XXV:

"What are you working on?"

Dorothea glanced up from her loom at the unfamiliar voice. A dark-haired boy with a pleasant, open face was standing beside the couch where she had brought her work to do some weaving before dinner. Dorothea tried and failed, to place a name to his face. Damnit. Why hadn't Harry at least bothered to learn about the other boys at Hogwarts? This boy was in her year group, but Dorothea had been too busy acclimating to learn about everyone in the first week. Plus, the Ravenclaw boys seemed to form a pretty tight-knit group that wasn't keen on interacting with the female portion of their class. Maybe it was a wizarding thing? Maybe it was because they were all pre-teens.

Still, that was no excuse to be rude. Dorothea put on a friendly smile and pulled her loom away to display the maze design she was still working on. Hogwarts had proved to be less amenable to long stretches spent on crafts than Nott keep. "It's a study project," She explained, "Learning to work with different colors."

"Looks complicated," The boy said, taking a seat on the couch beside her. Dorothea tensed at the sudden intrusion. Was this boy also looking to become engaged? But he seemed to be wholly focused on the weaving. "I like the color choices."

"Thank you," She said, "My brother helped me choose them."

"Did he?" The boy asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have figured Nott was interested in anything like this."

Dorothea bristled at the perceived slight against her brother. "Actually, Theo is a fantastic artist. He has an absolute knack for the magical properties of colors and how to apply them to the fiber arts-"

"Really?" The boy interrupted. "That's brilliant. I'm a painter."

Morag passed by at that moment and the normally reserved girl raised her hand in a quick greeting. Dorothea returned it with a grin and then refocused on the friendly boy who was currently diving into the merits of magical vs muggle paints.

"- not nearly enough variety," He was saying, "So I'm looking to see if I can enchant my own colors and create a wider range for the public. It's really a pity the wizards don't focus more on the arts, don't you think? I mean, you grew up with Muggles. You must miss it."

"Not all Muggles appreciate artistic expression," Dorothea said, thinking back to the pointedly bland artwork Aunt Petunia used to adorn her living room.

"Well, my mum's family do," The boy said with a shrug, "And I've been to loads of Muggle art museums and galleries but there's not a single gallery in Diagon Alley. Just the Portraiture studio and then you need Sacred 28 levels of money to afford that." The boy laughed and then colored when he remembered who he was talking to, but Dorothea was distracted.

"What do you think a magical gallery would look like?" She asked. The answer to that question led to a lively conversation that lasted them through the walk to dinner. At the doors to the Great Hall, the boy gave Dorothea an enthusiastic handshake and then broke away to go sit with his other friends.

Since dinner seating arrangements were more strictly enforced than breakfast or lunch, Dorothea took a seat at the Ravenclaw table and was surprised when Morag took a seat beside her. The dark-haired girl tended to keep to herself at meal times. Dorothea was even more surprised when Morag initiated a conversation.

"You looked like you were having a good conversation with Boot."

"Boot?" Dorothea asked, wondering if that was an unfortunate nickname.

"Terry Boot," Morag nodded down the table to where the friendly boy was chatting animatedly with the blond, curly-haired boy beside him. Oh, so that was his name. Dorothea had been amused how Boot hadn't bothered to introduce himself before their conversation. After a moment, Morag added in an oddly tense voice. "He's a half-blood."

"I gathered," Dorothea said, wondering why Morag had bothered to point out that fact. The boy was pretty open about his connection to the muggle world and Dorothea had gleaned that his mother was a muggle-born while his father was from a long line of half-bloods who regularly interacted with the muggle world.

Then a cold realization hit her and she gave Morag a sharp glance, "I trust that isn't a problem for you." She said. After all, even though Morag had never shown any prejudice, she was also of a pureblood line. If she thought a Nott would be a good person to commiserate about muggle-borns, she was sorely mistaken. Harry's mother had been a muggle-born and Hermione was still the most brilliant witch Dorothea knew, so she would brook no such talk around her. But instead of bristling, Morag let her shoulders drop.

"No. Not at all." She said, reaching forward to fill up her plate with slices of roast beef. "I'm just surprised you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" Dorothea asked lightly, serving herself some asparagus spears, "I was raised by Muggles after all. Plus, Boot is nice. I think I'm going to introduce him to my brother."

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Padma and Mandy, the latter of whom was discussing their new study group plan in great detail. "I mean, it's never too early to start preparing for our OWLS," She said.

"OWLS?" Dora asked. "Aren't those for fifth years?" She'd heard some of the older students discussing the tests that would be held at the end of the year, but second year seemed awfully early to start reviewing. Morag seemed to share her confusion and shrugged.

"Oh my gosh! I didn't realize we'd be overheard." Mandy gushed. Dorothea suppressed an eye roll lest she lose one of her first allies in Ravenclaw. "I mean. Most people aren't. But our study group is and I would totally, normally love to invite you, Dorothea, but we've been studying all year and are just so tight-knit. it just doesn't feel right to include someone else."

Dorothea, who had not been looking for an invitation, just nodded. "That's fine," She said, cutting her asparagus into bite-sized pieces, "I'll just study with Theo." Speaking of her brother. Dorothea glanced over to the Slytherin table where her fellow second-years were sitting in icy, awkward silence. She'd been hoping to catch Theo's eye, but instead met Draco's gaze. The boy gave her a hopeful look and Dorothea sighed to herself. She really needed to decide what to do with Draco.

. . . . .

By breakfast the next day, Dorothea had decided on her course of action. First things first, she approached Padma in their shared bathroom while the other Ravenclaw was running a brush through her long hair.

"Padma, is there a place where I could speak to someone privately?"

Padma exchanged a delighted glance in the mirror with Mandy, who was washing a thick mask off her face. Whatever she said today, Dorothea suspected, would be spread across the entire school by lunchtime. She'd need to watch her words carefully. Still, there were worse things than remaining at the center of gossip for a little while longer, especially if it meant people weren't wondering where Harry Potter was hiding. Yesterday, the Daily Prophet had sported an article about a mysterious sighting of the Boy Who Lived in the foothills of Nepal!

"Well, there are rooms available for the older students," Padma said, setting down her brush. Her brow furrowed as she thought carefully through the options. Padma was a precise girl, Dorathea decided. Slow to act and deliberate in her planning, but is rarely found unprepared or surprised. It wasn't a bad trait even if Dorathea wished she would hurry in some of her answers.

"Only older students?" She prompted.

"I think so," Padma said, "They are courting rooms. If a sixth or seventh-year student decides to begin accepting suitors before they graduate, they need a place to meet that is private enough for such conversations."

Interesting, Dorathea thought as she filed the fact away. Maybe it wasn't so surprising that Draco and Pansy were engaged. Not if sixteen was considered a fair age to begin courting for marriage. "Well, I certainly don't need a courting room. Just somewhere to have a conversation that isn't the common room or great hall. And is more formal than an empty classroom."

It wouldn't do to have a conversation with Draco where just anyone could wander in.

"What about reserving a private study room?"

….

Second things second, Dorothea turned to her books. Seeing as she was meeting with Draco and didn't want to tip her hand, she couldn't rely on Madame Malfoy's advice like normal. Luckily, books didn't let her down. An old reference tomb that she recognized from the Malfoy library told her that robin's egg blue was the correct color of parchment to summon someone after a disagreement. Paired with bright yellow ink, the letter would convey a willingness to forgive but infuse with the scent of jasmine would warn that such consideration was not certain. Dorothea noted all these details, then went off in search of an upperclassman who could teach her the right color-changing charms.

Draco's response had been immediate. Rather than wait for the morning owl delivery, a first-year Slytherin- a Burke to judge by the nose- had interrupted the Ravenclaw's charm class to deliver a spring green letter. While the first year was given a talking-to by Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw girls had flocked around Dorothea as she opened the letter. The green of the letter bled onto her fingers and Dorothea made a note that she would need to speak to Draco about the consistency of his charms. She shouldn't be able to leave fingerprints in the letter. Still, it had been gratifying to receive a response. The color of the letter and ink spoke of fervent hope and a willingness to make amends.

Dorothea spent the rest of the charms class debating how best to decorate the private study room for their upcoming conversation the next day.