The Broombox Spire

Chapter 1: Post-Potions

High inside the abandoned Broombox Spire, at the cusp of shadow and light, Tenebrus Crayor fidgeted anxiously, shifting weight between his feet and fiddling with the sleeves of his school robe.

The Broombox Spire was tucked away at the far edge of Hogwarts castle, overshadowed by the Gryffindor Tower. Before owlpost became the standard, the spire hosted the port for deliveries made by postmen on brooms large enough to carry trunks of parcels. Nothing more than a twisting staircase leading to a small empty space with an open-aired loading dock, the spire was never repurposed. Even the heavy double doors at the base of the spire were never repaired: remaining rusted and dented, and only opening halfway before jamming.

The ruminations of a spring rainstorm lingered in the air, mixing with the crispness of evening and settling a chill over Tenebrus. Reaching deep into his blue-lined robe, he pulled out his wand: composed of hawthorn wood, 9-3/4 inches in length, beholding a dragonheart core, and adorning celtic knotted bulbs over the handle. Facing the wall opposite the dock, Tenebrus waved his wand and uttered a spell, lighting a pair of large sconces. Within moments, the room warmed comfortably, and he sheathed his wand.

Tenebrus' class, Impractical Charms & Their Practical Uses, ended not ten minutes ago. Uncharacteristic of the symbolic blue and silver colors he wore underneath his robe, Tenebrus had eagerly sat in the back of his favorite class. He slipped out of the classroom within seconds of Professor Flitwick's dismissal, being the first in the corridors and disappearing into the Broombox Spire before anyone was around to spot him.

While no one saw him, there was one person in the school that knew exactly where Tenebrus was.

Potions is held in the dungeons, Tenebrus calculated. Given that the halls will be clogged with students and the average time it takes for them to disperse following the last class of Friday, the time it would take for someone to find an opportunity to slip into this stairwell would take approximately—

Two flights of stairs below Tenebrus, the scraping of a metal door opening and closing reverberated along the walls, followed by the slow ascension of steps.

A rush of anticipation and eagerness flowed from Tenebrus' chest and into his toes.

The white-blonde head of Draco Malfoy emerged from the wall's curve. Perfectly groomed, every strand of his hair was styled with precision. The stark contrast of his porcelain skin against his black robe gave focus to his sharp cheekbones and pointed chin. Though his robe was clasped closed at the neck, the brilliant emerald colors of his tie sparkled when Draco moved into a strand of sunlight.

Draco and Tenebrus locked eyes, and Draco's cold scowl twisted into a warm smile. When he spoke, his expression grew broad, revealing his flawless white teeth, "Crayor."

Tenebrus' face filled with heat, "Malfoy."

Draco continued to climb the stairs, stopping when only a single step from the top and within arm's reach of Tenebrus.

"Were you able to get in here without any problems?" Tenebrus asked for conversation's sake.

Draco nodded, "I've gotten rather skilled at slipping around this castle unnoticed." For a brief moment, Draco's eyes defocused and emptied. When he shook his head sharply, he returned to the present. "This place is— well," Draco continued, "in the six years I've been at this gauntlet of a school, I never knew this tower existed. It's rather unassuming."

"I'd qualify that choice of words as the perfect description," Tenebrus agreed. "It's too small to be of use for anything. In fact, during my—"

"—no use for anything?" Draco interrupted, leaping up the last step. Reaching at Tenebrus' collar, he yanked his tie out of his vest and pulled Tenebrus so close they could feel each other's heat radiating from the other's cheeks. "I beg to differ." Draco leaned in and pressed his lips against Tenebrus'.