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Sucker Love

By: beachLEMON
folder Harry Potter › General
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 17
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Nowhere Better

Chapter 5 • Hermione






Chapter
5 • Hermione

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“Mione, where were you?” – “I heard you got into a major
accident!” – “Mum tried owling you but you didn’t answer.” – “Did you get
amnesia and not wake up for, like, eight months?” – “Did you get kicked out? I
mean, why would you?” – “Maybe she cheated on a test.” – “Are you joking?” –
“Hermione, what happened?”

 

I stared off into oblivion, envisioning sleeping soundly in
my bed, in my room instead of being here with all these people that I so
desperately wanted to see for a year. Now that I listened to them, I had no
idea why I’d wanted to get in touch with them. I knew that I was being a brat,
selfish and whiny, wanting all my friends to stop asking me where I was when
they had a right to know, but I had to wonder how any of them passed their
O.W.L.s. Amnesia? I had to struggle to keep from laughing at all the
preposterous ideas my dorm mates came up with and shared with me these past –
what, six, was it – minutes. It was like they’d been waiting for me to come
back so that they could finally settle a bet on where I was really located sixth
year. I felt really annoyed.

 

There’d been more comments than those last few; those are
just the ones I picked up on – the ones I didn’t tune out while staring
inanimately at a red and gold seat cushion. It suddenly bothered me how red and
gold everything was in our common room. Why did we have to look like we were
Gryffindor Quidditch team fanatics?

 

Harry pulled me out of my pondering. He just summed up
everything everyone had been meaning to ask in one way or another.

 

“Where’d you go, Mione?” he asked, worriedly, lines
creasing his forehead unusually. He was normally very calm – not worried, at
least; possibly angry, but he had no use for worry lines. It comforted me a
little to know that he was truly concerned.

 

I took a breath. I owed an explanation to them all, I
couldn’t escape it. It felt odd – prepping myself to tell the tale of my horrid
Muggle high school experience to the Gryffindor dorm because it wasn’t how I’d
imagined it happening at all. I pictured myself excited out of my mind, sitting
on – an annoyingly so – red and gold couch with everyone crowded around me
telling me how much they’d missed me and wondering where I’d gone to. I
imagined eager faces and concerned brows.

 

My fantasy wasn’t too far off, I supposed. The concerned
brows belonged to Harry and the eager faces belonged to everyone else in the
fairly small, crowded grouut Iut I knew that the eagerness in all of them
wasn’t to find out where I was because they were worried or interested – but
because they probably did have a bet or a pool going somewhere, somehow and
they needed to settle it. It was more out of curiosity than anything else. I
wanted to tell them all to go to hell with their curiosity; except for maybe
Harry. Ron, too, I supposed.

 

Something else that was off with my fantasy was that I
wasn’t at all excited about telling the group my journey. The journey sucked
and I knew it. I didn’t learn anything from it – I wasn’t going to pull out a
happy smile and say that at least everything worked out in the end. It sort of
did, and didn’t. And half and half didn’t work for me. As I mentioned before, I
was aware that I was acting like a brat. I didn’t give a flying fuck.

 

“Well?”

 

That impatience made me want to tell the story even less.

 

“Mum sent me to a Muggle school,” I explained monotonously
before getting up and heading towards the girls’ dormitories. “That’s it.”

 

“That’s it?” Dean asked. He sounded disappointed – didn’t
hide it too well, the poor boy. I did not – not at all – feel sorry for him.

 

“Yeah.” It came out snappish. I was surprised that it
didn’t come out venomous because that’s how I felt.

 

I turned around on the steps of the stairs, flipping my
chestnut hair over my tired shoulder and was about to tell Dean that my life
wasn’t a walking parade when the portrait hole opened, revealing someone I’d
seen before that day. I nearly smiled. He was, at the very least, not a hoard
of annoying people betting on my last year’s whereabouts. And I somehow knew
they had a bet going – I could just feel it. Or maybe I was paranoid.

 

“Evening, kiddies,” Malfoy greeted, his smirk firmly in
place as if it was obligatory around a large group of people. “Hope it’s not
past your bedtime; wouldn’t want those brave little souls of yours missing your
beauty sleep.”

 

I raised an eyebrow at his remark. It didn’t fit his usual
standard. The Malfoy I remembered had a cunning edge to his remarks, like his
heart and soul was dedicated to making the Gryffindors look like a pile of shit
in front of anyone who’d watch. This time his heart didn’t seem in it – like he
didn’t care if anyone thought that he might’ve come into the common to not
disrupt the peace.

 

I realized he was in our common room. It didn’t surprise me
much, but I knew he’d come in here for something. His eyes scanned the crowd of
murmuring people all in their bed clothsomesome covering up in front of him,
others too busy glaring at him to notice their indecent appearances. Oh, like
he cares, I thought amusedly as I watched Parvati and Ginny cover up their
nightgowns as his eyes briefly drifted over them.

 

His eyes landed on me. Ah, but of course – it had to be me.
He probably needed to ask me where I’d been for the past year – not unlike my
fellow Gryffindors – only he had a scheme behind it; some kind of trick or
remark he’d issue after my answer.

 

I waited. His eyes studied me much like I’d studied him
when we first met earlier that day but this time I was pissed and didn’t mind
getting into a quarrel with someone – anyone. I needed to blow off some steam.
My first day back – it just sucked. It wasn’t going the way I’d imagined it
would. It seemed no one cared. And it seemed I was too whiny. I guess, in a
way, I was annoyed with myself as well. I quickly analyzed that I might have
had a temper problem.

 

“Granger,” Malfoy finally uttered, after standing at the
portrait’s entrance and looking at me. I hated how expressionless and neutral
his face was – I could never tell what he was up to, what he was thinking. He
wasn’t even smirking at me – at least with a smirk I knew what he had planned,
what his mood was. He was just...looking at me. “Word, please. Outside.”

 

Suddenly, there was an uproar. It was like all of a sudden
the brave Gryffindor squad realized that Malfoy – Draco ‘Ferret Face’ Malfoy –
was in the common room. It took them all of ten minutes, I patronized mentally,
smirking, good job. Ron had jumped up and walked over to Malfoy, his eyes
flashing with hatred similar to the one that he had in his previous Malfoy
encounter just moments ago. Harry was at my side in no time – my knight in
shining armor. But I wasn’t a princess.

 

“What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?” Ron asked
angrily. He was plain furious – his reunion with me was ruined. I supposed that
was why, but it was just wishful thinking. For all I knew, Malfoy’s presence
just irritated him. That was usually it. “How’d you get in?”

 

That was something I’d have never thought to ask. It wasn’t
a big shock to me that Malfoy was in the common room. I knew he got the
password somehow and the Fat Lady had let him in – unwillingly, too, most
likely – but I was curious how he did it. I would have never asked, though. It
seemed reckless to assume that Malfoy didn’t already know the passwords to
every opening and crevice in Hogwarts.

 

Malfoy just stared at Ron for a moment, as if asking, ‘Are
you serious?’ with looklook.

 

“Please, Weasley,” Malfoy stated, his tone implying just
the ‘Are you serious’ question I’d imagined it was. He paid no more mind to Ron
for his gaze quickly found mine again. “Ten minutes, Granger.”

 

And he left.

 

And I wondered. What was his deal? He pranced into my
common room like some kind of king guy and – what? – decides that I’d follow
him God knows where and –

 

I suddenly realized that my feet were moving towards the
portrait hole.

 

“Mione, you’re going?” Harry asked, still firmly in his
knight-in-shining-armor position. His face held worry, concern and disbelief.
My brain held the same thing.

 

“Yeah, be back in a minute.” It was no big deal, I decided.
Malfoy was g Mag Malfoy and that was all there was to it. Besides, I reasoned,
there was nothing better to do here. I knew that if I stayed – even if I went
and dived under my bed, covering my ears with fourteen pillows – I’d just have
the girls after me, asking me to tell them ‘the real story’. Malfoy seemed like
a better choice.

 

Pausing, I realized how hard it must’ve been for Harry all
those years to be famous; to have people want his autograph for something he
had no control over; to have people attacking him at every street corner asking
him about something he didn’t even fully understand himself.

 

Looking at Harry, I smiled the smallest of smiles and
nodded to the portrait hole, motioning that I was going. Luckily, the crowd was
starting to thin out. I supposed my life wasn’t as front-page news when nothing
was happening and I was acting like a bitch. I made a mental note to act like
that more often to clear out swarms of people.

 

Climbing cautiously out of the Gryffindor common room, I
looked around the seemingly empty, hollow halls. I was acting like some sort of
James Bond incarnate, whisking my gaze in every which way while I looked for my
enemy. In all irony, I was really looking for my enemy, so I figured it was
okay to act like a paranoid television star.

 

He cleared his throat. I straightened from my Crouching
Tiger, Hidden Dragon position. He’d been standing by the portrait hole entrance
the entire time. I definitely did not feel like James Bond at that moment.

 

“Walk with me,” he said silkily, like we were business
partners late for a lunch meeting. I followed him, rather cautiously. I didn’t
know why I was even listening to him. He could’ve been leading me into a death
trap; for all I knew, he was.

 

I followed.

 

“Is there are reason for this bedtime stroll?”

 

I was happy I found my voice. At least with sarcasm and
humor I could block all the confusion in my life – including the ever-present
Malfoy.

 

He smirked that smirk that made me wonder what the hell was
up his sleeve this fine night. That smirk – that I act actually hoping for back
in the common room – I realized, meant at least forty different things. It
could have meant that he had actually tricked me into a death trap and I was
really heading to the Death Eaters’ headquarters; it could’ve meant that he was
just bored and he wanted to pull my strings by taunting me and catching me
off-guard when I should’ve kept up all those walls I’d built especially for
him; it could’ve meant that Professor Snape had sent him as a messenger to tell
me that I really was expelled or something and Malfoy was all too happy to do
it.

 

Granted, I knew none of those assumptions were even close
to good or happy but I rarely ever expected anything good in outcome from
Malfoy. It wasn’t wise to expect
anything less than scheming from him, I knew.

 

I raised an eyebrow at his lack of response. I hated it
when people ignored me or patronized my questions with their little looks.
Malfoy was doing just that.

&nbs
He
He motioned with a loose wave of his palm for me to follow
him up a flight of stairs. I opened my mouth to complain about his ignorance of
my requested explanation, but paused to crinkle my brows. I had no idea where
we were going. The threat of him actually taking me the Death Eaters’
headquarters was become more real with every passing second. I realized that
their hiding place was probably not in Hogwarts – under Dumbledore’s very
perceptive nose – but I wouldn’t have put it past Malfoy. I didn’t know what to
expect anyway, so I trained myself to expect the unexpected. It was a way of
life; ever since the divorce, anyway.

 

“Is this the Astronomy Tower?” Whose benefit I asked it
for, I did not know. I knew Malfoy wouldn’t answer. That bothered me but at
least there was something expected in this situation. I hated the spontaneity
of it all, but I was glad that there was at least something I could count on in
this predicament – Malfoy would not answer me or inform me of where we were. It
wasn’t a comforting expectation but it was something. It gave me a bit of
control that seemed to be decreasing with every unknown step I took after
Malfoy.

 

He seemed all too calm. I noticed that was his demeanor
nowadays. He walked like he hadn’t a care in the world. He never looked back;
never once doubted that I’d follow him. I’d bet he knew my discomfort of being
back at Hogwarts and he took advantage of it. Perhaps that was why he was so
sure of himself and perhaps that was why I was acting so lost. I nodded to
myself. If I fou val valid excuse for why I was acting like such an alien to my
friends and following my once worst enemy around, I figured I’d accept the
situation more. Acceptance didn’t come.

 

But Malfoy stopped once we reached a point that he found
suitable. I stopped behind him but did not complain at his lack of warning.
Like I’d said before – I wasn’t expecting him to inform me of anything. He was
like a drunk tour guide in the Muggle world – doing his job wearily and
uninformatively, but people still followed him like God.

 

Well, God was a bit strong – although Malfoy probably
wouldn’t object to that label.

 

I looked around at our destination. It was rusty,
unsanitary and there was one window. It was dirty, too.

 

“Swanky,” I commented. My sarcasm was thickly veiled but it
was there. I knew he’d pick up on it even though it was questionable on whether
or not he’d reply. He finally looked at me without any expression on his face.

 

I wanted to see his emotions – perhaps anger or annoyance.
Nothing. Just lfoylfoy; features as clear as his yearbook picture.

 

He pointed at the window and put his hand on the small of
my back, gently pushing me forward so that I could look out of it. I didn’t
protest. His touch wasn’t very unnecessary and didn’t feel inviting, but I
didn’t bother making a big deal out of it. At least he was being responsive,
which is what I was longing for – someone to respond to me.

 

I saw stars; big, fat ones that shone like 100-watt light
bulbs brought too close to one’s eyes. They seemed unreal, like someone had
really turned on a switch to make them shine all that much brighter. It was as
if tonight, the stars had a job – to light up the world as best as they could;
they were doing a magnificent job. It made me want to turn off all the lanterns
and torches in the castle and just enjoy the brightness – the fierce brightness
– of the bulging stars. They were definitely too bright – out of the ordinary,
without a doubt – but not repulsive.

 

“Alahara,” Malfoy murmured in the background. I noticed
that he was not standing by me. He was behind me but there was a good space
between us. I was fairly glad, because he wasn’t giving me the best impression
of himself today but my ears perked at what he said. I didn’t recognize the
name or label. He didn’t seem to recognize me standing there, but I knew he
knew.

 

He was looking at the magnificent, glowing stars himself.
His face looked peaceful, almost serene, but I didn’t buy into the expression.
Frankly, it was because I remembered that he wasn’t wearing an expression on
his face before either. That was one thing I wanted to desperately know abohim him – what did he show on his face that was real? I wanted to decipher the
little smirks from the random eyebrow perks and know what he meant by them. I
realized that I probably shouldn’t care what all those little expression meant
– most likely because they were all spiteful and used for ridiculing people –
but it caught my attention that I couldn’t read him like a book. It was like an
unexplainable obsession with me – something that I couldn’t understand or
figure out, I went after more. I didn’t particularly care for him in general,
but his mysterious way intrigued me.

 

He spoke again.

 

“It only comes twice every three years,” he explained, his
voice like a fairy tale, explaining something unknown to a multitude of people
or just no one at all; like it didn’t require an audience but suited one as
well. “The stars are amplified six-fold because of the planets’ alignment.” He
took his expressionless – or maybe serene and peaceful – eyes off the
magnificent pictures displayed out of the dirty, fairly small window looking
out of the Astronomy Tower. I decided it was the Astronomy Tower; I liked to
think that I wasn’t completely clueless as to where I was. I was probably
fooling myself.

 

He saw me raise my eyebrow at his last phrase. His voice
made me want to desperately believe anything that he uttered – had it been that
the sky was red on Thursd– bu– but I had to take notice when my mind realized
the glitch in Malfoy’s statement.

 

“The planets align more than twice every three years,” I
commented softly. The atmosphere was sort of magical – I didn’t want to raise
my voice louder than necessary. I knew he heard me; it was why he took his eyes
off the dazzling stars in the first place. He knew I’d catch that.

 

His face allowed all all – almost indistinguishable –
smile. “Very true,” he agreed, his voice remaining in the same fairy tale daze,
only his eyes now looking directly into mine. I was glad that he was looking at
me – noticing me – like I was actually there. I hated being treated like a
child and being talked at. I liked being talked to. “But this only happens when
Neptune is on the end and Pluto switches orbiting courses so that it is the
second to last planet in line. The planets are then in a straight line and
because of the balance and unusual position of the last two, Alahara happens.”
He paused, and dusted invisible lint off of his sleeve.

 

I was intrigued – this was interesting, unbelievable even.
I’d never seen the starts look this way and even through a dirty, dusty little
window they looked so inviting and miraculous.

 

“This can only be seen in the wizarding world,” he
continued evenly, answering my never voiced question of why I’d never seen the
stars look quite the way they did tonight, “and only when Neptune is on the
end. Magic is then doubled in power for the night – as long as it usually lasts
– and the stars shine with more force. Muggles have no magic,” he informed, his
voice not betraying any of the superiority I’d imagined it would have when
uttering anything about Muggles, “so they can’t see the stars look this
beautiful; and they can’t feel the doubled force in magical power.”

 

I didn’t speak. He stopped to look through our pathetic
little window out into the beauty once more. I not a s a sliver of the equally
bright moon dance among the hot drops of wax that named themselves individuals
stars. It was incredible.

 

I heard Malfoy shuffle in back of me, which caused me tear
my eyes away from the scene I wished would never leave the sky. He was
obviously looking for something in his robe’s pocket. He found it – a
cigarette. I rolled my eyes and turned them back to the bright stars, that
seemed to move in place like three-dimensional towers. I’d never found anything
so beautiful.

 

It would’ve been more beautiful had smoke not reached my
nose at that precise moment. I sighed, letting the tainted air around my nose
dissipate into other sections of the small floor in the tower.

 

“You ruined a perfectly good moment, you know.” I kept my
eyes on the stars – they seemed seductive, manipulative.

 

“I know,” he replied, not sounding offended at all. I felt
his gaze flicker to me for a brief moment before I heard more shuffling and
turned to see him dispel his nearly new cigarette.

 

I nodded my head in thanks. He raised an eyebrow; the
gesture meant that it wasn’t for me. The cigarette was probably bad. I was
grateful all the same – I hated smokers.

&;
;

“Alahara isn’t that magical here anyway,” he suddenly said,
making me turn to him slowly and pry an explanation out of him. He shrugged at
my demanding look and pulled out his wand, waving it around carelessly.
“Dumbledore enchanted the entire place agt Alt Alahara so that the force of
magic won’t double.” He was annoyed but I could tell he didn’t overly care. I
didn’t either. “Probably worried some fool like Longbottom would be able to
perform the Avada Kedavra with half the needed effort.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. That would have been interesting to
see. I wasn’t crazy about the Avada curse, but Neville would probably have less
hassle performing spells that he usually struggled with. Of course, on the
other hand, I realized, if it went wrong, it’d be twice the usual disaster. I
agreed with Dumbledore’s ban of double magic. Who knew what someone like
Neville would do with the power? Who knew what I’d do with it? Malfoy?

 

That was a scary thought. Sure, he’d taken me to go see
some amazing view from a dusty window up in a lone tower – which, now that I
said it, sounded awfully conspicuous – but he was far from forgiven in my mind
for all that he’d put me through; all that he’d put Harry and Ron through, even
Neville and the rest. These days I didn’t forgive easily and questioned
everything, which made me shudder when I thought what Malfoy would’ve done with
his power doubled in strength had he half a chance. He mentioned the Avada Kedavra
– perhaps that was the first thing that came to his mind when he thought of all
that power and pawned it off on Neville’s clumsy use of magic. I didn’t know
whether it was true but it didn’t keep me from being overly suspicious.

 

He caught on to my uneasiness.

 

“Don’t worry, Granger. I’m not upset that I don’t get to
have my magic doubled tonight,” he assured me, as if reading my mind. Now, that
had surprised me. Dumbledore knowing what I was thinking, I could take, but
Malfoy? Was I that obvious all the time? And if not, how did Malfoy know? I
wouldn’t have been surprised if Dumbledore in all actuality knew how to read
minds but I wouldn’t have expected Malfoy to read so much as a wizard’s Playboy
magazine. It caught me off guard. That could have been his goal anyway.

 

“Why?” I asked. Despite his schemes, I had to wonder why he
wasn’t whining to Snape or getting father to remove him from Hogwarts for the
night so that he could cause havoc with the rest of criminals of the wizarding
world. Why didn’t he care?

 

His eyes danced knowingly as if a single flicker of
candlelight was in front of him to cause that reflection them. His seemingly
stone-gray eyes looked like they held the secrets of the universe, all packed
into one big, mysterious smirk. I nearly rolled my own eyes. Of course that’s
how his eyes would be – that’s how all of him was: annoying and mysteriously
unreadable. I wasn’t surprised.

 

“I don’t need a boost in my magic to perform a powerful
spell,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I couldn’t
help but break into a grin. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. Oh, such a
Malfoy response it was. And it made me laugh. From a smile, to a laugh, to some
more laughing.

 

Malfoy just stared at me – I could tell. I could also tell
that he was desperately trying to contain a grin of his own. I suppose someone
of his stature was not allowed to laugh or smile genuinely. I rolled my eyes.
Couldn’t he act like a human being once in a while? Deciding that tonight would
be one of those times, I quickly composed myself and walked up to him, a grin
on my face. I placed my hands strategically on both of his shoulders and looked
him square in the eye, my grin only widening.

 

“You, my boy, are going to laugh even if I have to stand
here all night to see you do it.” I said that in a no-nonsense manner, though
my smiling demeanor betrayed my scolding tone. Draco just looked at me, amused,
and I could tell he was doing it again – suppressing a long overdue smile;
maybe even a laugh.

 

“Laugh,” I commanded, chuckling a bit myself at the
humorous situation. My hands were still on his shoulders. I didn’t think it was
a big deal. I touched Harry and Ron all the time with hugs and nudges – it
didn’t mean a damn thing. It didn’t now, either. I just wanted to see something
distinguishable from him – an expression I could read; a simple laugh.

 

“I can’t laugh on command,” Draco replied incredulously,
though I could tell he was finding this to be extremely huus aus as well, if
not ridiculous.

 

“I’m not commanding you to laugh, Draco. You already want
to do that on your own,” I explained easily, then shook my head pitifully.
“Come on. I won’t tell anyone.” I batted my eyelashes at him. “I promise.”

 

He looked at me for a brief second, something unknown
flashing in his eyes before he broke. He just cracked, a wide grin appearing on
his face out of nowhere. It was like a huge wave that belonged to a Tsunami
broke out from beneath silent, calm waters. I noted that he had a great smile –
but that was probably because I was in awe of seeing him display an emotion
other than disgust, anger, or superiority. It was good to see a different side
of him. I supposed it was that way with me – I always needed to see something I
knew was there but was never shown.

 

We laughed for a few brief moments before it finally died
down. I knew we could only laugh so much before it’d be completely forced. It
was genuine, good-hearted laughing and I knew that Draco wasn’t the only that
hadn’t laughed like that in a while – I hadn’t either. It felt good, like
letting go but not quite. I knew a laughing fit wouldn’t change my life...but
it changed my evening – and it changed his.

 

“You’re insane, Granger,” Draco finally announced, the
chuckling aftertaste still in his eyes. I curtsied proudly.

 

“Why thank you, Draco,” I replied formally. “So I’ve been
told.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t help but think, now what?
I knew there was sarcasm in that eyebrow.

 

“That’s the second time you called me Draco.” I blinked. I
hadn’t even noticed. It came naturally, I supposed. I really never realized
that I knew his first name at all until it just slipped out unexpectedly – so
naturally. I’d even called him Draco in my thoughts. I shrugged.

 

“So I did.” I looked at him pointedly – at Draco. “I s
is
it’s only fair that you call me Hermione twice, now.”

 

I didn’t have an expectation after that point – that
request was up in the air. I didn’t expect him to call me Hermione – after all
I was a registered Mudblood on his scalebut but that could have been overlooked
for tonight. The air between us was different, probably in honor of Ahara and
the lack of doubled magic that we should be having but didn’t really miss. It
was like a celebration for everyone, and we held it. I could honestly say that
it was nice; very nice.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, not to my ultimate surprise, “Hermione.”
He tested it out on his tongue, getting used to the strange feeling of calling
me – one of his nemeses – by my first name. It seemed natural coming from his
mouth, too, but we both knew it was strange.

 

I nodded, then looked around the small floor around us in
the tower. There were steps leading higher above us and lower beneath us. We
were still pretty high up, I guessed, but I didn’t mind not being on the top
floor. The stars were just as beautiful here. The only place I’d imagined them
to be anymore beautiful would be at the source of stargazing – outside. That
made me wonder.

 

“Why did you bring me up here?” I asked, not sure if I
should let on that I knew it was the Astronomy Tower – because for all I knew
I’d be wrong.

 

Draco looked at me with an incredulous look. I was glad I
could read the look before I heard his voice – I was gaining some of that
control I felt I was losing and I was learning to read him. It was, for some
reason, important to me. Perhaps because he was a challenge.

 

“To look at the stars – Alahara,” he replied, looking at me
as if I suddenly was daft. I understood his incredulity now. I shook my head to
explain myself.

 

“I mean to the tower – here.”

 

“Where else would we go?” he asked, pointing to the same
dusty window we’d spent the majority of our time together looking out of.
“Great view. Nowhere better.”

 

A silence passed. I thought it better not to speak and let
‘the moment’ remain uninterrupted. Then, I spoke.

 

“Outside?” I suggested. Draco seemed to already have
thought of that as he shook his head, denying my suggestion and pointing to his
bare wrist.

 

“Not allowed,” he explained. I was surprised at his Muggle
watch reference but he seemed not have even noticed. I didn’t g itg it up;
after all, I wasn’t that surprised. “Speaking of which, we should be off. I
imagine you’re late for your interrogation and I have some business of my own
to attend to.”

 

I smirked at the ‘interrogation’ bit, then frowned as a
question that’d been plaguing me the entire time surfaced in my mind. I called
out to Draco before he could get a chance to descend down the stairs.

 

“Yeah?” he answered, turning back and meeting my eyes.

 

“Why’d you take me here and not someone else?” I asked. I
needed to know – it didn’t so much trouble me as strike me unbelievable. We
weren’t exactly buddies, now. I looked at his changing expression. His
hospitable expression from when he answered, ‘Yeah?’ had changed to an
all-knowing one that of a God. I smirked inwardly; I figured he’d think himself
to be some sort of undefeatable lord.

 

“Couldn’t very well have thrown you to the dogs, now could
I’ve?”

 

And he descended down the stairs without a glance back. I
had to hand it to him – he was master of dramatic exits. His entrances were
also not bad, not his exits were really his nitch. If there was a career in
exits, he’d go far in it.

 

I laughed. I knew that the aforementioned ‘dogs’ were my
dorm-mates and I couldn’t have thought of a better adjective. I was actually
very neutral about the comment and just thought it was funny. I didn’t
completely agree with Draco on the ‘dogs’ bit because he had no right to insult
people that were still very much my friends and had done nothing to him
tonight. Of course, I also didn’t disagree with his comment. I was very much
irritated with my alleged pals at their shallow-minded questioning and
suffocating. It all balanced out; my opinion remained neutral.

 

And I located the irony quickly. The neutral opinion was of
Draco’s comment, who was master of the neutral expressions. It all fit. For
once, it all made sense.

 

This crazy year was unbalanced, out of sync and nothing was
right. Today wasn’t even right. But now – sitting on the stair railing looking
out the window once more at the burning stars – it all made sense. I guess that
was the doubled force of power that managed to seep into the magically guarded
walls of Hogwarts because tonight – everything clicked.

 

 

.• .• .•
.• .• .• .• .•
.• .• .•

 

<b>Author’s Note:</b>

 

Right, this is the ‘new and improved’
version on this chapter because I realized a big mistake with it and then
ffjunkie realized it too (about Alahara and Ahara) and that was completely my
*brilliant* ignorance at work, here. Sorry – it’s fixed. Author’s notes to you
all in the next chapter. Stay tuned – won’t be long.

 
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