𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 44 - Black Theatrics

"Broom surfing, Bel?" Draco asked, breaking the quietness. Betelgeuse saw him smirk, then he became serious again. "That was truly impressive."

Betelgeuse nodded, "Thank you, cousin. I heard you attempted to undermine Potter's Quidditch performance by posing as a Dementor. Your ventured sabotage cost your House 50 points; I hope you learnt your lesson, Draco." She finished with a severe tone.

Draco looked at his cousin in dismay; her bottomless grey eyes reflected the light of millions of stars in the night sky. "I did, Bel."

Betelgeuse hummed. In the nocturne of the ink-black, the stars where a choir; she could hear their songs in eternal patterns. "Sometimes, Draco, eyes demand music, and the darker the night, the sweeter the song."

Draco furrowed his fair brows, "Must you speak in riddles?"

Betelgeuse smiled one last time at the sky. She got up at last, "Let us go back to our Common Rooms. I do not want you to get caught."

"Can't we stay for a little longer?" Draco asked quietly, grabbing her hand.

Betelgeuse sat again, shuffling closer to her cousin and pulling him into an embrace. "As long as you desire, Draco."

☆☆☆

That Saturday, Betelgeuse followed Fred and George down to the Entrance Hall. They visited Zonko's, which was so packed with students Betelgeuse found herself desiring a quieter set. She planted a small kiss on Fred's cheek, elbowed a grinning George and nimbly exited the joke shop.

The day was fine and breezy, and Betelgeuse walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden.

While admiring the hauntingly desolate shed, she heard approaching voices "Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it," a voice she recognised informed. "I asked Nearly Headless Nick— he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred, George and Bel tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut—"

Betelgeuse turned around, looking at Ron Weasley; she tilted her head to the side in curiosity. It looked like the boy was talking to himself. She was about to correct the red-headed boy when she saw someone climbing toward the shed from the other side of the hill. Moments later, Draco had appeared, followed closely by his two goons. Her cousin was speaking. "— should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm— about how I couldn't use it for three months —" Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself— 'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest —' That Hippogriff's as good as dead —"

Betelgeuse sowled; her cousin was indeed an ill-mannered brat.

The boy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent grin. "What are you doing, Weasley?" Draco looked up at the crumbling hut behind Ron. "Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?"

Betelgeuse was fuming; she was ready to knock some sense in her cousin when a strange occurrence caught her eyes. The back of Ron's robes was pulled backwards by an invisible force.

Peculiar.

Betelgeuse decided to not interfere. She was too curious to let her presence known and lose her opportunity to learn something new.