Starlit Death ✹ harry potter

𝟬𝟱𝟵. only seventeen but she walks the streets so mean

   "They just need to snog already," Daphne Greengrass said one night in the Slytherin common room, after Ascella had finished recounting it all to them.

   Blaise hummed in agreement, and chimed in suggestively, "Y'know, if Granger ever wants to . . . well, embark on some revenge, I'm always free."

   Ascella snickered in mirth. "I doubt it, but I'll let her know of the offer."

   Hermione refused to sit in the common room when Ron was present, so Ascella and Harry generally joined her in the library, which meant that their conversations were held in whispers.

   "He's at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes," said Hermione, while the librarian, Madam Pince, prowled the shelves behind them. "I really couldn't care less."

   Ascella and Harry shared a look of doubt between them. She raised her quill and dotted an i so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her parchment. Harry bent a little lower over Advanced Potion-Making and continued to make notes on Everlasting Elixirs, while Ascella distracted herself with the essay from Professor Flitwick.

   "And incidentally," said Hermione, after a few moments, "you both need to be careful."

   "For the last time," said Harry, speaking in a slightly hoarse whisper after three-quarters of an hour of silence, "I am not giving back this book, I've learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in —"

   "I'm not talking about your stupid so-called Prince," said Hermione, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. "I'm talking about earlier. I went into the girls' bathroom just before I came in here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're going to get you to take them to Slughorn's party, and they all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work. And, Ascella, Ginny told me that some of the boys in the year below are determined to get you and Nott to break up . . . by any means possible."

   Ascella scrunched up her nose in disgust, while Harry asked sharply, "Why didn't you confiscate them then?"

   "They didn't have the potions with them in the bathroom," said Hermione scornfully. "They were just discussing tactics. As I doubt whether even the Half-Blood Prince" — she gave the book another nasty look — "could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once, I'd just invite someone to go with you, that'll stop all the others thinking they've still got a chance. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate."

   "There isn't anyone I want to invite," mumbled Harry, although the small glance he shot to the witch beside him he begged to differ.

   "Well," Ascella shrugged, unperturbed. "I'm taking Theo. If they can't get that through their thick heads then I don't know what will."

   "Be careful what you drink, Harry, and you who you talk to, Ascella," Hermione warned, and Ascella smiled appreciatively.

   She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she was writing her Arithmancy essay and continued to scratch away with her quill.

   "Hang on a moment," Harry said slowly. "I thought Filch had banned anything bought at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"                

   "And when has anyone ever paid attention to what Filch has banned?" asked Hermione, still concentrating on her essay.

   Ascella pursed her lips. "She's got a point."

   "But I thought all the owls were being searched. So how come these girls are able to bring love potions into school?"