Disclaimer to JK Rowling & Shakespeare.
Chapter Sixteen: Certain People of Importance
"Dante, standing, studying his angel,
In there broke the folk of his Inferno."
Robert Browning from One Word More
"In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade a foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she makes me sin awards me pain."
Draco glared at Professor Charity Burbage, as she sat with her eyes closed and drinking in the sound of Hermione's voice as she had recited Sonnet 141. Unlike her usual self, where she would have recited it from memory with an annoying inflection, there was something vulnerable in Hermione's voice today as she read it from the anthology. Draco wondered if that was his doing, for being such an utter twit within hearing range.
It was for the best, Theo's voice told him in the back of his mind.
Draco looked at his text, reading along as she read it aloud, wondering what even was the point of it all.
When she had finished speaking and had sat down, the Professor opened her eyes with a self-satisfied smile on her face and stood up. She walked around the classroom, gazing at the students around her before asking, "What do you think Shakespeare is trying to say with this sonnet?"
Lacie, who was sat in front of him, turned back to look at Draco with a raised eyebrow before pursing her lips.
Hermione, on the other hand, remained resolutely facing forwards, refusing to acknowledge his existence. She had made it very clear that she no longer wanted to be friends – in secret or not – with him anymore and had covered his desk with her ever-growing stack of textbooks. Draco had simply ignored this fact and took a seat behind them, which suited him greatly as he was further away from the prying eyes of –
"Mister Malfoy, my much appreciated student, perhaps, you could start the class off?"
"Your soon-to-be-ex much appreciated student," Draco muttered at the Professor. Insolence was a rare trait to find in a Slytherin, as Professor Snape nipped the habit in the bud during his students' first week at Hogwarts. Professor Burbage, however, made it difficult to hold his tongue.
"Yes, what would be a class with you without you reminding me of your intent to drop it following your exams? But until then, Mister Malfoy, you are completely at my mercy. The sonnet?"
Draco shrugged, scanning the first two lines quickly, "That he does not love the woman he is writing about?"
"If that were true, why would he spend fourteen lines writing about his distaste?" a Hufflepuff to his right asked with a sigh, "it's probably another love sonnet, they're all love sonnets."
"Maybe even Shakespeare got bored about love sonnets and decided to forgo another sonnet about comparing someone to a summer's day," a Ravenclaw in the row in front of the Hufflepuff girl countered. "There are only so many metaphors in the world."
"I think," Lacie piped up, staring at Draco with that uncomfortable knowing gaze that seemed to precede that she was about to reveal something unpleasant about him, "that he loves the woman in the sonnet."
"Did you even read the sonnet?" Draco snapped at her, suddenly fed up of the knowing look she kept casting at him, "In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, for they in thee a thousand errors note – yes, that is the epitome of love poetry, Lace, well done."
Lacie narrowed his eyes at him and retorted, "You may have read it, but as usual, you did not understand it, Draco, or would you need Hermione to explain everything in great detail before you can?"
The classroom was so silent that one could have dropped a feather and heard it land. The class was used to the twins' sniping, but no one else had been aware that Hermione had actually helped him with Muggle Studies. Draco narrowed his eyes at his sister.
"But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise/Who in despite of view is pleased to dote," a voice gently interrupted, it was so gentle and quiet that Draco jolted when he realised who had said it.
"Precisely, Miss Granger," the Professor replied, walking away from Draco's desk. "Would anyone like to explain the significance of these two lines?"
No one spoke as the Professor walked around the class, and students tried their hardest not to make eye contact. Lacie was still focused on Draco, and Draco rolled his eyes at her, focusing on the sonnet in front of him. As he scanned the sonnet again, he scoffed internally. This was all so pointless. If he wanted to read between the lines instead of being presented a fact, he would have taken Divination as well. He did not want to deconstruct meanings from words. He looked up at his sister, and noted that she had not looked away.
Still looking at him, "It introduces the idea that his senses and beliefs are telling him one thing about this woman, but his heart is saying another."
Lacie removed her gaze from him as the Professor nodded, and looked at her to urge her to carry on.
Draco could feel the waves of smugness radiate from her. It coiled around his wrists and travelled up his arms. The tendrils tightened around him, pulling him towards her. If he allowed it to continue, he would be too lost in her. He swallowed as he tried to focus on the class, on something else that was not Lacie.
"He is saying that there is nothing in him that finds this woman attractive, and logically this woman should repulse him, but despite all of his senses and rationality he loves her. He loves her in a way that makes him feel like it is sinning, and painful but even logical reasoning cannot prevent him from loving her."
At that, she slowly turned to Draco, looking him dead in the eye and saying, "I think it is nice, to admit that sometimes there is no logic in love. That despite what beliefs you may have grown up to believe about a person, you can throw that out of the window because you love them."
Draco could see the Professor nod in the corner of his eye, and his fingers gripped the edge of his desk. Now this is getting ridiculous. He was starting to feel sick from feeling his sister's emotions. He had to control it, imagining chest upon chest and shoving every feeling coursing through his body and slamming them shut.
She had always done this when they were little, since she realised that she could make him feel how she felt. Since starting Hogwarts, she had not used that ability against him and he had only felt flashes of emotion, but not to this extent.
Not that Draco could not simply use that ability against her.
Draco tried to look bored as he flicked through his anthology and looked up as he asked, "Is this your way of telling the class that you fancy Harry Potter? I must agree, because where is the rationality in that?"
There was a ripple through the class, and Lacie's face went so red that he could see pink underneath her hair. She blinked at him for several moments, as if fighting back tears. Draco had forced away his emotions to separate himself from his sister, so could not feel guilt for his words. He noted with surprise that he had hit a raw nerve.
He had a certain reputation in Slytherin for doing so.
Serves her right for being so self-righteous about love.
Lacie must have known that he had a tenuous connection to her emotions. He had always appeared at her side when she was feeling particularly sad, or had accidentally laughed aloud when she was feeling ecstatic.
She had to know how nauseated he felt when he felt his stomach flip whenever he saw Potter, especially at the beginning of the year. Granted, their mother's intervention had subdued that flame but it was still there. He could not look Potter in the eye anymore without his heart skipping a beat.
Draco was glad that he had never felt about such a way about another person. If he had, Lacie would have countered him in seconds.
You forget she is a self-righteous Gryffindor too, with all of the heroics to match.
Draco pushed that thought away as a Ravenclaw recited Sonnet 142, with the discussion on Sonnet 141 having finished and the class had moved on. It was probably another love sonnet about being disparaging about someone you had alternative feelings for.
I think it is nice, to admit that sometimes there is no logic in love, and despite what beliefs you may have grown up to believe about a person, to throw that out of the window because you love them
Draco snorted at the words, he would file that away at the back of his mind, just for their Muggle Studies exam. Lacie had specifically focused on him when she had said that, as if she knew something that he did not.
Draco slammed his anthology shut, his forcing his thoughts away from Shakespeare. These sonnets were starting to drive him up the wall. Why did Elizabethans feel the need to express themselves in metaphor that would need to be deciphered centuries later? What was simply wrong with grabbing the person in front of them and expressing how they truly felt?
Not that he, Draco Malfoy, was any better. He had used Hermione for homework help, disguising it as interest in her Muggle-life. He had pushed old Wizarding belief on her under the pretence that he was educating her. He had never wanted to be her friend.
A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that that was not entirely true.
She had not been wholly irritating when she was talking about homework eagerly, and when she was passionate about things – like Hippogriff trials, or number grids – her face lit up, and she spoke with such animation that Draco found himself staring at her in fascination.
It was one of the rare times at Hogwarts this year where he found himself really smiling, and laughing.
Lacie had turned to him, still red, but managed a smirk. There was a plummeting feeling at the pit of his stomach.
No.
"But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade a foolish heart from serving thee."
Draco found himself running from Muggle Studies as soon as the bell rang, hoping that the further he was away from Lacie, the further she would realise his sinking realisation.
x-x-x-x-x
The explanation for Hermione's erratic behaviour being caused by a new association with Draco Malfoy had seemed too neat for Ron, but he was inclined to believe it. For once, the hot-tempered redhead bit his tongue in order to keep the peace. Harry, on the other hand, didn't believe Hermione at her word. He may be quiet and reserved, but he had years of noticing things under his belt. It was a particularly useful trait when your cousin liked using him as punching bag. It was also how he realised that Hermione had been clutching something as she was Petrified.
It's probably what makes you a good Seeker.
As comforting as it was to hear the back of his mind commending his Quidditch skills, Quidditch was something he didn't want to particularly think about at the moment.
So instead he focused on Hermione.
There was something odd about the way she disappeared and reappeared. At first it seemed novel, and everyone commented on it, but now Harry saw something different. Firstly, he noticed her moods. She could be irritated at Ron in one instance – which occurred far too frequently – but ten seconds later after she reappeared, she would have forgotten her ire.
Or, she would pretend to be annoyed at him even though she clearly wasn't anymore.
Then it was her eyes.
Hermione had a semi-permanent dazed look that seemed to look more dazed as time wore on. She would appear bright eyed and bushy-tailed one moment and a mere hour later, she would look exhausted. It was like the two hours of classes to Hermione was a tough Quidditch – Harry shuddered again at the thought again – session. That wasn't Hermione. She revelled in learning and classes, if anything she should be bright eyed and bushy-tailed after the day was done.
Ron had boiled it down to her classes, as the sheer amount of reading she had to do seemed to be endless. Even someone like Hermione would be tired if all they ever did was read, sleep or eat.
That was another thing that didn't add up, her classes. She never missed a Muggle Studies class, even though she was supposed to be in Divination, and she had never missed one of those classes either. How could one person be in two places at once?
How indeed.
It wasn't until Hermione had picked up a large textbook and was reading it over lunch, much to the amusement of Lacie, that the thought arrived at Harry. He had immediately dismissed the notion when it came to him, as it was such an outlandish option that it simply had to be fiction. There simply had to be another explanation.
Except, the idea never went away.
"A Theory of Time. Why are you reading that?" Lacie asked, as she tilted her head to read the spine of the tome.
"Personal enjoyment."
"Oh, you are not still obsessing over how to create time again are you, Hermione? As if you do not have enough on your plate."
"Creating time?" Ron asked before snorting, "Why don't you just travel in time?"
"Wizarding time-travel is unimpressive apparently," Lacie commented, whilst pushing peas around her plate, "Muggles have a Doctor what that is seemingly more remarkable."
"Doctor Who," Harry found himself correcting inattentively before Hermione could. She looked up at him in alarm and blinked at him. Lacie rolled her eyes as she bit into her sandwich, and Ron gaped with his mouth open.
It always did amuse him how everyone forgot that Harry had been brought up in the Muggle-world, despite his supposed infamy.
"It's a Muggle television programme about time-travel that I used to watch," Harry explained, Hermione still frozen in shock. "It was one of the few times that I was allowed to watch television because Dudley would be too busy hiding behind the sofa to tell on me."
Harry looked at Hermione, wondering if she knew the reference. The small smirk playing on her lips indicated that she understood. The idiom was completely lost on their Wizard-raised counterparts.
"Why would he hide behind the sofa?" Ron asked, his lunch had been forgotten in his confusion.
"Daleks."
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's blunt response, and didn't care enough to ask what a Dalek was. Lacie looked as if she wanted to ask why it would provoke someone to hide behind their furniture. Harry wondered himself how he would be able to explain exactly how terrifying a Dalek was to Ron or Lacie, considering they flinched every time he said 'Voldemort'.
Hermione interrupted his thoughts as she laughed dryly as she muttered, "You should form a club with my dad."
"You should find a TARDIS."
Hermione snapped her book shut and looked at Harry with a wide grin, "I think if I had free reign to travel in time and space, I would not use it simply to attend two classes at once."
How could one person be in two places at once?
At this point, Ron and Lacie were not paying attention. Ron was snickering about the fate of Lacie's mother's chicken coop and Lacie was scoffing. Hermione, however, had gone pale. She looked like Hagrid did when he had said too much. Harry blinked at her. Multiple things started to add up at once. Her mood-swings. Her increasing irritability in matters of seconds. The fact that she was attending impossible classes. Her eyes. Her constant loss of time.
Time.
Her obsession with time.
It was like pieces of a puzzle that Harry had been desperate to solve were slowly being put together.
Time.
Harry must have looked like a light had switched on in his head, as a terrified look had appeared on Hermione's face. Harry blinked again, pushing his realisation away from his thoughts and reached for a sandwich. Falling into Ron and Lacie's conversation, his mouth fell open.
"You have peacocks?"
"Just two," she replied nonchalantly, "Do Muggles not own peacocks?"
"Normal people don't own peacocks," Ron shot at her.
"Commoner."
"Inbred aristocrat."
Harry snickered. Hermione was staring at him, and he simply smiled at her. At that, she seemed to ease a little and rolled her eyes. "Ron's right, normal people don't own peacocks, but since when were the Malfoys normal?"
"Peasant," Lacie replied airily.
"Snob," Hermione countered.
"Plebe."
"Blueblood."
"Pureblood, actually."
"Pedant."
"You wouldn't think that you were the best of friends," Ron muttered as they continued to needle each other, then he turned to Harry and sighed dramatically. "Where do I even start with you?"
"I can make you a list," Lacie nodded before grinning at Harry. A few seconds passed, and she seemed to be aware of herself as she looked firmly away.
Harry bit his irritation at the blonde-haired girl back as he chewed his sandwich. Lacie was starting to become infuriating. On one hand, her mother was insufferable for constantly reminding Lacie of what had happened in the Chamber. On the other hand, Lacie was insufferable for constantly reminding him of what had happened in the Chamber. She had apologised, alright, for what she had said at Christmas but she had placed a careful distance between them. When Ron and Hermione had fallen out, Lacie had jumped on Hermione's side as if was a life raft, just to be away from Harry.
He had promised her, he thought bitterly, he had promised that he would stay out of trouble. To his credit, he had stuck his head down and focused on school work, Quidditch and mastering the Patronus Charm. If she had paid enough attention, she would know he could now cast a silver cloud.
He had kept out of trouble, to an extent.
Harry couldn't help that the allure of the Marauder's Map was so strong. He didn't have the luxury that Lacie had, who could simply go to Hogsmeade because her parents afforded her any opportunity she wanted. Ballet lessons at Hogwarts? Piano lessons? Tea and scones with Snape? All Lacie had to do was click her fingers, and like a genie with a lamp, it would be made available for her. All Harry had was the Dursleys, who would only delight in his misery. He wanted do something because he wanted to, not because the Dursleys had stopped him or because Lacie was holding him back.
She had been right though, his impulsiveness had cost him the Map and Snape's persistent scrutiny.
If only he could decode her thoughts, and get past all the barriers she was holding against him. If only he could go back in time and...
The thought of time made him look at Hermione again, who was thoroughly ignoring him. Harry didn't know if she was doing it because she was copying Lacie, or because he had slowly worked out her secret. Now that Harry thought about it, the more it actually made sense.
Hermione had a time-travelling machine and she was using it to attend multiple classes at once. Although, as Harry mulled over it, it would be difficult to hide a time machine that would constantly be accessible after classes… He wondered with a smirk if it was going to be a blue police-box that would be awaiting him after he begged Hermione to show him her time machine.
It was exactly the sort of thing that Lacie would have frowned upon. It was reckless and dangerous, and from all of the television and films that he had watched, he knew that it was yet another thing that he had no business meddling in.
Oh, but did Harry yearn to meddle. He hadn't had many childhood dreams whilst growing up, but this was one of them.
The way that Hermione was almost sprinting out of the Great Hall after the first bell chimed, meant that Harry had to rush to be able to catch up to her. Ron rolled his eyes at her eagerness, preferring to wait for the warning bell before heading off to class and flinging one more insult at Lacie before leaving. Harry stood up, to the surprise of Ron, and muttered that he wanted a word with Hagrid before the class started. Ron left him to it and Harry almost ran out of the Great Hall.
The benefit to Oliver's rigorous Quidditch training, it seemed, was that he caught up to Hermione with ease just outside of the Entrance Hall. He called after her, which only seemed to spur her on. He was fitter than her though, and was carrying less books so it was only a matter of time before he pulled her aside. She looked at him with such a frightened look that Harry dropped her arm as if it was molten lava.
He took a deep breath, and it seemed like she was also preparing herself to answer anything he had to say. He looked around them and saw only the empty expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. The rest of the class hadn't left for Care of Magical Creatures yet.
"I know how you're getting to all of your classes."
Hermione didn't even look surprised, in fact, she looked resigned. She did make an attempt to deny everything, though.
"I-I don't…"
Harry felt his temper flare at his lie as he whispered, "You are such a hypocrite! You have the nerve to lecture me about being reckless and you're…"
"R-Reckless?" she spluttered, "I only use it to attend classes, not to hunt down mass murderers, Harry."
Harry smiled at her and said, "I thought you didn't know what I was talking about."
Hermione's blinked at him for a few moments before her mouth fell open. Harry could hear the cogs working in her mind, but was slightly startled when she grumbled and ground out, "I've been dropping hints for Lacie for weeks, and you get it just by a vague reference about a man in a bloody blue box."
x-x-x-x-x
Professor Lupin was acting strange, Lacie had noticed with reticence.
It was not because he was off-sick perpetually and needed substituting on a monthly basis, he was still a better Professor than Professors Lockhart and Quirrell combined, but it was infuriating. It was almost the norm, and Seamus often had a running bet with the rest of their House as to who would be the next substitute. After their disastrous session with Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall had taken the mantle. There was a thousand-to-one bet that Professor Dumbledore would substitute. There was a two-to-one for Professor Snape, and someone would get a detention.
No, Professor Lupin's lunar illness was not the cause of Lacie's concern.
It had started on a rather peculiar morning, where her mother had sent her yet another package. Her mother had started showering Draco and her with parcels, cakes and sweets and quills and trinkets. It was guilt, guilt that she had been such a spineless Grindylow and ran back to their father. Draco and Lacie often stared unhappily at each other across the Great Hall at breakfast and sighed as they opened their packages.
She wondered what it would be this time. The presents were so frequent, so excessive that Lacie had to simply give it away to her Housemates. It had gotten to the point where even Ron was making requests.
Could you just mention it to your mum that you love those little chocolate genoise cakes? He had asked, after she had shoved fondant fancies at him.
That morning, her mother had sent her a small box. Inside was a note stating that she had had it commissioned, and so long as she wore it, Sirius Black would not touch her.
Curious about what could scare Sirius Black, Lacie opened the box.
Inside was a delicate necklace, with a small crest on it and when she realised what it was, she dropped the box on the table. Hermione looked up from The Daily Prophet and raised an eyebrow. Ron peered over her shoulder, and she watched as his lips pulled into a frown. He was probably disappointed it was not cake, or sweets.
"What did she send you? Truffles?" Hermione asked with amusement. Of course, her best friend could laugh about truffles, a year after her brush with Doxy venom. Lacie shook her head.
"The crest of the House of Black on a necklace of pure silver," Lacie said turning the open box towards Hermione and grimacing.
"Wow, a family trinket."
Hermione lifted a cup of tea to her lips as Lacie handed her the note. She took it with her free hand.
"Pure silver," she noted after putting the note back on the table and sipping her tea, "you Malfoys are certainly not misers."
Lacie pulled a face as she pulled the necklace from the box and played with it between her fingers.
"What I do not understand is, if Sirius Black was blasted off the Black family tree, why would he respect the crest of his House enough to stay away from it?" Hermione asked.
"Well, silver is known to ward off evil," Lacie noted as she played with the chain. "It is a good charm to wear, if not completely tacky."
"And if you ever run into a werewolf, you could always throw it at him," Harry said. When the people looked at him with slight surprise, he muttered, "I did do the essay that Professor Snape set for us, you know, about werewolves."
"And here I was, mistaking you for a Quidditch athlete," Hermione said in mock disbelief. "Will you help me with my Charms homework?"
"And here I was, mistaking you for a child prodigy," Harry smiled back. "I actually have Quidditch practice, and I know how much you want us to win that Quidditch Cup."
"No one wants the Quidditch Cup more than Wood," Ron chimed in with the rest of the Gryffindors. Lacie snorted at the running joke. Even a few Hufflepuffs had joined in. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, who only smiled at her. Lacie did not know what it was, but Harry and Hermione seemed to get on too well for Lacie's liking as of late.
The green monster reared its ugly head before being forced back down with her mother's admonitions. Lacie sighed.
"Even if it wards off werewolves, how many werewolves do you know?" Ron asked nonchalantly as he shovelled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
"That is true," Lacie mused. "Where am I going to stumble across a werewolf at Hogwarts?"
Lacie jumped back as a teacup shattered next to her as it hit the table.
Hermione dropped her teacup. It smashed as it hit the table. Hermione looked horrified as she tried to grab several napkins to clean up the mess. Lacie smirked and shook her head. Whilst she did not see the point of the trinket, she unhooked the clasp and put it on. It was still pretty, and not everyone would notice or understand the meaning of the crest.
Professor Lupin did though.
Lacie had never seen a grown man smile at her one moment, and then pale. Not that, Professor Lupin, who was constantly ill, wasn't already pale but he looked as if he was going to faint. He passed it off, drinking copious glasses of water and pretending that he was alright, but his gaze would fall on Lacie and he would stutter and freeze. Ron nudged her with his elbow and whispered, "What did you do to Lupin?"
"Nothing," Lacie replied, feeling confused as the Professor downed another glass of water. He hurried through his notes, shuffled his papers repeatedly. Something was making him nervous.
Something was also making Hermione nervous, her gaze darted from Lacie to Professor Lupin several times over the course of the class. Professor Lupin raced through the homework assignments and finished the class twenty minutes early.
"Maybe he's ill again," Harry shrugged as they slowly gathered their things. Lacie had half a mind to ask the Professor if he was feeling alright, but dismissed the idea. The Professor was firmly sat at his desk, and rustling through books with agitation.
Two weeks passed, and Professor continued to teach classes. After that first class, he seemed to have regained some of his composure but he was definitely avoiding Lacie. She had tried to ask him about her essay, but he was never available for her. When he saw her in a corridor, he would turn on his heel and hurry away. If Lacie absent-mindedly played with her necklace in class, Professor Lupin would freeze and stop the class. On one occasion, a few days before he was going to be off due to his illness, he had walked out of the class after ten minutes.
Hermione knew something was wrong, and hissed in a not-so-subtle way to tuck her necklace away before her Defence class. Lacie did so, but she also pulled it out to fidget with it. She tucked it away when Professor Lupin had left the class.
Is Professor Lupin intimidated by the House of Black?
He returned, looking slightly better and carried on with the class. Every so often, his gaze would slide over to her and when he noticed that her necklace was tucked into her shirt, he seemed to breathe a little easier. It was the first time in weeks since Professor Lupin taught a class so confidently that Lacie thought that the Professor was returning to normal.
Or so she had thought.
Lacie rolled her eyes dramatically when she saw Cedric leaning on the wall opposite the Defence classroom after her class. It was something that seemed to elicit a lopsided grin. He pointed at her, and gestured that he wanted to speak to her. Rolling her eyes again, she muttered to an amused Hermione that she would catch up to her. Her friend had nodded, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.
"We have to stop meeting like this, people will talk," she said, nervously casting a look over her shoulder.
Cedric shrugged. "Let them talk, do you have any plans after our piano lesson on Saturday?"
"Not really, no."
At that, Cedric beamed at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, he looked rather nervous but he did not let it show in his next question. "Great, then how about we go to Hogsmeade after our piano lesson?"
Lacie narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips as she snorted, "You have something unpleasant planned."
He pointed at her to correct her, whilst putting himself in a defensive stance, "Your mother has something unpleasant planned."
Precisely at that moment, someone dropped a stack of books behind them and Lacie whirled around. Professor Lupin had paled again, parchment and books strewn across the floor. Cedric immediately offered to help but the Defence Professor stiffly waved his wand and everything stacked up and levitated into the air. Professor Lupin gave them a scared look before hurrying down the busy corridor, books and paper following him in his wake.
Cedric took a step back, and looked at Lacie with a sad smile. "So Hogsmeade?"
Lacie was distracted when she answered, "I… Yes, sure. Professor Lupin?"
She went to follow the hurrying Professor, but thought better of it. She looked up to see Cedric's lips pull into a lopsided smile.
"Another Professor scared by the big-bad Lacerta Malfoy?"
"N-No… He has been acting quite strangely as of late."
"He's always been strange with me, so it's nothing new with me."
Lacie cocked her eyebrow. "I thought every Professor simply adored you."
"I think it would be a stretch to say that Professor Snape adored anyone," Cedric snorted, before shaking his head. "At least Professor Lupin doesn't have it in him to be caustic."
Lacie frowned at that. She had never known Professor Lupin to be off with anybody, but he was not exactly off with her either. It was as if he was frightened of her, for some reason that Lacie did not know.
"Brilliant Professor, though," Cedric acquiesced. "Much better than Professor Lockhart, and also you agreed to Hogsmeade, so see you on Saturday!"
Lacie huffed as Cedric hurried down the corridor, his managing to walk backwards with a wide grin on his face. He gave her a large wave, almost knocking over a first-year who was walking behind him. Lacie nearly fell to her knees as she laughed, and Cedric profusely apologised to the blushing Ravenclaw. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he gave Lacie another wide grin before walking away, spring in his step.
If he was a different person, she might have fallen in love with him. If she was a different person, Cedric would have held her at an arm's length in case of misplaced affections. Their understanding was clear, there would be nothing beyond friendly banter, which suited Lacie just fine. On the other hand, girls like Lavender would not be fine, and would grate her ad nauseam, but that was why Silencing Charms existed. Or the Langlock jinx, she supposed.
Lacie strolled towards the library, wondering if Hermione would be amongst the time-travelling books or in one of the Magizoology aisles. It turned out, she was at neither and Lacie checked every little nook and cranny to conclude that Hermione was not there. Her best friend had most likely gone to the Common Room with the rest of their Housemates. She sighed in resignation.
She passed the books on jurisdiction and saw a familiar flash of blonde and smiled. She had not spoken properly to Draco for weeks, not since their barbed exchange during Muggle Studies. He had also started to skive Muggle Studies altogether, as well as keeping to himself in any other class that they shared. He spoke to her at a distance, and every so often he would catch her looking at him knowingly.
Stupidly, she had forgiven him for his comment about Harry even if she was still reeling from it. Draco would always be the one to find a weakness and exploit it, it was what made him a Slytherin, a Malfoy at that. If Lacie was not so tragically noble, she may have shot back a retort.
She crept behind him as he studiously scanned the books in front of him, so closely his nose might have touched the pages. She wrapped her hands around his face, covering his eyes.
"Guess who?"
"An insufferable Gryffindor with a penchant for childish games."
Lacie removed her hands, and planted them on her hips. "Says the one who got engaged before he stopped needing the use of a teddy."
"Engaged and dumped before he stopped needing the use of Ladon, have a bit of respect."
She snorted, wondering how Draco managed to keep his ratty toy dragon hidden from the rest of the boys in their dormitory. She wasn't surprised that he had kept it, after all this time. Lacie pulled the chair beside him back and sat in it, propping her head up with her hand. "I missed you."
"I, on the other hand, have been far too busy to miss you."
Lacie rolled her eyes and glanced at the work in front of him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw what it was he was researched. "Why are you looking at the judicial appeal process?"
"Why are you not looking at the judicial appeal process?"
Lacie made a derisive sound, "Hermione must have ripped this library apart looking for something, but it is impossible. Father has far too many people on his side."
"Perhaps, the route that you should take should not be Wizarding and more… unconventional," Draco trailed off, and he had a mischievous look on his face. Lacie followed his train of thought and her brows knitted.
"By unconventional, you mean Muggle."
"And I think Granger might have a few ideas for that."
"I suppose, thank you," she leant down do press a kiss to his cheek and he leaned into her, despite not looking away from his books. She turned to leave, readying herself to present the idea to her friend when Draco interrupted her. "Do not tell her I suggested it."
Lacie raised an eyebrow at her stubborn brother. She asked gently, "Another one of your secrets?"
"You know she will not consider it, if you tell her the truth."
Lacie silently agreed and nodded. "Anything else?"
"Have you asked Diggory for help with the appeal yet?"
"What can Cedric do?" Lacie asked absently with amusement. "Charm them into overturning their decision?"
Draco lifted his gaze towards her, a glower firmly fixed on his face.
"Has three years of being in Gryffindor made you dense?" Draco asked venomously.
Lacie glared at him in response, annoyance bristling through her as she replied, "I am not dense."
"Then answer me this, where does Diggory's father work?"
"Department of the Regulation of Magical Creatures," Lacie snapped. "He mostly oversees the Beast... Division, Draco you are a genius, thank you, thank you!"
She kissed him again, this time on each cheek and ruffled his hair. His face went from a rosy pink to beetroot at her reaction. He muttered something under his breath, pushing her off him. He gave her a look, as if telling her to go, to hurry and tell Granger. She beamed at him as she rushed out of the library.
First, Hermione. Then, Cedric. The appeal would be successful. They were going to save Buckbeak.
Draco was going to save Buckbeak, Lacie thought with glee as she sped through the corridors and up the Grand Staircase. She leapt over trick steps, taking two steps at a time. She saw the looks of disbelief as she ran, people unable to believe that she could run all those flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. She could give all the 'athletic' Quidditch players a run for their money with how fit she was.
When she reached the seventh floor, she noticed that her silver necklace had fallen out from under her shirt. It bobbed as she ran, and she stopped to tuck it back under her shirt. She caught her reflection in a window and stared at it. She straightened herself up, admiring the crest she was playing with between her fingers.
It was an odd thing to give, silver. She would have expected platinum or gold, something ostentatious and boastful. Those precious metals would be more befitting of a Malfoy. What had she said? Silver is known to ward off evil. Her mother had hoped that Sirius Black would be afraid of the crest once he set his eyes upon it, but that would be of little use if she had to keep it hidden from Professor Lupin. Lacie twisted the chain around her finger, and watched her reflection. It was as if the Defence Professor was allergic to silver, she mused.
Silver is known to ward off evil… he's always been strange with me… where does Diggory's father work?... Beast...Beast…Beast… silver is known to ward off evil… maybe he's ill again… put it away!... silver is known to ward off evil.
Hermione was squinting at a textbook when Lacie found her. She did not hesitate to ask, instead grabbing her friend by the arm and dragging her to their empty dormitory. Hermione did not struggle, and Lacie could almost hear her entertained thoughts. She gave her a look, as if to ask, What has Cedric said to get the unflappable Lacerta Malfoy in a tizzy?
Lacie slammed the dormitory door shut, letting go of Hermione to check that there was no other person lurking in their bathroom. She returned to see that Hermione had sat down on her bed with her arms crossed, lips curved into a gentle smile.
Lacie drew in a sharp breath before asking without hesitation, "When were you going to tell me that Professor Lupin is a werewolf?"
That seemed to wipe the smile off Hermione's face with in an instant.
a/n: two updates in one week? Well, this is a bonus as I have exams for the rest of the month and won't update during that time. Hopefully, this is my last set of exams, and adult life awaits.
Sonnet 141 is probably one of my favourite poems, and I have been dying to use it somewhere in its entirety almost in the context I used it in. I, personally, would like to hear a recital of it without intense analysis because it's beautiful on its own but it was necessary to the plot.
Also, did I make Harry Potter a Whovian? Yes, I bloody did. I refuse to believe that the son of James Potter did not break the rules during his life with the Dursleys to watch Doctor Who.