“Hello, Molly.”
Molly Prewett looked up from the tinsel she was wrapping around the banister at the foot of the stairs and smiled.
“Hi, Dirk. What took you so long?”
Dirk shrugged. “I guess I lost track of the time.”
“Well, you really ought to”“
Apollyon Pringle, a red-faced man with a severe case of palsy, looked up, glowering, and cleared his throat loudly. Molly looked around, surprised at the interruption.
“Yes, Mr. Pringle?”
The aged caretaker took a breath, coughed loudly, and then said in a slow, deep, scratchy voice, “You are here to work, Miss Prewett, not to socialize.”
Molly’s eyebrows lowered. She looked perplexed.
“But, sir, I was only”“
“Do you want detention for disrespecting me, Miss Prewett?” Pringle rumbled. His bushy eyebrows were lowered to match hers, his beady eyes squinting near-sightedly in her direction.
Molly opened her mouth to protest that she meant no disrespect, but seeing Pringle’s expression, she closed it again and turned to glare at the tinsel in her hands. Dirk, silent and expressionless, took a new length of tinsel from the surly caretaker and began wrapping it around another banister.
Much of the evening passed in silence. Only when they had finished wrapping banisters in tinsel, putting up mistletoe (they were both very careful to avoid standing under the little green sprigs as they attached them to the ceiling), and hanging brightly coloured lanterns full of fairies, did Pringle dismiss them to patrol the corridors and they dared to speak again.
“So, how was your walk?” Dirk asked, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, an impish smile on his face.
Molly blushed.
“Oh, it was… good. Thank you.” She cleared her throat as they entered the Great Hall. “Eh hem, er, what are you doing over the holidays, Dirk?”
“I’m going home for the break,” said Dirk. “I can’t wait to be done with school and out in the real world. There’s a position in the Goblin Liaison Office that Professor Slughorn found for me that I’d like to take. It’s not an especially high position,” he added as Molly looked around in surprise, “but once I’m in, I can work my way up. What are you doing for the break?”
Molly smiled and looked around at the cheerily lit hall. A group of chattering first years staggered through the doors amidst a flurry of snowflakes and began pulling off their sopping wet gloves and scarves, their faces bright red with the cold. Nearby, a suit of armour started singing a carol.
“I’m staying here for Christmas. I’ve never spent the holiday here before, and, well, it’s the last year. I’ll never have the chance to spend it here again. I’ve loved the time I’ve been here. I’m not anxious to leave.”
Dirk grinned.
“You sound like Arthur. He’s staying, too.”
“That’s nice.”
Dirk grunted.
“Yeah, Arthur’s a good man, much better than me, anyway. I was surprised out of my mind in the fifth year when I was made a prefect. I thought, for sure, that he would get the badge. I’m too much of a troublemaker.”
Dirk grinned at Molly, who grimaced exaggeratedly. She had experienced the embarrassment of having her fellow prefect in detention when she had duty often enough over the last few years.
“But, really,” Dirk continued, “He’s so dedicated. You know how he wants to get into the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office? He only needed a passing OWL in Muggle Studies for it, but he is trying for a NEWT. He always gets his homework in on time, gets good grades…”
Dirk shook his head in amazement.
“I mean, I try, but Arthur… he tries harder.”
Molly was silent for a moment, then she shook her head and smiled. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
Dirk shook his head. “Nah, you’ve got that backwards. I am lucky to have him as a friend. We’ve been through a lot of tight spots together, him and me. But he keeps me in line most of the time. I probably would have been expelled years ago if not for good, old, Arthur.”
They were silent for a while as they climbed a steep set of stairs that had been hidden behind a tapestry. When they emerged from the stairwell, Dirk motioned that they should stop and catch their breaths for a moment. Molly leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Dirk sat on a plinth at the feet of a large, confused looking statue.
After a moment, Dirk looked up.
“So, what are your plans for after Hogwarts?”
Molly turned a deep red and then laughed at her own reaction. She walked over to a window and looked out at the falling snow as she answered.
“You’re going to think I’m silly, but I’d like to settle down. Find a man who’ll love me forever, marry him and… raise a family.”
There was a small, stifled giggle. Molly whirled around, looking up and down the corridor, her brown eyes angry and suspicious. A moment later, a sedate looking female ghost drifted through the wall, saw the glare on Molly’s face, raised an eyebrow then floated away with her chin in the air.
Molly, after shooting a glare at the ghost’s back, turned back to see Dirk’s reaction to her words. His face was surprisingly cool.
“So...eh hem. You want to settle down. Does that mean you and Wentworth are, er… I mean, has he asked you…?”
Molly’s blush deepened to a deep scarlet.
“Oh, no, I”” she stuttered, “No, no, we ” we’re not… We’re just ” just going out, as of now.”
Dirk grinned. “That’s good. Wouldn’t want to see you married off to a Ravenclaw!” He laughed at the frown these words inspired.
They continued their patrol in uncomfortable silence. For over an hour they walked the corridors of Hogwarts. Occasionally, they attempted conversation but were unable to sustain it for more than a few words. They were on the floor below the entrance to Gryffindor tower, nearly finished making their rounds, when they encountered the first sign of trouble.
Raised voices echoed down the corridor. Molly looked at Dirk, who raised his eyebrows. Prefect’s badges gleaming in the dim torchlight, they marched down the hallway and around the corner.
A little way down this new corridor, Andromeda Black, a willowy Slytherin fourth year, with long, dark hair, was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. She would have appeared entirely at ease if not for the fire dancing in her eyes and the haughty expression on her face. Standing across from her, and mirroring her arrogance and her anger, was her older sister, Bellatrix Black, a sixth year, also in Slytherin. Bellatrix looked rather more aggravated than her sister. She was pacing and waving her arms, her equally long and dark hair unusually frizzy. It was her voice that was producing the majority of the echoes.
“I saw you with him myself, ‘Dromeda, don’t lie! You know I can tell when you’re lying!”
“I never denied that I'm friends with him, Bella." Andromeda sounded as calm as she appeared, but there was a steely undertone to her voice.
“But even that is too much! He is a Mudblood, ‘Dromeda! You were born to be among your own kind, among those of a higher class then him! If you are seen with him it is as if you were seen with a Muggle!” Bellatrix spat the word as if it left a highly unpleasant taste in her mouth.
Molly glanced around at her fellow prefect, suddenly remembering that he was a Muggleborn. Dirk’s face was paler than usual, his mouth set in a hard line.
“Bella, Bella, please, let’s all calm down. ‘Meda, if you’ll just promise that you’ll not be friends with the Mudblood… We really shouldn’t argue," broke in a softer voice, and Molly noticed for the first time that the youngest Black sister, Narcissa, a Slytherin first year, was also part of the argument. She was much smaller than either of her sisters with long, white-blonde hair that was a startling contrast with their deep-black manes. She was at Bellatrix’s side, trotting after her as she paced, like a puppy looking for attention.
“Be quiet, ‘Cissy,” Bellatrix hissed at the same time that Andromeda, ignoring her younger sister’s comment, said in a slightly louder voice than she had used before, “It is none of your business who I am friends with, Bella. I choose who I spend my time with, not you! And I choose Ted.”
Bellatrix looked like she was preparing a scathing reply when Dirk interrupted.
“Is there a problem here, Black?” he asked, addressing Bellatrix.
All three sisters turned flashing eyes on the two Gryffindor prefects.
“This is a family matter, and no concern of yours, Cresswell!” snarled Bellatrix, using the same disgusted tone as she said his name as she had when she had spoken of Muggles.
“Whether it is or not, I suggest you take your sisters back to your common room and finish your discussion there. Fourth years and younger are not allowed out after eight.” Bellatrix glared.
“They are here with my permission. You seem to have forgotten,“ Bellatrix straightened and turned slightly so that the small golden badge on the front of her robes caught the light, “I am a prefect, too.”
Molly decided to intervene.
“Your position doesn’t change anything, Bellatrix. They are still not allowed out after hours. So why don’t you take your ‘family matter’ back to your house and let us get on with our job?”
Bellatrix opened her mouth, paused, then, sneering, asked, “Oh, yes, because you’d know all about family matters, wouldn’t you, Prewett?”
Molly, who had been expecting more yelling, was caught off guard.
“What?”
Dirk, who was paying more attention to the wand-arm of each sister, now, than he was to the conversation, caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw a certain redheaded boy with several books under his arm. Arthur's face was concerned as he walked cautiously down the corridor.
Bellatrix folded her arms, her face smug.
“You would know all about families, wouldn’t you, Prewett? It’s what you want to do after school, isn’t it? ‘Find a man who’ll love me, and raise a family,’” she repeated in a sing-song voice. “Isn’t that right?”
Molly’s face went red than white. Her eyes darted sideways to where Dirk was quietly greeting a worried Arthur Weasley. Dirk, hearing the last few words of Bellatrix’s taunt turned sharply to stare at her.
“How did you”?” Molly began.
“How did I hear? You must be blind as well as fat, Prewett. Rodolphus and I were standing behind that statue of Boris the Bewildered. We heard your romantic little dream. Too bad no one will ever ‘love you forever,’ let alone marry you, unless he’s twice as fat and ugly as you are! That boyfriend of yours must need glasses!”
Arthur’s face went bright red. Dirk had to grab his arm to keep him from yanking out his wand and hexing the smirking sixth year. Molly, however, ignoring the slights upon her personal appearance, replied blithely, “At least my father doesn’t need to pay him to ask me out, unlike…some people.” She smiled sweetly at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix looked like she had been slugged in the stomach. Her eyes were bulging and her mouth opened and closed, soundlessly. Andromeda grinned and winked at Molly from behind her sister’s back. Narcissa, however, put her little hands on her hips and screwed up her eleven year old face into a glare.
Molly crossed her arms. Standing as tall as she could, she said in a stern voice, “Now, I think I’ll be taking five points from Slytherin, for you two being out after hours, and another five for creating a disturbance. It’ll be five more if you are not out of my sight in less than a minute. Now, get going.”
Andromeda rolled her eyes, waved, and walked away. Narcissa glared a moment longer, then took her older sister by the arm.
“Come on, Bella.”
Bellatrix, having just recovered from the low blow she had been dealt, shook off her sister and turned to glare at Molly again. Her wand-hand twitched over her pocket, but both Dirk and Arthur cleared their throats, standing on either side of Molly like sentinels. Bellatrix’s wide black eyes flickered from Dirk, who was broadly built, and almost a head taller than her, to Arthur, who had a murderous scowl on his face, and was a full head taller than Dirk. Finally, they settled on Molly, whose lightly freckled face was unruffled.
“You just wait, Prewett. I swear, someday, you’re going to pay.”
Then she turned, stiffly, and stomped away, her chin in the air. Narcissa paused to stick out her tongue at the offending Gryffindors then followed her sister, her chin similarly raised.
Molly waited until the Slytherin sisters had turned the corner then let out a sigh. Turning, she seemed surprised to find the two young men standing over her, still glaring down the empty corridor.
“Come on, boys. Let’s get off to Gryffindor tower. I don’t know about you two,” she stifled a yawn, “but I am tired. Dealing with a disagreeable Black does drain one.”
And, humming quietly, Molly led the way down the corridor.