𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝟑.𝟖 - 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬

A late autumn snowfall absorbed Hogwarts overnight and turned the castle into a glittering portrait of soft blues and frosted whites. When you woke up on the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, the fireplace in the common room was alight for the first time all year.

Just after breakfast, you joined up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione so the four of you could make your way down to the little village at the base of the school. Hogsmeade, unlike Diagon Alley, seemed entirely untouched by the world outside the snowy campus. It was refreshing to see so many smiling faces as the townsfolk welcomed students into their warm shops. It was only November, but many storefronts were littered with twinkling holiday decorations.

You and Ron lingered a few feet behind Harry and Hermione who were hunched over in a hushed conversation. They hadn't stopped arguing about the identity of the Half-Blood Prince since you brought it up in the Gryffindor common room just a few days prior. You honestly didn't care what Harry did with the book as long as it didn't get you into trouble.

Hermione on the other hand was adamant about making him turn it in to Professor Slughorn and confess to cheating his way through the first semester. Her reasoning was that it wasn't fair to the other students' but you knew she was probably just jealous that you and Harry took her spot at the top of the class.

"So..." you cleared your throat, kicking patches of snow with the tip of your boot. Ron looked up at you, eyes tired. He was still grumpy about sleeping halfway through breakfast. "Lavender thinks you're all that in a bag of chips. You should try talking to her."

Ever since you dismounted from the carriages, you'd tried to casually talk up Lavender, just like you promised her you would. Nothing too heavy, but you dropped her name enough times that you hoped he would take notice. Ron rolled his eyes at you. "Yeah, right. She's probably convinced herself I can get her close to Harry."

"That's not true," you argued. "She seems to really like you."

Ron shot you a disbelieving look. "Really?"

"Yes, really," you laughed. "She's been talking about you non-stop."

A loud gust of wind whirled by and stirred the surface of the snow around your ankles. You weren't the first group of students to cross over the bridge that day and the white powder was mostly packed into the stone pathway. You scrunched up your nose as the cold air pricked at your face. You couldn't wait until you were back inside, reading in front of the fireplace.

"(Y/N)!" Harry exclaimed, breaking away from whatever Hermione had been whispering to him. You looked up from beneath your wool hat and saw that both of them had stopped dead in their tracks to face you. Hermione's expression was more or less fed-up and you looked between your two friends cautiously. "I don't want to settle a disagreement between you two, if that's what you're after."

Harry chuckled and shook the snow out of his dark hair. "No, we can settle our disagreements just fine, thank you." He reached out his hand, gesturing for you to take it. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks. I'll buy you a Butterbeer."

You smiled gratefully and stepped forward to intertwine his fingers with yours. You mentioned to him in passing about how you had been cut off financially by your parents. You didn't think he would have remembered but you were pleasantly surprised that he offered to cover for you just now. "Butterbeer? What's that?"

"Blimey, (Y/N)," Ron came up on your left, tugging on the strings of his hat. He had a bewildered expression on his face like he couldn't fathom your question. "You've never had Butterbeer before?"

"I-" you started to defend yourself when Ron yanked hard on your sleeve, pulling you across the bridge toward a tired looking building. You giggled at his impatience and struggled to keep up with him as he ushered you through the snow.

The Three Broomsticks was an unassuming establishment from the outside. The dangling wooden sign was half-covered in snow and at first glance it reminded you of the Hog's Head Pub where Dumbledore's Army had met for the first time in your fifth year. You were proven wrong, however, when the door opened and you stepped into the busy warm interior.

There was a fire burning in the back of the room and the air smelt of burnt caramel. You only had seconds to study your surroundings before you were pulled toward an empty table near the door. Everyone started to shrug off their coats and you had just hung your long Slytherin scarf over your chair when a young-looking waiter stepped over with a blank notepad and quill.

"Something to drink?" He asked, boredly.

Hermione sat down and you pulled out the chair across from her to take your seat as well. "Four butterbeers, please," she said, ordering on your behalf. The waiter scribbled it down and was about to step away when Ron cut in.

"Make two of those with extra cinnamon," He said. The waiter shrugged and made the note before disappearing. Ron pulled off his hat and tossed it onto the table. "They're best with extra cinnamon," he assured you with the excitement he reserved solely for food.

"I'll trust you, then," you laughed before looking up at Harry. He hadn't said anything since entering the restaurant and he hadn't even bothered to sit down. "Harry?" You asked, tugging on the sleeve of his coat. "What are you staring at?"

He didn't reply, jaw tightening as he shrugged off your hand. "Malfoy," he grumbled. You barely heard him over the other conversations in the room. With eyebrows furrowed together, you followed his line of sight to see that sure enough, Draco was standing half-hidden behind a wooden staircase, staring blankly right back at Harry.

You hadn't seen much of him lately since he stopped coming to both breakfast and lunch after the first week of classes. At dinner he sat at the very end of the table with Pansy, Blaise, and a few others. The enchanted feast was always still on his plate when everyone was excused for bed and you began to worry if he were actually eating at all.

You were about to pull on Harry's sleeve again when Draco looked down at you and released a bated breath. You couldn't tell if he were relieved or disappointed at seeing you there with Harry but either way, he quickly turned his back on you and disappeared into a side-room, shutting the door loudly behind him.

You knew that the boy beside you was about to comment on this but before he could, your waiter returned with a silver tray of drinks which he deposited in front of you. Harry finally sat down and broke his gaze away from the wall. Not wanting to stir any tension, you pulled your hot beverage closer and picked it up off the table with both hands. Just like Ron requested, there was powdered cinnamon sprinkled on top of the whipped cream. Cautiously, you brought the glass mug closer to your lips and took a sip.

It tasted extremely sweet, almost like cream soda with swirling flavors of butterscotch and cinnamon with something bitter hidden far beneath. Without meaning to, you found yourself downing almost half of your glass before putting it back down onto the table. "This is amazing!" you exclaimed, licking your lips.

Ron beamed, still clutching his glass. "See? You're a woman of taste."

Just as fast as you finished the first, you found yourself on your second butterbeer of the evening. No one seemed to notice as you flagged down the waiter and quietly gave him your order. Discovering butterbeer had no doubt been the best thing that's happened to you since the start of the war.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Firethorn! How pleasant to see you both!"

You looked over your shoulder to see none other than Professor Slughorn standing behind you. Harry stood immediately and shook his hand. After wiping the froth away from your lip with your sleeve, you did the same. "You too, Professor."

At first, you thought the greeting would just be left at that, but Harry continued to smile and laugh along with the older man's poor grabs of humor. You didn't know exactly what Harry thought he was going, but before you could ponder it any further, your third butterbeer arrived at the table. 

Slughorn put his hand down on your shoulder, guiding you back into his and Harry's conversation. "...you two are the brightest in my class. Now, I don't give out this information very freely, but I used to throw together an occasional supper party for a few select students. Would you two be game?"

"I'd consider it an honor, sir," Harry agreed quickly with a fake smile plastered across his face. Slughorn chuckled at his enthusiasm and looked down at you expectantly. "Yes, very good. And you, Ms. Firethorn?"

"Oh, yes," You hiccup, pushing your now empty glass to the side. "Yes, I love supper parties."

Ron glanced over and his eyes widened as he surveyed the graveyard of empty glasses stacked across the table on his left. "Blimey, (Y/N). How many of those have you had?"

You hiccuped once more, taking a second to count them. "Uhm..." you mumbled. "Six?"

Ron and Hermione shared a look and he cleared his throat before leaning in close as if not to tip off Slughorn who was still standing behind you, still talking quietly with Harry. "(Y/N), butterbeer is alcoholic."

"What?" You giggled disbelievingly. "Nooo." Whether or not you wanted to admit it, the effects of the drinking were certainly making your brain fuzzy.

As soon as Slughorn wandered away from the table, Harry sat back down and Ron nudged him roughly in the shoulder, pointing at you. "I think we better get (Y/N) back to the castle."

Confused, Harry looked over at you and saw the damage for the first time. His eyes drifted from the empty butterbeers and over to you. For good measure, you hiccuped one more time. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let's do that."

Just as soon as you arrived, you found yourself standing near the exit with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck in anticipation of the biting winds outside the pub. You were the first to get all of your winter gear back on and so you waited patiently near the door away from the table.

"Excuse me," an unfamiliar voice said. You jumped in surprise before turning to your left to see a shorter girl looking up at you. It was Katie Bell. You recognize her instantly from the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. She was on the team alongside Harry, Ginny, and Ron. "Are you going back to the castle?" She asked, gesturing to where your friends stood all around the table.

"I think so," you replied. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on. Ron said something about you needing to go to bed, but you weren't tired in the least. But as long as you got to spend time with Harry, you suppose it didn't matter where you went.

Katie smiled at you, but the gesture didn't quite reach her eyes. It was almost like puppet strings were pulling on her face, forcing her to emote. You shook away the disturbing thought quickly. Merlin, maybe you did need to go to bed.

"Would you deliver this to Dumbledore?" Katie asked, producing a thin, rectangular box from behind her back. It was a matte navy blue color and was secured tightly with a black ribbon. "I was told to give it to him, but I'm going to stay out a bit longer with friends."

"Of course!" You grinned, taking the box and zipping it up into your coat. "Who should I say it's from?"

"Not sure," Katie shrugged. "They just said it was urgent."

"(Y/N), let's go," Hermione finished putting on her gloves and reached out for you. You waved goodbye to Katie as your friends pulled you back out into the cold, but the action was not returned.

It was still early on into the Hogsmeade trip and the bridge was empty as you crossed over the frozen black river back to the base of the school. Every few steps you would lose your balance and stumble over your own feet but thankfully Harry had lent you his arm to lean onto. Despite your very apparent lack of balance, you still insisted that you were completely in your right mind.

Hermione walked on your left, helping Harry as he practically carried you across the bridge. Occasionally she would bat the snow out of your hair and brush down the side of your coat. It didn't help anything, but it no doubt sated her motherly urges. "Straight to bed with you," she chided. "You need to sleep off...whatever this is."

After crossing back over onto solid ground, you unlatched your arm from Harry's. "Oh!" You exclaimed, reaching into your jacket to pull out the long, thin package Katie had given you. "Would one of you deliver this to Dumbledore for me, then? Katie said it was urgent."

As soon as you pulled out the package, everyone took a cautious step back. "(Y/N)..." Harry gulped, holding his arm out between you. "Who gave that to you?"

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Katie Bell. I just said that, didn't I?" You looked down at the box and suddenly felt compelled to open it. "I wonder what's inside."

Ignoring your friends' distant protests, you tugged on the satin ribbon that held the box together and pulled the lid away to reveal a familiar, jagged looking opal necklace. Its tricolored surface twinkled in the daylight as snow collected on the inner-wrappings of the box. It was like the necklace was calling on you to touch it.

Just one...little...touch.

You brought up your hand to drag your index finger against the largest gem. As your finger grew closer, so did the magnetic feeling that pulsed around the object. The whispers became louder, pleading with you to hold it in your hands.

Just as your skin was about to make contact with the necklace, a hand invaded your vision and yanked your arm back over your head. You gasped and dropped the box, looking up at Harry who was breathing heavily. His breath formed clouds of vapor as they swirled up into the cloudy sky. "What are you doing?" He demanded. "You don't know where that came from. It could be cursed!"

☽   ☽   ☽

The Transfiguration classroom was unnervingly quiet. The four of you stood shoulder to shoulder, completely silent as you blinked up at Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. They hovered over the necklace, assessing it with grave focus.

After accidentally dropping said object in the snow, Harry acted quickly and scooped it back up into the box, sealing it shut. As soon as you found your way back into the castle, you sought out someone who could help you identify the strange object and the control it seemed to have over both you and the girl who had given it to you in the Three Broomsticks.

"Is it cursed, Professor?" you chirped, breaking the tense silence. The thought of being under a curse was sobering enough to pull you out of your giggly state. McGonagall turned around slowly, her lips pursed tightly together. She had no answer for you.

"What do you think?" She asked Snape in a hushed voice. You could tell she was trying not to scare you but you saw right through to her skeptical tone.

"I think Ms. Firethorn is lucky to be alive," Snape grumbled, flicking his wand to enchant the necklace so that it hovered at eye-level in the air. Even from across the room, it called to you.

"It's cursed, though, isn't it?" Harry asked, stepping around your left. "I know (Y/N), she wouldn't hurt a fly. If she knew it was cursed, she wouldn't be trying to deliver it to Dumbledore."

You were thankful that he was acting in your defense but at the same time, you felt compelled to remind him that you could speak for yourself.

"Yes," McGonagall whispered. "It's cursed."

"Oh Merlin," you mumbled quietly, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest as you considered the possibilities. What would have happened if you actually touched the necklace?

Harry licked his lips, hand curled into a fist at his side. "It's Malfoy," he seethed. "He's the one that cursed the necklace."

All three of you plus Snape and McGonagall looked over at him with bewilderment. "What?" You asked. "Draco would never try to hurt me or anyone for that matter. I mean, yeah, he's a prick sometimes but he wouldn't actually kill anyone."

"Thank you, Ms. Firethorn," Snape interjected in his usual monotone drawl. "Professor McGonagall and I believe that neither you nor Ms. Bell understood the true intentions behind the delivery of this necklace. You alone may be excused. The rest of you, stay."

You made sure to shoot Harry a cynical look before turning out of the classroom and into the hallway. At first, you considered waiting for them to be let out but then you realized that Hermione was right, you did need to sleep off whatever effect the butterbeer had on you.

For a few minutes, you just wandered down the halls aimlessly, weighing the pros and cons of sneaking back into your dorms.

Pro: your bed.

Con: Pansy Parkinson.

You were just about to turn around and make your way back to the Slytherin common room when you heard the heavy pounding of footsteps against the stone floor. You whipped your head around to see none other than Draco standing in the doorway that led to the front entrance of the castle.

Even from yards away, you could see his shoulders rise and fall with steady breaths. He still had his long black coat on and small clumps of snow fell from his boots as he trampled down the hallway toward you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he inspected you. "Word's travelled down to Hogsmeade. They're saying you've been cursed."

"I'm fine, Draco," you answered, biting back a smile. Even if he was just worried about your safety, he was still talking to you again. And that, no matter the context, was a plus in your eyes.

Up close, you realized he was considerably more concerned than you initially thought. With his hands still gripping your shoulders, he let out a shaky breath and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. After he dropped his hold on you, you blinked up at him. 

Even though a considerable amount of time had passed, you could still hear the echo of his cold voice from when you visited the Room of Requirement together. "Draco..." you said, suddenly finding your mouth incredibly dry. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." His uneven voice gave away the fact that he was very much still shaken up.

"Did you.." you paused, wondering how to word the question so that he wouldn't be offended. "Did you give Katie Bell the cursed necklace?"

His silvery blue eyes glazed over, the softness disappearing from his gaze all at once. You continued even as he stepped away. "It's just that...I could have sworn I'd seen it before. Inside the Room of Requirement."

"That's ridiculous. I don't know what you're talking about," Draco spat. His eyes flickered back and forth between your face and the ring dangling from your neck. He didn't need to say anything else. His venomous gaze spoke for him.

You stood frozen in place as he stormed off down the corridor, winter coat nearly dragging against the floor behind him. Only when he disappeared from sight did you finally reach up and bury the ring under your shirt where it couldn't be seen. 

(A/N: I wrote this so long ago but it remains one of my favorite chapters in this book. It's also super long so I hope you enjoyed! If you didn't already know, I posted the first parts of my marauder's era reader insert story! If you're interested, go check that out. Otherwise, happy reading!)