It was the week before Christmas during her fourth year at Hogwarts.
She was out in the snow for reasons she couldn’t properly remember by the time she had stepped out of the entrance hall. Perhaps, it was just that she wanted to be away from her cousins for a second. Not that she was the sort of person who loved solitude and preferred to stay alone all the time; their presence got too overwhelming sometimes.
As cold as the weather was, she found herself enjoying her impromptu walk and relishing the beauty of the scenery around her. The castle had been decorated profusely with tiny golden lights, and it sparkled against the serene, snow-clad grounds. Pulling her hat tighter over her head, she took the pathway which led to Hagrid’s. The ground was surprisingly dry; she supposed Hagrid’s pink umbrella had been busy.
She had just taken a turn to the left when a tiny ball of golden light floated from behind and hovered in front of her face. She raised her hand to touch it. As soon as she did, it broke into thin strands which merged to form a flower that fluttered as though it was caught in a light breeze.
“Wow,” she said softly.
“Like it?” asked a voice.
She turned around and saw someone standing a few feet behind her. A boy from Slytherin who was in her year.
“That was a good piece of magic,” she told him.
In reply, he twirled his wand. The golden flower flew straight back to him and landed softly in his outstretched hand. He played it with, making it bounce upon his palm a few times before raising it to his lips and making it disperse with a “Poof”.
“It’s quite easy,” he finally said, looking up as though he had just realised she’d been standing there.
“Was it one of those lights attached to the castle wall?”
He nodded. “A simple Detachment Charm, followed up by a Levitation Charm.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know how you manipulated it to resemble a flower.”
“You’ll find out in Charms class next year,” he replied, the hint of smugness in his voice rather apparent, even though the expression on his face was still neutral.
“Are you studying fifth-year textbooks already?”
“Well, I have to beat somebody,” he said. This time, there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
She suppressed a smile. “Do you think I should get back inside and shut myself up in the library?”
“Whatever you need to do, Weasley,” he said, smirking. “This year, I’m knocking you off the top spot.”
He had already started walking away when she said, “You know, I didn’t come here to compete with you.”
“Really?” he asked, facing her again.
“Did you?”
“Me?” he said. “I came here to compete with everybody.”
And with that, he left her. That was the first time they had ever spoken to each other, in spite of having classes together for more than three years. There had never been any need to talk “ they came from different houses, had their own friend circle, and they were from two families who had never seen eye-to-eye. They were also the best students in class, although she had never felt that she was his rival. Or that he was hers. Her father certainly felt so, but that hadn’t ever affected her.
Now, however, she was interested.
People said she was a replica of her mother; they were right in certain respects. For example, she liked fulfilling her duties as a Prefect.
For that particular character trait, she had been labeled a ‘complete bore’ by James. Hugo followed his older cousin’s example and wanted to disown her for being the first Prefect in the family since Victoire. Albus didn’t make a big deal about it, as Albus was wont to do. The remaining cousins complained only when she interfered in their mischief-making.
But she could live with animosity like that. Being responsible came naturally to her; she thrived in it. It was, however, not the reason why she was patrolling the corridors on an off-duty night in place of her fellow Prefect, letting him join the (illegal) pre-Christmas house party. On the other hand, it was presently serving as the pretext for staying away from the jubilant housemates.
When faced with the ultimatum of joining the partying or being ostracised, she had deftly skirted around both by offering to patrol the corridors so that she could alert them if a teacher happened to come around. She doubted if that had completely convinced her friends, but with that excuse, she had managed to slip by without much hullabaloo.
The thing was, she wanted to avoid a boy called Jimmy Holmes. He was the sixth year student from her house, very attractive, and a Beater in the Quidditch team. He had asked her out once to Hogsmeade, and she had agreed to go, thrilled with the fact that he liked her enough to ask. They had kissed “ her first kiss “ but it wasn’t too long before Holmes was fooling around with another girl, who was considered to be the prettiest girl in the school. She figured she could do without having to watch the two snogging their way through the night.
Half an hour into the patrolling, she felt unusually tired. She wondered if she should turn back, but it seemed to be the worse option so she took the stairs and made for the sixth floor instead. She had just stepped off the staircase when she caught a whiff of smoke “ cigarette smoke. Instantly alert, she slowed down and walked softly so that her footsteps didn’t alert the culprit.
The vaguely pungent smell led her to the Ancient Runes classroom. She took out her wand as she reached the open door. There was a figure standing in the greenish haze, silhouetted against the large window.
“Evanesco!” she said, making the cloud of smoke disappear. She recognised the smoker to be the fifth-year Slytherin Prefect.
“You’re not on duty tonight,” he said in a voice that was too calm.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?”
“What do you think?”
“You were smoking,” she said. “It is against the school rules, you know that.”
“It’s for my health.”
“And you think I’m buying that?” she snapped. “I recognise the stink. Isn’t it one of your aunt’s preferred brand?”
“How do you know about Daphne’s habits?” he asked interestedly.
“She’s dating one of dad’s friends, isn’t she?” she answered. Her wand was still on him. “Met her in the Leaky Cauldron this summer. She was smoking the same thing, and I can’t believe she’s letting you do this.”
“Don’t make assumptions.” He looked annoyed as he sat down on one of the chairs. “I stole it from her.”
“I don’t really care how you got your hands on it,” she said, pocketing her wand as he didn’t look as though he was about to hex her for finding out. “Neither do I care what you do at home. I just don’t want you smoking in the school again.”
“Not reporting me, are you?”
She considered him before replying. For a moment, she wanted to say she was going to, if only to shake the cool indifference with which he was handling the situation. However, she shook her head.
“You aren’t on duty tonight, though,” he said. “Why are you out?”
“None of your business,” she said rather quickly.
He raised an eyebrow. “It is my business to know why a student is out of bed. If you’re off-duty, you aren’t allowed to leave your common room after curfew. What were you planning to tell the professors if caught?”
“Jackson is sick. We switched our rosters.”
“I thought he had a party to attend?” he said, and then started to laugh. “God, Weasley. You love being a Prefect that much?”
She glared at him. “Do you still want me to save your hide?”
He got up and walked to where she was standing with slow, deliberate steps. “Do you?” he asked, facing her.
Ignoring him, she turned to leave, but he caught her hand.
“What the- ?”
“Will you let me best this year?” he asked, grinning as he let her hand fall.
“Not a chance,” she said.
“Are you going home for Christmas?” she asked him.
They had been paired up to work on their Protean Charm, both being the only students left in their house without a partner.
“Mmm…” he said, tapping a parchment on which “Merry Christmas” was written while observing a blank one next to it.
“I’ve always wanted to know how Hogwarts celebrates Christmas,” she continued. “I might stay back this time.”
He nodded tersely as he went on tapping the parchment and muttering the charm under his breath. She watched him without commenting. He finally threw his wand on the desk in frustration; it rolled towards her side and she caught it as it fell off the edge.
“What are you having trouble with?” she asked.
He shoved the previously blank parchment towards her. It said “M - - - y Ch - - - - a - ” so far. She erased it and asked him to write something else. Taking up his quill, he wrote “I hate N.E.W.T. classes”.
She smiled as she wiped the other parchment clean with a wave of her wand.
“Watch me closely,” she said. With a single tap of her wand, the words he had just written appeared on the blank parchment.
“Neat,” he said.
“Where do you think you went wrong?”
“I dunno, to be honest.”
“Let me see you try again.”
“Nah,” he said. “Class is almost over. I’ll give it a go in my dorm tonight.”
As if on cue, the bell rang. The Professor started announcing the homework, but she wasn’t paying attention.
“Are you all right?” she asked him. “You’re struggling a bit these days.”
“Been stalking my every move?” he asked. He didn’t look at her as he packed his things.
“It’s a bit obvious. You’re not only taking time learning new spells. Your Patronus was weak during Defence yesterday, but you were one of the first to conjure it back in September.”
As soon as she said it, she regretted it; the look on his face changed from nonchalance to incredulity to annoyance. He waited for the last student to leave before standing up. “Leave me alone,” he muttered. “You’re not my bloody mother.”
“If you want help,” she persisted, “I can help you.”
He stared at her for so long she blushed. “Father was right about your mother, then,” he said at last. “Such an effing know-it-all. I can’t believe how-”
SMACK.
“Don’t you have a go at my mum, you arsehole,” she snarled. “I was offering to help you because you’re brilliant.”
The slap appeared to have stunned him; he just gaped at her. For the first time since she had known him, he seemed to be at a loss for words. She was, however, too angry to care. Picking up her bag and swinging it on to her shoulder rather violently, she said, “You know what, Malfoy, my father was right about yours. He’s a self-satisfied twat, isn’t he? And you’re just like him.”
Without bothering to wait for a comeback, she started to walk way, but the sound of his laughter stopped her. She whipped around and raised an eyebrow in question.
“I thought you were above it,” he said.
When she didn’t humour him enough to ask why, he continued, “I mean, this…whatever is there between our families. Hatred, distrust, disgust…whatever it is. Thought you didn’t buy it.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I was advised by my father to keep away from you, but I didn’t take it. I reckoned I’d give you a chance. But now I know it didn’t make any difference, so I’ll just go with the flow.”
He received this with the inscrutable expression which his face often assumed when he considered something she had said. Usually, this side of him intrigued her, but that day, she was too infuriated to care. She made for the door and had almost reached it when he yelled, “Wait!” She obliged and stopped, although she didn’t turn back.
He was by her side in no time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Now, it was her turn to gape at him. “Come again?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, wincing as though the apology was causing him physical pain. “I shouldn’t have made that joke about your mum.”
Completely thrown by the turn of events, she merely continued gaping.
“Mum jokes are the worst,” he said, nodding. “All it takes to rail someone is say, “Your mum” and they “”
This time, he ducked, but he was laughing again. “No, I’m really sorry,” he said. Then, he caught both of her hands, and they wrestled a little as she fought to free them. “Listen, listen,” he said in an attempt to pacify her, “help me out.”
“No “ I “ will “ effing “ not!”
“You will,” he said, grinning as she got tired and let their arms fall limp together, “because I’m too brilliant to go to waste.” Looking into her eyes, he added, “And I am going to waste.”
They were silent for a while after that.
“All right,” she said finally. “But I’ll kick your arse if you continue being an…arse.”
Chuckling, he said, “I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“My…hands.”
“What about them?”
“Let them go, you daft idiot.”
He obeyed her, and then with a short bow and a brief smile, he left her in the empty Charms classroom.
It was Christmas, and they were taking advantage of the nearly-empty school and relaxed rules by breaking curfew and spending a night together in the Ancient Runes classroom. The room was an ideal spot for their plans as it was vast and had tall windows, and for some inexplicable reason, a fireplace. All chairs and desks had been pushed to the side, and she had conjured blue flames which roared in the fireplace, keeping them warm as they lay in their sleeping bags, watching the pristine moon shining brightly outside.
“I can’t believe this is our last year at Hogwarts,” she said.
“Mmm…Can I smoke?”
“No.”
“It’s Christmas!”
“And that thing could kill you.”
“Daphne has been smoking for years,” he insisted. “She hasn’t died yet.”
“You don’t die right away,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But it damages your lungs and could -”
“You’re seriously boring company sometimes,” he cut in. “Karen didn’t mind me smoking while we were “”
“Who?”
“Karen. Karen Stebbins.”
“The Ravenclaw?”
“Yeah. The one with the blonde hair.”
“Oh,” she said, somewhat shocked. “Is that…is that who you kept disappearing with last year?”
“Oh yeah,” he answered cheerfully. “Very sexy, don’t you think?”
“I…well, yes, she’s quite pretty,” she replied.
“Quite pretty?” he repeated. “Are you nutters? ‘Quite pretty’ doesn’t even begin to describe her. Shame she got a bit tiresome towards the end. I mean, she was quite a great shag.”
“You…you had sex with her?”
“Of course I did.”
“Oh.”
“What?” He propped himself up on an elbow. “Why? You’ve never done it?”
It was good that the moonlight couldn’t show the flush that was covering her face. “No,” she mumbled.
“Who have you been dating all these years?” he demanded. “I mean, c’mon, the boys here are like a pack of ravenous wolves, seriously, and the girls aren’t quite lagging behind. I know you can be a prude, but which saint have you been with?”
“No one,” she said truthfully. “The last person I dated was Jimmy Holmes, and that was three years ago.”
“Holmes?” he asked. “That utter git?”
“He was very sexy,” she said as she finally turned to face him.
“Yeah…but…” He looked confounded. “He’s not really your type.”
“I see,” she said, amused. “What is my type, then?”
He lay back to contemplate the answer. “Someone…someone who’s smart. Someone funny. Intelligent.”
“Holmes isn’t any of that?”
“He was just an annoying git.”
“Then who fits the bill?”
“Only one boy I know.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
She laughed.
“I am smart, funny and intelligent,” he insisted.
“What do we do about it?” she asked. To her relief, her voice came out firm, and not shaky.
“I could snog you senseless, for starters.”
His voice was just as even, but she couldn’t quite tell if he was serious. With him, things tended to be unpredictable. “I am not sexy,” she stated.
“Why would that be?”
“I am boring, aren’t I?”
“You’re wonderful.”
Heat was creeping up her face, but now she had to know. “Am I?”
“You’re my first, and only best friend.”
“Ah.”
“You were my first love as well.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she shifted and turned to the other side of the bed, not wanting to face him, or let him see her face. She was confused as hell, but the fact that he had so casually admitted he had once liked her, after having revealed he’d been sleeping with other girls while keeping his ‘best friend’ ignorant of his escapades hurt her, too. She could feel tears coming on, and she did not want to cry at all in front of him at that moment.
“I was so obsessed with you for a lot of reasons,” he continued. “You know how my family is about yours, although my father is not as bad as I’ve made him out him to be. I mean, yeah, he once made an off-hand comment about what a know-it-all your mum had been, but it was just that.
“I came prepared to trump you because of grandfather. Daphne’s boyfriend “ Thomas, I mean “ had told her you had your mum’s brain, and Daphne mentioned that during Christmas dinner the year before we came to Hogwarts…”
“And?” she prodded.
He chuckled. “I can’t believe I remember all these details. Anyway, grandfather sort of said I’d outdo you, and I really loved him back then, so it got stuck in my head. Which is maybe why I always failed at it, you know. You’ve always been the best because you didn’t feel the need to live up to your father’s unfair expectations.”
“Or, maybe, I was just brainier,” she joked. She felt a little cheerful now that he was talking, and talking more than he had ever done.
“As I grew up, though,” he said, apparently eager to relieve himself of whatever he had to say, “I discovered a lot of things about my family’s past. Besting everybody was not just a matter of impressing grandfather “ it was now a personal challenge because I had to prove myself better than what people expected of me.”
“Then what happened during fifth year?”
“I got tired.”
“You just started smoking.”
“It was an act of rebellion,” he said, sounding older than the seventeen-year-old he was. “Only…I don’t really know who I was rebelling against. Sometimes, I think it was my family, because I hated being a part of it. Then again, it could be that I was rebelling against myself. My family could hardly undo their past, and they loved me.”
“And…sixth year?”
“Don’t you see why?” he implored her.
“You fell apart,” she said gently. “You were being consumed by your personal battle.”
“Yeah. And it was funny that you were the one to get me up on my feet again. You gave me a chance, and it was all I needed.”
“But,” she said after shifting again to look at him, “how was I your first love? Because you were jealous of me being brainy? Or because I got you out of your pit of depression? I mean…” She brushed off a few strands of hair which had fallen across her face. “When was I your first love?”
“Dunno,” he said, his brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “But I realised it the week before Christmas of fourth year.”
“You mean that day when you showed me that little light trick?”
“Yeah.”
“So…you liked me because…”
“It’s not as simple as that,” he said hastily, realising where her train of thought was leading her to. “I always paid attention to you even if you didn’t. And…I just started liking you more after talking to you. You were different from the other girls.”
“So, why were you shagging Stebbins last year when I was no longer your enemy?” she inquired, unable to help herself.
“It didn’t strike me that you’d fancy me,” he said. “You never showed much interest in me that way. Also, I wasn’t planning to stay a virgin while the rest of the school was-”
“You’re gross!” she exclaimed in disgust.
“Sex isn’t exactly a bad thing,” he said dismissively.
“And if you’d told me you were dating her, I’d have shown you some indication of my own feelings.”
“Meaning,” he said, and he was propped up on an elbow again, “you’d have been upset?”
“Well “ I,” she said, flustered, “yeah.”
A wide grin enfolded on his face. “So…you do like me?”
“Wasn’t planning to tell you in such a crass fashion, but I do,” she admitted in defeat. “I mean, why else would I agree with your insane idea of spending the night in a classroom? I’m the Head Girl, after all. I’m making sacrifices here.”
“You know,” he said, still grinning, “I did suspect when you agreed to do this. I was too much of coward to confirm it, though.”
“You’re such a sorry Slytherin,” she said with a shake of her head.
“And you,” he said as he leant over and kissed the tip of her nose, “a fitting Gryffindor.”
“Aren’t you lucky?” she mumbled.
“Yeah. Didn’t know I’d be getting a shag tonight.”
She pushed him away with a groan. “Not “ an “ effing “ chance.”
Laughing, he took hold of her hand and kissed it. “I was kidding.”
“Thank Merlin.”
“Both of us could do with a snog, though.”
“No,” she said, but she was smiling as he pulled her bag closer with his wand and started kissing her.