Author's Note: Thanks for your patience! You guys are awesome. What's even more awesome is that so far, no one's guessed any of the pairings for this story XD As you can imagine, we're feeling pretty happy with ourselves at the moment (grins devilishly)

Also, this chapter is slightly shorter than the others because the last few have been super long, we decided to give you guys a bit of a break. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks


CHAPTER 11: BITTERSWEET

The last couple of days at school were the most spotlight Draco could handle. Everywhere he went, everyone seemed to be whispering only about one thing—him and Alice. Well, at least that's what they were whispering about and not about…other things…anymore. Still, Draco felt oddly strange when he was passing by the seventh floor corridor one day and Severus called out to him from where he was sitting. Draco hesitated before approaching him. He was very careful about how he walked and how he spoke. He didn't need any more rumours flying about him, so he was careful not to give Severus the wrong impression about anything. He was also not keen on confronting him about it or anything like that. Draco didn't need that kind of level of awkward in his life...at least not now.

"Yeah, what's up?" he asked in his pathetic attempt to sound casual.

"Sit down," said Severus, moving his clutter of books so that Draco could sit.

"I…" said Draco, glancing over his shoulder at the deserted corridor behind him. "I actually have some things to do at the library."

"Do them here," said Severus. "Go on, sit down."

Draco sighed and dropped his schoolbag to the ground before taking a seat. Severus looked strangely happy, and as Draco watched him, he wondered… could Lily have actually let down her guard and finally talked to him?

"So," said Severus. "You and Liddell, huh?"

"Y-yeah," said Draco. "Pretty much."

"Nice," said Severus, still looking pleased.

Draco frowned at him, and now found himself wondering whether Severus could be the gay one. Well if he was, he was certainly not going to say anything about it. But then, Draco shrugged it out of his mind and decided not to go there again. The look on Severus' face when Lily had turned him down again and again during their late night conversations was not the look of a gay person. It was the look of a person hopelessly in love with a person from another world completely.

"How did you two happen?" Severus asked after a moment's silence.

"I dunno," shrugged Draco. "We've been flirting back and forth for a while now…I just decided to make it official finally."

"I'll say," said Severus, grinning. "Good for you, though."

"Yeah," said Draco. He glanced at the book in Severus' lap. "So, how's the Half Blood Prince's book going?"

And then, all time seemed to freeze over. Severus frowned at Draco, and Draco found himself itching to curse out loud…or throw James' invisibility cloak over himself…or borrow one of those time turners the ministry stored.

"How did you know about the name?" Severus breathed, still frowning at Draco.

"Y-you must've mentioned it to me," Draco claimed.

"No I didn't," Severus contradicted.

"No, you did!" Draco exclaimed. "I remember very well because you told me and I laughed and asked why the hell it's prince and then you said it's because of your mother's name."

He said this very quickly, and he could feel his heart racing again. He only hoped that Severus wouldn't hear it through Draco's panic. But Severus' eyes only seemed to have widened just a bit before he nodded.

"Yeah, I suppose I must've told you then," he muttered. "Sorry, I just…forgot."

"No, that's fine," said Draco, quickly.

They sat in silence for the next little while, both of them working on different homework assignments. But for the most part, Draco watched Severus curiously. He wasn't sure if it was just him…but Severus looked as though he had recovered from some sort of illness. He didn't look exactly cured, but something about him had changed in the last couple of days…

"Anything you wanna talk about?" Draco blurted out, and Severus looked up at him.

"Not at all," he said, confused.

"You just look like you have a lot on your mind," Draco observed.

Severus stared at him for a long time before he sighed and closed up his book.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, quietly. "I've just…been thinking a lot lately…about old times a-and—"

"Lily," Draco concluded.

Severus looked up at him.

"It's okay," said Draco. "It's not like it's a crime for you to think about her. She was your best friend, you know."

"Yeah," said Severus. "I know. But you don't. You weren't there."

"Fine," said Draco, looking back down at his book.

Even without looking Severus, he could tell that the boy was wondering how he'd managed to just brush that off easily. Clearly, he was well experienced when it came to handling Slytherins.

That night at dinner, Draco buried his face in the Daily Prophet and tried hard not to think about how everyone was staring at him. He and Alice had talked the other night and had agreed to try this dating thing out…though, even Draco wasn't stupid not to see that she was only doing this to get Frank jealous. He, however, was at least not planning to have Draco's head for this.

"Look, it's none of my business," he'd told him when Draco had asked him about it. "Seriously, good for you, man. She's an excellent choice."

Draco had thought it was a pretty mature approach, and instantly gained more respect for Frank because of it. But the staring and the whispering was provoking Draco even more, and it wasn't long before he found himself wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into by kissing Alice in front of a crowd like that. He had to admit it wasn't the smartest thing he'd done in the last month.

The Marauders all seemed to be overjoyed at Draco's new "relationship"…probably because, despite what they'd claimed about not judging him, they were still relieved on some level that 'gay' was not the case with him. And Draco understood completely. That would've been just too weird.

They each spent the next couple of days doing their own thing…studying or talking Quidditch. Remus though was starting to look a little peaky again, and Draco found himself watching him sometimes and wondering what it was actually like to transform every full moon, and whether it hurt at all.

On Friday night, Draco was just leaving the library when he bumped into Regulus for the first time that week. Feeling mighty relieved, he delved into conversation at once, not waiting for Regulus to slip away again.

"You need to talk to Sirius," Draco told him, boldly and firmly.

Regulus stared at him.

"I…"

"—will be happy to do as you ask, Draco?" said Draco. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I can't!" said Regulus. "And I won't. I don't want to."

"You have to," said Draco. "You have no choice. He's your brother."

"I do have a choice," said Regulus. "Look Draco…I won't pretend I like this whole thing that's going on with him and me…I really don't. I prefer it to be like it used to be."

"But that was years ago," said Draco. "Don't pretend with me—Sirius already told me all about it. I know what happened between you two."

Regulus bit his lip.

"You have to fix it," said Draco. "Fix it now before it's too late."

"It already is too late," Regulus told him. "Look, I'm sorry but it's just not gonna happen." He paused. "Don't make it your problem, Draco. Just 'cause you're related to us doesn't mean you have to play mediator when we fight."

He gave him a small smile and then retreated to his dungeons. Draco stared after him. Actually, that's exactly what it means, he thought.

When Draco returned to the common room, he found Remus snoozing on the couch nearest the fireplace. He walked over to him and frowned. Maybe it was the candlelight, or maybe it was the angle from which Draco stared down at him…but he swore Remus had never looked so ill. His face was covered with sweat as he continued to sleep, and he looked weak and fragile.

"Oy!" James hissed as he crawled through the portrait hole and spotted Draco standing over Remus.

James waved Draco over to him.

"Let him rest," he said, directing Draco upstairs to the dormitory.

"But—"

"If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he'll come upstairs," James assured him. "Come on, let's go."

Draco tried to look back at Remus but James kept blocking his view and pushing him forward, so Draco obliged. He didn't go to sleep right away though. He kept waiting for Remus to pop in and say that he was feeling all better. But even Draco knew that that was not likely to happen tonight.

The next night, it was with deep regret that Draco resorted to leaving the Marauders behind for his lesson with Dumbledore. But James, Sirius and Peter looked like they knew exactly what to do with Remus. Still, as Draco made his way over to the Headmaster's office, he found his mind so clouded that he doubted he would get anything right tonight. He had given up on trying to find a memory altogether, and was sure Dumbledore would not approve. He was just rehearsing his excuse for not having a memory ready, when he entered the office and found that he was completely alone. Dumbledore was not seated behind his desk as usual. The office was completely empty, except for the big red bird that was resting in its cage at the far end of the office. Draco checked his watch, and it indeed read 8 o'clock. He walked over to Dumbledore's desk and scanned the calendar that lay on the front. Yep, it was Saturday alright. So where was he then?

Unsure of what to do, Draco sat himself in his usual seat and frowned. He really didn't see any point in coming to these lessons anymore. He wasn't able to find a memory and he wouldn't be able to find one anytime soon. It was a completely pointless hour every Saturday night, during which he could be doing something more useful with his time, like trying to get bloody Sirius and Regulus to talk to each other, or the Marauders to tell him about Remus, or Severus to get over Lily already.

The antique clock on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk chimed 8:10, and feeling frustrated, Draco got up and crossed the room to the door. Just before his hand touched the handle however, a voice behind him said, "You really have no patience, do you, Malfoy?"

Draco spun around instantly, looking frantically for the source of it. No one else was in the room, and all the portraits on the walls seemed to be snoozing in their frames.

"Dumbledore will be along shortly, I expect," said the voice again, and Draco finally caught the eyes of the wizard in one of the portraits who wasn't sleeping. He was stationed just on the side of the wall nearest to Dumbledore's desk. Draco took a few steps towards Phineas Nigellus Black and frowned.

"How do you know who I am?" he asked.

"Dumbledore told me," said Phineas Nigellus, slowly.

Draco stared at him. He was a clever-looking wizard, with black hair, dark eyes, a pointed beard and thin eyebrows, and was wearing robes of green and silver. Draco's frown faltered and he stood up straight, knowing that this was the only way to talk to a fellow Slytherin, if one wanted information.

"Who were you?" Draco demanded, his head held slightly higher this time.

The wizard smirked at him. "I would think you would know your own great, great-grandfather, wouldn't you, Draco Black?"

Draco rolled his eyes at him. "I know you're a Black, but who were you?"

But Phineas Nigellus only eyed Draco curiously.

"Well?" said Draco.

"I told Dumbledore that it was a poor idea to let you take on my family name," said Phineas Nigellus. "My great grandchildren are stupid, yes, but not forgiving."

"Where is Dumbledore?" Draco asked.

"He is off taking care of some ministry matters to do with the war, but I really don't see how that is any of your business."

"Whatever," Draco turned his back on the wizard and approached the window on the far end of the office. He glanced at the Quidditch Stadium, which could be seen in the far distance from here.

"Tell me," said Phineas Nigellus, "Are any more of my descendants banished from the family name?"

Draco turned round to look at him. "I don't know."

"Sure you do," said Phineas Nigellus. "Aren't you best friends with that despicable great-great grandson of mine?"

"Sirius?" said Draco. "No, we're not best friends. And I'm also talking to your other great-great grandson…Regulus." Phineas Nigellus frowned at him. "Is he not despicable?"

"No," said Phineas Nigellus, still frowning. "For him, I have the utmost respect. He is doing precisely what is expected of him."

"The Slytherin way," Draco agreed, nodding.

A smile crossed the wizard's face. "You've heard the term?"

"I've lived it," said Draco. "So what is it exactly that makes Sirius despicable, but not Regulus?"

"Regulus respects the family name enough to protect its reputation," said Phineas Nigellus, wisely. "My son Arcturus would agree that this is a trait he'd inherited directly from him. Sirius, on the other hand, completely and totally disgraces the name he was given…and does absolutely no justice to my son, after whom he was named."

"Wasn't it your younger brother…? Who died at a young age, too…?" said Draco, raising an eyebrow at him.

Phineas Nigellus' mouth fell open.

"So you have heard of me then," he said.

"My mother told me you were the only Hogwarts Headmaster who'd been in Slytherin," Draco explained. He paused. "She also told me you were the least bit popular here."

Phineas Nigellus looked absolutely outraged, but he only held himself up even more and huffed. "Well then," he said, "Since you know so much about my family, what about yours?"

"What about them?" said Draco, indifferently.

"Where are they all now, I wonder?" said Phineas Nigellus, cleverly. "Are any of them banished? Are any of them rotting in Azkaban Prison? Are any—"

The empty fireplace in the corner of the office burst into emerald-green flame, making Draco leap away from the window. He stared at the man spinning inside the gate for a few seconds. Then, Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, making all the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerk awake. He limped his way out of the fireplace and slowly walked over to his desk, taking a seat. It was then that Draco noticed his severely bleeding hand.

"Professor!" said a corpulent wizard in one of the portraits behind Dumbledore. "What on earth's happened?"

"Another raid!" cried a stern-looking witch beside him. "Tell me, what has our world come to?"

"I've read that a bit of peppermint ointment will cure that up for you," said the first wizard, who was frowning down at Dumbledore's arm.

"That's alright, Armando, it's nothing that my Fawkes can't fix for me," said Dumbledore, in a surprisingly calm voice. His red pet bird flew over to his side and leaned over his arm at once.

"R-raid?" said Draco, in a very quiet voice.

Dumbledore looked up at him for the first time since he'd arrived and smiled softly.

"I apologise, Draco," he said. "I'm not usually late."

"I don't care about that, sir," said Draco, whose eyes were on Dumbledore's arm. "What's happened?"

Dumbledore looked down at the red bird, and so did Draco. It was now dropping tears onto Dumbledore's arm, and to Draco's astonishment, the wound began to heal itself. Draco watched in amazement, and Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Fawkes here is a phoenix," he explained. "Their tears have healing powers."

When the phoenix was finished, it flew away again, and Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"What happened?" Draco asked again.

"There was a great muggleborn raid down at Diagon Alley this evening," Dumbledore explained without opening his eyes. "The Death Eaters were vicious. Several of my old friends came out to help me stop them. But I'm afraid, it got a bit ugly."

"Did…did anyone…you know….." said Draco, feeling a lump in his throat.

"No," said Dumbledore. "There were no deaths, but many, many injuries." He opened his eyes and looked down at his completely healed arm. "They'll all probably be reported in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning." He sighed and closed his eyes again, looking very tired.

"Professor, I can come back tomorrow," said Draco, but Dumbledore immediately shook his head.

"We have agreed to Saturday nights, and we will keep doing this on Saturday nights," he said. "I just didn't know there would be a raid tonight, that's all."

"Are there many raids?" Draco asked, in a small voice.

"No," said Dumbledore. "Although, they have been more frequent recently than ever before." He frowned, and then cleared his throat and looked up at Draco. "You have a memory prepared for today, I presume?"

Draco opened his mouth to recite the excuse he'd rehearsed on his way over there, but suddenly stopped himself and nodded.

"Well then," said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. "Whenever you're ready."

Draco pulled out his wand, hesitated, glanced sideways at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black (who was watching him fervently), and closed his eyes.

He could see the Wizengamot's high court perfectly in his mind. He watched the assembly of wizards file out of the room, all of them shaking their heads at the frightened-looking man who was at the center of it. The two guards remained by the doors, waiting. Draco's mother leapt from her seat and ran to hug his father, who, as Draco approached him, he saw was shaking from head to toe. He hugged her for several minutes before his eyes landed on Draco.

"You'll take care of your mother, won't you?" he said, tears sparkling in his eyes.

"Y-yeah," said Draco, quietly. He had no idea what to say. "Of c-course."

"And do what she says," Lucius continued, his voice breaking slightly.

Draco stared at his father. He had never seen him like this before—on the verge of a mental breakdown. He looked so destroyed from within…so completely helpless. Draco felt his own eyes watering. And then, something happened…something he'd never imagined in a million years would happen…

His father pulled his arms around him and hugged him tight, crying into his son's shoulders. Draco cried back, and he could hear his mother crying beside them too. It was too soon that the guards pulled his father away from him and led him out of the courtroom. Draco watched him with a mixture of sadness and fear. But even in a desperate moment like that, he couldn't help but feel as though his entire world had lit up. Despite the devastating circumstances, his father had actually shown affection for him—for the first time in his life. Draco had never doubted that he was raised by two parents who loved him, but he'd also never thought that he was the sort of person who needed confirmation about that sort of thing.

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in Dumbledore's office, with the old man watching him curiously. The tears were still in Draco's eyes, and his wand in his hand was slightly shaking. He could still feel that tingling sensation from the memory, tickling its way from his fingertips, up to his arms and into his heart. It settled itself there, warmly and comfortably, as though it were its place of refuge. Draco took a deep breath and pointed his wand into the air.

"Expecto Patronum."

The shiny, silvery light erupted from the tip of his wand like cannonball. Smoothly and delicately, yet roughly and furiously, it spread out in all different directions, twisting and turning and entwining until it started to form some sort of shape. First Draco spotted a set of wings—leathery, sort of like a bat's, and without any feathers at all. Then the skeletal body to which the wings were attached formed, along with a long tail. Its boney figure and dragon-like face turned around to look at Draco, and even through the mist and bright silver, he could tell that this thing was utterly beautiful. Losing his concentration, Draco let his wand slip through his fingers, and the mist, along with the mysterious creature, vanished into thin air.

It was only after Dumbledore came around his desk and pulled Draco into his usual seat that Draco realised his eyes were watery and his head slightly dizzy. Dumbledore handed him a glass of water and Draco accepted it without arguing. When Dumbledore finally sat back in his seat, Draco wiped his face on his sleeve and met his eyes.

"What was that?" he breathed, his heart still beating frantically (and painfully) against his chest.

"That…" said Dumbledore, who was smiling sadly now, "…was a thestral."


"A thestral…" Draco repeated, his mind racing for when he'd heard the term before.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They are vastly misunderstood creatures, unfortunately. But they're far larger in real life than what your patronus appeared to be."

"Wait," said Draco. "So…that was it then, wasn't it? That was a real patronus? You mean…I actually managed to produce one?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"My patronus is a thestral," Draco repeated, more to himself than to Dumbledore.

"It's very curious," said Dumbledore. "Thestrals are thought, by most, to be creepy and…sinister."

"What makes you think I didn't think it was creepy and sinister?" said Draco, at once.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" said Draco.

"Because you said it was beautiful," said Dumbledore, as though it were obvious.

Draco froze instantly.

"You mean…" he breathed. "I…said that…out loud?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, smiling again.

Great, thought Draco.

Dumbledore tilted his head to look at him more clearly, and Draco watched him, waiting for his analysis.

"The memory that you chose," said Dumbledore, suddenly. "It was a very powerful one, to have allowed you to produce a full-bodied patronus on your first try tonight."

"Yeah," Draco whispered. "It was powerful alright."

There was a pause.

"Did it have anything to do with death?" asked Dumbledore in a soft voice.

Draco stared at him, long and hard.

"Anything at all?" said Dumbledore, again.

Draco shook his head.

"Have you ever seen someone die, Draco?" Dumbledore asked, still more softly.

Again, Draco shook his head, though it took his brain a lot longer to comprehend this action. Dumbledore sat upright again and folded his hands on the table in front of him.

"I only ask because it is curious that your patronus would take the form of the very creature that can only be seen by those who have seen death," he explained.

And that was when Draco remembered…it felt like ages ago now, but only just two years before, during another one of Hagrid's pathetic Care of Magical Creatures lessons, he'd taught them about these thestral creatures. At the time, hardly anyone in the class could see them, Draco included. Draco had only assumed that Hagrid was even more mental than ever before. But now, he understood. And, as looked over at Dumbledore from across the desk, a fleeting image of the night on the Astronomy Tower lurking at the back of his mind, Draco knew exactly why it was that he could see the thestral…even in its patronus form.

But he knew better than to tell Dumbledore this. And even in his state of shock, he knew better than to think that Dumbledore believed him when he said,

"I don't know why it's a thestral, okay? It just is."

"Alright," said Dumbledore, calmly. "You don't have to explain your patronus to me. As long as you can produce it, my work here is done. We can move on to other things at our next lesson."

"So it's not…weird…that I think it's beautiful while most others think it's just creepy?" Draco said instead.

"No, not at all," said Dumbledore, simply. "Wizards are oftentimes very fond of their Patronus forms. It is, in a way, like the shape of your soul. The Patronus takes on your personality, or rather, it comes from your personality."

"So deep down, I'm just a creepy old horse," Draco concluded.

Behind Dumbledore, Phineas Nigellus gave out a bark-like laugh, much like Sirius.

"Well actually," said Dumbledore, who stood up from behind the desk and motioned for Draco to do the same. "I was going to say that thestrals are seriously misunderstood creatures…rather like yourself."

Draco said nothing, and allowed Dumbledore to escort him to the office door. They stopped there, and Dumbledore turned to look at him, the wound on his arm all better now.

"I am very proud of the work that you have done tonight, Draco," he said. "You should be too. Have yourself a good night."

"Why did you tell Phineas Nigellus Black who I really am?" Draco hissed at him, careful to make his voice not heard by any of the portraits.

Dumbledore frowned at him.

"I specifically told you not to tell anyone who I really am," Draco continued.

"I understand," said Dumbledore. "But I assure you that Phineas will not say a word to anyone."

"How can you know that?" Draco shot at him.

"Because," said Dumbledore, looking more serious now, "All the portraits in my office are honour-bound. Phineas must do as told by the current Headmaster of Hogwarts...me."

"Oh," said Draco.

"I may be old, but I am not a fool," Dumbledore told him, sternly. "Now, go and get some sleep, Draco."

"Goodbye, professor," said Draco, and he left.

The whole way back to Gryffindor Tower, he thought of nothing else but that memory of his father and how it had been strong enough to allow him to produce the patronus…how, strangely, it had brought him to tears. He then thought about the strange, horse-like creature, and how, although he'd only known it for just a few seconds, he already felt like he'd known it his whole life…and strangely…he loved it already.

It was such a weird feeling that he couldn't explain it even to himself.

Feeling exhausted from the night's work, he gave the Fat Lady the password and climbed through the portrait hole, only to stop as soon as he was in the common room. James and Sirius were standing together on one side, while Lily was standing in front of them, her arms crossed and her expression furious. Remus and Peter were not there, and by the looks of it, nobody else was either.

Lily did not even notice Draco join Sirius' side. She was too busy glaring at him.

"Look," said Sirius, who was sporting a rather relaxed expression. "I told your friend that I wasn't looking into anything serious…"

"That's true, he probably did," James pointed out. "He always makes sure to tell them that…the girls, I mean."

"It's not my fault she took it to mean that we were gonna get married one day," said Sirius. "She knew I was just looking to have a little fun."

"Yeah?" said Lily. "Well, you're always looking to have a little fun with all of my friends!"

"Jealous?" said Sirius, grinning.

"Oh yes!" cried Lily with much sarcasm. "I'm just dying with jealousy! Why, Sirius Black, why won't you have me?!"

James laughed.

"Knew you were," said Sirius, who disregarded her sarcasm. "It's fine, Lils. We can hook up too if you want."

But Lily only scoffed and turned away from him without another word, marching up the stairs to her dormitory.

Sirius looked round at James, whose smile had faded, and he laughed.

"Oh come on, I was just joking!"

"Not funny," James muttered.

"I thought it was funny," said Draco.

Sirius smiled. "See, Jamesy? Finally, someone in our group with a sense of humour!" He turned to Draco. "How was the lesson then?"

"Fine," said Draco. "It was really good."

"Yeah?" said Sirius, his hands slipping into his pockets. "What'd you learn?"

For a fraction of a second, Draco actually contemplated telling them about learning the Patronus Charm. But then he figured it wouldn't be wise because then they'd just question what his patronus was and then they would wonder where and when he'd seen death. And tonight, Draco was not prepared to explain any of that to them.

"I learned about inferi," Draco lied. "Dumbledore thought it would be wise to start with the most dangerous, darkest creatures of all…he said we'd be learning them in Dark Arts at some point this year anyway."

"Really?" said James and Sirius, both of whom looked excited at the idea of learning about inferi.

"Yep," said Draco, nodding.

And as they went off to bed, he silently made a mental note to be sure to visit Dumbledore tomorrow morning and let him know that he now had to make Claybrook teach the sixth years about inferi, if it wasn't already on the syllabus.

The rest of the weekend was fairly noisy, what with people following Draco everywhere he went and asking him about him and Alice. It really was very annoying, and so Draco was more than grateful for the Marauders when they cleared everybody out of the common room late Sunday night so that they could talk, when all they really wanted to do was just hang out without all the noise and ruckus. Remus was upstairs in their dormitory, resting (again), so they figured it'd be best not to wake him.

"Damn, you're stealing like all the attention from us because of your hookup with Alice," said Sirius, who settled himself on the couch.

"Sorry," said Draco. "But we haven't exactly hooked up yet."

"Yeah, yeah, we don't need to know the details," said James.

"What?" laughed Draco. "You're seriously telling me you guys don't talk about this sort of stuff?"

"Nope," said Sirius. "We don't."

"Wait, you're serious?" said Draco. "I…I just thought…"

"We have class, you know," said Sirius. "I'm perfectly fine with you guys knowing that I have hookups and with which girls…but the details are…private. I at least respect them enough for that."

"You don't respect them at all," laughed James, but Sirius only rolled his eyes at him.

"So," said Peter, suddenly, and the boys all turned to him. It was rare that he ever actually offered any information himself, but when he did, it was always something interesting. "I have an update on Adalyn."

"Really?!" cried Sirius, sitting up quickly with gleaming eyes.

"Well tell us!" said James with equal enthusiasm.

Peter smiled shyly, but something about his smile told Draco that whatever the update was, it wasn't good.

"I t-took your advice," he began.

"Whose?" said Draco.

"All of yours," said Peter. "I was nice and considerate, but not too nice and considerate. I ruffled my hair a lot and acted like I had better things to do than talk to her…but I also asked her about how her week was and how she liked her classes."

James' eyebrows shot up and Sirius let out a strange cough.

"Aaaand?" said Draco.

"And," said Peter, anxiously, "S-she said she would reach out to me if she found time to go out."

"Oh no, Pete!" said Sirius and James together, both of them shaking their heads disapprovingly.

"What?" he said. "I did what you guys told me to do!"

"Yeah, but you should've have taken all of their advice and mixed it up!" said Draco.

"Damn, you probably confused the poor girl," said Sirius.

"You have to pick one way," said James. "You can't be nice and be mean and be cool. You have to pick one and just go with it."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" said Peter, miserably.

Draco laughed.

"It's okay, it's okay, we'll get you another girl," said Sirius, patting him on the back. "That's gonna be my mission for the next week. You mark my words, I'll find you another girl. I'm an evil genius when it comes to these things."

"Yeah, and my mission will be not to make such a big fool of myself," said Peter.

"James' mission is probably to control his Quidditch team," said Sirius, and James groaned.

"I swear, if that Gudgeon misses one more practice, he's out," he said, turning to look at Draco.

"And what, I'm in?" said Draco.

"Maybe," said James. "But for now, you have more important things to worry about."

"Such as?"

"Our next prank, of course," said James. "What, you didn't think we forgot, did you?"

Draco looked from him to Sirius, who nodded with a smile.

"We look forward to your instructions, Mr. Black," said James.

And even after they left for bed, Draco remained rooted to the spot, his eyes on the fireplace. Well this was just perfect. On top of everything else that he had to deal with, he now had to come up with a prank brilliant enough to gain the Marauders' approval, yet not too brilliant so as to get them into trouble and thus disappoint Remus, and also not too evil so as to make them question whether he was actually the innocent face that he displayed.

Well this wasn't going to be hard at all…


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