CHAPTER 40

I groan at the reflection of myself in the mirror in the Slytherin girls' bathroom, begrudgingly admitting that Zoe has wonderful taste in dresses. I received it via owl—not Milo of course because he is far too small to carry the box it came in—three days ago.

The strapless black satin dress falls just above my knees. A wide, icy-blue ribbon wraps around my waist, where I've stashed my wand, and I don't know why it makes me immensely happy that she somehow managed to match the ribbon with my eyes. Zoe, ever the loving friend, sent a pair of heels that matches the ribbon. I'll have to send her a long letter thanking her for putting so much effort into this. It's not like this even matters—it's just the Slughorn Christmas Party.

But I'll also have to complain to her for sending me something so nice because it's uncomfortable for me to wear anything like this—in fact, it's my first time ever wearing anything this nice.

My long black curls nearly graze the top of the blue ribbon, and though I want to do something with them, I have no idea what. This party is not worth the stress. I should never have said yes, but since Draco needs me, there is no choice.

The quicker I get to the common room, the quicker I can get to the party, and the quicker I get to the party, the quicker I can leave. With that in mind, I go down to the common room and am blinded by a bright flash. "Christopher! What the hell was that?"

"A picture, of course."

I level my gaze at him.

"I'm not going to apologize if that's why you're looking at me like that."

I grimace. "Where's Zabini? Have you seen him?"

"He and Draco went up to the dormitories a moment ago. They'll be back soon," Astoria says. "You look great by the way, Charlotte."

I grin at her, then walk over to the table where Daphne sits and lean against it. "Do I look fancy enough to fit in with Slughorn's favorites?" I ask her.

She sets her quill down and leans back in her chair to look at me. Her eyes drift over the dress, lingering on the blue ribbon for a moment, before she finally looks me in the eye. "I think so, yeah. You like nice." She smiles at me and nods. "I think you should wear stuff like this more often, Charlotte. It's a nice change of pace from your normal robes."

"Ugh, no, everything about this dress is uncomfortable. And don't get me started on the shoes. This type of attire is for special occasions only."

Pansy walks into the room about that time and sniggers to the other sixth-year girls with her before saying, "What are you all dressed up for?"

"The Slug Club Christmas Party," I answer tightly. "I see you didn't merit an invite."

Her face turns a slight shade of red. "And just who got stuck going with you?"

"Blaise Zabini asked me to go with him." I glance back over at Daphne and wink at her. "He said that I was the only sixth-year Slytherin girl that his mother would approve of, because he needed to take someone who she would consider beautiful. He practically begged me." I hear Daphne almost laugh.

Pansy looks just about ready to scream at me when Draco's voice interrupts her. "Charlotte," he says, "you look beautiful." On that note, Pansy storms from the room. Christopher smiles at me sheepishly before moving to the side. Draco leans close to whisper in my ear, "Keep an eye on Snape while you're at the party."

"Will do."

"And try to do so without getting into a fight with him. I know how you can be."

I let out a short laugh.

"Malfoy," Zabini says from the other side of the room.

Draco steps aside and motions to me. "Your date for the evening."

"Not a date," I quickly interject.

Zabini walks up to me. "You look amazing. My mother would most certainly approve."

"We should probably get going," I say. This whole ordeal simply cannot be over fast enough.

Draco leans to Zabini and whispers something to him. Then Zabini offers me his arm, which I take for the sake of formalities, and we leave to go to Slughorn's office.

"What'd Draco say to you?" I ask Zabini as we make our way through the castle.

"He told me that if I hurt you in any way, he'll make me—what was it he said? 'Rue the day I was born.' The two of you are closer than you let on, aren't you?"

"In a way."

"Who is he to you? The two of you dated, right? You still love him?"

I can only hope that we reach the party before I have to go into too much detail about my relationship with Draco. "It's complicated. I don't love him like I used to, but I do love him. He's . . . he's like . . ." I can't seem to put it into words.

"He's like a brother of sorts?" Zabini offers.

I can honestly say that I've never thought of Draco as my brother. "I guess, sort of, I don't know. I mean, I'm not in love with him, but I do love him, and we watch after each other . . . so I guess we could be considered siblings."

"How do you stay that close to someone you were once in love with?"

"Why does it matter to you? The break-up wasn't a dreadful thing. It was hard for both of us, but it was mutual. We just wouldn't work out, and we knew that. So now we're friends."

"Just friends?"

"Can we let the subject of Draco go? We'll never date each other again. We simply care about each other."

"My apologies. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. So why aren't you in Potions?"

"Wasn't up to scratch. Didn't get the marks necessary."

"What're you going to do after Hogwarts?"

"An Obliviator. And you?"

"I'm gonna travel the world with my mother until I settle down and have a family."

I forgot that his mother has had seven husbands, all of whom died somehow and left her loads of money. And yet men still keep wanting to marry her. She must be astounding. "Sounds lovely."

"Here we are," he says.

He goes to open the door to Slughorn's office, and I'm amazed at how the professor has set up his room—granted, I've never seen it in any other way considering I've never actually tried speaking with him or visiting him in his office. The ceiling and walls have been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looks as though we're all inside a vast tent, and an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling, filled with real fluttering fairies that resemble brilliant specks of light, bathes the room in a red light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounds like mandolins issues from a distant corner, and a number of house-elves are negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they hold above their heads, which makes them look like little roving tables.

"Professor!" Zabini calls to the wide-bellied man walking toward us.

"Ah, Blaise," Slughorn greets him. "So glad you could make it. And who is this?" He smiles at me. Should I be offended he doesn't remember me?

"Charlotte Rodgers," Zabini introduces us. "She's in my year, a Slytherin."

Professor Slughorn reaches to shake my hand and I nervously accept. "Sixth year? You aren't in my Potions Class."

"No, sir. Only got an 'Acceptable' on my Potions O.W.L." We've had this exact conversation almost. Yeah, I'm definitely offended he doesn't remember. I care nothing for this man, but it bothers me I'm so easily forgettable.

He nods, then becomes distracted by a student entering the room and walks away. I look at Zabini. "Charming, isn't he?"

The boy shrugs. "Not so bad when you're in his class. I'm going to get something to eat." Then he walks off.

This is going to be an awful night. I turn around and skim the crowd of people who're already here and realize that there is not a single person here that I feel like speaking with. I walk over to one of the tables and pick up a glass of mead. Then I see Hermione standing off to the side and decide to talk to her. "Who are you trying to avoid?" I ask her.

"My date," she says, scanning through the room with a look of panic.

"Who'd you come with?"

"Cormac McLaggen. And he's quite dreadful. He's gone to get me something to eat." Then she meets my gaze. "Who're you here with?"

"Blaise Zabini. But he's run off somewhere."

"Why him?"

"A favor to a friend."

She looks about ready to ask me about this but freezes. "Bugger, there he is," she whispers. "I've got to go." Then she dashes away, leaving me standing there. My eyes wander around the crowd again, finally doing what I promised Draco I'd do—trying to find Snape to keep an eye on him. Why is Trelawney here? Come to notice it, there are a lot of older people here, not just students. Are those vampires? What the hell kind of party is this? I see Zabini standing with Slughorn and start that way, not wanting to be left alone. There's a reason I don't care about being in the Slug Club—I don't like being social in situations like this because it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Had Draco not seemed desperate, I would not have come here tonight.

"I thought you weren't part of the Slug Club?" a voice asks me.

I turn to see Professor Snape standing beside me. It didn't take too long to find him (or for him to find me), and I smile at the ease with which I am accomplishing my task. "Where did you come from?"

"I've been standing here since I first got here; it's not my fault if you didn't observe your surroundings before roaming around. What are you doing here?"

"I got invited," I say, looking around the room for a place I can stand alone while still watching Snape.

"By whom?"

"Blaise Zabini," I say, still searching the room.

"It's rude not to look at someone when in a conversation with them," he comments.

I glance over at him, his face hard as stone but with a slightly amused look in his eyes, and I decide to give up on my attempt to escape and keep my eye on him from afar. "And since when do you care about people being rude or not?"

"I've never really cared." Then he adds, probably just to upset me, "That's a nice dress, did you steal it?"

"I'm offended, so I am not going to answer that." I look around again and realize that I've just missed Harry. He's going to a far corner, which means he probably found Hermione.

"For one who is 'offended' you don't really act it," he says.

"What happened to our olive branch? And by that I, of course, mean the butterbeer."

His lip twitches like he forces back a smile. "Very well, Miss Rodgers." He glances over at me. "I'm surprised you agreed to come here with Zabini, considering Mr. Weasley."

"I'm doing a friend a favor. And Fred knows about this."

"Would this friend happen to be a Mr. Malfoy?"

"It's entirely possible, of course."

"And if I asked what you were doing for him?"

I smile sadly. "If it was that important, you can rest assured that I'd tell you."

"I don't believe that for a moment."

A short, airy laugh escapes through my nose. "I'm a member of the Order now, so I'd have to tell you . . . in theory."

"You should keep in mind that I'm the only one within the castle walls who can truly help him because I'm the only one of the two of us that he trusts." He looks at me gravely. What makes him think Draco doesn't trust me? He's not talking about Draco. "And you and I both know that Malfoy needs as much help as he can get."

"Ah, Professor Snape, there you are," Slughorn says, motioning for Snape to join him.

I'm left standing there alone until Zabini returns and hands me a glass of mead. "A pathetic excuse of a party," he grumbles to me.

"Another glaring reason I have no desire to be a part of the Slug Club."

"I'm beginning to think you're right about it not being worth it."

"Finally seeing the light?"

"Yes. Would you like to leave?"

"No, I promised Draco . . . something," I say.

He spins around and pulls two chairs up. We both sit down. "Where'd you get the dress?"

"Remember Zoe Accrington?" He nods. "Well, she sent it to me."

"You're friends with Accrington? I don't understand why Draco thinks so highly of you when you surround yourself with blood traitors and worse."

"Perhaps that's because Draco knows more about me than you do."

Zabini flashes a broad, white smile. "How would you like to rectify that?"

"You're saying you want to get to know me? You want to be more associated with this blood traitor than you already are just by asking me here? That doesn't seem like your best course of action. And honestly, it doesn't sound like it would be beneficial to either of us."

He raises his eyebrows. "You might be right. It wouldn't be beneficial to either of us. But it might be fun."

"Hmm, is that so?"

"Yes."

I open my mouth to say something else when I see Filch dragging Draco by the ear into the party. I catch my cousin's eye, and he looks positively enraged: jaw set, brow furrowed, eyes flashing. "Professor Slughorn," Filch wheezes. "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor." Draco, what have you done? "He claims to have been invited to your party and been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco jerks free from the Hogwarts caretaker. "All right, I wasn't invited!" he roars. "I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

"No, I'm not!" Filch exclaims, though he looks the exact opposite. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"

"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," Slughorn tries to diffuse the tension the scene is causing in his party because God forbid his party be disturbed. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."

But this doesn't ease Draco's fury. He so obviously doesn't want to be here, and I can't say I blame him. If he was trying to find a way to work the Vanishing Cabinet, then being forced to come to this party is the absolute last thing he'd want to do. I glance at Snape who looks angry, slightly concerned, and annoyed, which almost makes me wish I had taken a short moment to warn him of Draco's intentions tonight. Perhaps I should have told him the truth. He might be right—he's the only one who can truly help Draco at this point. What am I supposed to do? How could I possibly help him? Snape is the only one who can actually save Draco.

No, it's Draco's plan, and if he decides he wants Snape's help, he can talk with Snape himself. I won't be Snape's informant against Draco. I have no right to supply the professor with information. Besides, Dumbledore knows that Draco is trying to kill him, and if Dumbledore has opted not to go to Snape, then I have no reason to go to him either.

Filch leaves, and Draco and Snape both school their features, Draco immediately thanking Slughorn for his graciousness. I can't believe he got caught this early into the party. It was truly pointless for me to come here. A complete and total waste of my time. All the stress for no reason.

As I watch Draco try to slink away from Filch and Slughorn, it occurs to me that I should start giving Draco more of the Euphoria-Inducing Elixir. He looks ill, especially in this light and surrounded by healthier people, yet he refuses to take as much of the potion because he claims I need it more than he does. His stress and his sorrow and his worry are taking their toll on him.

"I'd like a word with you, Draco," Snape announces.

"Oh, now, Severus," Slughorn says, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard—"

"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," Snape responds curtly. "Follow me, Draco."

I bite my tongue when Snape escorts Draco from the party. Even when I do my part, something fails. This isn't on me. This is on Draco and Draco alone. Possibly Filch. All I know is that I am not to blame.

I glance over at Harry who excuses himself to the bathroom. Then I turn to Zabini. "I think it's fitting that we leave now," I say quietly, seeing no point to stay here any longer now that my task of keeping an eye on Snape is moot.

"I thought you'd never ask." He offers me his arm once again, and the two of us dodge out of the party and make our way back to the Slytherin Dungeons. I look up and down every corridor for any sight of Harry, or even Draco and Snape, but see none. "Next time, we should just make an appearance then leave."

"What do you mean 'next time'?"

"You don't think there will be a next time?"

I scoff at him, and luckily it's dark enough that he can't see me. "Of course not."

"Was I that bad of a date?"

"It wasn't a date. And there won't be a next time because I have no desire to waste another night at a Slug Club party."

"Is it that blood traitor Weasley?" he sneers.

I jerk my arm out of his. "I only agreed to go to the party because Draco needed me to. I explained to you that it was not a date. Why are you acting like this?"

"Because you're wasting your time with that blood traitor!"

"Stop calling him that."

"It's true, isn't it? You know it's true." I huff at him and start away, but he grabs my arm. "You're blowing things out of proportion! I thought this evening went well until—"

"Until you began verbally attacking someone I love."

"I—"

"If I had said anything against your mother, you'd have thrown a fit and possibly attacked me."

"Because that's my mum!"

"And I'm in love with Fred! I have the right to be upset about you criticizing him!"

"It's completely different!"

"It's not!"

"How can you not say that it's different? You must be joking. Fred Weasley is just a git who escaped Hogwarts in a flashy manner."

"He's not a—"

"Do you really think he's just waiting for you to get out of Hogwarts? Please, he'll be gone by Easter, possibly by Christmas. And that's if he hasn't already started fooling around with that girl who works in the shop."

Red. That's all I see. Just a big scene of red. And I lunge at him, clawing at his face and pounding on his chest the best I can do in these sightless circumstances. But before I can do any real damage, he grabs both of my arms and throws me against the wall, successfully pinning me there. "That was a mistake," he growls.

I rip my hand free from him and strike him across the face. Then I quickly remove one of the heels I'm wearing, hold it high in the air, and bring it down on his head. He moans and tries getting back up.

Before I can attack him again, I hear someone shout my name, which is quickly followed by two arms wrapping around me and restraining my attacks. "Calm down." I open my eyes and find Draco looking sternly at me. I nod. "What happened?"

"Crazy bitch!" Zabini shouts. "Now, move aside, Malfoy. I don't want to hurt you."

Draco and I both turn to see Zabini pointing his wand at us. "What did I tell you, Zabini? I told you to take care of her. And now you're trying to—what?—hex her?"

"Move aside, Malfoy," Zabini snarls.

"If I do that, I assure you that you'll be the only one who gets hurt tonight. You don't want to start this with her. You need to put the wand down."

"I said move."

Before I can even register what happens, Draco whips out his wand and fires a jinx at Zabini, then expels his wand from his hand. As my brain finally catches up with my eyes, I see Zabini's front teeth growing at an alarming rate. "You might want to go to the hospital wing before your teeth ruin your looks," I say coolly before I can stop myself. He looks as if he wants to attack again.

Draco will get into trouble for this, especially with the way he and Snape are on such rocky terms right now. With a frustrated sigh, I remove my wand and cast a memory charm at him, successfully altering his recollection of the recent events. He furrows his brow in confusion, and I take this moment to fill my voice with concern and say, "Blaise, what happened to you? You need to go to the hospital wing!"

His hand finds his rapidly growing teeth, and with a horrified look, he darts away. Draco turns to me with a wide smile. "You have to teach me that."

"We should get going before Filch finds us. I'll need to know what happened with Snape."

The door to the Slytherin common room closes behind us. "Fine, but you still can't tell him what I'm doing."

I nod. "Fine."

Draco places his hand on my shoulder. "You looked great tonight. And the sight of you whacking Zabini with your shoe will never leave my mind." Then he goes to his dormitory.

As I head toward my bed, I know that sleep will not be in the cards for me tonight. My adrenaline is pumping still for what I've just done, and it's putting me on edge, almost making me want to run before I have to face tomorrow. I'm actually not prepared to leave for the holiday. As much as that desperate part of me wants to see my mother for the holiday and actually spend time with her, I want to run away. I'm growing anxious. What if I get sucked in and find myself wanting to please Bellatrix more than I want to be in the Order? I'm afraid of my own lack of willpower.