Prefect position over her.
"We just find it odd," Evelyn started, a smirk on her face.
"That trouble seems to follow Potter around," Padma added.
"I mean, nothing ever happened at Hogwarts until he came along, and suddenly-" Evelyn continued, their thoughts so intertwined there was no gap in their explanation.
"I mean, look at the facts," Padma said, "First year, the whole Quirrel-mort thing, Second year, giant snake, third year, convicted felon."
"Fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament, which was a complete disaster in many ways, fifth year, well, we were all there." Evelyn pursed her lips, looking at Padma.
"So we dug into it, and found some interesting…coincidences," Padma said, pulling rumpled sheet of paper from her pocket.
"First up: Basilisk. The most obvious and hard to explain. Potter's a Parselmouth, which is an exceedingly rare genetic gift. How odd for the basilisk to resurface once Potter's going to school here, and how odd that the 'spirit of Tom Riddle'," Padma put in air quotes, "Decided to possess Harry's best friend's little sister."
"Sweet Ginny," Evelyn interjected, "She's the victim here,"
"OR IS SHE?" Padma said theatrically. She looked around at the table of dubious faces. "Nah, she is. Potter is suspicious, though. Did you know," she referenced her notes, "That You-Know-Who started the Death Eaters while he was still in school? Who else do you know has organized a student army?"
"This is ridiculous," Terry interrupted, "We were all in the D.A."
"Were?" Padma asked, "You think it's disbanded? You think there wouldn't be a resurgence if there needed to be?"
"I feel like we should probably study this bird thing, huh?" Melody tried to get her session back on track. It fell on deaf ears.
"And another thing," Evelyn ignored Melody, "Potter was right behind Katie when she got cursed-"
"That's enough!" Mandy shouted, slamming her palms on the table, "I have had it with the rumors and the crackpot theories! If you two don't have anything meaningful to contribute, then get out of here so the rest of us can get to work!"
Padma's face dropped. She stuffed her notes back into her pocket and disappeared up the dormitory stairs.
"That was harsh," Evelyn huffed before following her friend.
Melody glanced around the table at the spoiled mood. She cleared her throat.
"So, actually, I think the birds are going to be easier than the mice, especially since the paper can already kind of flap like a bird. If everyone wants to grab a paper to start practicing-"
She stopped short as Terry left the table.
"Um," she said, watching him plop down at the chess table where Corner was. Strange that Melody hadn't noticed the other boy sitting there, but he must have been there the whole time since she hadn't noticed any movement from that side of the room. Did he want to join the study group? Wrinkles creasing between her eyebrows, she realized that he had been present all week, but not sitting at the table.
"Anyway," she pressed on, making a mental note to ask Betsey to ask Terry to ask Michael if he wanted to join in once everybody calmed down, "I've got notes here, about the wand movement, but it's essentially the same as the mice. Like McGonagall always says, Transfiguration is more about intent."
Melody ended the meeting early, after Betsey's attempt at a bird turned out more like a paper airplane and flew directly into the fireplace. Even Mandy didn't have an objection, her mood as soured as any. She offered to help Melody pack up, but Melody just shook her head.
"I don't think you should have said that to Padma," she murmured to Mandy, scooping up the failed paper bits. Mandy bit her lip, her cheeks turning pink.
"I meant it," she said, "I mean, you of all people know how rumors can hurt people, and she was just spouting off about Potter like he's evil or something."
"Not what you said," Melody explained, "But you were really mean about it. She's just worried about Katie, you know. Like all of us."
Mandy's shoulders sagged and she let out a long sigh as she pushed her chair in.
"You're right. I should apologize."
Melody handed Sue her notes to copy down for the others, and gathered up her things. It looked like Betsey had convinced Terry to take a walk before curfew, and Melody hoped that he wouldn't hold a grudge against Padma. She'd meant what she told Mandy, but Padma had raised some interesting points. She wondered what Draco would think of it all.
"Ahem."
The sound made Melody nearly jump out of her skin. She'd thought she was alone, with most of the girls upstairs and Betsey out talking Terry out of a rage. Her armful of supplies scattered across the floor, her inkwell rolling under the couch. How had she forgotten that Michael was still here? Maybe she'd assumed he'd gone with Betsey.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Michael said, "I was trying not to startle you, actually."
"It's fine," Melody said, shuffling her pages back together, "I just wasn't paying attention, that's all."
He retrieved her quills, which had floated to the floor far more gracefully than the rest of the materials, and knelt down beside her as she surveyed the mess under the couch.
"You don't suppose anyone is going to notice that giant ink stain, do you?" Melody asked.
Michael crawled over and looked.
"That's a historical ink stain. Rowena Ravenclaw did that when she made the breakthrough on the diadem. Threw her arms up and spilled her ink."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Melody giggled.
"Ah, well," Michael shrugged, drawing his wand, "Scourgify!"
The ink disappeared, leaving the empty well. Michael scooped it up and offered it to Melody.
"Thank you," Melody said, setting everything on the table and sorting it out so she could hold it all. She looked up to see Michael standing there, awkwardly watching her.
"Er," he said, "Do you need some help?"
"I've got it, but thanks."
"How about breakfast?"
"What?"
"Breakfast, tomorrow. I'll walk down with you, if you want."
It an unexpected request, though not an unwelcome one, and Melody couldn't stop a sudden pounding in her chest. Was this a proposition for a date? What kind of a date was breakfast? Then again, it wasn't really like they could go anywhere else. With Hogsmeade trips cancelled for the rest of the year, Madame Puddifoot's was off the table.
Also, what if it wasn't a date thing and it was a friend thing? Why did her mind go to date thing first? Was that what she wanted? A friend thing was fine, but how was she supposed to know the difference just from 'How about breakfast'?
"Oh," said Melody, puzzling out what it all meant, "I…sure. That would be…cool."
A lopsided grin spread across Michael's face.
"Cool," he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the surface of the table, "I'll pick you up at eight."
Melody could feel heat rise to her cheeks. Pick her up at eight? That certainly sounded date-like. She gripped her papers for stability. Was she supposed to flirt, to show interest? Was she interested? She'd never had the opportunity presented before, and besides, her double course load ensured that she had no time for boys. But that was last year; she was all caught up now. She had time.
"It's a date," she said, possibly a bit too loud, but who could tell over the beating of her pulse? She managed to get around the bend of the dormitory stairs before sprinting up to her room. She had a date!
