Magic? || Years 1-5

Hagrid's Visit: Year 3

The two boys looked at each other, both looking very uncomfortable. She fought the urge to smirk.

"Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She's got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an' you two not talkin' to her -- " Hagrid began.

He was right.

Amisty had spent a good deal of her time after the break in calming Hermione down. She was verging on hysterical by the amount of concern she had for her friend.

"If she'd just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again! But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it!" Ron interjected eyes narrowed.

"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," Hagrid replied. Just as to emphasize his point, Buckbeak spat out a few ferret bones.

Amisty gagged, pinching her nose and excusing herself from the meeting after giving the two boys a knowing look and hugging Hagrid goodbye.

Besides, the topic had switched over to Gryffindor's chances of winning the House Cup.

As much as Amisty wished for that to happen, Quidditch wasn't quite her forte. She loved watching it, she loved hearing Harry's passion for it, but she could never put in as much interest as most everyone else had in it. The sport just didn't click with her.

"I'm trusting you to go straight up to the castle, alright?" Hagrid ordered, his voice deadly serious.

"You can watch me out the window, no detours, promise," Amisty nodded, grinning slightly as she threw her cloak over her shoulder once more and out the door.

Fang, frustrated with his lack of attention, rammed his head into the back of her knee.

Laughing and steadying herself before she fell flat on her face, she scratched him behind the ears lovingly before heading up to the castle.

The doors swung open for her easily, and she set to wandering around the castle for no good reason. Hermione had requested she be left alone for today. She had done it respectfully, of course, saying she really needed to catch up on all her homework and schoolwork.

Amisty had a feeling it was because she was tired of the angry looks Ron kept shooting them whenever Amisty would talk to her.

As she turned a corner, she felt his presence more than heard him.

"I don't want to speak with you, Malfoy," She snarled lowly, good mood disappearing and replaced with the bitter anger she had felt at the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

"Amisty, we both know that our conversations are inevitable," He spun her around, smirking per usual.

"Oh, you see this?" She widened her eyes with faux shock, holding up her wrist. "Your bracelets glowing. I wonder why?"

He scowled, not amused with her sarcasm, "What was all that about at the Quidditch match?"

"What was what? Your completely idiotic decision to dress up as a dementor just to scare Harry?" She snapped, glaring at him.

"You know, most of the Slytherins thought it was quite funny," He replied cooly, eyebrows raised.

"Ah, yes. I, for one, think breaking down into tears as soon as one of those horrid things is close by is just hilarious," She growled.

Malfoy blinked, confused, "What?"

"You know, nevermind," Amisty replied hurriedly, not realizing her mistake until it was too late.

"No, no. Tell me," He demanded, grabbing her wrist tightly.

She couldn't escape if she tried.

"It's none of your business," She protested angrily.

Even though she knew there was no point it wasn't going to keep her from wiggling.

"I know it's not, but I would still like to know," He replied casually, completely immune to her sass.

She looked up at him, annoyed. His face said it all. They were both stubborn, she would either have to find a way to get out of his hold or answer the question.

"Dementors have a different effect on me, that's all," She shrugged, attempting and failing to sound casual.

"That's all?" He asked sharply.

Her shoulders fell with a heavy sigh and she shuffled her feet.

"I don't want to talk about this now, Malfoy, I was in a good mood a few minutes ago," Amisty sighed exasperatedly.

"Only if you would just call me Draco. No one here is around to hear it, anyways," He bargained.

"Fine, Draco. I only call you Malfoy when I'm annoyed with you, and that tends to happen quite frequently," She rolled her eyes, relieved to have her wrist free of his grasp at last.

"Tell you what. I'll make it up to you," He announced boldly, smirking once more.

"By doing what?" Amisty laughed, crossing her arms and tilting her chin to look up at him. "Gracing me with your Slytheriness?"

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this Saturday. How'd you feel about going together?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Amisty froze. Her cheeks flushed, eyes widened, and she could've sworn her heart had stopped beating for a split second.

"Could you repeat that, please?" She asked, her voice a few octaves higher than usual.

"I," He used a very slow, very exaggerated voice, "Draco Malfoy, am asking you, Amisty River if you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"As... as friends, right?" She asked another question, her cheeks now resembling the color of rubies.

"Of course," Draco nodded, looking taken aback by her confirmation. "What else would it be?"

"Oh... uh, you know. I thought -- Well, I -- It's just -- eugh..." She groaned, burying her burning cheeks in her hands.

Draco laughed lightly, his hand brushing against her shoulder, "So, I'll see you on Saturday?"

"S-sure!"