TW : blood

I was inspired by the fanfiction All The Young Dudes for a scene at the end of this chapter. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it, it's the best fanfiction I've read in my life!

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Hermione

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Explaining to her parents that she had been petrified for nearly a month was one of the strangest conversations Hermione had ever had. She tried as best she could to tell the story without scaring them, minimising the sordid details of the story as much as possible as she watched their frightened eyes.

"A big snake? But how could it walk around the school?" asked her father.

"It was using the pipes, behind the walls. And Harry could hear him because he speaks Parseltongue, which is the language of snakes. He's the only one in the school who understands it, because it's... some kind of power you're born with."

"And why didn't he ask it to stop petrifying people then, if he can tame snakes?"

"Uh... He doesn't really tame them." explained Hermione with hand gestures trying to make herself understood. "He can hear them and talk to them, but he can't have a conversation with them, and besides, that snake there was very nasty..."

"Is that why he petrified you? Because you're a friend of Harry's?" her mother asked.

"No."

"But why you specifically? How many students are there in the school?"

"It's complicated... Remember, when I told you about Draco Malfoy last summer?"

Both her parents shook their heads and Hermione fumbled even more:

"Yes, you know, the boy whose father fought with Arthur at Fleury and Botts."

"Ah, the blond boy? Yes?"

"He... well, his family rather, think I'd be less suited to learn magic because I'm Muggle-born."

Her father frowned even more than before:

"But that's silly, you're the first in the school. Doesn't he know you passed your exams?"

"Yes, but he's so internalised this idea that Muggle-borns were inferior that he's convinced I don't deserve my place at Hogwarts."

"What's that got to do with the big snake?" pressed her mother.

"I'm coming to that. There are quite a few wizards who think that way, that we're less talented in magic. And there's one wizard in particular, a wizard who practices dark magic and was at Hogwarts when he was young, who's desperate to get rid of us. So he used the snake he had in the Castle to petrify Muggle-borns."

Her mother placed a hand over her mouth at once:

"What? But how could he have a snake in the Castle? Didn't anyone notice it before?!"

"It was hidden in a secret room, which Harry and Ron discovered and they defeated it."

"Just the two of them?"

"No, with our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione purposely didn't detail this conversation further by telling them that the wizard in question wanted to kill Muggle-borns, that Draco Malfoy had called her a Mudblood during the year, and that the teacher in question had had his memories taken away by Ron's wand, which had been malfunctioning ever since he'd broken it when he'd landed in a tree with a tricked-out flying car they'd had to ride in because a house elf had stopped them from passing. His parents were already in enough of a state of shock to take in that kind of story.

"And what does Professor McGonagall think?" her mother asked in a small voice.

Hermione almost laughed at the confidence her parents had in the teacher.

"She was very proud of Harry and Ron when they defeated the snake, because they were very brave, and she cancelled the final exams as an end of year gift."

"Hmm. Wise decision." her father murmured, his eyes glazing over.

Hermione took advantage of the silence to gaze around the living room. It was even smaller than she remembered. She was sitting on her bench, and both of her parents were across from her on the couch, with two cups of tea in their hands that he hadn't touched during Hermione's story. Embarrassed, she munched on the end of her biscuit while she waited for her parents to digest what she had just told them.

She suspected that they would never have let her go to bed without her telling them what had happened to her for a month, especially after the letter they had received from McGonagall. Hermione watched her parents drink their teas absentmindedly, trying to understand what she had just said.

As much as she wanted to include them in her life, Hermione realised with sadness that her parents would never understand. They couldn't imagine what she had been through, because it was too unreal for them to comprehend. Her parents were Muggles, they were dentists, pragmatic, their only concerns in life were what they were going to eat in the evening and where they could go on holiday next summer. They were extremely understanding of their daughter, but that didn't take away from the fact that they would always be one step short of the truth.

She came to this painful conclusion as she looked at her fireplace, and she felt compassion for her parents as they tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together into something coherent.

She decided to cut the silence to try to lighten the mood:

"Anyway, I'm better now."

"Good for you!" her father threw in, eager to change the subject. "Danny will be thrilled, he hasn't stopped asking about you since the beginning of May."

"I'll go and see him tomorrow."

Hermione put her mug down on the table to show that she was going to bed. The Hogwarts Express trip had been exhausting, all she could think about was her bed.

"Oh, Mimi!" her father added at the last minute. "I forgot to tell you, we were thinking of going to France this summer, would you like that? We wanted to rent a car and do a little tour of the countryside, maybe visit your aunt near Dijon."

"Yes! Great!" exclaimed Hermione. "That would be great!"

"Okay, we'll book the tickets tomorrow." said her mother as she picked up their three cups.

Hermione

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Hermione spent the beginning of her summer holidays in the most Muggle way possible. She spent most of her time with Danny, often at his house, or in parks, or at the comic book shop around the corner. Sometimes Danny would go to the library with her, and they would sit at a table, him with a comic book and Hermione with a big book of English literature.

Danny didn't look anything like the boy from primary school. She didn't know if it was because she hadn't seen him in a year, or if it was because he'd really grown up, but she almost found it hard to recognize him when he greeted her on her doorstep the day after she arrived in London.

He wasn't as chubby as he used to be, and his hair wasn't cut in the same bowl as it always had been: it was longer and parted in irregular spikes. He had grown taller, now towering over her by several inches.

But the biggest change wasn't his cheeks or his hair.

"You have braces!" cried Hermione when she saw him smile.

Danny smiled a small, shy smile.

"Yes... your parents put them on me in May. I didn't tell you in my letters, so you'd be surprised. More space between my teeth!"

He opened his mouth and she saw that behind the braces, there was no longer the small gap between his teeth. Hermione made a little pout:

"So, you're leaving the Broken Teeth Club?"

Danny burst out laughing. When they were at school, and other students had made fun of them for their teeth (too wide for Danny, and too long for Hermione), they had decided to form a club. That was the first thing that had brought them together, the Broken Teeth Club. Hermione remembered it like it was yesterday.

When Mary was available, they also had sleepovers in each other's living rooms, which usually ended with duvets and pillows all over the place in front of the little TV, and they always fell asleep before they could finish the film. Sometimes Danny would join them too, and explain the backstory of the film while munching on popcorn with them.

Hermione was very happy with her holiday, but she still missed the wizarding world terribly. In order not to feel too 'out of place' during her July, she decided to add three things to her Muggle life.

Firstly, she subscribed to the Daily Prophet mailing list, which arrived every day around 9am, by owl. So she had to be very careful that Danny or Mary didn't notice a huge owl tapping at the window with the paper in its beak. That way, she would have news from the "other world", and wouldn't be lost when school started.

The second thing was that she always read so much. When Danny or Mary weren't around, she would read her school books or do her homework, and when they were around, she would pull out a Muggle book. She loved classic English literature as much as the books in the Hogwarts Library. Whenever she was at home, she would sit on her bench with a cup of tea and devour pages and pages of books so that she would not stop learning everything she could.

The third thing was that she wrote to her friends very regularly. The person she talked to the most was Ron, because he never had a problem receiving mail by owl. Harry was more complicated, she was afraid of her aunt and uncle's reaction, so she kept contact to a minimum. She often wrote to Neville too, who told her about his holidays with his Uncle Algie or his grandmother.

In mid-July, her parents took a few days off to go to France. At the same time, Danny went to visit distant relatives in Wales, and a few days later, Ron travelled to Egypt with all his family.

Hermione spent the plane ride reading, partly to avoid looking out the window because she was afraid of heights. Her mother was even worse: she clung to the armrests of the seat fiercely for the entire flight.

Once they arrived, they rented a small car in which they stored all their belongings and started their journey. They stopped in several towns in France, including Beaune and Dole, which were two charming villages. His parents were delighted as this was wine country and they could taste as much wine as they liked.

Hermione was delighted to see that the owls in the Daily Prophet made it to France. So in the evenings, when her parents stopped at small local hotels to spend the night, Hermione would read the paper out of sight, so that no Muggle would realise that the pictures were moving.

That evening, when Hermione unfolded the newspaper she had packed in her suitcase for the day, she was surprised to see that the entire cover was taken up by a large picture of a man with a waxy face and glassy eyes. His long hair was matted and fell over his shoulders. It looked like he was staring at Hermione, she felt a little shiver down her spine. Above the picture it read:

"SIRIUS BLACK, DANGEROUS PRISONER, HAS ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN"

Hermione hurriedly opened page 2 and read the entire article which explained the escape of the prisoner, who had killed thirteen people in the street twelve years earlier. Hermione read the article several times, ignoring the strange feeling in her throat as she read about his horrific murders and his coolness. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door of the hotel room and Hermione briskly hid the newspaper under her duvet.

"Yes?"

"It's me." her mother replied as she opened the door.

She gave her a big smile and went to get her things from the suitcase at the foot of Hermione's bed. Reassured, Hermione took out the newspaper again and continued reading.

"What are you reading? The wizarding newspaper?"

"Yes."

"Who is that man on the cover?"

"Sirius Black. A prisoner."

She folded the paper so that her mother couldn't see the title of the paper, lest she get worried.

"When you're done, can you come downstairs? Your dad ordered a charcuterie board and he can't finish it by himself."

"Coming!"

Hermione got up from the bed and followed her mother up the hotel stairs to join her father in the restaurant, leaving the Daily Prophet on the bed with the prisoner's horrible face moving imperceptibly.

Draco

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Draco's summer was happier than he could have imagined, because his father turned out to be absent. In one month he had to see him twice. He'd breeze by the Manor, always in a bad mood and in a hurry to get back to "take care of business at the Ministry." Draco didn't mind the absence at all, he was happy to spend time with his mother and friends without the constant pressure of running into his father and his crappy moods.

When he wasn't at the Manor, Draco was at Blaise's. They played Quidditch, laid out in the garden to soak up the sun, ate whatever they wanted in the kitchen. Blaise's mother was always happy to welcome Draco. They had dinner together almost every night, and sometimes even Narcissa came to spend time with Agate.

From time to time, Theo and Pansy came too. They didn't have as flexible parents as Narcissa, so they couldn't spend as much time at Blaise's as they wanted, but they still enjoyed it. On sunny afternoons, they often sat at the large garden table, drinking pumpkin juice and talking about anything.

Draco loved these moments, he felt so good, surrounded by his friends like that. Even though Pansy always ended up going home with a sad look on her face and Theo shook with fear at the thought of spending the evening with his father, Draco tried to make the best of those moments with them.

One evening towards the end of July, Draco was having dinner with his mother in the dining room. Draco found it hard to understand why they were still using this huge table for a dinner for two, when there was a perfectly functional and much smaller table in the kitchen.

Narcissa was reading the evening paper in front of her empty plate when Draco sat down opposite her. For a moment, her mother's face was hidden by the cover, which displayed a horrible face of a man Draco had never seen.

"Who is he?" he asked.

His mother folded the paper back to look at the cover:

"Sirius Black, a prisoner of Azkaban who escaped today."

Draco raised his eyebrows but didn't answer anything: he was hungry.

Narcissa finally folded the newspaper and placed it next to her plate, and the food materialized in front of them the second the paper hit the table. The new house elf, Chubby, had undergone some tough training from Narcissa to make everything as perfect as it was when Dobby was working.

Draco started eating straight away, but when he looked up he saw that his mother hadn't started and was staring into space.

"Mother? Is everything alright?"

She shook her head sharply and gave a false smile:

"Yes, yes."

She picked up her fork and bit into a potato without much desire.

"Are you sure?" he insisted.

Her cold gaze fell on the cover of the newspaper and her lips formed a tight chuckle.

"That man... Sirius Black... He's my cousin."

Draco paused his bite. He had expected anything but this. Still, he should have made the connection with the prisoner's last name, Black, as his mother's maiden name. The man's emaciated face and dirty hair were so opposite of his mother's physique that he would never have imagined she would know him.

"Your cousin?"

Draco thought back to the family tree his father had asked him to learn just before his first year at Hogwarts. He hadn't learned the name, but he figured he must be among those who had been burned from the line, disowned.

"Yes, the son of Orion and Walburga Black, my aunt."

"Did you know him well?"

Narcissa shook her head sharply, as if to clear herself of sharing a blood bond with this man:

"No! Only by sight. He was always hanging out with his gang of friends, at Hogwarts. They were always getting into as much mischief as they could, my sister and I thought it was deplorable."

She wrinkled her nose as she usually did when she was talking about something she didn't like very much. Then she took one last look at the man on the cover, before abruptly changing the subject:

"I spoke with Severus a few days ago, he told me you had some talent in Potions. Is that your favourite subject?"

"Yes, I think so. It's the one I like doing the most, anyway." Draco replied with a shrug. "I'm glad to know that all those study sessions are paying off."

"Who are you studying with?"

"With Theodore Nott, mostly. He's become a good friend of mine."

"The brown-haired boy, with the wavy hair?"

"Yes, exactly. He was a friend of Blaise's, and as we share the same dormitory..."

"I'm so glad." said his mother, tapping her napkin against her mouth. "He seems perfectly well-behaved. Not easy, with a father like that."

Draco looked up at this. His mother sounded like Pansy when she shared rumors like that.

"His father?"

"Yes. I have to admit I'm not a big fan of the man. Your father gets on well with him, they often did business together once upon a time, and whenever he invited him to the Manor I'd find an excuse to escape. He never struck me as a pleasant man."

"I don't remember him well." Draco admitted.

"That's normal, I did everything I could to make sure you crossed his path as little as possible!" cried his mother, scandalized. "Poor Theodore. His mother died under such awful circumstances..."

"Did she? What circumstances?"

Draco knew that Theo only had his father left, but he had never asked him how his mother had died. Narcissa wrinkled her nose further and curled her lips. She looked as if she was considering whether or not to say it, then shook her head:

"No, no. It's better you don't know until Theodore tells you, if he ever wants to talk about it. In any case, you should know that his father is just awful."

She continued to eat. Draco thought about the fact that Theo was the only one of his group of friends who was the most detached from the Pureblood values they all respected. He remembered that the first time he had spoken to him, Theo had told him that he didn't mind being in Ravenclaw. He'd always made a point of not being like his father, in name or habits.

He almost hesitated to tell his mother that Theo read Muggle books, but preferred not to: he had no idea what she would think of it and he didn't want Theo to fall in her esteem.

He saw on the clock that it was nearly 8pm, so he finished his meal in three big bites.

"I've got to go, I'm meeting Pansy." he said as he stood and swallowed his glass of water.

His mother smiled in amusement.

"Okay, have fun. I really like that Pansy, always very polite."

Draco suppressed a laugh: he really knew Pansy, and there was nothing polite about her. She was good at appearing to be good, when in reality she was just the opposite. She continued:

"I'm glad you've bonded with this girl. You'll make beautiful children."

Draco's smile immediately vanished from his face.

"What?!" he exclaimed in outrage.

His reaction caused Narcissa to look up at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"What is it?"

"You... Huh?!"

"With Pansy." her mother explained slowly. "When you're getting married."

"What?!" repeated Draco, flabbergasted. "How can you think I'm going to marry Pansy?"

"I don't know, I thought it was obvious?"

Draco was so stunned that he dropped back into his chair:

"Pansy is my best friend, I'm never going to marry her. Where did you get that idea?"

Narcissa shrugged, slightly giggling, as if she hadn't just come up with the most indecent sentence possible.

"Your father and I were friends too before we got married."

"It's not the same!" defended Draco in a high-pitched voice. "Pansy is... she's... she's my Pansy! I've known her since I was a baby! I'm not in love with her!"

"Okay, okay." his mother said, putting both palms in front of her, as if to apologize. "I didn't think you'd be so vehement about it, I apologize."

"And I didn't think you could think that! Did you really think I wanted to marry her?"

"I won't mention it again." she continued, taking the newspaper back.

Draco, outraged, preferred to leave. He went out the back door, and thankfully the fresh air felt good, as if it washed away what he had just heard. This was the second time someone had made a reference to a potential love life between him and Pansy. Didn't anyone understand their relationship?

As if he'd telepathically called her, Pansy crossed Draco's garden at that very moment. As he got closer to her, he wanted to tell her about what he had just heard, but was cut off by another discovery.

"Do you have a fringe?" he asked, surprised.

Pansy stopped in front of him. Her black hair was shorter, still in a bob, with a fringe just above her eyes that hid her forehead. She removed her headband, tossed it into the grass and curled her upper lip defiantly.

"Yes. Don't make fun of me, promise me Draco, make a promise right now! I wanted to try, and I cut it and if it's catastrophic, I'll apply a potion to make it grow back and I'll..."

"No, I like it." Draco cut in softly.

Pansy arched an eyebrow and a small smile played on her lips.

"You do?"

"Yes, it's very nice. It suits you."

He thought it highlighted her dark eyes, which was rather flattering. Pansy lay back in the grass and Draco did the same.

"What did your father think of it?" he asked, a little worried.

"Not much. He said it looked serious, but that I shouldn't have cut it myself. He called me a Muggle."

Draco grinned.

"'Nonsense, just for a fringe?"

"You know my father, always looking for the little thing to pick on me." she said with a sigh.

"Speaking of father..." began Draco. "My mother said something strange tonight. She told me that Theo's mother was killed under awful circumstances. Do you know what she was talking about?"

He saw that Pansy's eyes twitched in the same way that Narcissa's had a few minutes earlier.

"Vaguely. I heard she got killed, but I don't know how."

"What? You, you don't know a gossip about someone?" taunted Draco.

Pansy shook her head, her fringe swaying in time with her head:

"It's not really a gossip, it's a tragedy." she corrected. "I've already tried to talk to Theo about it, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it, and I didn't push it. But I know his father is a real tyrant, especially since Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"Yes, remember, this year? I could have spent Christmas Eve with Theo, but his father refused. Theo wouldn't tell me why, but anyway, his father put a spell on the door so he couldn't get out. He was locked inside his house for several days, he couldn't even send a letter. Fortunately, we communicated with Floo Powder."

"That's... horrible." commented Draco.

"Yeah, no wonder he reads so many books. He probably wanted to escape from home, and reading was the only way to do that."

Draco took some time to think about what Pansy had just told him. He knew that Theo's childhood had been particularly painful for him, but now that he was thinking about it, it was true that the boy didn't talk about it much. Yet Draco and Blaise were with him almost every day, and Theo spoke very little about his family.

Pansy changed the subject of discussion by pointing to the stars above them, and Draco listened to her soothing voice as she explained the constellations.

Hermione

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The trip to France lasted about ten days, but Hermione didn't see the time pass. They visited all sorts of Bourgogne wine cellars, chapels and pretty city centres full of cobblestones and open markets. Then, they stayed a few days with Hermione's aunt in Dijon.

Hermione loved France, its landscapes and the sun that warmed her cheeks as she walked. During these days, she totally forgot that she was a witch, she simply enjoyed her parents and the region to discover many new things.

Her witchy instincts would sometimes resurface, during visits to chapels or certain old buildings, where she would learn about regional witchy stories at the same time. She still got the Daily Prophet too, which was all about Sirius Black's escape. Between two alarming articles about Black's description with a reward offered to anyone with information about him, Hermione saw an advertisement that caught her eye:

Broom Kit: so you can pamper your broom!

This multifunctional box contains everything you need to take care of your broom: special broom handle polish, scissors to sharpen the tip, a copper compass for long journeys and a manual that summarises all the techniques to perfect brooms!

Whether it's for Quidditch, travelling or cleaning your house, this broom set will contain everything you need to make it shine like new!

If you're interested, please send us the ad cut out with the money in an envelope for our company owl ChronOwl to collect from you.

Price: 11 Galleons.

Hermione thought to herself that this was a great idea for a present for Harry's upcoming birthday. She carefully cut out the newspaper advertisement, being careful not to go over the scary picture of Sirius Black, and took out what little wizarding money she had left from her wallet and put it on the bedside table.

Her cousins were away for the summer, so Hermione was staying in the room of the older one, Daisy. Her father's sister was very kind, and had a talent for cooking, so Hermione could enjoy good French food every night.

On the second evening after their arrival in Dijon, Hermione was sitting in one of the chairs at the living room table. She and her aunt and mother were playing Scrabble, but they had changed the rules and were allowed to include words from both the French and English languages, so their board became unreadable very quickly.

Her father was watching TV on the sofa, half asleep. Hermione was just moving her letters to form the word "WICKED" when the TV suddenly made a strange noise that made them turn their heads.

"Good evening, everyone. We interrupt your normal programmes to bring you up to date with the latest news we've just received."

Hermione took a quick glance at the TV and froze as Sirius Black's face appeared on the screen.

"We've just received word that this prisoner has just escaped from prison. He is armed, highly unstable and dangerous. Do not approach him under any circumstances. If you see him, please report him as soon as possible to the hotline at the bottom of the screen."

Sirius Black's haunted face remained on the TV for a few more seconds before disappearing. The programme that her father had put on then reappeared. Hermione saw her mother looking at it, her eyebrows furrowed, and Hermione nodded softly to confirm her suspicions. He was a wizard, and if the Muggles had been informed of his escape, then he must be very dangerous indeed.

"Well, he doesn't look charming, that guy!" her aunt said, resuming the game. "Besides, we have no idea where he is, they didn't even say!

"He must have run away." her father explained, not knowing that Black was a wizard. "A colleague at the practice told me they were showing his face on English TVs too. They must have no idea where he is."

"Hmm. Strange." commented her aunt. "Hermione, it's your turn."

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The next morning, Hermione found three owls on her windowsill, which she hurriedly let in, fearing that someone would see them around. The first was a large black owl with a tag attached to its leg:

"ChronOwl - please deposit the exact amount in the envelope or the owl will not leave."

The owl waited patiently. Hermione gathered up the piece of newspaper and the Galleons, put them in an envelope and hung them on the owl's paw, which flew straight away after hooting in thanks.

The second owl was nothing like the first: it was Errol, the Weasleys' owl, and he was a mess. He could hardly stand on his feet. Hermione gave him a sip of water before reading Ron's letter:

Dear Hermione,

I don't know if you're really going to get this letter, given Errol's abilities, but I'm trying. Egypt is great. Did you see our picture in the Daily Prophet? Right afterwards we went to one of the biggest pyramids in Egypt, where we got to visit tombs with mummies inside. It was so cool, I think you would have loved the legends about the wizards there.

As I told you in my last letter, I called Harry on the phone number he gave me. I haven't heard from him since. I'm afraid I've really upset his uncle, he didn't sound happy on the other end of the phone. I hope he's not in too much trouble because of me. I'll try and send him a letter for his birthday. If Errol comes back, it means he's read it. I've got a birthday present for him as well, and I bought you something for yours too.

My mum said we're going to Diagon Alley in the last week of the holidays. I hope you can do your school supplies then too, I know it's quite late, but we won't be back until the end of August. I'm going to ask Harry to join us too.

How is your holiday in France going?

All the best,

Ron.

PS: Percy has been appointed Head Prefect, he's got his badge and has been talking about it for two days. Fred and George tried to wrap him up like a mummy, but they couldn't.

Hermione smiled at the PS and picked up the newspaper that the third owl had brought her. She looked for the article that mentioned the Weasleys, and finally found on the last page under the box "MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE". Just below it was a black and white photo of all the Weasleys waving.

Hermione took a long look at the photograph with a smile, and tucked it into her pocket to show it to her parents.

Draco

It was early August and the sun was blazing as Draco walked up the driveway to Blaise's house. He hadn't brought his broom, because he knew they wouldn't be able to play Quidditch in this heat. He opened the huge gate and entered the Manor, which was empty.

"Over here, Dray!" shouted Blaise from the back garden.

Draco went out into the terrace and found Blaise sitting on the garden table. He was enjoying a peach ice cream, which had the magical ability to never melt in the sun. Pansy was there too, trying as best she could to tan her pale legs in the sun.

"Ah, there you are!" said Pansy.

"I see you didn't wait for me." Draco replied with a smirk.

"There's some ice cream left in the kitchen. Cooky!"

The house elf arrived as Draco sat down at the table next to Blaise. He was dressed in an ugly, worn napkin that wrapped around his waist and was stained in places.

"Yes, Master Zabini?" the elf said, bowing to him.

"Go get Draco an ice cream. And we would like milkshakes." Blaise ordered.

"Right away, Master."

The elf went into the kitchen and almost immediately returned with a tray on which sat three tall glasses of strawberry ice milk.

"Ah, great, I'm thirsty!" shrieked Pansy as she took the first glass and sipped.

"Isn't Theo coming?" asked Draco as he saw the number of glasses on the tray.

"No, not today. His father got it into his head to teach him a defense course, so he's spending the day with a tutor."

"What for? He's not even allowed to practice magic, he's not seventeen."

"I know. It's theory classes, the tutor shows him the wand stroke, but he can't practice. It's completely stupid, but his father ordered him to do it and he's been stuck there since this morning. He managed to send me an owl to warn me." Blaise explained.

"Poor thing." commented Pansy.

She had pulled up her fringe with a sort of barrette to expose her forehead to the sun. Blaise, on the other hand, was in the shade, but had stretched out his long legs in front of his chair in the same way as Pansy to get some sun. He had grown more during the summer, he was the tallest boy in the third year without a doubt. With his height and sculpted face, you would have thought he had already finished school.

Draco had grown too. He wasn't nearly as tall as Blaise, but he'd gained a few inches and was probably bigger than Crabbe and Goyle now. Maybe even Theo if he stood on his toes.

The afternoon was peaceful and sunny. Pansy's father was away until the next day, as were Lucius and Narcissa, who were spending the evening at a Ball, so Pansy could stay the night, provided she was up early enough the next day to sneak home and pretend she'd been there all night. So they played Exploding Snap games, then had a huge snack that served as dinner.

When the sun went down, they went to the main living room of Blaise's Manor, which consisted of five sofas in a huge room, all of which faced a huge fireplace where Blaise could easily stand up in it.

Cooky brought them hot chocolates and they discussed Hogwarts, buried under many blankets. Draco could feel his eyelids closing as the sips of chocolate warmed his stomach.

"Are you looking forward to going back?" asked Draco.

Pansy nodded briskly:

"It's much better than living with my father. He drives me crazy, especially this summer. He's so picky about my appearance. Last time, he wouldn't let me have dinner because I'd worn black earrings."

"Why is he like that?"

"I don't know. He looks stressed, I mean, even more than before. Nervous, even. He keeps Appariting to go do whatever, and then, he comes back even more pissed off than before."

"My dad's the same way." Draco said in a sleepy voice. "I've hardly seen him all summer, when he's at the Manor he locks himself in his study and orders us not to disturb him. He's always furious. When I hear him downstairs, I prefer to stay in my room."

They turned to Blaise, who in turn replied:

"Here or there, they leave me alone. My mother isn't around much, and when she is, I don't even notice, because the Manor is so big that we never pass each other. But I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts, I like the atmosphere over there."

"What, with Potter who..." began Draco.

Suddenly there was a strange sound, and the ground began to shake. Draco dropped his cup of chocolate and it shattered on the floor. He exchanged terrified glances with Blaise and Pansy who had both risen from the sofas. They were staring at the fireplace, which was making this noise, as if something was falling and bouncing against the walls in deafening chaos.

Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the chimney, which was shaking with the vibrations. Pansy drew hers as well, but was hiding behind a cushion in panic, and Blaise moved closer and closer to the fireplace with wide eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, the noise slowed, and the ground stopped shaking. Draco wanted to speak, to ask Blaise what could have caused such a noise, when he was interrupted by a final piercing sound that forced him to cover his ears. Something fell down the chimney, covered in ashes, and it was some time before Draco could make out what form it was.

When he realised, his blood ran cold.

It was Theodore Nott. And he was on the floor, passed out, and covered in blood.