Peppermint

haematic

I will always land on you like a sucker punch 

"Rise and shine!"

"What the—"

"Good morning, Fred and George," I boomed, tossing their curtains open. "Isn't it a lovely morning?"

George let out a groan. "Pepper, it's still fucking dark outside. Why the fuck would you wake us up at"—he looked at the clock—"four in the morning?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said innocently. "Are you... grouchy?"

"OH FUCK OFF—"

"Are you not happy to see me?" I asked, a malicious grin spreading across my face. "Because when you two woke me up—"

Fred groaned. "Bloody hell, Pepper, we get it—"

"—you told me that you would be thrilled to see me," I continued. "And you two don't look very thrilled, if you ask me."

"Are you kidding me—?"

"We were wrong—"

"Oh, I didn't hear that," I said in a snotty tone. "You were what?"

"You have got to be—"

"You were what?"

"We were wrong," George said through gritted teeth. "We are not very happy to see you right now?"

"And why is that?"

"Because we're tired."

"Which means that—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Fred groaned, throwing off his covers. "That's enough."

"—I was right and you were wrong—"

"Out, out, out," Fred said, spinning me around and nudging me through the door. "We'll see you in two to three business hours."

"But it's time to wake up—!"

"No, it's not!"

"Yes—"

"Another word and I'll spill the beans about your super-secret relationship," he threatened.

I gave him a disbelieving look. "You wouldn't. If you were going to tell people, you would have blabbed by now."

"You're right, ickle one," he yawned. "I wouldn't."

"I know."

He paused. "Are you nervous? To tell them, I mean?"

I nodded, fiddling with the edge of my shirt. "Slightly."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm really nervous," I sighed. "But I have to do it. I don't want to have to lie anymore."

"It's going to be fine," he said soothingly. "Everything's going to be fine."

I took a deep breath. "I'm just a little nervous. I still have some time anyway. I just need to... relax."

Fred nodded. "Think about the match. Just think about throwing the Quaffle at Warrington. Happy thoughts."

"Happy thoughts," I repeated. "Happy thoughts."

Fred smiled. "There you go. Now go away—I'm tired."

"Going away," I said, as I stepped out of the door.

"Oh, and Pepper?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to bed, it's four in the fucking morning. Nobody should be awake right now."

"Nobody should be awake, huh?"

"Shut up, smartass."

"I'm going to tell them today," I told Draco later that morning in an empty classroom after I had sent him one of our signals during breakfast.

"Today?" he asked, laying his head on my lap.

"Today."

Draco nodded. "Okay. When?"

"After the match," I said, stroking his hair absentmindedly. "I think it's time."

"You think it's time?" Draco asked. "Are you sure?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Like are you sure? You don't feel pressured to? I know Weasley's your friend, and I don't know what he told you, but you don't have to tell anyone if you're not ready yet."

"I'm ready to tell everyone everything," I said. "I really am. Fred's reaction made me realize that it's time. Sure, they might be mad, but it's time. They should be happy for me, right?"

He nodded. "They should be. They will be."

Both of us knew that the likelihood of everyone being as understanding as Fred was slim to none. With Ron's opinions, Harry's temper, and Hermione's stubbornness, it was very unlikely.

But it was going to be fine. It had to be fine.

He pressed a kiss to my cheek. "It's going to be okay, Peppermint."

I smiled at the nickname. "Let's not talk about it anymore. I just want to enjoy what will probably be our last peaceful moment."

"Excited for the match today?" he asked, lacing his fingers with mine.

"Yup," I said with a grin. "Excited to lose?"

He snickered. "Very funny, Pepper. I'll have you know that Warrington's been making us train insane hours for this match."

"Scrimmage," I corrected. "And I think you'll be surprised with what we've pulled together."

"I haven't even seen you lot at the pitch once," he said. "Where have you been practicing?"

"Sorry," I said. "Top-secret."

He groaned. "Tell me!"

I wanted to tell him—I did. But I knew I couldn't tell him about the Room of Requirement without revealing the D.A. to him, which is something I couldn't do thanks to the bewitched parchment I signed. Hermione had proudly told Harry, Ron, and I that it was jinxed against all snitches, and that it would take into effect if we told any teacher, and her least favorite people—Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

I trusted Draco not to tell Umbridge about the D.A. He may not care about the others, but he cared about me, which meant he'd keep his mouth shut. But because of the bloody piece of paper, I couldn't tell him, and I was forced into silence. I knew that when I did tell him, however, he'd understand.

"Nope."

"Fine," he moped. "How about a kiss instead?"

I tapped my finger against my chin. "I don't know about that."

"Come on," he said, puckering his lips in a comical way. "Just one."

"Maybe..."

"A small one."

"What will you give me in return?" I asked cheekily, standing up and walking away from him. "Money? Jewelry? Books?"

"Whatever you want," he said, scrambling to follow me. "I'll get you whatever the hell you want."

"I like the sound of that," I said, ducking under his outstretched arms and walking to the corner of the tower. "But I think I'll have to think about what I want first."

"What about layaway?" he asked, following me again. "Buy now, pay later?"

I snorted. "How do you know about layaway?"

"My girlfriend is from a Muggle family," he said matter-of-factly. "I've got to stock up on my knowledge before I go meet her father."

I grinned. "You want to meet my father?"

"Of course I do," he said instantly. "I want to meet the man who created this dumb girl."

I rolled my eyes. "How romantic."

He shoved me playfully. "I'm just kidding, Pep. I want to meet the man and ask him for some parenting advice, because clearly he did something right."

"Parenting advice?" I asked. "Are you planning to become a teenage father?"

"Smartass," he muttered. "I'm going to be a parent someday. Aren't you?"

"Perhaps," I said. "I think it would be fun."

"I've always wanted to be a father," he said. "My dad always made it sound like I had to have kids to produce an heir, but I've always wanted to do it because I want children."

"You want children?" I asked, slightly flabbergasted.

"I know I seem the person to throw them off cliffs or whatever, but I actually really want children."

"And what would you name said children?" I asked curiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

I bit back a smile. "Well, I don't want my kids to have weird names if we get married."

He grinned and turned away, his cheeks an unusual shade of red. "I don't have names picked out yet, but I promise they won't be weird."

I sighed. "I don't know. You Malfoys seem to pick out some real winners."

He rolled his eyes. "It's a tradition of my mother's family to be named after stars and shit. In fact, my mother told me she would very much like my first son to be named Scorpius."

I gagged. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Scorpius Hyperion, to be exact."

"There is no fucking way that I'd ever name my kid Scorpius. That's literally asking the poor kid to get bullied," I remarked.

"You don't like it?"

"Don't tell me you like it," I groaned.

"I hate it," he laughed. "I was always too polite to say so, though."

I grinned. "So it looks like we're on the same page."

"Looks like it."

"You can meet my dad during Easter break," I said. "If you want."

"I'd love to," he smiled. "Oh, one thing, though."

"What?"

"Can I get my kiss now?"

∆ ∆ ∆

"Ron, get your head out of the rubbish bin!"

"I can't—"

"You're not going to puke—

"You've been saying that for the past thirty minutes," Ginny groaned, slapping her brother across the head. "Get yourself together, for fuck's sake."

"Ginny's right," I said, giving him his broom. "We've got Slytherins to beat."

"More like we've got Malfoy to beat," he muttered. "If he starts singing that song, I swear to Merlin, I'll rip him to shreds."

"What Ron means," Hermione said loudly, "is that if he starts singing that song, he'll use his anger to win the scrimmage."

"That's the spirit," Harry said, slapping Ron's back. "Everyone ready to go?"

After a collective murmur of agreement, we began sneaking out using the Invisibility Cloak. Harry and I were the last to go.

"Nervous?" he asked quietly.

"Not really," I said truthfully. "Although, I do want to ask you something."

"What?"

"Can you guys come to my room after the match?" I whispered.

"Yeah, sure. Is there any reason why?"

"No," I lied, not wanting him to worry. "I just want to chat."

"You are awfully chatty after games," he laughed. "Especially ones where Malfoy's involved."

I didn't reply to that.

By the time we arrived, everyone was ready to go. Hermione traveled to the stands, where she'd watch. A random Hufflepuff boy stood in the middle of the field in neon orange pajama pants, looking rather annoyed to be at the pitch this late at night.

"Who's that?" I asked, nodding towards the raven-haired boy.

Fred shrugged. "The referee. George and I forced him to do it."

"Fred!"

"Forced is a strong word. He's getting paid," George cut in. "It's fine."

I groaned. "The poor kid. He looks like he's ready to pass out."

"It's not our fault he didn't take any naps," Fred scoffed. "We specifically encouraged it."

"Let's stop talking about Traffic Cone Pants and worry about our match," Katie said, readjusting her robes. "Are we ready? Please don't tell me you need a pep talk, because I didn't prepare one and I don't feel like improvising one."

"I think we're good," I interjected. "Let's just not lose. I don't want to hear Warrington's remarks for the rest of the year."

Katie nodded. "Great. Let's go."

She opened the door and we filed out of our changing room. The sky was pitch black, with bright stars glittering the darkness like sprinkles on a cookie. From across the field, I could barely make out the dark green of the Slytherin uniform, having to squint my eyes to really make them out.

"It's dark," Ron shuddered. "What if I don't see the Quaffle?"

"The Quaffle's bright red, Ron," I reminded him. "You'd have to be blind not to see it."

"But—"

"Harry's practically blind and he still manages to catch the Snitch," I said.

"Hey—!"

"You will be fine. Now let's go."

"Look who finally showed!" Warrington boomed once we were within a few feet of each other. True to his word, he had replaced Adrian and Christopher, choosing two bulky seventh years I didn't know. "I thought you were going to bail."

"Just because you're all cowards doesn't mean we are," I snapped.

He let out a laugh. "You've got quite the mouth, there. If you weren't a Mudblood, I reckon I'd—"

"You'd what?" George said menacingly. "Finish that, Warrington. I dare you."

Warrington snorted. "You're all talk and no show, Weasley."

"I think we'll let the match decide that," he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "We're ready if you are."

"Of course we're ready," Warrington scoffed. "Is the referee ready?"

"Ready," the kid yawned. "And my name's—"

"Don't care," Warrington snapped. "Let's start."

The kid sighed. "Mount your brooms."

As I swung a leg over, I snuck a peek at Draco, who sent me a small smile. Returning it, I took a breath and readied myself.

"On my whistle," the boy droned. "One..."

I noticed Harry and Ron giving Draco dirty glares, their eyes narrowing as they prepared to take off.

"Two..."

Hermione grinned at Ron and gave him a shy wave before looking at Draco with a face of extreme distaste.

"Three..."

Fred gave me a sympathetic look as he gripped his bat.

"Go!"

Soaring into the air, I snatched the Quaffle and headed towards the hoops, ignoring the string of curses Warrington was emitting because he had failed to catch the Quaffle. I grinned as I sped towards the nervous-looking Keeper, thrilled that everything was going in our favor so far. Remembering what Katie had told us during practice, I wound my arm back and threw the Quaffle at the goalpost with all the strength I had.

And flashed Warrington a vulgar gesture when it went in.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," the boy announced shortly. "Ten-nil."

"Get it together!" Warrington shouted, sweat pouring down his face. "Get it together right fucking now!"

"Has it ever occured to you that this is the best your team can do?" Fred asked cheekily as he spun his bat in his hands. "Just a thought, Cassy."

Warrington, who did not like being called Cassy, said nothing as he grabbed the Quaffle and flew off in the direction of a very nervous Ron.

Warrington didn't make it far, though. Ginny quickly yanked the ball from his hands and was flying in the opposite direction in a matter of seconds. Warrington groaned and turned around, yelling at the two new Chasers.

"Are you two incompetent or something?" he hissed. "Get the bloody ball! It's not that hard!"

"That's a bit rich coming from you," I said as I breezed past him. "Having fun?"

"Mudblood—"

"Oh, sorry, what was that?" I asked. "I couldn't hear you over your incompetence."

His nostrils flared angrily. "You little—"

I never got to hear the rest of his sentence considering Ginny scored at that time, making the score twenty-zero.

Warrington looked like he was ready to murder us. He spat something at his team and then flew off with the Quaffle, flying towards Ron with a deadly glare.

Ron, who was practically shaking, tried his best to prepare for what was sure to be a killer shot. Warrington threw the Quaffle as hard as he could, and Ron missed it by less than a centimeter, earning the Slytherins ten points.

"Ten points to Slytherin," the kid droned, looking like he'd rather be in class with Umbridge. "Twenty-ten to Gryffindor."

"Weasley is Our King!" Warrington whooped. "Thanks, Weasley!"

Ron, who was bright red now, hung his head.

"Ronald Weasley, you stop that!" Hermione shrieked from the sidelines. "Pull yourself together!"

Harry and I exchanged amused looks as she yelled words of encouragement to Ron.

The Snitch was nowhere to be seen. Both Harry and Draco were sitting to the sides, their eyes scanning the star-filled sky for a shimmer of gold.

"Pepper!"

I snapped out of my haze and barely had time to catch the Quaffle from Katie. I soared towards the hoops, winding my arm back to throw again when Warrington grabbed the ball and pushed me, sending me spinning in circles.

"Nice try, Mudblood!"

I didn't respond, instead choosing to focus on not throwing up on the poor referee, who seemed to get sleepier by the minute.

Warrington passed the ball to one of the new Chasers, who I had to admit was fairly good. He chucked the ball at Ron who managed to kick it right into Ginny's hands.

Every single Gryffindor let out a shriek of joy for Ron, who looked very pleased with himself. Hermione was beside herself, jumping up and down in the stands.

"Way to go, Ron!" Harry yelled, flying past his friend. "You were amazing!"

"Looks like Weasley's our king!" Fred yelled at Warrington, who was speaking vividly to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Fuck off, Weasley."

Ginny tossed the Quaffle to Katie, who managed to score us another ten points. Fuming, Warrington grabbed the Quaffle and tossed it to one of the new Chasers, who threw it towards Ron. Luckily, Katie grabbed it before it went in, and she headed towards the other goal again, her arm outstretched.

At that moment, two things happened.

Firstly, Harry saw the Snitch, and he and Draco were flying after it, their hands outstretched.

Secondly, Katie was being cornered by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Pepper!" she shouted. "Catch!"

I outstretched my arms as she threw the ball, but I didn't catch it. Instead, I fell off my broom, having been hit in the head with a Bludger.

I was out before I hit the ground.

"Pepper!"

Someone was calling me. I knew the voice—it was familiar. It was a comforting voice, the voice of someone I trusted. I was just too incoherent to place who it was. Someone was hugging me, supporting my head on their lap.

"Pepper, are you okay?"

I tried opening my eyes, but my eyelids felt so heavy. I fluttered my eyes.

"Pepper, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

I finally opened my eyes, taking in the scene before me. I was on the ground, with a face directly above mine.

Draco's.

Which meant...

I shot up, looking at the faces in front of me. Fred, George, Ginny, and Katie were staring at me with concern, confusion on all of their faces except for Fred's. The entirety of the Slytherin team had an expression that was a mix of disgust and confusion, each of them staring at me or Draco. Hermione and Ron's faces were blank, like they didn't quite know what was going on.

But Harry. Harry's mouth was wide open in shock.

"What happened?" I asked, my mouth dry. "Is everything all right?"

"You tell us," Fred said light-heartedly. "You just fell from the sky."

"Are you all right?" Draco asked. "You scared me."

I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting this to be nothing more than a dream. Not like this, I thought to myself. They weren't supposed to find out like this.

I nodded. "Fine. I'm fine."

"We won," Harry said flatly, holding up the Snitch. "But I don't think we need to talk about that right now."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "We won! Isn't that all that matters?"

Harry shook his head. "Not when Pepper's been lying to us."

I gulped. Not here. Not now. Not like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this—why did it have to be like this!

"What do you mean?" Katie asked in confusion. "Do you know something we don't?"

"I don't know how none of you see it," he said matter-of-factly, gripping the Snitch so tightly that I was surprised it didn't break. "They're dating."

"Who?" Crabbe asked dumbly.

"Them," Harry said, pointing to Draco and I. "They're dating."

Hermione let out a laugh. "What?"

"They're dating," he repeated.

Ron frowned. "Harry, what are you talking about? It's Pepper and Malfoy. They hate each other."

Harry's face was solemn. "No, they don't. Not really."

There was a silence louder than any silence I had ever heard before.

"Do you, Pepper?" Harry asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Do you hate him?"

I looked down. "No," I whispered quietly.

"All right, that's enough," Ginny said. "Slytherins, get out."

"No!" Warrington snapped. "I'm watching, Weasley—!"

"Get out!"

Huffing, Warrington and the rest of the Slytherins left, all of them shooting dirty glares at us. Once they were gone, nobody said anything for a while.

"We're going to go, too," Katie said quietly, nodding towards Ginny and the twins. "Uh—good game?"

I nodded. "I'll see you later?"

Fred nodded. "Later. You've got this, Pepper."

"Does he know?" Hermione asked sadly. "Fred?"

"He just found out yesterday," I said. "And not in the way I wanted him to."

"Yesterday?" Ron said. "How long has this been going on?"

I winced. "January."

Harry's eyes widened to the size of Galleons. "January? Pepper, it's March!"

"I'm going to go," Draco said quietly.

"Yeah, I think that's best," Harry said coldly. "Leave."

"Harry—"

"Let him go, Pepper," Harry said.

Draco nodded sadly. "Goodbye, Pepper."

He left, but not before pointing to the Slytherin changing rooms, letting me know that was where he'd be waiting for me.

"What happened?" I croaked out. "Just now?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Crabbe hit you with a Bludger just as Harry and Malfoy were fighting for the Snitch. You were falling—really fast. And uh—Malfoy saw you falling and kind of stopped for a moment."

"Stopped?"

"We weren't sure why," she whispered. "But I guess we do now."

"Hermione—"

"And he waited for a moment before flying after you," she continued, fumbling with her jumper sleeve. "He caught your head just as your body hit the ground. You were already unconscious, though."

"I remember that," I said faintly.

"And you didn't wake up at first," she said. "We were all really worried. The game had ended—Harry caught the Snitch and all. So we were all rushing to check on you, but he was already there."

I closed my eyes. "He was?"

"He was." It was Harry who spoke now. "He was holding you—almost hugging you. And his face was pale, like someone had just punched him in the stomach. And he kept saying your name, and all I could think was, I've never heard him say her name before."

"Harry."

"And then it hit me," he said, his voice cracking again. "You're dating him."

I felt a sting in the corner of my eyes. "I was going to tell you."

"When?" he asked. "You've been dating him since January! You've been lying to us for nearly three months!"

"You don't understand!" I said. "I couldn't tell you!"

"Why not?" Ron asked defensively. "We're supposed to be your best friends."

"You are—"

"Then why didn't you tell us?"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, wiping away a tear. The last time I had fully cried in front of them had been when Bruce had fallen out of Ron's car. I hated letting people see me cry, but I couldn't help it. "You hate him!"

"Of course we do!" Ron shouted. "It's Draco fucking Malfoy!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" I cried, letting the tears fall down my face. "Look, I know what he did is shitty, I know that!"

"He called both of us Mudbloods," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"Don't you think I know that, Hermione? Do you really think I chose to fall in love with him, of all people?"

There was a silence. I wasn't entirely sure why until Harry said, "You love him?"

"I do," I said sadly. "I love him. But he's different," I said earnestly. "You don't know him—the real him. He's kind and funny and sweet and he loves me too—"

"For crying out loud!" Ron exasperated, dropping his arms to his side. "Draco Malfoy doesn't love anybody but himself, Pepper!"

"Don't say that!" I snapped. "Don't say that! You don't know! Do you think this was easy? To admit to myself that I was in love with the only person I'm supposed to hate?"

"Pepper—"

"You don't know!" I said. "None of you know!"

"So tell us," Hermione said simply.

And I did. I told them everything. The touches, the tension, the banter. The gifts, the detentions, the confessions. The day in the rain and the days that followed, where we both felt a kind of love we never even knew existed.

"I spent so much time denying it all because of who he was, not realizing that he wasn't like that. He's not like that," I explained. "He's not his father. He's nothing like him. And I'm not telling you three this so you can all become best friends and frolic in fields together. I know you don't like each other, and I'm not asking you to."

"Then what are you asking?" Ron said coldly.

"Ron," Hermione hissed.

"What? I'm just asking," he defended. "She's telling us all of this for what?"

"Because I want you to support me," I said. "Just to support me."

Ron snorted. "I'll never support Malfoy, Pepper. He's just going to hurt you."

"Me!" I yelled. "I'm asking you to support me!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I just... I need some time to think."

"Hermione—"

She said nothing else as she walked away, pulling her thick coat over her shivering arms.

"I'm going too," Ron grumbled. "I can't with this."

"Ron—"

"It's Malfoy, Pepper!" he sighed. "He's going to hurt you. I know he will. It would be better if you just stopped dating him."

I looked at him sadly. "I'm not going to do that."

"Whatever," he muttered. "Harry, let's go."

Harry didn't move.

"Harry?" he repeated.

Harry looked at me. "I... I just can't believe it."

"I couldn't tell you," I insisted. "You know that."

He shook his head and followed Ron out of the pitch, leaving me alone. Once they were gone, everything inside me collapsed.

I fell to the floor, burying my head into my hands. This was exactly what I had feared from the start. I knew they didn't get along and I knew I had lied, but some part of me had still hoped that they would have understood. But how could they, when they didn't know what it was like?

I let the sob that I was holding back out. The cries tore from my chest and came out as painful wails of sorrow.

If only it could be different.

If only people weren't wired to hate.

If, if, if.

I continued crying, sobbing louder when Draco took me into his arms and held me like nothing else mattered.

∆ ∆ ∆

By morning, everyone knew.

I knew it was thanks to the Slytherins that had witnessed my downfall—literally. When I woke up in the morning, I was practically attacked by Faye, Parvati, and Lavender, who demanded to know why I hadn't told her anything.

"That's what I'm wondering," Hermione muttered as she slipped her shoes on and left for breakfast.

They didn't ask me anything else after that.

I trudged downstairs, wearing a dirty pair of sweatpants and a jumper that had belonged to my mother. Eyes followed me as I sat down on the couch, right next to Fred.

"It didn't go well, huh?"

I groaned.

"What happened?"

"Where's George?" I asked, my eyes scanning the room. "Is he mad?"

"Nah," George said, sitting down on my other side. "I already knew."

My eyes widened. "How...?"

He scoffed. "I'm not blind, Pepper. I've known since like, early February."

"How?" I repeated.

George sighed. "It's the way he looks at you. Look, you dated Pucey, and whenever he looked at you, he was smitten. But the way Pucey looked at you is nothing compared to the way Malfoy looks at you. When Malfoy sees you, it's like he's never seen another person in his life, or like he's seen something so beautiful and can't force his eyes away no matter how hard he tries."

I sighed. "Great."

"Let me guess," George groaned. "My stupid brother didn't take it well."

"Not at all," I said, my voice cracking. And I told them what had happened, and how our friendship seemed to be ruined.

"I think they just need time," Fred said. "It's a bit of an adjustment."

"This is awful," I muttered. "Everybody knows now."

"I'm sure that's not true," George said lightly. "Now let's go to breakfast. You'll sit with us, and it won't be entirely obvious that you're in a fight."

I gave in, following the two out of the common room. But not even a minute passed before a flock of Ravenclaw boys asked me if it was true that I had been secretly shagging Draco Malfoy.

"Go away," George said, shoving them. "Go read or something, little shits."

"Oh for the love of God," I sighed. "I haven't even—"

"It's fine," Fred insisted. "You know that Ravenclaws are nosey. I bet nobody else will say anything."

As usual, he was wrong.