Hi everyone! Thank you for all your kind reviews, it makes me so happy to read you every time 3 I try to reply as much as I can, but if I don't, you should know that I read all your comments and I even screen some of them to give me motivation when I'm writing and I lose inspiration :) To make up for my absence last week, this chapter is longer than usual (41 pages on Docs!) and it's also one of my favourites, because I love Halloween! Happy reading, everyone!
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Draco
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On the last Thursday of October, as a storm rattled the Castle walls and roared overhead during dinner, Draco went to Snape's office as he did every week.
As soon as he was invited in, however, he noticed immediately that something had changed.
Normally, Snape's office was practically pitch black. Only the glow of a few candles on the mantelpiece or desk illuminated the room, giving it a gloomy look that Granger would probably have hated. That day, another source of light illuminated Snape's office. A dark blue light that was projected onto the ceiling, creating small ripples on the stone like the waves of an ocean.
Draco searched for the source and found it at the back of the room. It was a large grey stone pool with runes carved into the rim. There was water in it, but Draco had never seen it so bright, so shining. Snape was leaning over it, his eyes closed, and Draco noticed white threads coming out of his head and wrapping around his wand. It was a strange sight, one that Draco did not understand.
"Sit down." Snape ordered, and Draco did so without taking his eyes off him.
Snape pulled out two more filaments, showing nothing on his face to indicate that this was a painful exercise. He carefully placed them in the basin and the filaments melted in the strange, vaporous water until they disappeared into the depths.
"Do you know what this instrument is, Draco?" asked Snape in his deep voice.
Draco remembered seeing a basin like this in his father's hidden study at the Manor, but it was much smaller and he couldn't remember its name. He shook his head and his teacher explained, continuing to remove the milky fibres from his temple:
"This is a Pensieve. A very rare and useful tool. We extract thoughts from it, deposit them on the surface and then we can consult them."
"Consult them?" repeated Draco in amazement.
"Yes. All you have to do is tilt your head until you touch the thought and the person is immersed in the memory as if they were reliving it from the point of view of the person who witnessed it."
Snape dipped his wand into the water in the Pensieve and began to spin the threads of thought. As he did so, Draco noticed that the basin was not actually filled with water, but with a very strange substance that Draco had never seen before: a kind of solid air that projected this blue light onto Snape's thoughtful face.
Finally, the professor stepped back and the surface of the Pensieve turned white again. Snape walked around Draco's chair and sat down at his desk. He stared at the boy before him in petrified silence for a full minute, then said in a solemn voice:
"Draco, you have succeeded."
"Succeeded? Succeeded at what?" asked Draco, genuinely confused. He glanced at the Pensieve, afraid of what Snape might have seen in there to make him say that.
"You've managed to master the science of Occlumency perfectly." Snape explained.
Draco's eyes widened, not expecting such an announcement at all. He had thought that after what Snape had put him through since the beginning of the school year, he was still far from being as in control of his head as he would have liked.
"What? Already? But you still manage to get into my head when I don't expect it!"
"Not anymore." Snape said, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. "You manage to close your mind, or push me away, or suffer my intrusions without showing your face. All your memories are locked away in your secret room, and no one can access them. Not even me."
Snape had a strange expression on his face, and Draco could not tell if it was pride or resentment.
"What does that mean? We won't have any more lessons?" Draco asked.
"Well, you can still come and train here if you like." Snape said, pointing at the room around them. "Or you can come on Thursday evenings to meditate and clear your memories undisturbed. Or... I can teach you... something else."
He gestured to the Pensieve at the back of the room.
"Legilimency.'" Snape announced gravely.
Draco's eyebrows immediately raised. He still didn't know how Legilimency really worked, but he knew it was a much darker art than Occlumency.
"How?" asked Draco suspiciously.
Snape lifted his chin from his hands and looked at Draco calmly, as if they were talking about his Potions assessment from the previous week and not one of the darker branches of Dark Magic.
"Well, instead of me entering your mind, you will enter mine."
Draco frowned even more. When he spoke to Snape, he always felt like he was solving a complex puzzle, or that his teacher was deliberately withholding valuable information so that Draco would have to use every neuron in his brain to understand the meaning of his sentences. He'd always thought it was like a game of chess, only Snape always had a few extra pieces.
"You want me to perform Legilimency on you?" asked Draco incredulously.
"If you agree." the professor replied. "I've put all my private memories in the Pensieve, so you won't have to face them if you manage to get into my mind. I'll teach you how to do it, and we'll see if you're as predisposed to Legilimency as you are to Occlumency. Would you like to try?"
Draco was about to refuse. He thought it was a particularly cruel gesture to force his way into someone's mind to get information, and he'd never considered doing it.
But then he thought of Pansy, Theo and Blaise, who had been practising meditation ever since they'd found out the real reason for his meetings with Snape, and Granger, who he desperately wanted to teach Occlumency to help her keep her memories hidden. If he was going to teach them, he would have to learn Legilimency to train them.
So Draco made himself a promise. He promised himself that he would only use Legilimency for teaching purposes, or in an emergency.
He nodded in Snape's direction to show that he agreed. He made no comment and stood up, and Draco did the same, almost as hesitantly as the first time he'd gotten up to practise Occlumency. He stood in front of his teacher and drew his wand.
"Legilimency isn't as tiring as Occlumency, but you'll find it requires a greater dose of magic." Snape explained. "You must pronounce the spell "Legilimens" clearly, and you will see my mind open to you. I will not object, at least not at first. Once that is done, you must find a thought, and seize it so that you can read it."
Draco nodded, although he didn't understand much of this explanation, which was far too abstract.
"What's your wand made of?" asked Snape abruptly.
"Er... Hawthorn wood, Professor. With unicorn hair."
"A wood prone to fits of rage, very unstable." Snape commented. "Silver-lime wands, like mine, are known to work well in the hands of those with the gift of Legilimency. Hawthorn is stronger, which in your case would be much more suited to Occlumency."
Draco had never heard so much detail about a wand based solely on its wood.
"My mother's wand is made of Black Walnut." Draco said, and Snape nodded as if the information was obvious.
"Of course it is. A safe, reliable wood, in keeping with its master's beliefs. I'm not surprised your mother has one of these, it's an extremely auspicious wood with Occlumency."
Draco did not hide his astonishment at this analysis. It reminded him of Pansy's predictions based on the planets or the months of the year.
Snape saw his incomprehension and continued in a lower voice:
"You know, the art of the wand reveals many things about the personality of its users. It's a fascinating subject. I think you might enjoy it, if you haven't yet decided what to do after Hogwarts."
"It probably is... But I'm only interested in Potions and Alchemy, sir." Draco said in an apologetic tone.
A smile formed on Snape's lips.
"I can see why. You clearly have an aptitude for Potions that no other fifth year has."
Draco smiled proudly at the compliment.
"Thank you, sir."
"Very well, prepare." Snape said, regaining his seriousness in a second. "Hold out your arm and point your wand at me. Above all, do not lose eye contact for the duration of your intrusion."
Draco held out his arm, exhaled and looked at Snape, who didn't even blink when Draco called out in a loud voice:
"Legilimens!"
He immediately felt the magic flow through his fingers and wand, but nothing happened.
Draco shook his hand vigorously to get rid of the tingling sensation, then turned his attention back to his teacher, who was waiting patiently in front of him.
"Legilimens!"
Nothing came out of his wand. Draco sighed in frustration, but Snape reassured him:
"This is difficult magic, Draco, far beyond your level. I didn't expect you to get it right the first time. Try again."
And so Draco did, again and again, but to no avail. He could feel the magic burning his wrist, sometimes even making his wand twitch, but nothing ever came out. He growled angrily as he tightened and loosened his fingers, trying to make the quivering magic disappear.
After the twentieth attempt, Snape advised him in a stern whisper:
"You must look into my eyes, Draco. You must focus on my thoughts, your desire to know them."
"With all due respect, Professor, you are a very mysterious man." Draco muttered, slightly irritated. "It's quite impossible to imagine what you might be thinking."
Snape cracked a second smile, which was very rare.
"Then we'll start with a simple request." the Potions Master decided. "You will concentrate on finding out what... my favourite dish is."
Draco found this request odd, but he nodded anyway and focused again. This time he looked into Snape's eyes, something he had avoided until now because his dark eyes were so disturbing. He waved his wand, focused on the potential favourite dish of the man in front of him and said in a hoarse voice:
"Legilimens!"
This time, something happened. Draco felt the magic go off like a spark, burning his skin, but he didn't let go of their eye contact, feeling himself drawn into Snape's deep gaze. It was as if he was moving towards him without actually moving. He got closer, closer, and suddenly, he was literally diving into his pupils.
At first, everything was black. Draco couldn't see the walls of Snape's mind, just a boundless nothingness.
Then he saw a white flash in the distance. It swirled in the air, the only source of light in the darkness. Draco recognised it as a Thought Thread, just like the one Snape had torn out and placed in the Pensieve earlier.
Remembering what his teacher had told him, Draco leaned forward and tried to grab it, but he couldn't get close enough. He felt his arm weaken and blinked several times as he felt waves of pain running through his body...
The next thing he knew, he was back in Snape's office. His eyes were wet with tears of effort.
"That was very good." Snape said, no expression in his voice. "You managed to get inside my head. Now you just need to use a little more mental strength to get inside completely."
Draco wiped his eyes and lowered his aching arm to massage his forearm. Snape noticed the gesture and frowned:
"But that's all for today," he said firmly.
"What? No, Professor, we've only just begun!" Draco protested immediately.
"There's no point in exhausting yourself, you won't get anywhere. Legilimency requires an extremely high level of mental concentration and magic, so you have to do it gradually. We'll see you next Thursday for the next stage."
"But I don't even know what your favourite dish is!" grumbled Draco, a little childishly.
"You'll find out when you manage to get inside my head," Snape said firmly, as if to end the conversation.
And he sat back down at his desk, and Draco realised that the session was really over. He grumbled and put his wand back in his pocket. Just before he left, Snape added:
"And don't forget to keep working on your Occlumency. Just because you've mastered it doesn't mean you should abandon it in favour of Legilimency. It's imperative that you continue to work on your mind and meditate to make sure you're in control. You may go."
Draco greeted his teacher with a sullen voice, but he wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or frustration at his lack of success.
When he entered the Common Room, Draco was surprised to not be assaulted by loud music and the smell of strong alcohol in the air. The room was full of students, but they were all sitting here and there, and classical music was playing on the gramophone. Draco suspected that Pansy had stopped throwing too many parties, either at Theo's request or simply to please him.
He found them on their usual sofa. Blaise was doing his homework on the coffee table, Theo had his head against the back of the sofa and Pansy was leaning over him, whispering instructions in his ear. As Draco approached, he heard her murmur:
"Relax, don't think about anything, clear your head..."
Theo said nothing, but Draco could see the suspicious expression on his face, even with his eyes closed. Pansy was unperturbed and calmly continued to teach him meditation:
"Imagine yourself in a relaxing place where you feel good..."
"I thought I wasn't supposed to think about anything." Theo grumbled as he suddenly opened his eyes and Pansy sighed. "Why are you telling me to clear my head and then imagine myself in a relaxing place?"
"Clear your head of your problems!" explained Pansy, suddenly annoyed. Obviously, they'd been practising for a long time and hadn't quite got it right. "Not of all your thoughts!"
"When I think of a place to relax, it has to be a thought..."
Pansy rolled her eyes and closed her book with a "clap!"
"Oh, hi." she said as she spotted Draco, who she hadn't seen coming. "How was your session? You finished earlier than usual."
"Snape told me I was officially done." Draco announced as he took a seat in the chair next to the sofa.
"Finished what?" asked Blaise.
"Occlumency. Snape told me I've officially mastered it. Not only can I put my memories away, but I can now parry mental attacks." Draco said.
Theo lifted his head from the back of the sofa and stared at him with round eyes.
"Wow! Well done Draco!" exclaimed Pansy.
"Thank you. It was difficult, but I'm glad I succeeded." he admitted very sincerely.
In fact, it was one of the first times in his life that Draco was truly proud of something. He had always been proud, even arrogant, but practising Occlumency had taken an enormous amount of his mental energy, far more than anything else he had done before, and he felt an immense wave of satisfaction at the idea of having perfected something without the help of anyone but himself.
"You mean you're able to do that bullshit meditation?" said Theo in astonishment.
Pansy, having nothing to throw at him, chose to pat him on the head, flattening his hair, which he quickly combed back up while glaring at her.
"I've been meditating for months, you know. I learned last year." Draco pointed out as he took an apple from a bowl for dinner. He resumed his seat in the armchair as Theo looked on in awe.
"I didn't think it was so... advanced." the boy admitted. "Do you imagine a relaxing place when you meditate?"
"No, not really." Draco said. "I empty my mind, visualise it and put my memories away."
Theo made a puzzled face, so Draco added:
"I suppose it varies from person to person. I can think of nothing, but visualising a quiet place must work too."
"Well, I can't." Theo grumbled as he sat up completely on the sofa. "A month of Pansy trying to teach me and I can't seem to meditate at all."
"It's an activity to be done alone." Pansy pointed out. "The most important thing is to want to close your mind, not force yourself to do it just to be good at something."
"You, you can do it?" asked Draco to Pansy and Blaise.
Blaise nodded absently, still busy with his homework. Pansy, for her part, flashed a big, pretentious smile:
"I meditate very well. I do it every night, just like you asked."
Theo mimicked her rudely behind her, and Draco held back a laugh.
"By the way, what did you do with Snape tonight, now that you've finished Occlumency?" asked Blaise.
"He offered to teach me something else. Legilimency." said Draco.
Theo immediately stopped imitating Pansy and made an indignant face.
"Don't tell me you've accepted!" he shouted. "Occlumency I can understand, but Legilimency is simply barbaric!"
"I agreed, but only to allow me to teach you Occlumency when you're ready." Draco explained firmly. "I will never use it by force."
Theo wrinkled his nose but seemed satisfied with this answer.
"But how did you manage to train in Legilimency?" asked Pansy.
"Snape offered himself to train me." said Draco.
His three friends did not hide their surprise. Blaise looked up from his essay with a scandalised look on his face.
"Snape?! You got into his mind?"
"Sort of." Draco muttered, the stinging memory of his failure still painful. "But I didn't quite succeed, it's very difficult and he refused to let me continue, he told me I'd have to try again next week."
"What did you see?" asked Blaise curiously.
"It was very strange." Draco said, remembering the dark depths of Snape's mind. "Everything was black, then I caught a glimpse of a thread of thought that I tried to grasp, but I couldn't, it was too exhausting."
"What do you think it was?" asked Pansy with an eagerness she couldn't quite hide.
"He asked me to find out what his favourite dish was." Draco said, and both Blaise's and Pansy's shoulders slumped at the same time in disappointment at hearing such a banal answer.
"I bet it's goblin meat, or dragon blood soup." Theo said grimly, causing everyone to burst out laughing and relieving the tension that the seriousness of the conversation had brought.
They then exchanged theories about Snape's favourite food in between rounds of laughter. Theo, in particular, came up with some particularly funny names that made Pansy cry with laughter.
After a good half hour of theories, Pansy changed the subject radically:
"So, have you decided what you're going to wear this weekend?"
Draco, Blaise and Theo sighed in annoyance at this question.
For the first time since they'd been at Hogwarts, Halloween fell on a weekend, news that filled Pansy with joy. Not so much for the celebration itself, which she couldn't care less about, but for the opportunity to organise a huge costume party in the Slytherin Common Room.
She came up with the idea at the beginning of October and had been pestering the three boys ever since. She had planned and organised everything for what she called "the party of the decade". Draco had rarely seen so many Slytherins so excited at the prospect of a party, but it had to be said that Pansy was an excellent organiser and the evening promised to be, indeed, phenomenal.
"I've got it." said Blaise.
"Me too." said Draco, although his costume wasn't the most elaborate.
"Very good... And you, Theo?" asked Pansy, turning to the boy in question.
He rolled his eyes to show how pleased he was with the idea.
"What's the point of me dressing up anyway?" he asked. "I always stay thirty seconds in these kind of things."
"You won't stay thirty seconds this time, or I'll ignore you for the rest of the year." Pansy warned dryly, and Draco was sure she meant it.
"Are you sure I can't disguise myself as an introverted bookworm?" asked Theo pleadingly.
Pansy glared at him:
"For the last time, no. You better find a costume by Saturday, Theodore Nott, or I swear, I'll make your life miserable."
She pointed a threatening finger at him and Theo let out another long, painful sigh. Blaise stood up and pretended to put his parchment down to lean into Draco's ear and whisper:
"He's had his costume ready for months. I think he just likes messing with her."
Draco smiled, not at all surprised.
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Throughout Saturday, Pansy was nowhere to be found.
Blaise deduced that she was organising the party that very evening, Merlin knew where, and apparently accompanied by Daphne, who had also disappeared since breakfast. So Theo spent his morning endlessly repeating that if Pansy had the same motivation for studying for her O.W.L. as she did for organising parties, she would have overtaken him in the rankings long ago.
Draco spent most of the day watching Granger and Longbottom study together in the Library. Although he was a little jealous whenever Granger spoke to someone of the opposite sex, he had to admit that there was clearly nothing ambiguous between the two Gryffindors. Granger clearly considered Longbottom a friend, and so did Longbottom, although Draco couldn't understand how it was possible not to be interested in this girl.
They studied Potions (and Longbottom needed it), then moved on to Charms. Draco watched as the poor chubby boy practised a proper Engorgement Charm, failing miserably every time. The feather Granger gave him to use as a target changed colour, lost all its feathers and fell off the table a hundred times without growing an inch. As Longbottom, red-faced with shame, apologised, Draco could hear Granger repeating:
"Don't worry, it's not that bad, we'll try again, it's difficult..."
He knew Granger well enough to detect a certain impatience in her voice as she reassured him. Draco chuckled frequently at the sight, and was even more amused when Granger gave him a warning look when she heard him laughing.
Theo arrived in the early afternoon and took a seat across from Draco.
"Didn't see you at lunch." he said, more a remark than a reproach.
Draco shrugged:
"I wasn't hungry."
Theo didn't answer, but handed him an apple he'd apparently stolen from the Slytherin table. Draco took it, thanked him and checked that Madam Pince wasn't around to take a bite. Granger gave him a scandalised look before turning her attention back to Longbottom.
"What are you studying?" asked Theo, pulling three parchments out of his bag.
"I'm practising the Engorgement Charm." Draco said, even though he wasn't. He placed the apple in front of him and said, loud enough for Granger and Longbottom to hear from the next table:
"Engorgio!"
The apple tripled in size, keeping its round shape, and Draco took another bite. He winked discreetly at Granger, who rolled her eyes. She turned to Longbottom, whose ears were even redder than before:
"Don't mind him Neville, he's not worth it..."
Theo looked at the table next to them and sighed as he realised why Draco had just done that. He pointed his wand at the apple and muttered:
"Reducto. You're a pain when you want to be, you know that? Can't you just let them study in peace, do you really have to piss them off?"
"Relax, it was just a joke!" argued Draco. "Why are you in such a bad mood?"
"I'm not in a bad mood." Theo argued firmly, proving the opposite.
"Come on, tell me. Is it Pansy's party that's bothering you?" tried Draco.
Theo frowned, clearly not having even considered the possibility.
"No, it's not that. What would Pansy be without a "sensational party" once a month?"
"Nothing, I suppose." Draco replied. "Then what's your problem?"
"I'm just overwhelmed, that's all." Theo said, unscrewing his inkwell and setting it down beside him.
Draco knew at once what his best friend was talking about: the three scrolls he had put down were his, Goyle's and Crabbe's. Draco already had trouble finishing his own homework on time, so he couldn't imagine having to work on the same essay three times. He was tired just thinking about it.
"Why don't you let those two idiots do it themselves?" asked Draco, and if he'd earned a Galleon every time he'd asked that question, he'd be richer than his father.
"I've been refusing to do a lot of their homework lately." Theo explained, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "So that the clash between their current grades and their O.W.L. grades wouldn't be too noticeable, but they asked me to do this one, and I said yes..."
He rubbed his eyelids with the back of his hand.
"What grade do you expect them to get for this?" asked Draco.
Theo looked at the two scrolls with a grimace:
"I don't know... Dreadful?"
"What subject is it?"
"Herbology."
"I finished mine yesterday." Draco said. He'd put it off until the last moment to do it with Granger, but she hadn't shown up at the Library all week, so he'd been forced to finish it on his own. "Hand me one so I can help you."
"Are you sure? Don't you want to practice growing your apple a bit more, just to piss Longbottom off?" asked Theo sarcastically.
"No, he's learnt his lesson." Draco replied with a big smile. "Come on, give it to me."
"Which one do you want? Crabbe's or Goyle's?" asked Theo.
"The one that's less stupid."
"They're both stupid." pointed out Theo.
"Fair enough. Then give me Goyle's."
Theo handed him the parchment and Draco reread it in its entirety, adding a dubious description of the Bubotubers and deliberately confusing the Puffapod with the Abyssinian Shrivelfig. While he worked, Granger continued to study with Longbottom, but now they had put their things away and were reading a notebook that Draco couldn't see from where he was.
After a few minutes, Longbottom and Granger came out of the Library, and Draco finished Goyle's essay with a little less enthusiasm than before, as he had no one to watch from the side except Theo, who was tearing his hair out in front of him from stress.
"I'm done." Draco declared after an hour. "He shouldn't get any better than Acceptable, hopefully. Here, you can use this as inspiration for Crabbe's if you want."
"Thanks Draco, you're a lifesaver." Theo said, not hiding his relief. "I hope to finish this before the end of the day."
"I'll see you at dinner, I've got Quidditch practice in twenty minutes."
Theo waved his ink-stained hand at him and plunged back into his work as soon as Draco left the Library.
By the time Draco returned to the dormitory to get his broom, walked across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch and changed into his training robes, Montague had already blown the whistle to start practice.
All the Slytherin players gathered in front of their captain.
"Well, today's weather is nice for a change, so let's use it to practise your blind spots." the captain announced, consulting his tactical papers. "Warrington, you really need to work on your Quaffle reception, you're missing it too often and it's costing us the lead. Goyle, Crabbe, try not to hit your skulls with your own bats this time..."
Draco chuckled as he saw the two boys wrinkle their noses stupidly.
"Malfoy..." Montague continued, reading from his notes. "You caught the Golden Snitch in thirty-two minutes last time, that's really not bad, try to beat your record today."
Montague finally opened the box and the balls flew out onto the Quidditch pitch. Like every time he rode his broom, Draco felt the adrenaline rush through his limbs that he loved.
"Ready, set... Go!" shouted Montague, whistling at the same time.
Draco hit the ground with his foot and took off at breakneck speed. While the Chasers began their usual training with the Quaffle, and Crabbe and Goyle stood on opposite sides of the pitch, trying not to fall over backwards, Draco rose to the top of the pitch, above the Keeper's circles.
Draco had rarely seen them play, and he didn't know whether to laugh at how ridiculous they were or cry at their performance, which did not bode well for the Slytherins' match against the Gryffindors the following weekend.
He focused on his goal and searched for the Golden Snitch, making wide circles in the air. He could hear the shouts of the players below him, the sound of the Quaffle going through the hoops, and the whistle of a Bludger as it flew past him, but he was careful not to watch the game so that he could concentrate on his search for the Golden Snitch.
As he searched for the coveted little golden ball, Draco's eyes were suddenly drawn to two figures walking through the valley. He squinted to see, despite the wind whipping his face, and recognised Granger's hair in the distance. She was still in Longbottom's company and seemed to be crouching by a flower bed.
Draco wondered if they were extending their Herbology test, and was so mesmerised by the vision of Granger picking flowers that he missed the Golden Snitch twice, even though it passed right under his nose.
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.
"Ouch."
"Stop it, I'm not even hurting you."
"You poked me in the eye with your wand."
"Nonsense. You're such a baby sometimes..."
Draco nudged Pansy when he heard this comment and she sent a spray of black make-up across the blanket of the bed he was sitting on. She put on a blasé expression.
"If you push me, you'll look like shit." she said dryly, cleaning the stain with a Scourgify. "Stop moving and let me do it."
Draco rolled his eyes, but Pansy clicked her tongue in displeasure, probably because he'd smeared his make-up again. So he stayed still, complaining occasionally for good measure, and Pansy finished her work with a flick of her wand, which she used like a paintbrush.
"Ta-da! All done!" she announced after a few minutes.
She handed him her pocket mirror, the golden one she always carried with her, and Draco carefully analysed the make-up.
His face was painted all white, in a shade close enough to his natural colour to not clash too much with the rest of his body. Pansy had added grey lines to accentuate certain angles of his face, like his jaw and nose, making them stand out even more than usual and giving him the sinister look he'd asked for. His grey eyes were surrounded by two black circles, and his mouth was painted to look as if it had been hollowed out by long black lines all the way to his ears.
The make-up was perfect, just as he had imagined. He couldn't find anything wrong with it.
"A real skeleton!" exclaimed Pansy, proudly admiring her work.
"Thank you, Pans', it's very well done." Draco admitted, gazing at his reflection in amazement.
It had to be said that Pansy was good at this sort of thing, she had even managed to give his hair a wet texture to style it back with several potions that Draco didn't know about, all of which had disgusting powdery smells.
Pansy, on the other hand, had a completely different make-up: she had a rosy complexion, and she had painted her eyes a lovely green to match her forest green dress, with a gold line on her eyelid. She wore long fairy wings that hugged the curve of her back and reached up to the back of her head, waving magically as she moved. She had also braided her hair to reveal two long pointed ears.
She was a beautiful fairy, Draco had to admit, and as he complimented her, he tried not to think about the other green fairy in the photo that served as his bookmark.
"Right, I've got to go and help Daphne into her outfit." Pansy squealed in an over-excited voice. "Hurry up and get ready, the party's going to start any minute!"
She spoke to the dormitory, even though Draco was alone: Blaise was in the bathroom and Theo was still in the Library. Draco put on the all-black outfit he'd prepared, checked that his make-up wasn't smudged and his hair was pulled back, then knocked on the bathroom door where Blaise had been locked for over an hour:
"Have you fallen asleep or something? Pansy will kill you if you don't come to her party!"
He heard the lock click and Blaise emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed in some sort of voluptuous frock, the same colour as Pansy's. Draco realised that they had matched their costumes: Pansy was a fairy, and Blaise was an elf. Draco recognised the same make-up that Pansy had used on his best friend's eyes, with the golden glitter on his eyelids, and the pointed ears he had put on his own, which were the same colour as his skin.
"So? How do I look?" asked Blaise, looking down at his own outfit. "I spent twenty minutes trying to get that bloody gold line on my eyes, but I had to start over ten times..."
"No, it's fine, looks good." Draco said.
Seeing one of his friends dressed as an elf, with the same wings as Pansy to complete the look, could have easily made Draco burst out laughing if Blaise didn't have such... poise. He had so much natural charm that he could wear anything without looking the least bit ridiculous.
"Where's Theo?" asked Blaise, trying to cast a spell on his wings to stop them wobbling.
"At the feast, I suppose. You know, the one we didn't even get a chance to taste before Pansy dragged us out of our seats to get our make-up done..."
"Come on, cheer up." Blaise said comfortingly. "You know how important this sort of thing is to her... Fucking wings!" he shouted as the wings hit his head with his sudden movements.
Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Blaise's costume:
"Immobulus."
"Thanks. Shall we go?"
Draco followed him into the Common Room. Pansy had covered their eyes when they went into the dormitories, so they were surprised to discover the extent of the decorations. Draco was immediately impressed. It was just as beautiful as the Great Hall: a dozen pumpkins hung from the ceiling, but they projected a green light that illuminated the floor, the walls and the people in the room. The fire in the fireplace blazed, green like the lights, warming the icy Slytherin atmosphere. Ghostly music was playing on the phonograph, adding to the eerie atmosphere, and all the students were dressed up.
By the time Draco reached the sofa that was always reserved for them, he had seen a mummy, a pirate, a baron, a boy with his head cut off and even a Hufflepuff dressed as a dragon with a moving tail.
Blaise poured Draco a large glass of apple liqueur, which he sipped as he looked at the costumes. Pansy had outdone herself and apparently threatened everyone to wear a costume, becauses none of the students were dressed in anything other than bright colours or fake blood dripping everywhere.
Pansy arrived about twenty minutes later, her complexion glowing with make-up and happiness.
"So, do you like it?" she asked, looking proudly at her work.
"It's magnificent. Well done, Pansy, it's probably your best party yet." Blaise said, giving her a kiss on the cheek to congratulate her.
Pansy shrugged, but you could see the pleasure on her face at such a compliment.
"I'm waiting for everyone to arrive so I can change the music and make it a bit more danceable." she explained. "I bumped into Theo, he's changing. Have you seen Crabbe and Goyle?" she asked with a mocking chuckle.
"No?"
She pointed to the end of the room where Crabbe and Goyle were dressed as...
It was hard to tell if they had wanted to look like goblins or house elves. They had probably mixed up the characteristics of the two creatures, because Crabbe had a long nose and big ears, but Goyle was dressed in a dirty rag, which made the result very comical. Blaise and Draco hadn't finished laughing when Theo finally arrived.
He was unrecognisable in his costume. He was dressed in a large black cloak, under which he wore a sort of red velvet vest with a white collar. He had lightened his complexion, adding blood-drenched veins to his cheekbones, and dyed his hair to darken it and press it against his skull. When he opened his mouth, Draco saw sharp, blood-stained false teeth.
"Vampire?" guessed Blaise.
"Not jusf any vampife!" announced Theo in a masterful voice, despite the fact that the false teeth were making him sputter. "Dfacula!"
"Who?" asked Draco, leaning forward to hear better.
"Dfacula!" repeated Theo, raising his arms to open his cloak in a dignified flourish.
"Who's that?" questioned Blaise, as confused as Draco.
Theo's eyes widened, as if that simple question was an outrage that merited a life sentence in Azkaban.
"Dfacula!" he repeated stubbornly. "Fe famous Muggle vampife, of coufse!"
"Never heard of him." said Blaise, and Theo dropped his arms limply along his body in vexation.
"Dfacula!" repeated Theo, as if hearing the name a third time would help them better understand who he was disguised as. "Ze first vampife to have existed, Count Dfacula, by the author Bfam Stokef, doz zat really mean anyfing to you?"
"You came dressed as a Muggle vampire for Pansy's party?" asked Draco. "Are you mad?"
"Why?" asked Theo, who suddenly had a worried gleam in his eye at the thought of Pansy yelling at him.
"Well, let's just hope she doesn't know "Dfacula" either." Draco said with a shrug.
Blaise muttered a "no chance" that Theo didn't hear.
"What would you like to drink, Theo?" asked Blaise. "And for the love of Merlin, don't answer a Butterbeer."
"I can't dfink anyfing with zese teez." said Theo, running his tongue over his false canines.
"You need to drink something, you'll look ridiculous with nothing in your hands." Draco pointed out.
"Zen pass me your glass, Blaise."
Blaise obeyed and handed him his glass of Firewhisky, which Theo spat out after the first sip. Draco, for his part, drank his glass of liqueur, feeling the effects of the alcohol pulsing pleasantly against the skin of his neck. He poured himself another, but instead of drinking it all at once, he enjoyed the sweet taste of the apple on his tongue. Pansy had changed the music and was now dancing in the middle of the room, surrounded by several merry girls. She was incredibly beautiful, her wings moving in time to the music and her dress resembling dark oak leaves.
Draco tried to get into the spirit of the evening, to join in, to enjoy, as he had done so many times before. He tried to savour the effects of the alcohol that was making his head foggy, he tried to feel the music seeping into him. But he couldn't quite get into it. Even Theo, who hated events like this, was having a better time than he was.
When a girl approached him and asked him to dance, Draco forced himself to accept. He wanted Blaise to see him off with a girl so he wouldn't suspect his true feelings for another girl, eight floors above them. It was only when he reached the dance floor that he realised the girl was dressed as the devil, in a tight red dress that reached to her thighs. They began to dance, and she automatically pressed herself against him to dance against each other. Draco realised he didn't even know her name.
He moved to the rhythm of the mystical music coming from the phonograph, trying in vain to enjoy the touch of her skin against his hands, or the sweet smell of her hair. But he couldn't think of anything but the strawberry in someone else's. He imagined himself cupping Granger's hips instead of the girl's, wondering if they would be fuller in his hands. He thought of the colour of Granger's flushed cheeks if he had asked her to a dance so daring.
The music stopped and the girl looked at him expectantly. He was sure she was waiting for a kiss. He stepped back as she approached, hiding his gesture with a false escape:
"I'm going to get another drink, do you want one?"
The girl agreed and Draco poured her a green cup of the first drink he saw before discreetly walking away at the risk of her asking him to dance again. When he returned to the sofa, Pansy was sitting between Theo and Blaise, obviously tipsy enough not to notice the Muggle vampire costume next to her.
"Draco!" she called in a drawl when she saw him coming. "Come and sit down, we're about to start a game of Truth or Shot!"
She seemed pleased with the idea, unlike Theo and Blaise, one of whom wore a frightened expression, the other bored.
Terence Higgs, a seventh year whom Draco had known from his time on the Slytherin Quidditch team, approached the sofa and placed a large bottle on the coffee table.
"If you want, I'll play, but only with that to make the shots."
"What's that?" asked Blaise, suddenly interested.
"Dragon's Spit, distilled in the only burnery in the world, in Romania. My father works there, he sent me a bottle and I decided to open it to celebrate my last year at Hogwarts." Higgs explained in a voice tinged with disdain.
Theo looked at the bottle with disgust on his painted face.
"I'm not drinking that." he muttered to Blaise as soon as Higgs opened the bottle.
"Then you'll have to tell the truth." Pansy replied with a chuckle.
The bottle of Dragon's Spit seemed to arouse curiosity, as about ten students joined the small group to play. The game began and everyone told the truth for fear of having to take a sip of the drink with the frightening name. But when a sixth year girl asked Draco who he would like to kiss in this Castle, he answered a little too quickly:
"Nobody."
"Liar. We all want to kiss someone here." Tracey Davis replied.
"Very well then, Pansy." Draco replied, feigning disinterest.
"I thought you two had broken up?" asked Millicent Bulstrode, standing right next to Tracey, in a honeyed voice.
Draco sighed and Higgs pushed the bottle over to him:
"Answer, or you've got a shot."
Draco searched for a girl's name, anyone who would do better than Granger, but realised to his horror that he didn't know any others. If he said Daphne, he'd probably get a punch in the face from Blaise, and if he said the name of a girl at the table, he'd be in serious trouble. He thought of Astra, but she wasn't technically in the Castle any more, and he couldn't remember the names of girls in other Houses.
"All right." he grunted, defeated. "I'll take a shot of this stuff."
He tilted the bottle to fill his cup with a small amount of liquid. As soon as it made contact with the plastic, there was a sound of corrosion and orange smoke escaped from the glass. Draco arched an eyebrow and looked at Terence, who had a big sadistic grin on his face:
"If it burns too much, we'll take you to the hospital wing." he promised.
Draco wasn't afraid, he knew the drink wasn't dangerous, so he took the glass and raised it to his mouth. Theo, on the other hand, was absolutely terrified. Terence's warning seemed to have had an effect on him, because he raised his arm to stop him drinking and shouted a horrified "no!", but it was too late.
Draco felt the warm liquid pour into his mouth and then down his throat. It tasted like fizzy orange juice. He raised an eyebrow at Higgs and several students groaned in disappointment.
It was then that Draco felt it.
Something, in the back of his throat, that ran up his esophagus like a powerful jet of water, but burned so hot that Draco opened his mouth to cough or vomit. But the drink he expelled wasn't liquid: it was an immense orange flame that burst from his mouth, like a dragon's breath of fire. Everyone around him jumped back in shock, including Theo, who screamed in horror. He jumped so hard that he tumbled over the edge of the sofa.
Draco felt the flame fade after a few seconds before disappearing completely, leaving the sharp taste of fire on his tongue. He choked for breath and only managed to calm down after swallowing the large glass of water Blaise handed him.
When he finally managed to open his eyes, all the Slytherin students looked at him worriedly, and when they saw that he was all right, the hall erupted in various sounds, either of fear, laughter or students wanting to try. Pansy was the only one who rushed over to Draco to see if he was all right.
"It's okay, it's okay, it's over." Draco said to reassure her, his hand resting on his burning chest. "Why don't you check on Theo, I think he's fainted."
While Pansy and Blaise looked for Theo, who had in fact taken refuge under the sofa, Draco filled his glass with water and downed it in one gulp.
"Not bad, eh?" Terence said proudly. "I warned you it was good stuff!"
"Yeah... Yeah, it was... Pretty crazy." Draco replied, though his eyes were still burning.
He looked down at the coffee table where the students were gathered to test the forbidden drink and noticed a huge burn mark on the wood. He proudly showed it to Pansy when she managed to get Theo, who was looking very pale, back on the sofa.
Just then, Daphne emerged from the crowd of dancers for a drink. She was easily recognisable in her foot-length black dress, a costume nowhere near as sensational as Pansy's. Her hair hung around her head in a botched attempt at styling, and her black make-up dripped under her eyes, though it was impossible to tell if it was intentional, or if she had been crying. Draco couldn't tell what she was dressed as.
She poured herself a glass of whisky and glanced around, and had the misfortune of spotting Blaise, who had just helped Theo drink some pumpkin juice to come out of his trance. Their eyes met, and Daphne's darkened before she ran back into the crowd to blend in. Blaise watched her go with a look of deep sadness on his elf face.
By the time Draco had finished his third glass of water, the burning sensation in his throat and on his tongue had not diminished. He spent a long time reassuring Theo that he was fine and that it wasn't dangerous, but the burst of flame seemed to have shocked him so much that he didn't even blink.
"I'm going to freshen up in the dormitory, I'll be right back." Draco announced to Pansy and Theo after about ten minutes.
They nodded and Draco had to make his way through the drunken students in the Common Room, or the kissing couples who wouldn't move to let him pass. When he reached the stairs to the dormitories, he enjoyed the cool air caressing his face and soothing the sting of the flame that still burned in his mouth.
He entered his dormitory, and was surprised to find Blaise there. He had thought he had slipped away to get a refill, not to hide in the dorms. He had taken off his elf ears, and was staring out of the window at the Black Lake, a thoughtful expression on his green-hued face.
"Blaise? What the hell are you doing here?" asked Draco as he entered the room.
"Nothing special." he replied without turning around, his voice strangely distant. "I just... wanted to get away for a bit."
Draco frowned. Like waking up late, this attitude was far from the one he knew: Blaise was always sociable at parties, always drinking and staying out as late as possible. He always danced with lots of girls and even kissed one or two in the hidden corners of the Common Room. This Blaise, the dreamy one staring out of the window instead of enjoying the party on the other side of the wall, was almost unrecognisable.
"What's the matter with you?" asked Draco, his voice a little too boisterous.
"Nothing." Blaise assured, his eyes still fixed on the depths of the Black Lake. "You can go back, I'll be right there."
"Really, Blaise. Something's wrong, I can tell." Draco insisted, his embarrassment at talking about feelings outweighing his curiosity.
The boy barely turned his head to look at Draco. His eyes were glassy, almost extinguished.
"I'm fine, Dray." he said with a pale smile.
Draco sighed and decided to leave him alone, as he obviously didn't want to confess tonight. He turned around, grabbed the handle and was about to open the door again when Blaise's voice rang out from behind him:
"Remember last year, when you told me about the girl you liked but couldn't have?"
Draco's hand froze on the handle as he heard the memory, and a book in his mental library opened without him consulting it: a Sunday in fourth year, when Draco had confessed to Blaise about spending time with an unattainable girl. It had been during the weird period when he and Pansy were half-dating, but Draco was already experiencing feelings for Granger, and the memory seemed so far away that he wondered how Blaise could remember it.
"Er... Yeah?" said Draco, his throat suddenly tightening.
Was he going to tell him? Tell him that he'd understood everything, that he'd put it all together? That he had been seen spending time with Granger when it was forbidden? Was he going to shout at him, never speak to him again?
"I think I feel the same way." Blaise admitted, his voice breaking at the last word.
Draco turned back to his best friend, not hiding his surprise. Blaise was sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes lost on the dormitory floor and his head in his hands. Ashamed?
"What do you mean?" asked Draco, not understanding which girl he could be talking about.
"I think I feel things, for this girl, but... It's not possible, I shouldn't."
Draco shyly approached Blaise's bed and stood facing him, keeping some distance so as not to make him uncomfortable. Blaise held his head against his arms and refused to look at him, probably fearing that Draco would laugh at him. But that would never have occurred to him. It was painful to see Blaise suffer.
"And... do you remember what you told me, when I told you about the girl I liked?" Draco dared to whisper.
Blaise didn't move, but Draco continued anyway:
"You told me that I was only in my fourth year at Hogwarts and that I wasn't getting married tomorrow. That I had the right to enjoy myself before the responsibilities came back and my parents' values prevented me from going through with it, and that I shouldn't beat myself up about it."
"That was terrible advice." Blaise muttered, barely audible.
"Well, I took it, and it worked out pretty well." Draco replied firmly. "You said yourself that we'd grown up too fast and that we shouldn't listen to our parents without seeing things for ourselves. If you like this girl, why should she be a problem? Besides, your mother loves you and supports you much more than our parents do. She would never go against you."
Blaise finally lifted his head from his crossed arms and brushed Draco with his caramel gaze, a little less extinguished than at the start of the conversation.
"I fucked up, Dray." he admitted, his voice cracking a bit.
Draco finally understood and sighed unintentionally when he realised who Blaise was talking about.
"It's Daphne, isn't it?"
Blaise's mouth twisted into a grimace, as if the mere mention of her first name was painful. He was silent for a long time, weighing up the idea of telling him.
Then Blaise nodded slowly:
"Yeah." he breathed softly. "That's right, it's Daphne."
"Don't worry mate, you'll be fine." Draco said, patting his shoulder in a friendly way to comfort him. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."
Blaise shrugged. His face was a little less marked by the sadness that seemed to inhabit his features all the time lately.
"Thanks, Dray. I needed that." he said with a small, embarrassed smile.
Draco let go of his shoulder and Blaise continued to stare at the floor. Draco felt he needed to be alone, so he walked the few steps to the door to give him some space.
Just before he left the room, however, Draco looked back at Blaise one last time, the reflections of the Black Lake rippling across his face.
"And, er, about that girl I told you about last year..." Draco said in a hesitant whisper. "It's... It's over. I don't see her anymore."
It was a lie, but Blaise nodded, his back to him:
"Yeah. I figured."
Draco opened the door and rushed back into the party crowd.
The music had turned up while he'd been gone, now there were plenty of students dancing in the centre, spraying themselves with their drinks as they danced without realising it, too drunk or concentrated to notice.
Draco thought he'd find Pansy in the middle of the crowd, but he found her on the sofa she hadn't left. She was sitting astride the lap of a Slytherin whom Draco didn't recognize, kissing him passionately. Her cigarette continued to burn between her fingers, but she didn't stop the kiss to smoke it, unaware of the ashes burning the leather of the sofa. Draco grimaced at the sight of their entwined tongues.
He continued on his way and found Theo beside the sweets. Pansy had set out about twenty bowls full of Honeydukes sweets, and Theo was devouring the chocolate fudges when Draco came up behind him. Even though he was surrounded by people wearing costumes, Theo was the only one who stood out: his collar was stained with chocolate, and the fake blood he'd made drip from his teeth had dried on his chin.
"Hey." he said, startling Theo, who dropped two fudges in surprise.
"Oh. Hey." he said, recognising Draco. The instant he saw it was him, he popped a fudge back into his mouth. "I left off ze sofa when Pansy sfafted snoffing some guy."
"She's still at it." said Draco, taking a fudge in turn.
Theo wrinkled his nose in disgust and took more chocolate, despite the fact that half of his previous fudge had melted onto his fingers.
"I'm going to go and get some fresh air." Draco announced, making the decision at that very moment.
"What?" snapped Theo indignantly, his mouth half open. "You're going to leafe me here on my own, with Pansy fisiting some bloke's mouf, Blaise nowhere to be found and Dafne looking like Death in person?"
"You can always come with me, if you like." offered Draco, but he was sure that he would refuse.
And indeed, as soon as he heard this sentence, Theo had an outraged outcry:
"In zis cold?! Do you want my deaf?"
"You can just sit there with your fudges. And if you take out a book, Pansy probably won't notice, given the mess she's in..."
Theo's features relaxed slightly, shifting from indignation to uncertainty.
"Do you fink fo?" he asked, and Draco guessed that the idea had crossed his mind, but that he hadn't dared to act on it.
"Yes, she's far too busy to notice." Draco assured him.
Theo immediately pulled out a tattered novel from the large pocket of his vampire cloak:
"Fanks Draco!" he shouted, and lost himself in his reading, absent-mindedly chewing his twelfth fudge, oblivious to the dancers jostling him around.
Draco took advantage of a Ravenclaw girl entering the Common Room to slip through the opening and out into the dungeon corridor.
He was not surprised to see a figure sitting on their park bench. He didn't really know how to explain it, but he was sure Granger would be there.
He walked towards her along the usual path, but stopped a few feet short of the bench.
She was wearing a costume too.
Draco was astonished at this information, he had never imagined that the Gryffindors could organise a Halloween party.
But his surprise was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he realised what Granger was wearing.
She was wearing a long white silk dress that fell to her ankles, and white wings on her back that were slightly flattened against the back of the bench. Her hair fell to her shoulders, but not as usual: it had been waved, much more naturally than it had been at the Ball, leaving her curls natural but not too voluminous. Even from a distance, Draco could see that she was wearing make-up, but the change was barely noticeable: her cheeks were simply pinker than usual, and her eyelids shone with a silvery sheen that matched the colour of her dress.
Granger was dressed as an angel.
The sight literally took Draco's breath away.
Draco just stood there, looking at her. She didn't know he was there, just a few steps away, because her angelic face was turned towards the stars. Her dress was nothing revealing, a far cry from the short dresses Draco had just seen in his Common Room, but it still gave him hot flushes just by looking at her. Everything about her radiated sweetness, purity and innocence.
She had never looked so beautiful.
It was like an omen, sent by Merlin himself to remind Draco that he didn't deserve her. She was an angel sent from heaven to inspire others, and he was the black spot that couldn't get near her. She illuminated everyone with her presence, her light, but he remained hidden in the shadows.
Black and white.
Light and darkness.
He cleared his throat and she turned her head towards him and gave him a big smile, the one that made her eyes sparkle and light up her features as if he was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.
"Good evening, Draco." she said in a light, almost laughing tone.
Draco realised he hadn't breathed since he'd reached the end of the path and took a long breath, physically unable to look away from the girl in front of him.
"Good evening, Granger." he managed to say.
He sat down next to her and he didn't know if it was his imagination but he felt as if he could feel the warmth emanating from her body, enveloping him pleasantly in the cool of the evening.
"Nice costume." Draco said casually, because he didn't know how to say out loud all the emotions that were running through him at the sight of her.
Granger looked down at her dress and pointed to a halo headband she'd placed on her lap with an annoyed little sigh:
"Ginny." she said by way of explanation. "She was so insistent on making my costume that I couldn't resist, but I regretted it the moment I saw the whole outfit lying on my bed earlier."
Draco swallowed and tried to look away, but he couldn't concentrate on anything but her.
"You shouldn't have. You're beautiful." he said earnestly.
Granger's cheeks pinked even more under the make-up.
"Oh. Thank you." she replied, suddenly a little shy. "Ginny did it all. The hair, the skin and all that... I insisted it be natural, but I'm not sure it is..."
Draco looked at Weaslette's work and although he hated all the Weasleys, he had to bow. He hadn't thought Granger could be any more radiant than she already was, but he had been wrong. She was so pretty it almost intimidated him, as if she wasn't the same girl he talked to every day in the Library, as if he'd just met her.
"When did you die?" she asked suddenly, a smile still on her full lips.
Draco frowned.
"What?"
She gestured at his face and his outfit with a wave of her hand:
"Your costume."
Draco had completely forgotten that he was dressed as a skeleton and automatically placed a hand on his white-painted cheek. How ironic, he thought. An angel and a damned, sitting on the same bench.
"Oh. Pansy." he said, in the same way she'd explained her outfit. "She demanded that everyone be in costume, so..."
"That's very good." Granger commented, her cheeks still red. "I never thought I'd be able to compliment Parkinson on anything, but I have to admit she's good at make-up. Especially the eyes, it's... Amazing how the grey in your pupils stands out."
She brought a hand up to his face without noticing, and stopped abruptly when she realised what she was doing.
Just before she withdrew her hand, Draco mechanically grabbed her wrist and the contact with her skin sent a jolt of electricity through his arm. Granger's eyes widened slightly and they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, Granger's mouth slightly agape, her cheeks burning.
Then, without Draco removing his hand from her wrist, Granger gently moved her hand to his face. He could feel her fingers brush the outline of his eyes, slowly, the contact barely perceptible. He didn't blink, wanting to make the most of this vision he wanted to etch into his memory. Granger, a few inches from him, dressed as an angel, touching him.
"Your eyes are changing colour." she said in a whisper, carried away by the wind.
She was still touching his skin, and the gesture was both pleasant and agonising.
All Draco could think about was kissing her. All he had to do was tilt his head just a little and he could finally seal his lips with hers. The tension was palpable in the air, like particles burning his skin. Granger's pink lips were barely parted and Draco longed to kiss her, to feel her even closer than she was.
With his heart on the edge of his lips, he slowly moved closer, so close that he could feel the warmth of her cheeks against his, and Granger looked up at him with her big chocolate eyes, and Draco could have sworn that no one had ever looked at him like that before.
But he couldn't.
He couldn't kiss her.
No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he had the right, that he was safe, his reason came back like a headache that pounded on his temple and prevented him from leaning forward enough. How he could be rational with Granger standing so close to him, desire spilling over her face, he had no idea. But he knew that if he dared to kiss her, everything would change. And the prospect of losing her was too painful to contemplate.
So he stepped back slightly and thought he saw a flash of disappointment cross Granger's face. Draco swallowed and refocused on the sentence she had just spoken:
"What do you mean?"
Granger took several seconds to compose herself, searching for her words, something he'd rarely seen from her.
"Um... your eyes." she said finally. "They were grey at first, and now they've changed, they're... blue. Ocean blue."
"It's just a reflection of the light." he said, but Granger immediately shook her head:
"No, no, they change colour. Quite often, in fact. I've noticed. Like they adapt to your mood."
Draco frowned in amusement.
"My mood? And what's my mood now, Granger?"
"I don't know yet." she said seriously. "When you're agitated, troubled, upset, they tend to be grey. Sometimes they look like storm clouds, sometimes like a cold metallic grey that almost scares me a little. But when you're relaxed or happy, they're blue. Dark blue, sometimes so dark it looks like the sky at night. And often, when you're oscillating between the two moods, they're icy blue, tending towards grey, as if you don't know what you're feeling and your eyes don't know which colour to take".
Draco listened intently to her analysis, shocked that she could see so much detail in his eyes. He loved it when Granger made comments like that, because it showed that she was almost as attentive to him as he was to her. The thought that she might have noticed that filled him with joy.
"How many Butterbeers have you had tonight, Granger?" he asked with a teasing chuckle, and she used the hand he hadn't taken to slap his forearm.
"Just one!" she defended herself with an ashamed squeak. "I'll stop talking about your eyes then. They're blue, plain and simple."
"No, you said they were ocean blue." he pointed out, only to see her cheeks blush even more. "Merlin, Granger, I never thought you could turn out like Trelawney..."
"I'm not becoming like Trelawney, I think there's a rational reason for the change in your eyes!" she protested straightaway, annoyed by the comparison. "Your family wouldn't happen to have any Metamorphmagus blood, would they?"
Only Granger could ask such a question and expect a precise answer.
"Not that I know of." he replied honestly.
Granger gave an evasive hmm but didn't insist. Yet her eyes remained fixed on his, as if to see if they were still changing colour. Draco was sure that the moon's reflection was playing tricks on his pupils, but he didn't dare contradict Granger's theory and let her look at his eyes as she wished.
Granger slowly slipped her hand from Draco's grip on her wrist and absentmindedly placed her fingers against his. He watched her gesture, trying to hide his pleasure at seeing her do it so naturally.
"What were the other Slytherins dressed as tonight?" she asked, probably trying to change the subject.
"Let's see... Pansy dressed as a fairy, a costume she shared with Blaise, who's an elf..."
"Zabini let himself be disguised?" asked Granger, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Blaise was the quickest to be persuaded, actually." said Draco, amused that she could think otherwise. "Blaise always agrees to whatever Pansy asks of him, he was even the one who had to insist that Theo and I buy our costumes."
"Oh." Granger said thoughtfully. "I thought Zabini would be the most resistant to this sort of thing. He's not very... expressive." she commented.
"That's because you don't know him well enough. Once you're friends with him, he's probably the most loyal person there is."
Granger smiled slightly at that and waited for the next part with a small nod.
"Theo dressed up as Dracula..." Draco continued.
This time, Granger hiccupped in surprise.
"Dracula is known among wizards?!"
"No, he isn't." Draco replied. "It's Theo, he wanted to disguise himself as a Muggle..."
"Dracula isn't a Muggle, he's a vampire." Granger pointed out at once, just like Theo did when he was a nerd. "I'm surprised Theodore knows about this, it's an old Muggle legend..."
"Theo's probably read every Muggle book on the planet." Draco said with a shrug. "I told you, he loves Muggle culture, always has."
"What did Parkinson say when she saw a costume like that?" asked Granger, both laughing and a little concerned.
"Nothing, she didn't notice." Draco confessed. "She was a bit... indisposed."
Granger frowned, clearly not understanding the implication.
"She's had a few drinks." Draco explained briefly, not wanting to go into detail.
"Oh."
Granger clearly didn't know how to take this information: she stared at the dark planks of the bench with a thoughtful expression. Then she raised her head and asked in a low voice:
"What about you? Have you been drinking?"
Draco thought of the two glasses of apple liqueur, the shot of Dragon's Spit and all the glasses of whisky he'd drunk since he'd been at Hogwarts, and his mouth twisted in apprehension at the thought of telling her. Granger waited patiently, her large, curious eyes fixed on him in a perfect display of innocence.
"A little." he admitted.
"What have you been drinking?"
"Not Butterbeer." Draco replied, evasively enough to avoid giving her a straight answer.
Granger didn't insist and Draco was relieved.
"It's ironic." he said, pointing at the wings on her back. "An angel asking me if I've sinned... It's a bit unnerving."
Granger laughed, and the sound echoed through the surrounding trees and into Draco's every pore like a melody.
"So what about you?" asked Draco after she'd caught her breath. "What did the Gryffindors dress up as?"
She thought for a second and an involuntary smile formed on her lips as she remembered her friends' costumes.
"Well, Harry's a vampire too, which is kind of ironic considering he's in a "wizard-style" vampire, so not as pale as the Muggle ones." Granger explained. "Ginny is a water creature, with an effect on her hair that keeps it wet all night and a fake mermaid tail that prevents her from dancing the way she wants to." (She laughed a little and Draco couldn't help but smile back). "Ron had the terrible idea of dressing up as a house-elf just to annoy me. He took all my knitted hats and put them on his head..."
She rolled her eyes, but Draco could see the smile still on her lips, proof that she wasn't really offended by Weasley's behaviour.
"Fred and George dressed up... as Umbridge." she said, and this time Draco couldn't help but burst out laughing. "They wear plush pink robes and spend the evening on their knees imitating her screeching voice, it's as funny as it is unbearable."
"Theo would have loved to see that." Draco said, imagining his friend's reaction to such a spectacle.
"And Neville..."
Granger suddenly bit her lip, as if hesitant to reveal his costume to him. Draco immediately arched an intrigued eyebrow:
"Yes?"
"Promise me you won't make fun of him, please." Granger asked in a low voice.
"I could never promise you that." Draco replied briskly.
"Please."
"Tell me."
"Promise me!"
"I promise I'll try not to laugh."
Granger stopped biting her lip and surrendered:
"He disguised himself as a Mandrake."
Draco barely had time to imagine Longbottom's body in a flower pot before he burst out laughing. Granger pouted disapprovingly, but he could see she was holding back her laughter as well.
"Draco, stop it!" she squealed.
"A Mandrake?! Seriously? How did you not laugh when you saw him?"
"Because he's my friend..."
"Oh, stop it! I'm sure you've been holding it in all evening. That's why you came to the bench, isn't it? To get away from that vision?"
"Nonsense."
"Friend or not, if Theo turned up as a fucking plant on Halloween, I'd be laughing my ass off at him all night..."
"Draco, your language!" scolded Granger with round eyes.
The image of Granger as an angel scolding him for his language was enough to send him into another fit of giggles. The Gryffindor pretended to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear to hide her own smile. Her other hand instinctively squeezed Draco's fingers that she was still holding: her skin was burning, he could feel her heart beating against her thin skin.
"Have you been dancing?" he asked.
He saw her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.
"No. How do you know?" she asked hastily, unintentionally revealing herself.
"Your skin is warm." he said.
Without thinking, he intertwined his fingers in hers, telling himself it was only to see if her palm was clammy from exertion, not at all to hold her hand.
"I just danced with Fred." she confessed quietly. "Just one dance, but it was enough to make me die of heat."
Draco felt a pang of jealousy at the thought that one of the Weasley twins might have seen Granger dancing and not him, and Granger must have sensed his change in mood because she approached him with a small chuckle:
"Jealous, Draco?"
"Not at all." he lied. "Why Fred and not the other one?"
"George was busy selling forbidden sweets to the first years." she grumbled, suddenly annoyed. "I suppose Fred danced with me to distract me from their little business..."
"Were they the ones who gave you a Butterbeer?" he asked, already guessing her answer.
"Of course they were. They're determined for me to make a fool of myself in front of everyone one more time, they say it would fill them with happiness to see me like this again..."
Draco winced, not sure if he wanted to see Granger drunk again: it had been a rather disturbing experience.
"I only had one and gave the rest to Ginny." Granger confessed with a mischievous little smile. "Fred and George didn't see a thing."
Suddenly her face dropped slightly and a veil of sadness fell over her eyes.
"It was a good evening, but..."
"But what?" he asked.
Granger sighed and pushed a lock of hair away to do something with her hand that wasn't taken.
"Well... Halloween isn't exactly a jolly day for Harry." she muttered.
Draco didn't have to ask her why. The 31st of October 1981, a date etched in the memory of every child born in those years, the day Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord Himself, without even knowing how to hold a wand. The day his parents sacrificed themselves and changed the course of history.
"He didn't like the party, I take it?" asked Draco without a trace of malice in his voice.
"No, he didn't. And I know Fred and George organised the party to cheer everyone up, but I think it's too dark a time to be fully in the mood. With Umbridge, the war, Cedric's death still fresh in our minds, and..."
Granger lowered her head sadly, a cascade of curls falling in front of her face.
"What?" asked Draco in an urgent tone.
She didn't raise her head, and Draco wanted to push her hair away to see if she was crying. It took her a while to answer, and when she did, her voice was full of sobs.
"For me, Halloween has always rhymed with Hagrid."
Draco pressed his lips together, not knowing what to say. Part of him, the part Granger called Malfoy, wanted to make a sarcastic comment, a mockery, even an insult. But another part of him, Draco, the part that inhabited his head the most when he was next to her, felt a stab of pain in his chest at seeing her so upset. For the first time in his life, Draco desperately wanted to take someone's sadness and make it his own, to relieve her of the feeling that was hurting her.
It was impossible, of course, so instead he did what Blaise would have done in his case. He stroked the back of her hand gently and let her speak without interrupting:
"I mean, is it really Halloween without its pumpkin patch? Without its cinnamon tea and over-baked cookies?" she asked, her voice tinged with sadness. "Being at Hogwarts without him is so strange, I feel like he's going to pop down the corridor at any moment with his big smile, or offer me tea in his hut the following weekend... Halloween only reminds me of his absence. I hate not knowing where he is. If he's..."
Granger wiped her cheeks with a sniffle and Draco didn't stop drawing circles on her skin.
"I'm sorry, Granger." he murmured, and he really was. He was sorry to see her so miserable, even if he struggled to understand the reasons why.
They didn't speak for several minutes, their hands still intertwined, the October wind whipping their faces in icy gusts. Granger was as sad as ever and he could see she was struggling to keep from crying. Draco found it hard to understand how their conversation could have taken such a dramatic turn: he'd much preferred it when she'd talked about his blue eyes.
As always when he spoke to Granger, Draco found himself confessing far more than usual. He rarely, if ever, talked about his painful memories, so he was the first to be surprised when his mouth opened by itself and poured out a flood of words he couldn't control:
"You know, I don't really like Halloween either."
Granger looked up, taken aback by this out of the blue confession.
"Really? Why?"
"It brings back a bad memory." he said vaguely.
Granger was very interested now. She turned her full attention to him and waited impatiently for the rest of his secret. Draco was convinced that Granger had the same effect on him as Veritaserum: one question, and he would reveal his most intimate secrets.
"When I was nine, on Halloween night, I went to meet Pansy and Blaise in a pumpkin patch not far from my house." he said in a low voice. "Blaise had brought some sweets, and he'd also got some sort of fake wand that made sparks if you shook it too hard, so we could pretend to do magic."
Granger grinned at this. Draco continued, his voice suddenly a little shaky:
"We played with it for hours until it didn't spark anymore because we'd used it so much. And because I was such an idiot and wanted to be better than the others, I told them I didn't really need a wand, because I could do magic on my own. Of course, they laughed in my face. Nobody can do magic until they get to Hogwarts. And I was so humiliated, so angry that they could laugh at me, that I accidentally shot a bolt of magic. I guess the build-up of frustration and anger just exploded and I couldn't control myself. I was hit in the face, just below the eye. A big gash, quite deep."
He showed her where, under his eyelashes, his skin was a little whiter than the rest of his face.
"Pansy did her best to treat it with herbs, but it didn't help. My mother almost fainted when she saw me. She's so obsessed with appearances that she was mortified to see her nine-year-old son with a cut like he'd been in a fight. Of course, my father found out within half an hour. It was hard to hide such an obvious injury, even though Dobby had healed me a little."
He could clearly feel the shiver running down Granger's arm and Draco tightened his grip on her hand as if to reassure her.
"My father took me into his study. I thought he was going to shout at me, punish me by forbidding me to leave the Manor... But instead, he was very calm. He told me that I had to learn to control my magic, that if I hurt myself with it, it would be a sign of weakness. Then he lifted the sleeve of his cloak and showed me the Mark on his arm and told me that if I was weak, he would call the Dark Lord to punish me."
Granger let out a muffled exclamation and put her other hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
"I was completely frozen in fear." Draco explained. "The Mark was white, extinct for years, but I believed him and I was terrified. I had nightmares for days."
"Oh, Draco, that's terrible!" moaned Granger.
"I didn't tell anyone." he admitted. "Not Blaise, not even Pansy. I was ashamed, I think. Of being afraid of Him."
"Still, it's normal." Granger said firmly. "Anyone would have been afraid of him, hearing that kind of threat."
Draco nodded. He wished she could have comforted little Draco from that time, he needed it far more than he did.
"I think we were all scared, but didn't really want to admit it to each other." he said. "You-Know-Who was always a taboo subject for us, our parents rarely talked to us about it. I didn't find out his real name until a few months before Hogwarts, when my father accidentally told me after he'd had too much to drink."
It was Granger's turn to stroke the back of Draco's hand, a gesture so comforting that Draco forgot for a moment where he was. It was just the two of them, sitting on their bench, and Granger's thumb tracing circles over his skin.
"With Hogwarts, I kind of forgot about it." Draco continued with a sigh. "I think I suppressed all those horrible memories of my father, telling myself he did it to protect me. It wasn't until Theo told me it was the Dark Mark in the sky on the night of the Quidditch World Cup that I remembered that moment. I've had a bit of trouble with Halloween ever since."
She clenched her fingers and gave him a sad little smile.
"Lucifer is far away." she said, and Draco recognised the nickname she'd given him in her letters, as if she didn't want to say the real one out loud. "He's far away now, and you're here. You have nothing to fear."
He didn't reply, because he didn't quite agree. Granger's optimism might have been tempting, but he knew he was deluding himself. Lucius might be far away, but he was always at the back of his mind, ready to jump out and frighten him.
He had expected them to fall into silence, but of course Granger's curiosity kicked in again and she asked him:
"Have you seen it again since? The Dark Mark?"
Draco tried to remember by going through the books in his mental library. After several minutes he answered:
"My father showed it to me a few times after that, either to frighten me or accidentally, by taking off his cloak or rolling up his sleeves. It was always white. Last year he told me in a letter that he could feel His return, I guess the Mark burned him then. And... Snape showed me his, towards the end of last year. His was black, and it moved."
He'd revealed this information thinking Granger would be shocked to hear about Snape, but she just nodded, obviously already aware of their Potions teacher's Mark on his arm. Draco wondered how that could be, but he didn't want to ask her. He knew he didn't need to remind her not to repeat that confidential information. He had the impression that once they were on that bench, everything they said to each other immediately became a secret between them.
Granger remained thoughtful for a few minutes, her eyes resting on the illuminated windows of the Castle's façade. Draco kept staring at her. With her head in the air, her cheeks rosy from the wind, her dark curls standing out against the white fabric of her dress, she was the perfect representation of an angel.
"I should go." she said after a few minutes. "I told Fred I was going out for some fresh air, I'm afraid he'll start looking for me if he doesn't see me coming back."
Draco nodded and withdrew his hand from hers as slowly as possible, enjoying the warmth of her skin one last time before she disappeared back into the Castle.
She stood, her white dress falling gracefully to her ankles. She straightened her wings, but did not place the halo in her hair, preferring to keep it in her hand. Then she danced from foot to foot in front of him, a habit she often picked up when she was embarrassed.
"Thank you." she finally said, not really looking him in the eye. "For being here tonight. I was hoping you would be when I got to the bench."
He smiled, because that was exactly why he'd wanted to come out.
"My pleasure, Granger." he said sincerely.
"And Draco... Can I ask you something?"
The boy looked at her face, surrounded by a halo of brown curls, and answered honestly:
"Anything."
He saw a small glimmer of hope in her bright eyes.
"Actually, I didn't want to ask you because I didn't want to know the answer, but I need to know... Do you know what happened to Hagrid?"
Draco clenched his fist compulsively as he stiffened against the bench.
"I..."
"You mentioned it, in Herbology class, just after school started." she insisted, unconsciously moving closer to him. "You told Harry that he'd "messed with something too big for him." You know something, don't you? Did your father tell you what happened to him?"
Draco hesitated for a moment. Granger was standing in front of him, her face marked with sadness, concern, impatience and curiosity, her white wings protruding from the back of her head. With the glow of the windows still on, Draco had the impression that she was surrounded by a golden aura, adding to her angelic appearance.
"Granger, I..."
"Tell me, Draco. You've always told me the truth, even when it hurt." she said, her voice full of confidence. "I want you to be honest. Tell me what happened to Hagrid, I can handle it."
Draco wasn't so sure: behind her determined eyes, he could see a certain terror at hearing the fateful news she so feared. She was trembling too, and he knew it had nothing to do with the wind.
"I don't know, Granger." Draco admitted with a sigh. "My father just told me that he'd been spotted in a giant's camp and that he'd probably been crushed by now. I have no other information about his condition, I don't know where he is or if he's still alive."
She closed her eyes and a small tear rolled down her cheek. When she opened them again, she looked in the direction of Hagrid's hut, the outline of which she could probably make out in the night. Then she nodded and smiled at Draco, a smile without joy, an empty, sad smile that broke his heart.
"Thank you." she said simply.
Then she turned on her heels and walked away, Draco could see the shine of her white dress all the way through the darkness.
He followed her shortly afterwards, reluctant to sit on the bench now that she was gone. He suddenly felt an overwhelming fatigue, and wondered if it wasn't the weight of his confession on his shoulders.
When Draco arrived in the Common Room, Pansy was still astride the knees of the boy she was kissing full on the lips, and Blaise wasn't there. Draco went to the dormitory and found Theo asleep on his blankets, an open book half on his chest, a box of chocolates to his left. He slept with his mouth open because of the sharp teeth he hadn't removed. Blaise's bed was closed.
Draco went into the bathroom and ran water over his face to remove the skeleton make-up Pansy had applied.
He watched the coloured water swirl around the bottom of the sink, white, grey, black, and thought of his angel above him, praying that she wouldn't cry herself to sleep tonight.
.
.
Hermione
.
.
The day after Halloween, Hermione was so preoccupied that Ron disarmed her twice during their Dumbledore's Army session. The third time, as her wand fell to the floor and rolled to Lee's feet, Ron approached her, his eyebrows furrowed in his typical worried expression.
"Are you all right, Mione? You seem out of it."
Indeed, she was. Hermione's entire mind was still focused on her conversation with Draco on their bench the night before. She had the impression that they had never been as close as they had been that night. Draco had confessed to her about a deeply intimate subject, and without her knowing exactly why, it had only strengthened her feelings for him. He had been more human than ever before.
"I didn't get much sleep." she lied, an excuse she must have used a hundred times since their third year.
Yet this time it was true. Hermione hadn't slept well, spending the rest of the night brooding and tossing and turning in her bed, unable to find sleep.
"Me neither." Ron admitted in a small voice, and Hermione looked up at him in surprise. Ron never had trouble sleeping.
"How come?"
Hermione saw his Adam's apple rise up his throat as he swallowed.
"The match." he replied, the fear piercing his voice. "I'm afraid of... making a fool of myself, I don't know."
"Don't be silly, Ronald." she said, patting him on the shoulder. "You're going to be great, I have no doubt."
In truth, she had no idea. She'd never seen Ron play Keeper before, and the Slytherin match was approaching at an excruciating pace, but he looked reassured and cracked a small smile.
"Make me believe again that I can disarm you a few times and it'll restore my confidence."
She gave a little overlapping laugh, and just then Harry announced the end of the session. Hermione took the opportunity to pick up the basket she'd prepared during her sleepless night the night before, and showed everyone the fake Galleon coins inside.
"I've found a way to let you know the date and time of our next meeting," she announced. "I don't want to be noticed by any of the teachers, especially one in particular, and if we go through the Great Hall every time, it will look suspicious."
Hermione took one of the large coins between her fingers and raised her hand for all to see.
"See the numbers on the edge of the coin? On the real Galleons, it's just a serial number that identifies the goblin who minted the coin. On these counterfeit coins, however, the numbers change to indicate the day and time of the next meeting. When the date changes, the coin heats up and you'll feel it in your pocket. We'll each have a fake Galleon. When Harry sets the date for the next meeting, he will change the numbers on his own Galleon, and as I have put a Protean Charm on all the coins, the others will automatically show the same numbers."
Hermione put the coin back in the basket. When she looked up, she was surprised to see a dozen astonished faces turned towards her. There was a great silence in the Room of Requirement.
"Well, I... I thought it was a good idea..." she said, her voice suddenly uncertain. "Even if Umbridge asks us to empty our pockets, she won't see anything suspicious in a simple Galleon... But... if you don't want my system..."
"You can cast a Protean Charm?" asked Terry Boot in astonishment.
"Yes." Hermione replied.
"But that's... that's NEWT's level."
"Oh." said Hermione, trying as hard as she could to control her blush. "Yeah, um, it's possible..."
"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" he asked, looking at Hermione with an expression that was close to wonder. "With a brain like yours?"
"Oh, it's true that the Sorting Hat seriously considered sending me there at the time of my Sorting Ceremony, but in the end decided on Gryffindor. So you're fine with the Galleons?"
There was a murmur of agreement and each of them came and took a coin from the basket, thanking her. Terry Boot congratulated her one last time, clearly taken aback by Hermione's level. Just after he had gone, she exchanged a look with Ron, who seemed proud of her.
Harry, on the other hand, was a little more glum. As the Patil twins took a Galleon, he leaned over to Hermione and whispered:
"Do you know what this reminds me of?"
"No, what?" asked Hermione.
"The Mark of the Death Eaters." he replied sharply.
Hermione felt her heart sink a little as she heard that. She glanced sideways at her best friend, but there was no accusation in his features, only bitterness.
"Actually... yes." Hermione admitted in a low voice. "That's what gave me the idea..."
She thought back to Draco confiding in her about his father's announcement of Voldemort's return because of his burning Mark, to his trembling voice when he had told her, to the idea that had come to her late that night when she remembered their conversation.
"But you'll have noticed that I carved the numbers into pieces of metal, not skin." Hermione pointed out in what she hoped was a light tone.
"Yes... I prefer your method." Harry said with a smile and slipped the fake Galleon into his pocket.
Harry and Ron went first to make sure the coast was clear, then gradually all the students left, chatting happily. Hermione tidied up the Room of Requirement a bit, and as the last student, Colin Creevey, left with a cheerful "Goodbye Hermione!", Hermione took her own Galleon and put her wand in her pocket. She was about to open the door when she heard someone coughing behind her and she gasped.
It was Fred.
She hadn't seen him, because he was hidden in a corner of the room, in the shadows. His famous mischievous smile was on his lips. George wasn't there, and it was an extremely strange sight to see one twin without the other.
"Fred?" called Hermione unnecessarily.
"I wanted to talk to you." he said matter-of-factly.
He covered the few feet that separated them in three long strides without losing his smile. He approached her, so close that she could smell the powdered fireworks and sweets clinging to the seams of his jumper. He was so tall that she had to look up to see his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Fred, if you're asking if I'd be interested in being a guinea pig for one of your inventions..."
"No, it's nothing like that." he cut in, still smiling, and Hermione stopped talking with a look of surprise. "Actually, it's got nothing to do with me."
"What then?"
"Mione, I'm going to ask you a question." he announced, sounding so solemn that Hermione felt worry prickle her fingers. "I'm going to ask you a question, a True or False, and you're going to have to answer me honestly. Deal?"
Hermione looked at the twin uncomprehendingly. Expecting something stupid, she frowned and muttered a not very reassuring "deal".
"You're in love with Malfoy." he said calmly. "True or False?"
