“There's no Dark and Light Magic.
There's just Magic. How you use
it makes it Dark or Light.”
•
I WAS THE FIRST to awake in my dormitory next morning. I lay for a moment watching dust swirl in the chink of sunlight falling through the gap in my four-poster's hangings and savored the thought that it was Saturday. The first week of term seemed to have dragged on forever, like one gigantic History of Magic lesson. Judging by the sleepy silence and the freshly minted look of that beam of sunlight, it was just after daybreak. I pulled open the curtains around my bed, got up, and started to dress. The only sound apart from the distant twittering of birds was the slow, deep breathing of my fellow Gryffindors.
I opened my schoolbag carefully, pulled out parchment and quill, and headed out of the dormitory for the Common Room, hoping to finally pen a letter to Sirius. Making straight for my favorite squashy old armchair beside the now extinct fire, I settled myself down comfortably and unrolled my parchment while looking around the room. The detritus of crumpled-up bits of parchment, old Gobstones, empty ingredient jars, and candy wrappers that usually covered the Common Room at the end of each day was gone, as were all Hermione's elf hats. And then I had a heart attack.
"Harry!" I gasped. He was sitting in another armchair on the other side of the fireplace, distinctly hidden behind the shadows. He jumped too, his glasses tilting painfully.
"Merlin—what are you doing!" he snapped.
"Writing a letter to Sirius—what are you doing hiding in the corners!" I whispered.
"Writing to Sirius," he mused, holding up a parchment. "Sometimes, I feel like he's your godfather, not mine."
"I wish," I rolled my eyes. "I'm stuck with Bellatrix Lestrange for my godmother, the crazy cousin of said cool godfather."
Harry smiled slowly before moving to the big fireplace in the middle. He was wearing a really large jumper, whose sleeves hung off his hands like they were five sizes bigger, and track pants. I couldn't say differently for myself—turtleneck sweater and bermudas. He was also carrying a large blanket around his shoulders. I moved next to him and draped some blanket over myself.
"Do you want to see something?" I asked. Harry looked at me for a second before nodding.
I raised my uninjured hand and pointed it at the unlit fireplace. The wood was still ashen and red. Two logs flew from the pile and landed with a thump in the fireplace with a faint dust of my magic.
"Wicked—"
"That's not it," I rolled my eyes. The I felt my magic roll from my heart, like blood, to my fingertips, burning me a little, like the kiss of a warm morning. Then it poured out and with a little spark in the fireplace, the logs burst into flames in an inferno of warmth. Harry jumped next to me, his glasses actually falling off this time.
"Merlin! What—"
"I've been practicing," I grinned. "I can make elements now. Mostly fire, actually. That's the easiest—"
"Or you have a pyrokinetic streak like Seamus—you know," he turned to me with a bemused expression. "Seamus is quite good. I approve of Seamus. Sirius likes Seamus—"
"Sirius doesn't know Seamus—"
"—maybe you should dump Malfoy and date Seamus!"
"Why would anyone dump Draco for Seamus," I hissed. "No offense to Seamus but I'm not into him when he's so into Dean!"
Harry did a double take. "What?"
"C'mon Harry," I groaned. "Please tell me you've noticed it! Don't tell me you saw them together and thought, oh, best of friends! Because there's more there and we all know it—Vincent has a running bet that Dean would be the one to initiate it!"
"Wh—Who's Vincent?"
"Who's—Vincent Crabbe!" I nearly laughed at how oblivious he was. "He's daft and he noticed it better than you."
"Dean,"Harry said slowly. "And Seamus?"
"Please tell me you're not affronted by the idea of two boys kissing," I frowned. Harry still looked puzzled. "Because the world has bigger problems than boys who like to kiss boys—"
"Merlin—You are right—"
"Aren't I always—"
"—That explains so much!"
"Morning," Harry said brightly to Ron, me and Hermione, joining us at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall after he returned from the owlery. He was doing a very dumb smile that I wasn't fond of. His eyes looked glazed and he looked far far away. My brain skimmed through the pages of the book immediately to find out what it was.
Or, instead of torturing myself, I can just give into the oblivion and not be all-knowing for once!
No—that can't be. I have to remember otherwise there's be another Crouch fuckup.
"What are you looking so pleased about?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry in surprise.
"Erm — Quidditch later," said Harry happily, pulling a large platter of bacon and eggs toward him.
"Oh, yeah . . ." said Ron. He put down the bit of toast he was eating and took a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he said, "Listen—you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to — er — give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit . . ."
"Look, I don't think you should," said Hermione seriously, "you're both really behind on homework as it is and the only one who's actually working on time is Skylar, that too because of Malfoy, of all people —"
But she broke off; the morning post was arriving and, as usual, the Daily Prophet was soaring toward her in the beak of a screech owl, which landed perilously close to the sugar bowl and held out a leg; Hermione pushed a Knut into its leather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as the owl took off again. I rounded up on Harry as Ron tried to distract Hermione from homework.
"It was Cho, wasn't it?" I asked in a whisper. I didn't need an answer. The rise of color on my brother's pale face was enough. "I'm going to go out there and tell you—I am.not particularly fond of her."
"What?" Harry hissed. "Why not?"
She snitches on our still non-existent Dumbledore's Army, for example. But I couldn't tell him that.
"She's a Tornadoes Fan!" I said because that's all I could remember Ron being disdainful about. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically.
"You don't know shit about Quidditch—"
"She broke up with Cedric and now she's after you," I said. "If you ask me, I think she fancies famous boys. Like Cedric and you. I just said what I had to say—"
"I don't like Malfoy either," Harry said. "Yet you go about frolicking with him—"
"I don't frolick—"
"— a moment," said Hermione suddenly. "Oh no — Sirius!"
"What's happened?" said Harry, and he snatched at the paper so violently that it ripped down the middle so that he and Hermione were holding half each.
"‘The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer. . .blah blah blah. . .is currently hiding in London!’” Hermione read from her half in an anguished whisper.
"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," said Harry in a low, furious voice. "He did recognize Sirius on the platform. . . "
"What?" said Ron, looking alarmed. "You didn't say —"
"Shh!" said the other two. ". . . ‘Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black is very dangerous . . . killed thirteen people . . . broke out of Azkaban . . .’ the usual rubbish," Hermione concluded, laying down her half of the paper and looking fearfully at Harry and Ron. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all," she whispered. "Dumbledore did warn him not to."
"Lucius recognized Sirius?" I whispered under my breath. "When did this happen?"
"Probably when you went to the loo," Harry said. "He told Malfoy about it too, because he was pointing at the dog and Malfoy actually looked terrified."
"Jesus, fuck—"
"Potter," Draco said suddenly standing at the Gryffindor Table during breakfast. I dropped my croissant.
"Malfoy," Harry sneered, looking alarmed. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to have a little talk," he said, pointedly looking at Harry, avoiding all eye contact with me. "Now."
"I don't have anything to talk to you about," Harry snapped at him, reaching for his wand.
"Yeah, go away. Go jinx some first years with your Slytherin buddies," Ron added.
Draco breathed deeply and it look like it was taking him all his willpower to not punch Harry in the face.
"I don't want to pick a fight, Potter. And it's important. So can you please give me a few minutes of your precious time?"
Everyone was a little taken aback. Draco Malfoy saying please was a big deal. But Draco Malfoy not picking a fight? Impossible.
"Draco—" I started.
"Shut up," he smiled at me fakely. "Unless you want me to go to Professor McGonagall to report what's been happening."
"NO—"
"Then shut up," he smiled. "Potter?"
Harry looked at me and said, "What's this about?"
I looked around the table. I didn't want everyone to know. I begrudgingly got up from the table. "You're going to pay for it," I said to Draco who only smiled at me. "Come on," I said to Harry who, cluelessly, followed me out of the Hall along with Draco.
"What is it," Harry asked. He still looked at Draco with hatred.
"Before I say anything, I must let you know," Draco said with the wisdom of the centaurs, "I'm not here to make amends with you. But as we both care about Skylar, I must speak to you time to time about the horrible, self destructive tricks she's pulling out of her sleeves to help you."
"What?" Harry looked at me. "What tricks?"
"Also," Draco looked at him with contempt. "As her brother, I expect you to keep a better eye on her."
"Don't tell me how to be a brother, Malfoy!"
"So, have you known about this?" Draco said as he suddenly de-bewitched my hand revealing the scar.
"I have that too," Harry said with shock. "It's from Umbridge's quill. Have you been in detention too?"
"No—"
"She linked you to her so that she bleeds when you write with that quill. That quill was supposed to draw your blood but instead," he looked at me. "It draws hers. So every day that you spend in that detention with that old hag, she sits in the library bleeding out of her hand so that you won't have to go through it."
"What?" Harry said loudly looking at me. "What—Why did you do that?" He said grabbing my arm. "It's supposed to be a real scar? Like, hurting scar?"
"Yes—"
"Stop being so clueless Potter," Draco said as he took a few steps away. "And try not to be a bitch and stop getting in detentions. I don't care about you. But I do care about her. And this is hurting her."
Having said that, he walked away. Leaving me to explain to Harry what had been going on.
I had never seen him look so mad. First Draco. Now him? Is the universe mad at me?
"You reverse the spell right now," he fumed holding my hand just like the first day when I spelled us. I looked at him sadly.
"It doesn't work like that," I smiled and took back my hand.
"So? How does it work?" He asked.
"I—" I sighed. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" He threw up his arms. "You know everything but you don't know this?"
I laughed. "I don't know everything!"
"It's not funny, stop laughing!" He said. "Who knows how to counter it?"
"No one," I continued laughing. "It wears off at it's own sweet time."
"But you're bleeding out of your hands! And Malfoy had to tell me this. Malfoy!"
"You better stop getting detentions then," I shrugged, walking away. "And study. OWLs are hard."
"You know, we probably should try and get more homework done during the week," Pansy muttered to Theo, as they finally laid aside Professor McGonagall's long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus spell and turned miserably to Professor Sinistra's equally long and difficult essay about Jupiter's moons.
"Yeah," said Theo, rubbing slightly bloodshot eyes and throwing his fifth spoiled bit of parchment into the fire beside them. "Listen — shall we just ask Draco if we can have a look at what he's done?"
I looked at him. He was inside a book. Literally inside. It wasn't good for his eyesight, I thought,as he skimmed through a Arithmancy textbook violently fast. It was hopeless.
"No," I said heavily, "you know he won't let us." And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the library began to thin again. At half-past eleven, Draco wandered over to us, his tie loose and a slightly disheveled look on his face. "Nearly done?"
"No," said Theo shortly. I peeked into his paper. "Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," I said, pointing at a line in his Astronomy essay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanos."
"Thanks," snarled Theo, scratching out the offending sentences. Draco chuckled lightly. Pansy was dead asleep on the table.
"Come," Draco offered a hand. "It's five minutes to curfew. I'll drop you to your Commons—"
"You don't have to, I can manage," I said. I wasn't entirely used to the idea of dating Draco Malfoy, but I was dating Draco Malfoy and it was wonderful and my heart kept beating too hard, my face was too warm, and if he kept doing this—this being existing!— I would pass away soon. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Let me rephrase that," he said. "I'm not concerned for your safety, okay? I don't care what happens to you," he said sarcastically. I laughed.
"What would attack me in Hogwarts?"
"Oh, I don't know, a pink thing that looks like a digestive Potion," Draco crinkled his nose in disgust. "Besides, I'm a Prefect. If anyone else catches you, there's a chance you'd be put in detention by some other Prefect. You're going to be safe with me."
Theo gagged and if I was an observer, I'd have gagged too. But I wasn't an observer. This was my boyfriend, offering to drop me off to a different part of a castle where I lived. And he was quite literally royalty, so we can consider him a Prince. A—
"Disney prince," I whispered as I took his hand and stood up, grinning.
"Pardon?" Draco asked, a strand of blond falling on his face. I had the strangest urge to hold it.
"Nothing," I muttered, turning away and putting my pen and parchments into my bag. I was still grinning when I saw him sling his bag over his shoulder.
We started walking. The concealment charm on my hand was still there so the scar wasn't visible but Draco still held the hand gingerly as if afraid to hurt.
"I'm sure you've read the Prophet today," he said quietly. Most of the portraits were sleeping but little orange balls of fire still flamed in the braziers. "About Sirius Black?"
Is he ambushing me? Draco didn't know about Sirius. He didn't know that Sirius wasn't actually a murderer and I had hidden him. I looked around quickly. All the portraits were sleeping. But Lucius was a Death Eater, and he could be using Draco to get information from me. He doesn't know about the Order yet, but —
"I did, yeah," I said. We were walking up the steps towards the Tower now. I hoped I wasn't looking nervous or anything.
"My father saw the huge dog with you and Potter at the station and said, ‘Son, that's Sirius Black,’," he mused. "Do you want to shed some light on that fact?"
I gulped. Do I want to? I do want to. He is my boyfriend. Sirius is innocent.
Fuck this. I'm telling Draco not because he's my boyfriend but because I need to give him something to trust me on. And even if he snitches and goes and tells his daddy, the Ministry was unlikely to believe my word when they're so hellbent on calling me and Harry liars. And, on top of that, they'd never find Grimmauld Place.
"I can—" I cleared my throat. "Shed some light."
"Go on, then."
"Uhm," I cleared my throat again. "Sirius Black is innocent. The one who killed the muggles was Peter Pettigrew, who faked his own death—"
"—lived as a rat and ressurected You-Know-Who," Draco mused. "Yes."
"So you knew Sirius was innocent!" I turned to him.
"It was quite a celebration in my house when he was arrested, Skylar," he said darkly. "Auntie Bella was so happy she went and killed thirteen muggles."
I shuddered. "Merlin—"
"I knew the Sirius Black being innocent bit. I need you to tell me why he's a dog—"
"He's an animagus," I said.
"I figured that much," he said.
"He, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin were friends in school and to help with Lupin's lycanthropy, the other three turned to animagi. That's why he's a dog."
Draco looked around for a bit and said, "Where exactly is this tower of yours?"
I chuckled. "We're going the right way, don't worry."
"Okay," he said. "And why was the dog with you?"
I swallowed greatly. "I'm sort of hiding him."
It wasn't until I was three steps ahead that I turned back and saw Draco had frozen on the spot completely. I blinked before hurriedly going back to him lest he faints or something. "Draco? Draco—"
"You're hiding Sirius Black?" he hissed under his breath. "Mass murderer—"
"He's innocent—"
"Not to the Ministry, no!" Draco was now walking again. Staying in one spot last curfew was dangerous. Both our eyes and ears were open for both Umbridge and Filch. "Can you prove he's innocent?"
"—no."
"Do you have any regard for the law?" he asked as we reached the landing of the Gryffindor Common Room. "You helped a fugitive escape, you hid him I don't know how, you went and competed in the most dangerous tournament to ever exist, and now said fugitive is dropping you off at the station?"
"Well," I drew circles with my feet. "Worse things can happen—"
"Are you insane?" Draco grabbed my hand, forgetting the wound because of the concealment and I winced loudly as a stitch opened. The charm wore off and a drop of blood started pooling at the Lies. His eyes hardened and they were very silver.
"I'm sorry," Draco said calmly. He eyed the drop of blood that was already clotting and gingerly rubbed a finger over it, brushing the blood off. Then he looked at me. "I'm going to kill her."
I did a double take. He wasn't serious, but it was either the way he looked or the way he said it that made it look convincing. "No, please don't!"
"Why? She did this to you, albeit unknowingly because you're self-destructive," Draco cocked an eyebrow. "But that doesn't mean she won't do it to you ever chance she gets. So why not?"
"It's illegal—"
"You're the one hiding a fugitive," Draco said. I stared at him for a second before cracking a grin.
"As I've already committed a crime punishable by imprisonment, I'd like to commit another by being the one to kill her," I said. "You know what they say, if I'm going to hell for one sin, then I might as well commit a million sins and go to hell like a legend."
Draco looked at me, fixing me into spot with a glare that made me wonder if I had somehow angered him. But then he took a deep breath and said, in an almost commanding voice, "Kiss me." His eyes were a pool of silver that captured me until my brain finally processed the request and my face went warm.
'It's not a big deal,' I thought, trying to calm my beating heart. It wasn't our first time, not even the third, but perhaps it was the nervous expression on Draco's face that made me feel as if I were back at the Slytherin alcoves again. Draco was looking at me expectantly, eyes fixed on mine despite the blush darkening his pale cheeks. How sensitive.
I silently tugged him closer by the hand, using the other to hold the lower side of his face and gently pull him down. "Yes, sir," I whispered before closing the distance between us.
The familiar softness was the first thing I felt, the warmth was next, and I wanted more. I pushed further, feeling the small sound the other let out. It was a brief, surprised sound that felt like winning a match. I wrapped an arm around Draco, holding him in place as I kissed him. There was another sound, short and pleased. I chased it, advancing until there was a sudden halt and the soft lips parted.
Ha ha! I thought maturely.
A rush ran through me when I felt the small gap as if I were about to jump from a very high place to unexplored but promising depths. I could feel my heart drumming on my ears and a hand slightly tensing on his shoulder as I tentatively parted my lips too. The kiss turned softer, warmer and wet for precious seconds before another startled sound left the other and I was pushed back.
Draco was very red and I hoped I wasn't. My hands were still in his chest and his hands on my shoulders and the distance was minimal but his face made me feel satisfied about my work. It was a good kiss and Draco's redness gave it away.
When several moments passed and he didn't tell me anything, I said, "If that was your way of approving my murder plan, I'm very—"
Draco flowered at me, his face still red. "That—that was a good kiss. Nice flow—"
"I don't want you to give a review of my kiss," I laughed. "And I know that it was good, your face is really red."
"Oh, hush." I grinned at him. "What?"
"Nothing—I just really like you."
"As you should." Draco rolled his eyes humorously. "Stop being daft and go to sleep, alright? And try not to commit crimes."
"Yes, sir," I jabbed again, but my teasing grin froze when Draco leaned in to press a kiss on the corner of my mouth, soft and fleeting like a second. Fuck.
"Goodnight, Firegold," said Draco softly, and his lips parted in a grin. "I'm rather fond of you too," he said, not bothering to hear my answer before walking down the stairs in his usual aristocratic way.
'You just have to have the last word,' I thought as I watched him disappear around the corner, my head light as I held a hand to the spot Draco had kissed, somehow still warm.
When I walked in, Harry was waiting for me in a pile of blankets with Ron. Ron stared at me for a second before rolling his eyes.
"You're so whipped, it's disgusting."
The best day, Dolores Umbridge was appointed High Inquisitor. My Potions essay was returned with an Exceeds Expectations. Snape had said, "You exceeded my expectations by turning in the paper on time." This made up for the Dreadful Harry got although he was thoroughly angry at it. He blamed it on Draco although I'm not sure at all how his incapability in education was Draco's fault.
The Slytherin Common Room was as tense as the Gryffindor Commons. Theo was having a bitch fit but it was nothing compared to the total tantrum Draco was throwing. He had been reading the paper while playing chess with Blaise (very sexy, I know) and then he toppled over the board and scared away a few first years.
"That—filthy—cough syrup!" he barked. "How has she shown immediate success! So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this ‘Educational Decree’ and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers I can't believe this. It's outrageous—"
"I can see my OWLs going down the drain!" Pansy hissed at me in the courtyard where we met.
"I'm going to cry," Theo had said in Potions. "I'm actually going to cry, I hope you have enough tissues!"
"I have neither the time, nor the crayons to explain how absolutely fowl this is!" Blaise had snarled during lunch and then burst into a fluent Italian that I didn't understand.
So I had a plan. I'm a Gryffindor. I'm Harry Potter's cousin who everyone was sure was a nutter. I was definitely going to be a part of the Dumbledore's Army. But I cannot leave behind my fellow Slytherins. So I had the most bizarre plan for the bunch of people who probably never broke rules. I asked Draco and Pansy to assemble all those who felt harassed by Umbridge and wanted a new teacher.
"Hi," I said addressing the people in front of me. I had expected a few people. I certainly hadn't expected the entire Slytherin batch of OWL, NEWT and fourth and sixth year students."Thank you for gathering."
"What is this about?" Draco asked as he looked around at the crowd of Slytherins and then at me. He had a permanent frown on his face the whole day.
"This is an association, Draco," I smiled. "We have our OWLs coming up. It's serious. And we have our bright futures staring at us—"
"Except it's not so bright with that hag teaching us and interrupting all our classes," said Michael Peltviz, a fifth year Slytherin with an aptitude for Herbology.
"Exactly," I said. "You just made my point."
"So? We can't change what's happening," Pansy said.
"No, we can't."
"And?" Theo said impatiently. "Why did you summon us at this ungodly hour?"
"It's before dinner," I rolled my eyes. "OWLs will have practicals. Practicals we won't pass with Umbridge teaching us as she rarely lets us use our wands."
"I've been wondering the same thing," said Blaise.
"I have an idea," I said. "But this can't go out of these doors. Which it won't. I jinxed the session. So whoever sneaks, will die."
A murmur of gasps were heard.
"Skylar, what the fuck?" Draco said.
"I'm kidding. No one will die," I laughed. "But you will be petrified for a week. So don't sneak."
"Great," Nott smirked. "Very Slytherin of you."
"Thank you," I laughed. "So, I suggest we practice the Defense Against the Dark Arts spells and a little more on our own. I have a place in mind. That way, we get practice for the real things out there as well as for our exams."
A murmur of assent was heard. Slytherin was probably the only House who completely and wholeheartedly believed about Voldemort's return, probably because most of their parents are Death Eaters. And my popularity amongst the Slytherins was startling, thanks to Draco.
"But," Eliza, a girl who was way too pretty with her Sandy hair and dark blue eyes, said. "We're noobs."
"Excellent choice of words," I struggled to keep a straight face. "I'm not. I'm not a noob. And neither is Draco."
He sat up. "What—"
"I had practiced a lot of NEWT level spells when I was preparing for the Triwizard Tournament last year. And the year before I had practiced a lot more with Draco, including the Patronus charm. So, I believe both of us," I looked at Draco who was looking at me with a half confused smirk, "we can help you all and so ourselves for the purpose of both, the exams and the war."
"What war?" asked Eliza. She was distracting.
"Please," Pansy rolled her eyes. "You-Know-Who is back, you daft bimbo. It's an epidemic."
Another murmur of gossip went up.
"But if we get caught?" Someone piped.
"We're only studying," Draco said. "It's nothing but a study session. It's not a crime."
A Prefect's support was everything. Especially such a beautiful, smart Prefect. Everyone agreed almost instantly.
I grinned.
"We'll start next week. Once a week. Right here. Before dinner. Have a great day, my friends," I jumped down from the centre table. Draco held me as the crowd dispersed.
"Sometimes," he said as he looked me in the eye, leaning very close to me, "I don't know what to do with you."