The Darkwood Wand

Revelry, Part One

It was the same in every room—a gasp as someone sighted Draco, then hushed silence. Even the jazz music would pause. Then like wind in the grasses the murmuring would begin. Draco moved from room to room, sending ripples through the revelers. He drained his glass and poured yet another. At this rate, he'd be entirely pissed before he even found Tennant. Draco had no doubt his crafty roommate was here.

"That's your third glass," said a voice behind him.

Draco turned to see a short, weedy boy who looked too young to be there. The Ravenclaw wore glasses and held a quill and parchment.

"That firewhiskey is 46% alcohol, Mr. Malfoy." The boy pointed at Draco's drink with his quill. "A single glass holds 10.5 ounces, so I'd calculate that two glasses would be sufficient for appropriate intoxication." He looked Draco up and down, eyes sharp behind thick lenses. "You're about twelve stone, right?"

Draco glared down at the boy, then took a large gulp.

"Oh yes, the ice does dilute the alcohol," the boy said, as if Draco had spoken. "But you appear to be overfilling your glass."

"Can't imagine why," Draco said drily.

"This is certainly an event of note." The boy said, scribbling on his parchment. "The last Slytherin in the Tower was—"

"The Bloody Baron, I know. Sorry, I didn't bring my chains tonight."

"Chains? Did you kill your beloved, then, like he did, Mr. Malfoy?" asked a girl, stepping up with her own parchment. "I must say, I'm surprised to hear it. The word in the halls is—"

"I did not kill my beloved," Draco snapped.

"Oh?" The girl looked around. "Is she here tonight?"

"She ... she ... I do not have a beloved!" Draco finished the whiskey, trying to ignore the two Ravenclaws' calculating gaze.

"Well, I, for one, am not surprised," the girl said with a sniff and took the boy away.

Draco noticed his hand drifting up to his head, and snapped it down again. Tennant was here somewhere, unless Draco really was the first Slytherin to darken the eagles' tower in nine hundred years. Meanwhile, the twenty-plus ounces of firewhiskey Draco had apparently consumed was simmering in his veins and he moved on in search of food.

Each library room specialized in a different subject, and Draco passed from Arithmancy to Divination, where he discovered a plate of cheese and crackers and watched a presentation on "Prophetic Cheeses Through History."

"Mr. Malfoy!" A trio of Ravenclaw girls greeted Draco as he entered yet another room. The House laboratory that Isobel had mentioned was in full display here, with instruments and experiments lining the wall opposite the stained-glass windows. Intrigued, Draco edged closer to a bubbling beaker wrapped in a snarl of copper tubing.

"We're analyzing the magic levels of the Great Lake's water," one of the girls said. "Ravenclaws have taken a sample every year since 1843, but advances in technique now allow us to..."

She trailed off as Draco stepped toward another table, which held an Astrarium clock much like Granger's, but less intricate. This clock only held the moon and sun, a few simple gears and no dials. His outstretched hand hit a stiff, invisible ward. It was nice to see that Ravenclaws had some common sense, for frankly he'd seen little evidence of it in his dealings with either Lovegood or Isobel.

"Do you like timepieces, Mr. Malfoy?" another girl asked. "There's an astrolabe at the far end."

But Draco's attention was now caught by a large bell jar on the next table. The jar must have been fastened with a sticking charm, for the three muffins inside were doing their best to tip the jar over. He moved closer—no, he was wrong, they weren't aiming for the glass, they were slamming into each other mercilessly. One muffin was torn nearly in half, its blueberries spilling out and ricocheting wildly.