"So, let me get this straight..." Malfoy drawled, his silver gaze fixed on me sceptically. "Sirius Black is innocent and Peter Pettigrew is alive?"
"Mh," I hummed, tossing Asherah's purple hair into the bubbling cauldron before me.
Finally, I decided to divulge the truth to Malfoy.
It was high time he knew about Sirius, Remus being my godfather and the story behind the small scar on my nose.
The truth had to come out, not just for Sirius's sake, but to start setting things right in the Wizarding World.
I mean, Malfoy has great connections, he could easily spread the word.
A silence followed, Malfoy's scepticism palpable.
I looked up at him, finding him staring at me with his head cocked as he sat against the wall, arms crossed.
"You don't believe me, do you?" I wondered out loud.
"The Black family isn't exactly known for its sterling reputation, Potter. Sirius being a mass murderer, wouldn't be that much of a stretch." He reasoned.
"Look, Peter Pettigrew is very much alive and he admitted it, meaning, Sirius didn't betray my parents." I countered.
"He would never..." I added absentmindedly.
Malfoy's expression remained unchanged. "Still strikes me as rather odd."
I sighed. "Everything involving my parents and Voldemort is apparently bound to be odd."
"We don't say his name, Potter." Malfoy said, his tone taking a serious note. "At times, I wonder if you understand how dark times were."
"And whose fault is that? Whenever Harry or I try to ask anyone about what really happened, they clam up. We've been left to piece everything together on our own." I said annoyedly.
I could see the hint of realisation in Malfoy's eyes, a flicker of understanding. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
I settled down beside him against the wall, letting my knees rest partially on his thighs as I relaxed.
"Give it a few more minutes, and the potion should be ready." I said, my tone softer now.
Harry really is fortunate to have me by his side. I had a chat with Hermione this morning, and it seems they're still at a dead end in their search.
They must be batting around ideas, not unlike the ones I've come up with, but that's where the divergence between the Golden Trio and me becomes clear.
You see, I have an advantage they lack—I'm friends with Luna Lovegood.
Brewing the Characterisation Potion took me a solid two weeks, but luckily, I managed to finish it just in the nick of time.
Tomorrow morning marks the second task of the Tournament, and this potion could prove crucial.
Similar to last year, when I was brewing Wolfsbane Potions for Remus in the second-floor girls' lavatory, there were times when I had to add an ingredient and check on my brew at the most inconvenient moments but in the end, I managed.
If it happened during a random class, I had no one to keep me company but if it was during the weekends or free periods, Malfoy would keep me company, as he is doing now.
I could not rely on Lyra's company since she was often taken away by Zabini. Nonetheless, I didn't mind as we still spent time with each other, albeit a little less.
"A few minutes?" Malfoy's voice had a teasing edge as his fingers playfully slipped beneath the hem of my knee sock.
I could always count on his hands to be freezing.
I let out a tired hum as I rested my head on his shoulder, the weariness from brewing the potion seeping into my bones—I needed to add another ingredient at 5 a.m. this morning.
"Sounds like plenty of time to kiss you..." He mused, his tone casual, undoubtedly accompanied by that trademark Malfoy smirk.
I chuckled softly, lifting my head from his shoulder. "No, thank you. I'd rather not have a repeat of Moaning Myrtle's unexpected appearance. Remember a few days ago?"
Malfoy's lips curled into a grin. "Ah, yes. How could I forget?"
I pondered for a moment. "What if instead of that, we share naked truths? You start."
His response was dry and predictable. "I want to kiss you."
"Alright, let's try this again. How about sharing something less...physically oriented? Like actual facts about ourselves."
Malfoy leaned in, his smirk growing mischievous. "I'm a good kisser. Maybe I should just demonstrate."
Before anything more could unfold, the echoing voice of Moaning Myrtle cut in, her tone dripping with melancholy. "Not again!"
Malfoy's reaction was a mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "You again."
Myrtle's eyes welled with tears, her wails filling the bathroom. She was always so touchy, and it didn't take much to set her off.
"He didn't mean it like that, Myrtle." I hurriedly assured her, throwing a glance at Malfoy.
My expression urged him to follow suit and apologise to spare us the next twenty minutes of her crying.
Malfoy's scrunched nose indicated his begrudging cooperation. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry." He muttered, almost sounding sincere.
Moaning Myrtle slowly lowered her hands from her face, casting a scathing glare in Malfoy's direction.
"Save your faux sincerity for someone else!" She retorted, her tone dripping with disdain.
Hovering in the air, her gaze shifted to the cauldron and the brew within. "Polyjuice Potion, is it?" She inquired, her voice laced with curiosity.
"No, it's not. Why do you ask?"
"I was swirling around a particularly stubborn drain the other day and I could have sworn I caught a whiff of Polyjuice Potion. I thought maybe I was finally onto the one responsible for that mess."
Malfoy's incredulous voice cut in. "What on earth were you doing in a drain?"
Her wail held a hint of exasperation. "It's not like I choose to be there! Sometimes someone flushes my toilet without any warning!"
"Well, whatever floats your ghostly boat." Malfoy mumbled under his breath.
The mental image of Moaning Myrtle hurtling down a plumbing pipe was too bizarre to ignore. Yet, before I could fully wrap my head around that thought, she changed the topic. "Anyway, I'm off to watch Cedric practising his spell for tomorrow." She giggled, floating away.
My mind briefly pitied Cedric.
After a string of aimless words that barely constituted a proper conversation between Malfoy and me, the Characterisation Potion was finally ready.
No matter the specifics of the second task, I had confidence that Harry would excel with his fish-like agility, the ability to breathe underwater, and the clear vision the potion would grant him.
As I watched the potion bubble away, my thoughts inevitably wandered back to the rift between Harry and me.
It had been nearly two months since we last spoke adequately. I hoped this gesture, helping him with the task, might finally mend our relationship.
Surely, he must miss me too, right? The uncertainty gnawed at me, but hope remained.
I dashed up the seven staircases leading to the Gryffindor Common Room with haste, my breath ragged.
I nearly stumbled on my way as one of the steps seemed to shift just as I was about to set foot on it.
This castle had a mind of its own, I swear.
As I found myself in the Gryffindor Tower, I was met with a wave of disapproving glances from the Gryffindors.
Ever since Rita Skeeter's article about Malfoy and me, the Red House had collectively turned their backs on me, except for Hermione, Neville, and the Weasley twins.
Still breathless, I approached the Fat Lady, clutching the potion flask tightly.
She gave me a mocking laugh. "How many times do I have to say it, Amelia Potter? No Slytherins allowed."
I forced my voice to remain calm. "I just need you to call someone for me, please."
She sighed dramatically. "Oh well, who?"
I knew Harry wouldn't come if he knew I was the one calling him, so I decided to go through a different channel this time. "George. Or Fred. Either is fine."
The Fat Lady begrudgingly called for the twins, and soon enough, the portrait swung open to reveal them.
"You called me." They said.
"I need you two to fetch Harry for me but don't mention it's me." I requested, urgency lacing my words.
"Of course, love." They replied in their signature unison before disappearing back into their Common Room, the Fat Lady coming back into view.
"What do you think of my new mirror?" She asked, proudly displaying a hand mirror.
"Very pretty." I replied with a dry tone.
The portrait swung open once more, revealing Harry.
I managed a small smile at the sight of him, but his expression hardened as soon as he saw me.
"Get lost." He sneered, moving to close the portrait.
I acted quickly, trying to keep the opening from closing. "Harry, please listen. I've found a way for you to breathe underwater."
"I don't want your help. Go away."
The portrait wavered between being closed and open, shaken by the struggle between Harry and me.
"Don't be childish. You have nothing." I reasoned.
My words seemed to further agitate him. He abruptly stopped pulling on the portrait. "It's a Chara—"
He cut me off with a harsh tone. "I said, GO. AWAY." He shoved me back and forcefully closed the portrait.
"HARRY! DON'T BE SO STUBBORN AND TAKE THE DAMN POTION! YOU'VE GOT NOTHING FOR TOMORROW!" I shouted in frustration, not caring that my voice echoed through the entire Gryffindor Tower.
The Fat Lady began to scream as I pounded on her portrait, my desperation clear.
Harry's stubbornness was infuriating, one of his most challenging traits.
Just as I was about to give up, the portrait swung open once again, revealing Hermione.
"Oh, Hermione, I'm so glad you're here." I greeted her with relief. "I have something that will let Harry breathe underwater, but he won't listen to me." I handed her the flask containing the potion.
"I overheard that. The entire Common Room did." Hermione said as she examined the flask. "Is this a Characterisation Potion?"
"Yes, it is."
Hermione's brows furrowed as she inspected the flask. "What's it characterising? What's in it?"
"A mermaid."
Her eyes widened, and she looked at me incredulously. "How did you manage that? Can you summon mermaids? That's an incredible gift."
"It wasn't me. Luna Lovegood, a third-year Ravenclaw, helped me. She has an unusual connection with magical creatures."
Hermione's gaze darted between me and the potion, her expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Can you please give it to Harry?" I implored, desperation evident in my voice.
"I'll try." Hermione replied apologetically. "You know how stubborn he can be sometimes."
I let out a frustrated huff. "Believe me, I know."
Returning to the Slytherin Common Room, I let out an exasperated sigh, brushing off my friends' questions as I made a beeline for my dormitory.
Flopping down on my bed, I relished the tranquillity that enveloped me—until a knock at the door shattered it.
Groaning, I dragged myself up and opened the door. It was the Head Girl, her expression serious.
"You're needed in Professor McGonagall's office."
"I'll go right away." I muttered, bracing myself for whatever awaited me.
Minutes later, I stood outside Professor McGonagall's office, my heart pounding in my chest. Why would she want to see me? What had I done this time?
"Good evening, Miss Potter." Professor McGonagall said, opening the door and inviting me in.
A chill ran down my spine as I noticed Professor Snape also present in the room. This didn't bode well. Had I pushed things too far with the Fat Lady? Perhaps I shouldn't have banged on her portrait.
Before I could even settle in, I blurted out defensively. "I haven't done anything."
Professor Snape's eyebrow quirked. "A first, I assume."
I shot him a glare, my nerves on edge. "So, why am I here?" I inquired, trying to mask my anxiety.
"Please, have a seat, Miss Potter." Professor McGonagall instructed, motioning towards a chair.
I sat down, my eyes flickering between the two professors.
Professor McGonagall reached for her wand and, without a word of explanation, cast a spell.
In an instant, everything went black.