These lazy clothes are hanging from my lazy body.
I haven't eaten since I left here.
Look like half a man; A beat up little boy.
And all I really need is everything or nothing.
And all I really need is a girl that's never leaving.
And the drug that keeps relieving this pain inside of me.
- Anorexic Love Song, Jack's Mannequin
I cannot believe the Golden Trio saw my dick.
I cannot believe that I would have had such a bad nightmare that I'd drown in a bathtub; pathetic. It's absolutely pathetic!
More importantly, I don't understand why I had such a vivid dream about Granger. Why I had the sudden urge to rescue her so badly; I've never thought of that night before yesterday. I've been trying to block it permanently from my mind. I don't have a hero complex like Potter, nor do I hold empathy towards anyone. I never have, and I do not see why I should start feeling it now.
I'm not even sure what happened, nobody's told me a thing; just carried me in silence to the Hospital Wing while I groggily asked questions, though they ignored me.
So now I lie here in anxious wait for somebody to come and save me from my ignorance of the events. Although I'm not sure if I want to know the full details. And I hope they're nothing bad.
But that's wishful thinking, because for sure it's going to shock me.
All I remember is waking up with her kneeling next to me, holding my hand. The surprising thing was that I was gripping hers right back. Perhaps she was doing some healing magic? I don't know….all I do know is that someone from the stupid 3 saved me. Nott was hysterical, he couldn't have done it. It's not like it would've been his fault if I had died, if he hadn't joined me in the first place I'd probably be gone.
Great, now I owe my life to Nott and those 3 don't I?
What if they tell everyone they saved the helpless Slytherin traitor, and become the heroes again?
Huh…..I think I'd rather be buried in the ground.
{}
"Malfoy."
"Malfoy!" I open my sleepy eyes and see Nott sitting on a chair next to my cot. He's holding a tray with pumpkin juice on it and a cutlet of roasted chicken. Oh no.
"What's the big idea? Waking me up like that, you imbecile." I grumble as I stretch.
"Well you were talking in your sleep….and you sounded like you were having a nightmare, so I woke you up..?" I blush slightly mortified at this new information.
"What exactly…did I say?"
"Uh, I dunno," he looks to the floor. "You were mumbling something about not hurting someone. You said 'no, stop' a few times…that's pretty much it."
"Oh," I say softly. I would have that dream again.
"Anyways, I brought you some food, it looks like you could use some," and with that he plunks the dish on my chest; immediately I grimace at it. And then my stomach growls as I smell the delicious scent wafting up at my nose.
He's looking at me expectantly, and I know I'm going to have to try and eat this.
The thing is that it's not that I don't want to eat, of course I do. But it's as if there's a man in my stomach holding a rope that closes my esophagus up every time I put a fork in my mouth. The man is never happy when I eat, so he punishes me by pulling the rope and laughing at my misfortune when I choke the food back up. He won't let me be satisfied. Maybe if I feed him the right food he'll let me enjoy a meal for once. I've been trying everything for the past few weeks to no avail
A man in my stomach? What am I talking about.
I think I'm going crazy.
I grab the knife tentatively, and poke at the chicken, scrutinizing it.
"So about what happened yesterday…." I murmur, trying to distract our attention from my apparent eating disorder and back onto last night.
Nott looks uncomfortable, but he starts talking, probably knowing that I'll be persistent if he doesn't tell me.
"Uhm, well, you drowned basically in the tub."
"Yes, I'm aware," I flash angrily, still embarrassed about it. "But how am I not dead? What happened? All I remember is waking up in silence, zipped lips on all your faces."
"Err, I really don't know if you want to know what happened, Malfoy. I think you may get mad." This is serious, he's dropped the whole 'Drakes' thing.
"Just tell me, Nott. Do you really think I'm going to go ask Potter or Granger what happened? No, obviously not. Besides, you didn't even save me so it's not humiliating for you, is it?"
His eyes ablaze with hurt, and I realize what I've just said.
"I'm sorry okay! I didn't know what to do! It was really scary and, and -"
"Look, I wasn't talking about you not trying to help, I meant you didn't ultimately fix whatever was wrong with me," I explain exasperated. "I appreciate you not leaving me in the bathroom to die, now please just tell me what happened!"
This seems to have done the trick, and he seems calmer.
He takes a deep breath, going over the story he wants to tell in his mind.
As he sits in silence, I look outside the window nearest me and see the sun-setting gracefully; the remaining light just snags at my bed. The moon is halfway into the sky. I don't think I' going to be able to sleep anymore today, but it's only dinner time; that means it's going to be a long night.
"Okay," Nott sighs. I avert my attention back to him. "I was waiting for you for about 20 minutes, and then I decided to see if you were almost finished because an hour long bath is ridiculous. So I knocked on the door, got no reply. I assumed the worse and opened the bathroom with Alohamora. You were fully immersed underwater so I panicked and pulled you up, but you weren't breathing so I just er, grabbed you and put a towel around you. Sorry about that by the way…." He trails off and I grimace.
"Whatever. I would rather live than have those three and yourself see me naked…I think…."
"I swear I didn't look!" he says holding his hands up, and I smirk. "I just figured it would be faster to just cover you in a towel than dress you, and I was freaking out mate."
"Honestly, I believe you. Continue." I say, fighting now an urge to laugh. He's so obviously not gay, he drools over anything that has breasts and thighs.
"Sorry, okay, so yeah. I picked you up, and then ran down the hall, but seeing as it was still dinner, nobody was there. And then all of a sudden I heard footsteps and it just so happened to be those 3. And I know you hate them, but they were willing to help" I stare at him sceptically. "Er, at least, Hermione Granger was." He corrects.
Oh was she?
"W-what happened then?" I stutter, thinking maybe Nott was right and I didn't want to know if it concerns Granger.
"She told me to lay you down on the floor," Wasn't that was nice of her?
"And then she was searching for a pulse, got on her knees and ran a hand along your chest," What! ?
My heart jumps into overdrive, palms becoming sweaty at the thought of such intimacy.
"And she – she, performed this Muggle thing called CPR…" Again, what?
"And what pray tell is CPR?" I demand, hoping it's not as foreign and weird as it sounds.
"Well, I'm not exactly sure what it stands for, but she was pushing in your chest a lot, compressions I think she told me after, and then she erm, blew air into you..."
Blew air into me? "Do you mean…" I start, my breathing hitched.
"Yeah mate, she basically kissed you…in a non-romantic way." He blurts out. His eyebrows rise waiting for my reaction as I feel my face fill with blank shock.
I don't even know what to think….this is absolute rubbish!
How could she – why would she?
AGH!
"She put her mouth on mine?" I say almost incredulous rather than outraged (how I should feel). 'That's ridiculous! She hates me, and I've never been kind to her, why would she do that?"
"She's a decent person, and you're not?" he suggests stupidly.
I sneer at him; this isn't a time for insults on my flaws! 'Well that's obvious isn't it? Clearly only a member from the fabulous Harry Potter entourage would be willing to touch the disgusting mouth of Draco Malfoy," I hiss, now angry.
"It was rather nice of her if you ask me, the others didn't want to and besides the fact they're guys, they have good reason not to. I wouldn't have done it. No offense," he adds as I roll my eyes.
"Well great, juuuust spectacular. Now I owe my life to her. Stupid, mudbloody…gah! Is there anything else I should know?"
He hesitates for a minute. "Yeah, you sort of, mumbled her name."
"I did what!" I whisper, my voice hollow.
Oh hell, no.
Not on my life did I say it. Just kill me now, murder me, suffocate me.
I'm certainly not telling Nott about my dream. Did I recall it as I woke up?
Will she ask me about it at a later date?
"Then you held your hand out, groping for someone, but it was directed at her…"
This just gets better and better. Maybe I had that dream again…. Maybe I actually saved her that time, by reaching out my hand in real life, I wanted to help her off the floor inside my head….
No, no, no. Definitely not. But, what if…?
"What did she do?" I feel like a child asking all these simple questions, but I need to know.
"She grabbed it, actually. After, I heard her say to Weasley that she took it because she thought maybe you were searching for reassurance that you weren't dead. It seemed like a bull explanation, but he was kinda angry, I wouldn't worry about it."
I won't, anything to rile up that idiot.
So she grabbed it back? Well her reasoning is sound…but I don't believe that that was truly my reason for wanting to hold her hand. I`m afraid of investigating it further.
What the fuck is going on here? Why are all these emotions circling me now. They`ve left me alone for so long because I've blocked them out, and I intend them to stay barricaded.
"Mr. Malfoy!" I turn jerkily at my name being called, and see Professor McGonagall followed by Madam Pomfrey, both looking stern.
Great.
They walk up towards me and McGonagall begins to speak. "My boy, you've been in the hospital wing far too many times for school to have been in session for only a month. Now Madam Pomfrey informs me you drowned, am I correct?"
I nod, mortified that she's taken it upon herself to be here and wishing Nott would leave.
"What happened?"
"Er, I don't really…"
"He fell asleep in the tub and I got worried after a while so I went in and then I picked him up, and I didn't know what to do because he wasn't breathing so I took him to find someone who did know what to do and then I found Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley and then they helped me and then, and then-"
'Slow down, Nott!" McGonagall commands astonished at the boy who talks a mile a minute. "You say Potter helped you?"
"Well, apparently it was just Grang- I mean Hermione," I tell her, irrationally loathing everyone involved.
"What did she do?"
More than enough.
"CPR," breathes Nott, shaking. I guess he's just scared he'll get in trouble and that's why he won't shut up.
"CPR? Quite brilliant if she was just in a hallway. Maybe we should think of teaching that to everyone here," she says more to herself than us. "I trust you've said thank you?" she asks me, giving me a knowing look. As in, she knows I never say thank you. Which isn't true, I do if it's much deserved; Nott stopping Finnigan from punching me for example.
Saving my life certainly qualifies a 'thanks'.
Sigh…..
"I just woke up now, actually. I vaguely remember being awake on the way here yesterday but nobody really…talked about it."
'Well the next time you see Miss Granger, you know what to do. And take my word for it; I will ask her if you've said it." She bores her at eyes into me, and I stare right back. Like I'm afraid of her. I haven't been a prick all year, she can't say a damn thing.
"For the time being, just rest. I expect to see you in class tomorrow my boy, you can't miss our first history lesson can you? Now eat." She finishes with a gleam of a smile, and I throw her a confused look. She simply nods and beckons to Nott, who stands to attention. With a nervous wave in my direction, together they exit.
I look at the forgotten chicken on my lap, now cold. I let out a long breath and Madam Pomfrey circles around me, gauging my reactions like a hawk. "Want me to heat that up for you, dear?" She asks pointing her wand at the plate.
"I'm not hungry," I state, looking at it sadly.
"You need to eat Mr. Malfoy." She proclaims, and flicks her wand at it. It enflames for a second then it extinguishes as steam rises from it. "You are white, your immune defences are down. And you're just skin and bone anyways. What have you been eating regularly?"
I falter, not wanting to tell her anything. "Well?"
"Nothing," I finally say.
Her eyes grow wide, scrunching them, hoping that there's more to it.
"'Nothing'? How often do you eat a day?"
I don't like these questions.
"I haven't really managed to eat much at all, I can't remember the last time…"
She stares at me reproachfully. "How long has this been going on for?"
"I'd say...a couple months now." She tsks, in taking a deep breath.
"Months? Good gracious. Have you any idea how dangerous that is for your health, Mr. Malfoy?"
"No, hadn't a clue," I reply sarcastically. She gives me a look.
"You might have clinical anorexia."
I stare at her sideways. What the hell is that?
"It's when the person afflicted either chooses or simply does not eat anything to starve themselves. An eating disorder," and I feel my skin flush in humiliation. How weak am I? "On the opposite side, you could binge on food and overeats. Usually it happens to people with a poor body image and low self esteem. Generally it happens to girls who think they're 'too fat', or else they're very upset and instead of exercising and changing their diet they simply don't eat. But for you, it's got to be punishment. You are punishing yourself, you don't think you deserve to eat, do you? Have you been feeling down about yourself lately? Feeling depressed about anything?"
Yes I've been feeling down, but not because I'm too fat.
And I'm not telling her about my depression, I'm not telling anyone.
"Not really." I lie. "I've just had no appetite…I want to eat, I'm just not hungry; ever."
"Hmm," she clicks, unconvinced. "For right now, drink this." She mutters an incantation and points her wand at the pumpkin juice cup, which empties and refills with a pinkish-red, thick liquid. I pick it up, and examine it. It smells like strawberries.
"It's a concoction from the Muggle world. It's filled with fruits, protein and lots of vitamins and minerals. Drink it up." She points at the cup and then up at me. Says she'll be back later and hurries out of the room, apparently having work to do, leaving me to my own devices.
This will fix everything, clearly.
I have a disorder, as well as an apparent fixation on a mudblood, not to mention I owe my life to said girl.
My life is so peachy. This is bound to do the trick.
I pick up the glass regretfully, determined to try and rid of at least one affliction I have and raise the glass; cheers!
I stick the cup to my lips, and in one long gulp, I drain it. I cough for a moment, immediately my insides clench, the man protesting very hard. But I will not vomit, make myself keep it down by breathing in and out.
It was not bad, actually; too sweet but at least it tasted alright. My stomach feels better anyways. I place the tray on my bedside table, satisfied.
Laying back on the bed, I close my eyes, just wanting to relax. The feeling won't come, so I grab a book from my bedside table. I open up the history book: From Medieval to Modern: Changes in Classical Music. Tomorrow's class is going to be an adventure to say the least, may as well get ahead if I can't fucking rest.
I still can't believe I saw him naked.
That's an image that will forever be burned into my mind.
Harry and Ron have avoided the subject for the past day. We all agreed that that entire event should just be forgotten. But I can't stop thinking about the whole encounter.
I mean, at least for once he is being humiliated. I know it's petty, but besides the ferret incident in 4th year it's always me, Ron or another poor soul on the other end of the stick.
My brain flashbacks to when he hexed me so my teeth grew to be the size of a walrus. Then to when he constantly ignored me and called me a Mudblood. I always hated how he refused to acknowledge my insults even though they clearly affected him. Rage boils inside of me, and I can't believe I ever let the thought cross my mind that he's attractive. He'll never be, the way he treats people. Just because he's changed now doesn't excuse his past behaviour; he's never even apologized to me or anyone.
Thoroughly stewed in my upset, I grab my book bag and shake my head.
Better go to class, I just hope he isn't there. Only, he's always there. Out of my 9 classes, he's in 7 of them. Music, History, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms. How he manages to stay so smart and get into those classes, I'll never be sure; he always goofs off. Well he used to anyways.
Ugh, I'm sick of thinking about him!
I walk down the staircase quickly and knock into Lavender, who sniffs and bumps me out of the way.
Nice seeing you too.
I see Ron sitting by the fireplace, his face scrunched in concentration as he looks at an issue of Quidditch Quarterly. I smile at the sight, hoping for some semblance of normalcy in talking to him.
"Ron," I call, and I hear him give a little 'Wha..?'. He looks up and gives me a warm grin when he spots me. I walk over to him and plop down next to him on the couch.
"How are you, Hermione?' he asks affectionately, and gives me a quick hug.
"Oh, fine." I say returning the embrace. "Somewhat excited for my classes today, although now that I've seen the light on Professor Binns, plus I basically have history twice starting now, I don't think I'll make it through his class."
"Well that's kind of a given," he laughs.
"How about you, Ron?"
"Eh, I'll survive. I have transfiguration, so hopefully I'm not terrible at it like last week. I turned a desk into a lion by accident; poor McGonagall nearly had a heart attack."
We both have a giggle at that; I'm happy to see him smiling, it's so nice to not have to side step around our words. We've gotten more comfortable around each other, and I think perhaps he's okay with -
"So are you still going on that date with Dean?" he asks casually.
Well I retract that last statement. His happiness won't last long.
"Yes, I am," I say awkwardly. "We've planned to go to Hogsmeade for our first, I mean, for our date," I correct myself. Who knows, it could be the first and last date.
"What?" he exclaims wounded. "But aren't you coming to my birthday lunch thing?"
"Of course! We were, at least I was, going to buy you a gift and then come join you."
"Lovely, so the guy after my ex-girlfriend is coming to lunch with us. Splendid." He crosses his arms and shifts away from me.
"Ron!" I cry, hurt. Why is he so fragile? "I told you that I'm not ready to try us again. You know the reasons why. It's not like I'm getting married to him. I'm just er- testing the waters. Yes."
"Testing the waters?" Ron repeats scathingly. "Well make sure you don't drown in the ocean that Dean apparently is; I'm just a wading pool compared to him, aren't I?" He says harshly.
"Ron," It's apparently all I can say at the moment. "That isn't it – I'm only 18 years old and I don't want to be attached to someone exclusively, alright? People break up all the time. It doesn't mean I love you any less, it means that I don't ever want that love to die, and being with you when I don't want to be will just ruin it faster. You're being a baby," I huff.
"A baby, am I? That's all I ever am to you, right? An immature little baby. Miss Perfect Grades needs a perfect boyfriend."
"This isn't about you being better or worse than any other boy, although right now you are at the bottom of the barrel!" I seethe, tired of his jealousy.
This is just a ridiculous, there is no logical reason he should get so mad when he didn't bother to try and contact me again through the summer months. And I want to tell him this, but I'm too overwhelmed by his inferiority complex to even say anything.
"Yeah, I'm just scum. Well maybe if I offend you so badly, I'll take my presence elsewhere."
He gets up and storms out of the room and up to his dorm, as I bury my face in my hands. ARGH.
This isn't how it was supposed to be. This year was supposed to be fun.
No more press, no more crazy, I was hoping it would be back to normal as much as it could be.
But it's been full of ups and downs and confusing emotions, and I just don't know what action to take.
Defeated, I decide I'm just going to go to class. I stand up and start to walk towards the Fat Lady, but I stop when I hear 'Hermione!' across the room behind me.
It's Harry!
"Are you alright?" he asks grabbing my elbow to stop me. "Ron is having a fit upstairs, and I figured he probably said some not so nice things to you. I know how he is."
Oh, what a sweetheart.
"Yes, I'm okay. I just can't stand his envy over me. If he likes me so much why did he ignore me all summer?" I huff.
"Well, I can't put any words in his mouth, but all Dean can talk about is you, so I wouldn't say that," Harry grins with that spark in his eye. "It's been pissing him off. Anything I should know about?" he teases, pushing me lightly.
I manage a small smile, and shake my head. "No. Well not yet anyways. I just hope Ron can get over it so I'm still welcome at his party. It's only a week away. And I'd love for him to have a great time."
"He'll be fine, he's just frustrated about you refusing to go out again, but acting like a child is obviously one of those reasons. Er, don't tell him I said that."
"I won't" I say chuckling. Then my face drops. "You know, I wish we could sit down like adults and speak about what happened, but I just – it's so uncomfortable, and oh god, he probably hates me!"
"Of course he doesn't hate you, Hermione.' Harry reassures me, though I don't feel better. "Don't be sily, why else would he be so upset if he didn't care for you? He'll come around, you'll see. And anyways, there's always bribery. If you buy him something amazing that he can't refuse, I'm sure he'll 'forgive' you. At least for the time being."
"I suppose. God, I feel loads better, Thank you Harry," I say and then hug him tight. He's surprised, but then wraps his arms around me and squeezes me lightly.
"No problem," he responds as he lets go.
"Oh dear, it's almost 10:30, I must be off to music. Bye!"
"Don't tell Ginny about what he said, please. She'll pop his head off," he calls.
"Promise!" I wave running to the portrait hole. He returns it, shaking his head amused as he disappears from view.
I gambol up the staircase steps, wanting to get a good seat. On the 4th floor, I'm nearly out of breath, I feel so out of shape. I think perhaps I`ll start going for walks on weekend in between studying…
As I round the corner to the last set of stairs on the 7th floor I bump into someone, "Oof!" I appear to have knocked them down, and I drop my books discomfited to go help them up.
"I'm so sorry! I really didn't see you and-"
Oh no.
As I notice the green Slytherin robes and pale blonde hair, I cross my finger even though I know it's him.
"You senseless pea brain, why don't you watch where you- oh, Merlin."
As Malfoy stands up and brushes himself off, his cheeks turn pink as his expression goes from pissed off to embarrassed. His voice is small, a first when speaking to me.
My back stiffens, and I know we're both thinking of 2 days ago. I feel slightly bad for not visiting him in the hospital, but then again, he doesn't really deserve company. And probably doesn't want it come to think of it.
I wonder if he knows what really happened, but his body language, closed and tense, suggests that he does.
I bend down to pick up my leather bag, and take a step forwards wanting to get away when he says, "WAIT."
I freeze at how loud he is, slowly turn around and say; "Y-yes?"
Why am I so tongue tied around him?
He looks uneasy and then mumbles. "I may as well get this over sooner than later."
What's 'this'? Now I'm nervous.
"Look Granger, I know it was you who revived me 2 days ago." I hold my breath, now feeling extremely awkward. "I just want to say….thank you. Thanks for letting me not die. I appreciate it, I guess is what I'm trying to say."
"Oh."
I'm shocked. I didn't know thank you was a phrase he actually knows.
"Don't worry, I haven't switched bodies or something; McGonagall wanted me to let you know. Normally I wouldn't follow her instruction, but there are times when people deserve to be thanked and I think saving someone's life can be one of those times." Oh.
"It's fine…I'm sure anyone would've done it. You're welcome..." is all I say.
"Actually, anyone would not have done it. I know Weasley and Potter wouldn't, Nott wouldn't have either. It just so happens that you don't have the conscious of dragon dung. So thanks – that's the last time I'll say it." And with that he starts walking up the stairs, spinning around in a frenzy.
Reluctantly I follow suit, but keep my distance.
That actually seemed sincere; even if McGonagall made sure he told me so. And here I was thinking he was a hapless git.
As I get to the classroom, I'm still confused about the altercation. Almost everyone is already there. I see Dean waving me over when I walk in, and I go sit next to him. As I push out my seat to sit on it I decide I'll try putting Dean on the spot. And get Malfoy from my mind.
"I hear I'm all you can talk about," I say lightly, getting out my books.
His face slackens, and I try not to smirk at his reaction.
'What? Who said that?" Dean laughs nervously.
"Oh just a little Gryffindor seeker," I smile.
"Blimey, Harry said that? Well if it's coming from the Chosen One, It must be true then," he grins cheekily and I chuckle. "So about Hogsmeade," he then turns, facing me to try and smooth over the conversation.
"Ahem." From the front I center my attention on McGonagall, glancing at Dean apologetically as she clears her throat, indicating the lesson is about to start.
I take out a quill, ink, and a pad of parchment and he swings his legs back to face his desk.
She spends the next hour talking about Medieval music; discussing Gregorian chant, and how Muggles first started making music with absolutely no structure, mainly for the church. It`s all very fascinating, and I`m scribbling furiously trying to copy everything from her slides down, as well as what she`s saying. By the end of the lesson, my wrist is cramped but I'm happy with my notes.
"Blimey, Hermione. How did you do all that? I've barely got two pages. And all these years I'd begged Seamus for his notes. Should've asked you!"
I turn to Dean, who whispered this to me, and thank him, pleased.
He winks causing a flush to bathe me.
"Now before you all exit, I must inform you of your summative assignment. In other words, your major assessment mark for the term, worth 40%."
Forty percent! ?
I avert my gaze to the teacher who must be mad to cast such huge amounts of grades on one project. Everyone is shushed, apparently thinking the same thing I am. Frightened looks on all of them.
"In partners, you will pick one artist or group, and discuss his ,their, or her life. You will determine the importance of their contributions to the music world in context of this course, and to the time period in which they lived. You will analyze some of their pieces, tearing apart their style and use of melody, rhythm and harmony and compare them to other composer in their relative periods of music. Lastly, you will pick one piece to perform in front of me. The full details will be released next week when you get into your groups."
Partners?
My head reels at the thought. I am not good in that kind of situation. I turn into a stroppy, bossy cow.
"Can we pick our partners?" Lavender asks hopefully, looking at Parvati.
Please! PLEASE!
"No, I will be randomly selecting them."
It's like a guillotine slicing my head off, and everyone groans.
I can't pick my partner and I wonder the horror of the possibility that I may be stuck with someone like Lavender, who isn't the brightest star in the sky, I think hyperventilating. Worse, what if my partner complains about me? What if they hate me? Oh god.
"Don't look so sad, it will be fun," she remarks dryly. "You can pick something from today if you'd like, even a Muggle band."
This sets the class atwitter. And it sparks my interest.
It would actually be really fun to do a band I like, such as Muse or Queen. I must admit I'm less partial to classical composers, thought their work is amazing.
"You can use the 2 week Easter break and long weekends coming up to work on them. We can discuss it later. Don't fret, see you all next week!"
Everyone erupts into excited banter. Seamus proclaims that whoever he gets should do either Flogging Molly or Dragon Fodder, the Wizard band, with him.
Lavender wants to do Ayla Scissorsnap, a Wizard solo artist that is reminiscent of Lady Gaga, and I hear Ernie Macmillan talking about his fascination with Celestina Warbeck.
"Hey, maybe we'll end up together," Dean chats with me, all flirty, bumping into me on the way out the door. "And then we get to spend a whole 2 weeks together."
"If we do, can we pick Muse?" I ask, half joking.
Wonder if he knows who they are, he's muggle born as well.
"Hmm, not my taste, I'm more of a classic rock kinda guy," His eyes brighten up.
"Really?" I ask. "Queen then?"
"Oh yes, I love them," he grins.
Maybe I did make a good choice with this one.