Chapter 10 – Why Does She Have to be Right?

Part 37 – Quidditch

"Drace, the Quidditch team list is up!"

"Good for you, Mia."

"Hey, it says I made it! Fwee!"

"Fwee?"

"Fwee," Meega said firmly.

"Keeper?"

"Nope. Seeker. Of course it's Keeper! Well . . . Reserve Keeper. I think they have something against having girls actually on the team."

"Of course. What did you expect?"

Meega glared at Draco. "I don't know . . . maybe this little thing called equality?"

"Meega, it's a little more old-fashioned in here. Our females are expected to be . . . well . . . demure. You playing Quidditch will be looked down on by some, but most of us tolerate it, as long as the girls aren't on the actual team."

"Oh. That's interesting. I thought the Gryffindors were the 'chivalrous' ones."

"That depends what you mean by 'chivalry.' They're the protectors of the weak, but we take traditional views on roles. Men are providers and protectors, women nurture and are . . . er . . . decorative. We don't usually admit how intelligent they are, at least publicly, but we know women aren't stupid. That would be a little dangerous."

"Un-huh."

"Slytherin is also the house where arranged marriages are most common, though they don't always go through. Our parents would rather have us marry someone they don't approve of as much as our betrothed than go through the scandal of a divorce."

Meega shook her head, looking disbelieving. "Drace, I think this entire house might have issues."

"We do, Mia. Of one sort or another, we do."

Part 38 – Er . . . Wrong Date

"But Draco, she's a Mudblood!"

Draco gave Pansy a withering look. "If you weren't a girl I'd curse you for that."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Your father will never approve," she hissed, her glare shooting daggers at the handsome blonde boy. "Besides, we are betrothed."

"Not any more—or didn't your parents tell you? Father ended the deal when you dumped me for Crabbe. We haven't been betrothed for over a month."

Pansy sniffed angrily. "I explained the matter to my parents and they said that your father would understand why I would be upset about you mooning over her."

"If I remember correctly, you were eyeing the other guys first, and you were the one who suggested we go to the ball with new people, and you were the one who dumped me—very publicly at that. My father knows very well that I would never take you back after that. We are through, Pansy, by your own choice. Permanently."

Draco turned regally to walk away and Pansy, who looked about ready to spit fire, pulled her wand out, pointing it at him.

"Drace, look out!"

Draco ducked just in time to dodge Pansy's spell, whirling back around to catch her wrist. He glared at Pansy, who looked suddenly scared. "Don't try that again, or I might forget you're supposed to be a lady." He threw down her wrist, snapping it in a way that threw her wand across the floor. "Get out of my sight . . . and stay gone."

Draco turned his back on her again, walking over to Meega. "Thank you," he said softly.

"What are friends for, if not to watch each other's backs?"

The two Slytherins held each other's gaze s for a moment before bursting into laughter. When they finally stopped laughing Draco looked thoughtful.

"You were right, you know. Except for one thing."

"What?"

"Today's the seventeenth."

Part 39 – The 3rd and Final Reason Not to Flirt with a Death Eater's Son

Four days after the episode with Pansy, Draco and Meega were sitting in the deserted common room. Their flufglow were playing with Bageria and Sirius, and Nevermore was off delivering a letter for Meega. The two humans, half-sprawled on one of the couches in front of the fire, were talking while they watched their pets play.

"It'll be the Falcons, Meega. Who else could it be?"

"Puddlemore United? The Harpies?"

Draco gave a derisive snort. "The Falcons will win, Meega. Just remember that I've been following Quidditch a lot longer than you have."

"I can tell you who will be last!"

"And who's that?"

"Chudley Cannons. If it was anyone else they'd immediately become the laughingstock."

Draco laughed. "Exactly. Now all we have to do is convince Weasley that they're never going to win."

"I don't know . . . they might if Harry got amnesia, forgot that they're the worst team in history, and started playing for them. However, if we told Ron that he might try it."

Both Slytherins started laughing, Meega collapsing onto Draco's shoulder. Draco's laughter slowly died, and he gently turned Meega's chin with his thumb, looking down into her topaz eyes. Her laughter ceased as she looked back into his suddenly serious storm-gray eyes, uncertainty in her own.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, and then he lowered his mouth over hers.

This time Meega wasn't caught as much by surprise, but she was surprised that she felt no urge to push Draco away. His kiss felt surprisingly good, his lips moving gently over hers. Eventually Draco pulled away, looking away from Meega.

"Slap me if you wish. Make me promise never to do that again. I had to this once. I had to know . . . what it was like . . . to really kiss you." When he finished speaking he looked up, clearly expecting to see Meega glaring at him. He was not prepared for Meega looking slightly breathless, clearly amazed, and a little wondering.

"I'd never do that, Draco," Meega said softly. "I only slapped you last time because you startled me, and I wasn't ready to think of you like that. I think . . . I think I could now."

Draco looked confused. Whatever had just happened, he had not been expecting it and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "You mean you don't mind? I was afraid that you'd never speak to me again."

"You must have really wanted to kiss me to risk being all alone again. And as for the kiss . . . I liked it. I wouldn't really mind doing it again."

There was nothing for Draco to do about that statement except grin and lower his mouth over Meega's again, this time a little more boldly.

Part 40 – Securing the Book

At breakfast, conversation was always interrupted by the mail being delivered. The students were used to the owls flying in like silent wraiths to deliver their messages. What they were not used to, however, was the loud caw that announced the entry of a huge dark shadow seeking its mistress.

Nevermore cawed again, settling on the back of Meega's chair just behind her left shoulder, dropping his package beside her plate.

"Thank you, lovely," Meega murmured, handing the raven some bacon, which he happily gobbled. "Greedy." The raven cawed again, and this time it sounded like a laugh. "Go on, get."

As Nevermore flew off, Meega turned her attention to the parcel he had delivered. Opening it, she grinned as she saw what it contained.

"What are you grinning at?"

"This," Meega said simply, handing Draco the parcel, wrapping and all.

"You did it," Draco gaped. In his hands was a red leather bound book bearing the golden title Hogwarts' Unwritten History: The Marauder Years. "I can't believe you actually did it!"

"All it took was a little blackmail," Meega said innocently.

Draco gave her a startled look, then burst out laughing. "I wondered where my black paper was getting off to."

"Actually, I just used regular parchment for my letters to Sirius, and I didn't actually have to blackmail him. Your black paper is becoming a flock of black paper cranes. I'm determined to make a thousand."

"Dare I ask why you want to make a thousand black paper cranes?"

"Because there's a legend in the Orient that says that if you make a thousand paper cranes and make a wish when you finish the last one they will carry the wish away on their wings and it will come true. I wanted to see if that would work. If it doesn't, then I'll have one thousand pretty black paper cranes to hang all over my dorm room."

Draco laughed again. "What are you planning on wishing for?"

Meega suddenly looked all together too serious to be taken seriously and simply said, "Wings."