Chapter Seven: Bedmates and Broomsticks

Things only got worse for Harry as the year dragged on. Kai no longer followed him, but Harry could often see him glaring from the other side of the Gryffindor common room, eyes narrowed in thought. It worried him only a little; Harry'd faced more dangerous foes.

The first sign that Kai was making his move for revenge came only a few hours after their fight in the hallway. As Harry was trudging up to his room after quidditch practice, exhausted and splattered with mud, Hermione confronted him on the stairs. She had the familiar set to her shoulders that meant she wasn't pleased with him.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry said uncertainly. "Is there something the matter?"

"There certainly is," Hermione huffed. She moved a little awkwardly; after falling out of a three-story window the previous year, she was having difficulty moving her left shoulder. Harry watched her as she stepped down the stairs towards him. "What on earth has Kai ever done to you that you had to humiliate him in front of half the school?"

Harry dropped his broomstick. "What has he done to me? Only gotten me a week's worth of detention for all the trouble he got me into! He acts like he's too stupid to realize what he's doing, but he knows perfectly well! He's trying to get me expelled!"

"Harry Potter, how dare you accuse poor, simple Kai DuLamort of something like that!" Hermione shouted. "You should be ashamed! When I came into the dorm after Transfiguration, I found him in the corner, crying his poor broken heart out. All he wanted was to be your friend, Harry! And he tried so hard. So what do you do? You call him stupid and yell at him in the middle of a crowded hallway! He was inconsolable. He only just now cried himself to sleep."

"You actually believe all those lies?" Harry said incredulously. "You haven't got enough sense to fill a teaspoon!"

"At least I've got a heart," Hermione said coldly, and stomped up to her room. Harry sighed as she slammed her door. So Kai was trying to turn his friends against him. Harry knew it wouldn't work; Hermione would come to her senses eventually.

But as he passed Kai's closed door on the way to his own room, Harry could hear him sniffling inside, sobbing quietly. Leaning his broomstick against the wall, Harry stopped to listen for a moment, straining his ears.

"Oh, Kai, s'alright, he can be that way sometimes."

"I c-c-can't do an-nything right," Kai sobbed. "I just wanted him to like me."

All traces of guilt vanished from Harry's mind. He's at it again, he thought angrily. Trying to make me look like the bad guy. Well, it's not going to work.

"Shh, there there, Kai, you're plenty likable. Don't cry."

"You're just s-saying that."

"No, really. I like you."

A sniffle. "You do?"

"Of course I do. Come on, give me a smile."

"Thanks, Oliver."

Harry stiffened. Oliver Wood? What was Kai thinking? He wouldn't—but no, there was no matching Harry in quidditch, and Wood was too smart to jeopardize his chance at the quidditch cup by taking on Kai out of pity. With a smirk, Harry grabbed his broomstick and headed to his room.

**

Hermione couldn't sleep, not while she was still so mad at Harry. She decided to go down to the common room to do some extra homework; that usually relaxed her enough to go to sleep.

Yet when she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, a stack of books in her arms, she found she wasn't alone. Sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, reading an enormous old book, was William Fox, a boy in her grade who she'd only started to notice this year. Hermione stood stock-still, hoping William wouldn't notice her as she took in his appearance. The fire cast a golden glow over his smooth features, lighting up his serious eyes. He had his long hair bound in a braid that he slung over his shoulder, and he was brushing his fingers absentmindedly against the tip as he read. Hermione didn't realize that her books had been slipping from her grasp as she stared at him; he looked up with a start as they clattered to the floor.

"Oh! I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you—" Hermione stammered as she knelt and began to quickly gather up her books, but they kept jumping out of her shaking hands. Eventually William came over and picked them up for her, then handed them to her silently. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the fire, and a lock of his dark hair had come loose from his braid. It curved sensuously under his chin. "I'm sorry, I really am," Hermione said again, lifting her books and standing. "You—you looked so peaceful."

"It's fine," William said shortly, returning to his chair and opening his book once more.

Hermione found herself blushing, and she pulled up a chair next to his. Up close, he smelled like spearmint. "I—I came down here to study. I've always found it soothing," she said. God, that sounded stupid. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," William replied without looking at her.

Hermione giggled shrilly. "Oh! Oh of course you are. I mean, what are you reading?"

William wordlessly stuck a thumb in the pages of the book and showed her the cover. Hermione gasped in delight. It was Hogwarts: A History. "Oh, that's one of my favorites!" She exclaimed. "I must have read it hundreds of times."

William looked into her eyes for the first time, genuinely interested. "Have you? I'm trying to learn more about the school. Do you know much?"

"Oh, I know practically everything," she told him. "Ask me anything."

William smiled at her.

**

Draco, too, was awake that night, pretending to study while Kenneth kept an eye on him. Where are you? Draco wrote slowly. I miss you.

Draco's vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. When he wiped them away, he saw that more writing had appeared on his paper, spidery and elegant: I am near. I can feel you.

With a gasp, Draco dropped his pencil. Kenneth looked in his direction, but Draco didn't show him the message. He wanted the conversation to be private. Trying to steady his trembling fingers, Draco wrote: Please come back.

I am here, was the reply. I will be with you soon.

Please hurry, Draco wrote quickly. I want to be with you again. Hurry.

The next message appeared slowly and deliberately, as if it was being written with the utmost care. Where is Nuncio?

I don't know, Draco wrote, dismayed. Was that all Kiyoshi wanted?

Is he close?

Yes, I think so.

Tomorrow night, came the message, I will come to you. Wait for me.

I will, Draco wrote so quickly that the words were barely legible. I love you.

No more words appeared; the messenger was gone. Draco folded the paper carefully and brought it lovingly to his lips. Tomorrow night, I will come to you. Wait for me.

Wait for me…

**

Gaijin stood in the garish yellow light of a streetlamp, brow furrowed in concentration. He looked barely older than twelve, but there was a gleam in his eyes that betrayed his innocent appearance. He carried a golden staff that was a foot longer than he was, tipped with a lethal-looking blade in the shape of a crescent moon. He wore blue and white silk robes embroidered with mystical symbols, and his right hand was hidden inside a silk sleeve that reached nearly to the ground. His left hand and arm shone bare in the light.

The pressure around him seemed to lessen, and Gaijin relaxed with a sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. He flexed his grip on his staff, then looked out into the darkness beyond the circle of yellow light he stood in. "It is done, O Grey."

"Very good, my child. Have you found Nuncio's whereabouts?"

"No my lord, but I will soon. I will see the boy tomorrow night, and search the school for Nuncio." Gaijin frowned slightly. "My lord…"

"Yes, Gaijin?"

Gaijin looked down at the pavement he stood upon. "While seeking out Nuncio's boy, I felt another presence there."

"Whose?" The Grey asked curiously.

"I know not, O Grey. But the pattern was similar to that of the Creature who stole Nuncio from us." Gaijin looked back into the darkness. "Similar, but not exact."

The Grey seemed to ponder this a moment. "Do you think it a threat?"

"No."

"Then we will pay it no mind for now. Come children, we must make haste. Gaijin mustn't miss his… appointment."

The streetlight winked out, plunging Gaijin into darkness.