A Thousand Words

Chapter 20: Talking In Riddles

The first thing Draco felt when he woke up on Saturday morning was a weight on his chest. He groped around blindly until his hands closed around a thin, flat object. He opened his eyes and sat up, wondering how the item, which was wrapped in gold paper, had come to be there.

'To Shadow' was written on the front of the package. Draco's cheeks reddened when he realised that this was something of a late Christmas gift from Starlight, delivered via owl post. He couldn't remember when someone had last given him a present. He had forgotten entirely about the memory draught he had sent Starlight, so he hadn't really been expecting anything in return anyway.

Knowing Starlight had remembered him, however, was a pleasant surprise. Draco sat up, his usual morning peevishness dissipating immediately. Before he set about to unwrapping the gift, however, he looked around, wondering where Latera was. He would need her later to send a thank you note to Starlight.

'Bloody owl,' he grumbled when he saw that the window was open. She must have flown out during the night to go hunting and not yet returned.

Deciding that he would worry about letting his gratitude be known when the time to do so arose, he ripped away the wrapping paper around the flat object. A small, handheld mirror tumbled out and landed on his sheets.

Draco frowned and picked the mirror up. It was round, with a heavy golden handle and frame. He turned it over. There was nothing inscribed on the back.

What am I supposed to do with a mirror? he wondered, searching the wrapping to see if there was any sort of note or card that held further information. Then, his eyes fell on a neatly folded piece of parchment which he assumed had also fallen out of the wrapping paper while his attention was on the mirror. He picked it up, unfolded it, and read the message written on it.

Dear Shadow,

Thank you so much for the memory draught. I probably should have saved it, but instead I chose to use it. I wanted to take your advice, but my unconsciousness was being rather obnoxious, so I ended up visiting the memory of our last meeting instead. I don't regret it, though, so don't feel bad.

Anyway, I'm sorry I sent this so late. I guess with everything going on, I forgot about the difference a Christmas present can make. If you're wondering why I sent you a boring old mirror, let me explain to you what it is. I bought this mirror and another one exactly like it from an antique shop in Hogsmeade a while ago, and it occurred to me on Christmas night that I could charm them into two-way mirrors. A close friend of mine had one once, but he was never able to use it. The wizard who owned the other mirror...well, he died. According to the instructions I followed to make ours, the charm only ceases to function when one side of the partnership leaves the other for good. I should hope that doesn't happen to either one of us in the near future. Like your memory draught, though, these mirrors can only be used once because the process of making them work permanently is, regretfully, far too complicated for me to complete in just a few days. So, if you ever need me, just say my name into your mirror and I'll appear (or rather, I'll be there, but you won't see me).

Now, enough rambling on my end. I do hope you enjoyed your Christmas. Hopefully we can meet again soon?

Love,

Starlight

Draco's heart skipped a beat. Love. That was what Starlight had written. Love. He was certain she had never signed off any of her letters with that word. Surely she didn't mean it. But there it was in plain sight. Did she mean it? Or was it something that just came to her so naturally that she hadn't even noticed when she wrote it? And why did he even care?

Disgusted, Draco threw the letter onto the other end of the bed. Of course she didn't mean it like that. What was he thinking? He was being daft. 'Love' was a common phrase that many people used casually; it was nothing out of the ordinary. Yet even this didn't explain the fact that Starlight had chosen a memory of them over a chance to amend the wrongs between her and her boyfriend. Draco felt a sick, swooping sense of elation at this revelation.

He wanted Starlight to be happy. If it meant bringing her and her boyfriend back together, then he would do it. But there was no denying the jealousy that clouded his mind and judgment at the idea of someone else hugging her, kissing her, touching her...

Forty year old witch with a bad complexion and a poor back! he silently and furiously repeated to himself, even though he found he could no longer thoroughly convince himself that Starlight was either old or ugly, especially since she'd confirmed that they had went to school together. Regardless, he did not have feelings for Starlight. That was wrong. He didn't know her, had never seen her. If he wanted to date someone, there was still Anna...he had her address, he could Floo her...perhaps getting together with her would do him some good...get his mind off of Starlight...

Still, it was definitely jealousy that was making him want nothing more at that moment than to shove Starlight's boyfriend into the nearest Vanishing Cabinet and magically seal the door forever.

Draco miserably leaned back against the headboard. He felt furious with himself, revolted by the knowledge that he secretly wanted Starlight's boyfriend to keep pushing her away. Angrily, he looked out the open window. The sky outside was coloured a depressing shade of grey, and already, a few stray flakes of snow were drifting about in the still air. Draco's thoughts unwillingly returned to Starlight; he wondered if she was watching the snow as well. Then, as quickly as the thought of Starlight had occurred to him, he remembered Hermione.

Immediately, his mood worsened. Their second meeting was scheduled for that afternoon.

'Lydig,' Draco yelled hoarsely upon realising this, 'go down to the basement and fetch me a cup of the Draught of Peace, you miserable creature!'

---

An hour later, Draco was pacing to and fro in the kitchen, feeling decidedly calmer than he had felt earlier. Lydig was tailing him at a distance, his hands clutching each other feebly. He winced every time Draco so much as turned his head.

It was no wonder the house-elf appeared to be treading on thin ice. In his rush, he had accidentally measured a dose of Enmity Elixir rather than the Draught of Peace and given it to his master. Too distracted to notice the mistake, Draco had downed all of it without thinking. Lydig, then, was forced to deal with the effects of Draco's magnified temper until he was able to escape the room, go back down to the basement, and return with the proper potion.

'Bring my writing materials,' Draco finally said to Lydig upon locating a bottle of mulled mead he nicked from a Christmas party held at the Hit Wizard Headquarters a few days ago. He poured himself a mug-full and brought it with him over to the small kitchen table.

Draco watched Lydig scurry out of the room as he sipped his mead placidly. The sweet liquid only served to further pacify him. He wondered vaguely what time he was supposed to meet Hermione. She had said the same time as their last meeting. Had that been at 3pm or 4pm?

Might as well go at 4pm, Draco decided pleasantly. There'd be nothing to do there for an hour if I ended up going early.

At that moment, Lydig returned to the kitchen. He was carrying a dull silver platter bearing a neat stack of parchment, an eagle-feather quill, and Draco's ink bottle. Placing the tray carefully on the table before Draco, he bowed.

'If Master needs anything else, Lydig -'

'Yes, yes, I know, you're at my every command,' said Draco.

He carelessly waved the elf out of the room, then pulled a sheet of parchment towards him, picked up the quill, and dipped it in the ink bottle. He noted that he would have to go out and buy more ink; he was running low.

How would he start off his letter to Starlight? There was no need to bring up his newfound feelings, of course; that would just cause too much unnecessary trouble. Draco settled on beginning with a few words of thanks.

Dear Starlight, he wrote.

Thank you very much for the gift you sent me. I have stored the mirror somewhere safe (this wasn't entirely true, Draco noted with some amusement, as he had actually put the mirror under his pillow), and I intend to use it once the need arises.

Now, onto other subjects. Forgive me, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least somewhat thrilled that you chose a memory with me in it. I'm glad that you enjoyed the broom ride; I certainly did. Still, I have to warn you about your actions. It's probably not my place to do so, but I do care about your happiness, and I wouldn't want the rut between you and your boyfriend to widen any further.

Draco paused here to dip his quill in the ink again. He smirked at what he had written, surprised and pleased by how easy the lies came. Then again, lying had always been an expertise of his.

I understand that there have been a lot of unsettling events happening as of late, and you and the rest of your department must be extraordinarily busy, but I'd like to meet again if that's possible. Feel free to name the time, date, and place (which I suspect will be Sherwood Park again).

Until then, I await your reply.

Yours truly,

Shadow

Draco let his quill linger at 'Yours truly' for a moment. He had almost written 'Love', just as she had, but he'd been unable to bring himself to.

Then, he remembered something else.

P.S. - When you turned to leave the other day, I saw a flash of gold and red. Out of curiosity, are you a Gryffindor?

Draco decided that it would be best if he didn't reveal that he was a Slytherin. Though he had never completely gotten over his contempt for Gryffindors (it was in his blood, he supposed), he had become less focused on the importance of houses over his years in solitude. On the other hand, he was sure that a dislike of Slytherins still remained in the minds of most Gryffindors, and in his current state, he didn't want to say anything that would cause Starlight to lose trust in him in any way.

She'd probably hate me the most, Draco realised, recalling all the conflicts he had stoked in his school years. If she ever knew my identity, that is...

It was a good thing, then, that he didn't intend to tell her anytime soon.

---

'You're late.'

That was the first thing Hermione said to Draco when he sat down across from her.

'Sorry,' Draco apologised. He smiled meekly at her.

'You're in better spirits than you were last time I saw you,' said Hermione suspiciously. 'Have you been drinking again?'

'Only mead,' Draco offered. He shrugged. 'Let's get started.'

Hermione started drumming her fingers on the table irritably. 'First I want to know what kind of potion you took this morning.'

'I just took the Draught of Peace to calm myself down,' said Draco defensively, sensing Hermione's irritation.

'You couldn't have just taken a simple Calming Draught?' Hermione asked doubtfully. She looked at Draco warily. 'When will it wear off?'

'I wasn't that distraught. And it should wear off in the next hour or so. Now let's just get started on this; don't worry about the effects of the potion. It's not as if it made me any less intelligent, Granger.'

She sighed. 'I suppose I could do without your snide comments for a while. Even though I still don't think resorting to magic is the best way to deal with your problems...'

'Right,' Draco muttered. He could feel the temporary calm the potion had induced within him beginning to fade; already, the noise of the little tea shop was starting to give him a headache.

Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the list of matching potions and quickly scanned down it. 'Now, what sort of conclusion did we come to last time?'

There was no response. Wondering what was distracting Hermione, Draco looked up, about to complain about her lack of effort. However, the words fell away on his lips when he noticed her gazing at him, an expression of utmost horror on her face.

'What?' he asked uncertainly. Hermione couldn't be seeing his scars just now; she wasn't that blind.

'You...' she whispered, now fixing her eyes on the list. 'Let me see that,' she said instead when her first attempt at a sentence failed.

Hermione snatched the list from Draco's hands without waiting for a word of consent. She stared at it intently for a few seconds then frowned. 'But your handwriting...'

'What about it?' said Draco indifferently. He took the list back and read it again. His handwriting was indeed a bit messy and somewhat unintelligible, but he had compiled it when he was half-asleep. Surely even Granger would excuse poor handwriting in those kinds of circumstances...

Hermione shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind. 'I mean,' she said quickly, 'I just have a quick question before we start.'

She sounded nervous. Draco wondered what she was withholding from him, but he nodded and allowed her to carry on.

'Do you - er - know anyone by the name of Kay Jamison? She's tall, of average -'

'Yes, I know her,' Draco interrupted. 'She works in my office.'

Hermione's mouth fell open a little. 'Are you two...friends? I mean, does she work for you?'

Draco blinked. He felt a sense of embarrassment and shame wash over him. There was no way he could let Hermione know he had an assistant; she might think him weak or incapable of doing his own work. This is all Kingsley's bloody fault, he thought angrily.

'No,' he said out loud. 'I...uh...I'm not too familiar with her.'

'Oh,' said Hermione, sounding strangely disappointed. For a moment, confusion riddled her features. She bit her lip, as Draco had noticed she tended to do when she was mentally trying to sort a problem out. 'It can't be...' she murmured.

'What can't be?' he said sharply. The Draught of Peace he had taken earlier had entirely worn off by now. It must wear off quicker when Granger's around, he decided. 'What the hell are you talking about, Granger?'

'I just thought - that maybe I figured something out -' she said uncertainly. Her eyes kept darting from the list to Draco's eyes and back again. 'Everything but that adds up...'

'Everything but what, exactly?' Draco demanded. He was getting fed up with Hermione's broken sentences. 'Granger, if you don't tell me what's going on here, I have other -'

'No,' she said quickly, holding up a hand. She looked slightly embarrassed. 'No, don't go. I just thought...oh, never mind. I don't know what I was thinking. Let's just carry on, shall we?'

Draco raised an eyebrow. Though Hermione's strange behaviour had piqued his curiosity, he didn't feel like pursuing the topic if she was going to be so unhelpful. Instead, he made a mental note to question her about it later.

'Fine,' he said, meeting her gaze with a look he hoped made it clear that her weak excuses hadn't convinced him of anything, 'go ahead.