Penny, Evelyn and Greta returned to the dorm earlier than expected. I looked up from the healing textbook on my lap, my substitute pastime since I ended up leaving my notebook in the restroom at Hog's Head. I debated going back for it, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble, and I would come back for it another day.
"Erica," Greta breathed, her maroon hair dotted with snow, "You'll never guess what just happened."
"Katie Bell was cursed," Penny announced excitedly, not giving Greta a chance to break the news. I blinked.
"Huh?" I blinked, wondering if I heard them correctly.
Evelyn sat on her bed, peeling off her scarf and wool coat. "It happened just outside of Hogsmeade. Potter and his friends saw it all. By the time we got there, Katie had been taken to the medical wing."
I paused to digest the news. We were all just at Hogsmeade. And now a girl's been cursed. "Do you reckon Potter did it?" I asked with uncertainty.
"Why would he curse someone from his own house?" Greta frowned.
"Because he's a loon," Penny remarked.
I had a bad feeling in my stomach. "Wasn't Katie at Hog's Head when we were there?"
"Yes, she was," Evelyn agreed. "Though, I didn't look at her too closely. I was busy looking at Dimitri."
"Who cares who did it," Penny chortled, "It's hilarious."
Greta looked at Penny with wary eyes. "Penny, she's been sent to the hospital. She may have to stay there for the rest of term."
Penny shrugged, checking out her nails. "Good. That means a vacancy on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
I couldn't believe Penny's blatant amusement at this horrible situation. I had been reading up on curses in the medical encyclopedia. They were torturous, some long-lasting; even fatal. Removing them takes a lot of work and often means a long recovery.
"People said they saw her with a parcel," Evelyn informed me. "Reckon that's what cursed her."
A parcel. My heart stopped. I saw someone else with a mysterious parcel at Hogsmeade. But I couldn't say who it was; not to my friends. Not to anyone.
My brain began to piece things together. That's what Draco was doing in the women's restroom with that box; and if he gave the box to Katie, and now she was cursed-
No, no. I stopped myself. There was no reason why Draco would do that. And I couldn't be certain it was even the same parcel.
But... remember what Draco said that night at the lake? My blood ran cold. Draco did tell me he was burdened with a difficult task. Something that only he could do. Was this it? My thoughts wandered into dangerous territory. Perhaps that parcel that Katie Bell had was meant for Harry Potter.
But then... Why was Draco in the women's restroom?
"I'm going to get some dinner," Penny announced, practically commanding all of us to come with her. Greta and Evelyn went with her, but I decided to pass. I doubted I could keep down any food right now.
Maybe I should go to the medical wing to see if Madam Pomfrey needs help, I considered. I began to rise from my bed, and stopped myself, suddenly remembering the notebook I had left in the restroom.
If someone were to find that and trace it back to me, I could be considered a suspect for planting that cursed parcel in the women's restroom for someone else to find. Oh, no.
I had to tell someone, I decided. I owed nothing to Draco anymore, so exposing him to McGonagall was the best course of action. I had to protect myself.
I rose on unsteady legs to the door, and was startled to hear a knock on the other side. My immediate thought was that it was McGonagall herself, come to tell me that I was being accused of planting a suspicious parcel in the women's room which cursed Katie. My mind buzzed with momentary panic. But I had my own testimony to defend myself; all I had to do was expose Draco.
I opened the door, and Draco himself slipped inside, roughly shutting the door behind him. I staggered back in surprise. He looked like he was on the verge of a complete breakdown.
"Draco, you're shaking," I said, noticing the way his fingers trembled uncontrollably. I still was not happy to see him; I remained rather pissed, but seeing him like this... tugged at my heart.
He stepped towards me. More pleadingly than I had ever thought possible for him, he implored, "I need you to help me."
I scanned his body; his suit was a little disheveled, his face damp from melted snow or perhaps his own perspiration, but there were no visible wounds. I didn't know why I even bothered checking.
"I'm not your matron anymore," I retorted, crossing my arms.
He let go of a breath. "Your roommates," he glanced at the door behind him, "Will they be gone long?"
"They've just left for dinner. Tell me what you want."
"I need you to vouch for me," he replied. His usual demeanor of cocky arrogance was gone. All that was left was a frightened young man.
"What?" I barked. "I can't believe you. You're so..." I flattened my lips, "You're so self-centered to think you can verbally berate me and then beg for my help in the same day!"
Draco reeled, pressing his face into his hands. "I know. And I'm sorry."
I paused. That was the first apology he had ever given me. To anyone, for that matter. Quietly, I asked, "Does this have something to do with Katie Bell?"
Draco looked away, his mouth taut. That was all the answer I needed.
"What was in the parcel, Draco?" I whispered.
His eyes shut tightly as if trying to erase the memory. "A cursed necklace. From Knockturn Alley."
I raised a hand to my mouth. My suspicion was correct. "You... you're the reason why..."
"It wasn't meant for her," he said angrily. "But Potter saw me carry the parcel into Hog's Head. He accused me of planting the necklace for her to find. But I have eye witnesses who saw me carry the package out."
Draco reached into the back of his belt, a spot concealed by his long coat, and procured my book. It was covered in one of the tattered layers of leather that had been wrapped around the necklace, in order to disguise it.
"McGonagall and Snape accepted it as my proof," Draco explained, "But I need you to go along with this. If they ask, tell them it's your book, and I was just holding it for you."
My eyelids fluttered. "You-you're asking me to be your alibi? But won't that raise suspicions?"
"What suspicions?" Draco asked, not pleased that I was finding fault in his seemingly perfect excuse. "You and I are in the same house."
"But we're not friends," I argued. "According to everyone else, we don't know each other." I wet my lips thoughtfully. "I thought you wanted to keep it that way."
"I know I was cold to you before-"
"You were horrible to me before," I spat, glaring daggers up at him. "So unless you have an explanation for that too, I'm not helping you. I'm rather far from forgiveness."
Draco exhaled through his nose in frustration. "You kissed me," he snarled. "I didn't know how to react."
"You kissed me back!" I cried, "And then you fired me. I was drunk, Draco. I didn't know what I was doing."
"No?" he raised an eyebrow. He opened my book, flipping through the paintings until he got to the ones I had made of him. He turned the page, revealing more. "This seems to make it clear enough what your real intentions are."
I growled and snatched the book from his hands. "I can't believe you looked through my notebook."
"I didn't. McGonagall and Snape did," he informed me. "She rather liked your paintings."
My face flushed with embarrassment. I placed the book safely on my trunk, and turned back to Draco. "And... What did they make of the paintings of you?"
Draco shrugged. "I said I posed for them. They didn't have to know that I had never seen them before."
I hesitated. "So McGonagall and Snape think we're..."
"Dating? I suppose," Draco said with indifference. "I don't think they particularly care."
"I care!" I exploded, "I can't go along with this if it means letting two professors believe that we're together. I would never, ever date the likes of you."
Draco looked down at me with his head slightly tilted. He placed his hands in his pockets. "Wouldn't you though?"
He stepped towards me, slowly closing the gap between us with every sentence. "After all, I'm the most skilled wizard in Slytherin. The most attractive one. Girls that have known me for years have gotten on their knees for me." He stopped, his chest closer than a ruler's length to mine. "And yet I chose you to kiss that night."
I was stuck in place by his presence, utterly unable to move. My eyes ran from the lapel of his suit all the way to the grey pupils peering down at me. I took a breath. "Why did you?"
Draco bent at the waist, lowering his face inches from mine, never breaking eye contact. "I may be a powerful wizard, but I am still a man. So think of that the next time you decide to throw your body at me."
I swallowed. I didn't know how, but this encounter started with Draco practically begging me to cover for his shady activities, and now it has turned into him seducing me.
"You're being manipulative," I said to his face, "You know how I feel about you, then, and you're using it to get me to help you. But don't think I'll ever once say it out loud."
Draco straightened. "You don't have to. That would put me in a rather odd position. For I may have to say how I feel about you, as well." His gaze drifted to my chest, and he admired it for a moment before looking back at my face with a smug expression. "And that will never happen."
I roughly pulled up the neckline of my shirt, covering my breasts. "You only like me for my body, then," I scowled. "So why did you care if I was drinking with other boys?"
Stone-faced, he replied, "Because. I'm rather protective of you. You are my matron, after all."
I had nothing left to argue. My initial worries about leaving my notebook in the restroom were gone, since Draco had removed it from the scene and used it as his evidence. Coming forward now would only serve to incriminate us both. I had no choice but to go along with it.
"Fine," I whispered, but loathed everything about this, "I won't tell anyone about what I saw."
Feeling assured that I would keep quiet, Draco gave me a fleeting but pleased smile. "Good girl." Not taking my eyes off of me until he had completely turned around, he added, "The deal is back on."
He didn't give me a chance to reply, for he went to the door, and was gone.