Araminta Malfoy-Potter: Taking Hogwarts

XXXIX.

Araminta made the boys leave while she got dressed. When the curtains were pulled tight around her bed, she hugged a pillow and tried to think about what to do next.

If she just told Draco and Harry straight out about their futures, they might not believe her. Draco might even turn out to have really strong elf magic, since he was part elf, that he didn't know about and he could hurt someone by accident. The best thing to do would be to get Draco and Hermione together and deal with Harry separately, she decided.

She rang a bell on a little cord next to her bed to bring a house-elf to her side, and arranged to have a picnic basket made for the picnic. She knew the boys' tastes very well, having grown up with them, and knew that the fastest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. She'd just have to be careful not to give them heartburn in the process.

Madam Pomfrey came to check her pulse and temperature. "Are you sure you should be up and about, Araminta? You've hardly regained consciousness, and you don't want to go fainting all over the place. It seems there's been a fainting frenzy lately," she said regretfully. "I don't know what's causing it."

"I'm going to be fine," Araminta reassured her. "I won't faint again, I promise. I'm feeling much better. See?" She hopped back and forth and gave the nurse a big grin.

"Oh, all right," said Madam Pomfrey fondly. "Just fill out this form so that I can keep our medical records up to date."

Araminta took the clipboard Madam Pomfrey handed her and scribbled down her medical history on the form. "All done, Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey?"

She poked her head out from between the bed curtains, but Madam Pomfrey was checking on another patient, a Slytherin from what Araminta could tell, who had just been floated into the hospital wing.

"She's busy, I think. I'll take that to her desk," Harry said.

"Oh, thanks so much, Harry!" Araminta said.

"Suck up," muttered Draco under his breath.

"Oh, Draco," said Araminta. She smiled fondly at him. "Don't worry about it."

"Who said I was worried?" said Draco, sneering. "I just hate dorks like him, always pretending they're better than anyone else."

This actually made Araminta feel relieved. If Draco didn't already like Harry, the chances of getting him back together with Hermione were looking better and better.

***

XL.

The house-elf, Dobby, carried their picnic basket down to the lake for them and spread out a red- and white-checkered tablecloth on the ground. He opened their picnic basket and opened a bottle of sparkling cider and poured some in each of their glasses while holding a little towel over his arm. This amused Draco, but Harry just looked worried.

"Harry, what's wrong?" said Araminta softly so that Draco wouldn't hear them.

Harry stared closely at Araminta. "Nothing, nothing."

Araminta didn't believe him but decided to pretend that she did. "Okay. Let's get into this picnic, then."

Araminta opened up the picnic basket and began to take out the supplies. They had grapes, cold fried chicken, more sparkling cider, ice cream enchanted to stay cold, potato chips, and baby carrots. It was a fairly balanced meal.

"Here you go," she said, handing Draco a chicken wing. "So, did you hear I'm on the Slytherin Quidditch team too?"

"Yeah, I'm the captain so of course I knew," said Draco. "I hear you even kicked Potter's butt today."

"It was a training exercise, Malfoy," said Harry. "Araminta is a great Quidditch player. She'll help us beat you into the ground."

"Um, guys," said Araminta. "I play for both teams."

Harry and Draco glared at each other and took bites of their chicken.

"Wew, we'w see 'bout that," said Harry through a mouthful of poultry.

"Yes, we will," said Draco primly as he Summoned a knife and fork from the picnic basket. "My goodness, Potter, but you are crude," he added snottily.

Harry just licked his fingers angrily.

"Ew. Manners, Potter."

"You two sound like my parents," Araminta said without thinking, with a half-smile on her face.

"Actually,"--Harry paused to swallow a carrot stick--"I was meaning to ask you about them."

Araminta's insides clenched, and she knew that it wasn't from the food. "Um," she said, rummaging through the picnic basket and pulling out a handful of green globes, "peel me a grape, Da...Draco?"

"Certainly," said Draco, taking the fruit from Araminta. "Only the lower wizarding classes eat the peels." Araminta snickered.

Harry, on the other hand, turned pink just like she liked it. "I suppose you've never heard of something called wine, Malfoy?"

"You make grappa from the peels, not wine." Draco cocked his head to one side. "I suppose you've never heard of something called a comb?"

"Argh!" Harry jumped to his feet.

"Wait!" Araminta grabbed him around the leg and held fast. "Don't go away and leave me alone?"

"Hey, what are you insinuating?" Draco blurted, but it had the effect Araminta wanted. Harry reluctantly sat back down on the picnic blanket.

"I'll stay, as long as that jerk doesn't show me his already been chewed (ABC) food. Have some more chicken, Malfoy. It suits you. And if your mouth is full, I don't have to hear you talk since you can't under the ABC rule."

"Bwak bwak bwak," said Malfoy, grinning. He had a little bit of chicken stuck between his teeth.

"Um," said Araminta, making a motion with her hand against her mouth.

Now that they were both suitably embarrassed, Araminta tried to feel them both out. "So, I heard that there was going to be a Quidditch Ball to start off the season. What's that all about?"

"Well," said Harry, "a couple of years ago we had the Tri-Wizard Tournament here, and there was a big Yule Ball, you know, to celebrate. Everybody had such a good time that it's back by popular demand."

"Except this year it will be permissible to come looking like a wretch," Draco put in, smirking.

"Huh?" said Araminta, confused as always.

"What he means," Harry said, his teeth clenched, "is that this year's ball is going to be a costume ball. Everyone has to wear a costume and a mask, and we won't take off the masks until midnight."

"Oh. So, who are you guys going with?" said Araminta.

"Many of us have had to cancel our dates," said Draco, looking bored. "It takes all the fun out of a costume ball if you know who you're dancing with, apparently. So now everyone is working on a disguise, but hinting what it might be to people they want to hook up with--and, on the other hand, people are trying to figure out who is going as what, so they don't hook up with the wrong sort. Wouldn't it be awful to find out that you'd been dancing with Potter all evening?"

Harry couldn't take this anymore. He ground out, "Foretold love, my *(&^&%!" and then took off for the castle.

Araminta used Scourgify to pack away the picnic things. "So," she said airily, "will you be going as an elf or as a Death Eater?"

Draco grabbed her arm. "Don't ever say that. Don't tell anyone that you know which families might be Death Eaters. It could put you in grave danger."

"I was just kidding, Draco," she said, pulling away. His fingers had left a bruise on her fragile skin. "It's between you and me."

Draco's face softened and one eyebrow shot up to his hairline. "Well, given a choice between a Death Eater and an elf, I think I'd choose elf, actually. I'd make a fabulous one, wouldn't I?"

"You have no idea," Araminta muttered to herself.

***

IXL.

The next day Araminta showed up for her classes for the first time since entering the past of Hogwarts. Wouldn't you know it, she had Potions first thing. Would she never be free of Severus Snape and his slimy ways?

"Some of you," he hissed, "think that safety is not important in the Potions laboratory. I am here to tell you that it is, and any horseplay will not only cost you your grade, but will lose you House points. It has come to my attention that someone has been playing around in the lab while I am not here. Be forewarned: If I catch you, it will be your last day at Hogwarts."

This much younger version of Snape pushed back his greasy hair and leaned heavily against his desk. He put his hands over his stomach.

Araminta watched the students around her exchange nervous glances. Millicent Bulstrode leaned over to whisper something to Pansy Parkinson, who shook her head and tried to push her away, but it was too late. "Silence!" he barked. "No one speaks when the teacher is speaking, not even a Slytherin."

Snape swallowed down whatever bile was bothering him and straightened up again. He held up a vial of a sticky, green substance. "Can anyone tell me what this is?"

Araminta heard Ron Weasley whisper "boogers" behind her, and Harry's answering chortle. Across the aisle, Hermione's hand shot up.

Snape sighed. "Anyone?" Finally, he called on her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Inside of the vial is a precisely brewed combination of Asparagusroot and Broccolibane combined with slug slime. The concoction, when taken before one gets out of bed, will reduce or even prevent morning sickness in susceptible witches."

Snape nodded. "Correct, Miss Granger."

Araminta was a little angry. Sure, Hermione was obnoxious, but she should have gotten some points for that.

"Um, Professor?" Araminta raised her hand.

Snape glared at her, but didn't call on her. Araminta swallowed and decided not to push it. After all, she wasn't friends with Snape yet and he looked kind of green. When he came around the room, he paired up Araminta with Hermione, to their mutual distaste.

Hermione was cold and brisk like a chilly day. "Stay here and get the cauldron lit. I'll go and get the ingredients for the Potion."

Araminta lit the cauldron with a flick of her wand. This didn't seem like it was going to be a very good Potions class, if the beginning of class was any indication.

Hermione came back with some of each thing that they needed. "I'll make a julienne out of the Asparagusroot. Can you mash up the stems of the Broccolibane, or should I?"

"I can do it," said Araminta. She grabbed the Broccolibane and began pulling off the stems. She used a mortar and pestle to smash it into a pulp.

"Be careful," snapped Hermione. "You don't want to turn it into Broccolibane juice. It has to be mashed, not a liquid."

"Sorry," muttered Araminta, even though she wasn't. Hermione--her mom--was too much of a perfectionist.

Araminta tried to strike up a conversation with her mom. "So, read any good books lately?"

Hermione just stared at her. "Um, yeah, lots." She gave Araminta a weird look and went back to her Potion.

"Have you ever thought about being a dentist, like your Mom and Dad?" Araminta tried again.

Hermione dropped her knife. "How did you know my parents were dentists?" she asked, looking a little scared.

"Oh, I can't remember. Someone must have told me about it," Araminta lied. That was the biggest lie she'd ever told. The Grangers had cleaned her teeth every year, and she actually sort of liked them. They'd never had to tell her she had a cavity, so maybe that was part of it. Hey, Araminta realized, they're my grandparents!

Hermione interrupted Araminta's thoughts. "Add those in. Now," she said, consulting the chalkboard, "we--I--stir it counterclockwise seven times. There." She poured some into a vial to show to Professor Snape.

"So, you going to Hogsmeade this weekend to get a costume for the Quidditch Ball, or are you going to make it yourself?" Araminta asked.

"Oops, that's us," Hermione said as Professor Snape motioned them to be dismissed. "Got to turn this in, and then get to Arithmancy. See you." She hurried off as if she were happy to get away.

Araminta sighed. If she was going to get her parents together, she was going to have to do better than this.

***

VIIIL.

After Potions, Araminta hurried to the library. She wanted to look up Love Potions, because at the rate things were going, she was going to disappear into the ether.

"Let's see," she said, as she smiled at Madam Pince and slipped around the corner to the Restricted Section. "Lapland Spells, Leotards (Magical), Lubricous Spells For Slippery Sorts...oops, too far."

Araminta backed up, running her fingers over the spines. "Ah, here it is." She pulled a heavy book entitled Love Spells down from the shelf. She quickly opened it to the middle and read the ingredients for a potion: chocolate, cinnamon, essence of heartroot, shavings from a unicorn's horn. She also read the directions by speed-reading, but before she was sure that she had memorized the directions, a face came out of the book and began to scream so loudly she thought her eardrums would burst.

Araminta dropped the book and clapped her hands over her ears. "Ouch."

"Miss Malpot," scolded Madam Pince. "Do you have a note to be in the Restricted Section?"

"Well, no," Araminta admitted. "But I really need to know about--"

"No, you do not need to know about anything in the Restricted Section unless you have a note for it." She snatched the book out of Araminta's hands and plonked it back onto the shelf. "You are required to have a note to read or remove books from the Restricted Section, and you are also required to show it to me before you enter this section. Do you have such a note?"

Araminta grew hot. Of course she didn't, but that was a stupid rule to censor the things she wanted to know. "No, ma'am," she said.

"In that case," Madam Pince leaned down, right close to her nose, "ten points from your Houses--yes, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, Miss Malpot."

"Ten points?" Araminta wailed.

"Yes, ten points," Madam Pince repeated. "And you will report to the library this evening at ten p.m. for a detention. Honestly, there's a sign right there that says no note, no book. Can't anyone around here read?" Grumbling, she toddled back to her desk.

Araminta fumed and steam rose from under her collar. "That's just not fair." Fortunately, Madam Pince didn't hear her, or she might have had another detention. She scooped up her bag and stamped past the other people in the library, gasping loudly when she saw that a few people were eating at one of the tables. She only felt a little bad when she heard Madam Pince yell at Harry for eating chocolate in the library and give him a detention too.

***

VIIL.

After dinner, Araminta took a long hot bath with magical, pink bubbles that smelled like bubble gum and didn't pop until she drained the tub. She missed having Bollocksy around to scrub her back.

Araminta rubbed herself off with a thick, Egyptian cotton towel. She used her wand to style her hair and fix her makeup, then flopped down on her bed. All she wanted was a good night's sleep.

But too bad for her. She had detention.

On the up side, she reflected, she got to have detention with her soulmate. She gathered her reserves of energy and managed to get dressed in an old work robe she found in her closet (just in case Madam Pince gave them a dirty job to do).

Araminta walked into the library at one minute to ten. Madam Pince was tapping her foot and staring at her watch. Harry was already there, looking glum.

"You're...not late," Madam Pince sighed. She looked like she would dearly have liked to give Araminta another detention.

"No, I'm not." Araminta smirked at her. "What do we have to do? I want to get this over with."

"You have to alphabetize all of the books that were returned today, put them in their proper places, and dust all of the shelves." Madam Pince glared at both of them. "If you're not done by midnight, it's another day for the both of you." She pointed one long, bony finger at a cart full of books and stormed out of the library.

Araminta and Harry shared a secret glance, then, when they realized that they were truly alone, they fell into full-blown gales of laughter. "Oh, oh, oh," said Araminta, wiping away a tear. "Did you see the drama?"

"Yeah," laughed Harry. "She's always like that when she thinks someone is going to harm her precious library."

When they could finally stand up straight again, Araminta and Harry inspected the cart full of books. There weren't too many, but it would still take them all night to put them all back on the shelves.

"This sucks," Harry remarked.

Araminta nodded. "But it doesn't have to." She raised her wand. "Alphabetize." The books jumped into the air and fell back down in the right order. "At least this way we don't have to sort them too."

"That was a pretty good idea," said Harry admiringly. "You know as many spells as Hermione."

"Well, it runs in the family," said Araminta before she could remember to stop herself.

Harry gave her a curious look. "What?"

"Um, nothing?" said Araminta. Harry turned his head to the side and looked her up and down. This made Araminta weak in the knees, and she sat down abruptly on the edge of the cart.

"Okay. Want to ride?" Harry nodded at the cart.

A minute later, Harry was pushing Araminta up and down the long rows of books. Araminta put the books in the right places as Harry went along. "This wasn't what I was expecting for a Hogwarts detention."

"Usually they're much harder," noted Harry. "I usually have to do something with Snape, or I get paired up with Draco, the jerk. What sorts of detentions did you have in Japan?"

"Oh, the usual. Scrubbing the floors, washing the windows, writing the rules over and over, that sort of thing," Araminta said. She really had no idea how people were punished in Japan.

When the last book was on the shelf, Harry began pushing the cart really fast. He careened around corners and Araminta squealed and held on really tight. "Careful, careful," she laughed as Harry made silly broomstick noises.

All of a sudden, Harry lost control and the cart tumbled over. Araminta fell to the floor with the cart trapping her underneath.

From far away, she heard Harry shout "Wingardium Leviosa!" and the cart flew away. Harry fell to his knees and gathered her up in his arms. "Oh, can you ever forgive me? I can't believe--I can't believe I did that. If anything ever happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. I'd never forgive myself," he finished, his face serious. He was very pale as if he'd been scared.

"It's all right, not even a scratch," said Araminta, who noticed that Harry's face was very close to hers and that he was still holding her very tightly. "You didn't mean it."

Harry leaned forward, his green eyes glowing with heated passion. "All I want is, is..." He trailed off, suddenly uncertain. "Um, maybe I shouldn't be getting in the way of my destiny."

Before Araminta could talk to Harry any more, they heard feet approaching in the hall and they jumped apart, straightening their robes to hide the evidence. Harry righted the cart and Araminta grabbed a rag and started dusting the shelves with a new fervor.

Madam Pince came in and put her hands on her hips. "Well," she said, "I can see that you've put the books away. Very good. I'll excuse you from the rest, then." She waved them out the door.

Araminta and Harry looked at each other. This was an unexpected surprise. "Thanks, Madam Pince," they said together.

They walked into the hall. "So, you want to go get some cocoa?" asked Araminta.

"I'm not all that thirsty, thanks," said Harry. He looked at her awkwardly, and Araminta noticed that his hair was sticking up in that really cute way. "But, um, maybe I could walk you back to your room?"

"I would be honored to have you walk me back to my room, Harry Potter." Araminta took Harry's arm and let him lead her down through the halls toward her room.

"So, um, did you know that tomorrow is a Hogsmeade day? You can visit the only all-wizard town around and do all sorts of fun things, like get candy at Honeydukes, have a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, get scared at the Shrieking Shack, or go to Zonko's Joke Shop."

"Wow, that sounds like fun," said Araminta. "I had better go too, then, because I need to go shopping for a costume for the Quidditch Ball!"

"What are you going to be?" asked Harry.

Araminta started to say, "It's no fun if you tell," but she heard a strange sound coming from around the next corner so she said "shh" instead and pulled Harry behind a tapestry.

"You can't, you just can't! We should stay close, for the child if nothing else," said one voice.

"I don't think you understand," said the other. "It is not so simple as that. Don't you understand? The child's life would be in danger from Death Eaters. It could not be associated with me at all."

"You're going to keep it, though?"

There was a long pause. "Thank you."

The pattering of little feet came their way, and Harry and Araminta shrank into the shadows. Araminta couldn't help peeking, though, when she heard a person crying. When she looked out from behind the tapestry, she was pretty sure she spotted Pansy running by.

***

VIL.

Araminta closed the door behind Harry and then sank down onto her four-poster bed. Why had Pansy been crying? Who was the child she and the unseen person had been talking about? What was the danger?

There were so many things to think about--her family and its future, Quidditch and the Quidditch Ball, her new relationship with Harry, her place in the space-time continuum...really, it was a wonder she hadn't exploded from all the pressure like a balloon that had too much helium in it.

Araminta was really, really sleepy but she decided to get to work on the Love Potion to use on her parents instead. She set out her cauldron and lit some candles to create a spooky atmosphere. However, she found herself staring into the brilliant flames and she had to blow them out when she realized that they were a distraction and a fire hazard. They left a pleasant vanilla scent in the air.

*flashback*

"Come here, darling." A huge woman with bushy hair picked Araminta up and held her close. "Sweetheart, how Mommy has missed you. It's for the best that I let your daddies raise you, so that you are not confused by too many parents."

The woman smelled like vanilla.

*end flashback*

Araminta almost dropped her cauldron on her foot. Where had that memory come from? She'd never thought about her mom before. She'd never even wondered about her. After all, both witches and wizards could bear children; it just happened that women weren't such big wusses about it so they got pregnant more often.

Did this mean that Hermione had really loved her after all and hadn't wanted to leave her? It still seemed strange to Araminta that Hermione was her mom, but it was starting to make more sense with each passing hour. Araminta was a combination of Hermione and Draco, not Harry and Draco.

Even though Araminta would get to keep Harry as a soulmate, she still felt kind of sad. She'd miss crawling into bed with her dads on stormy nights if she was born to a loving Draco and Hermione. She'd never get to snuggle between them, pretending to be scared and knowing that they saw right through her, until the shafts of lightning and bursts of thunder stopped coming from the sky.

She shook her head and put her cauldron away. She probably shouldn't work on a Love Potion when she was distracted like this. The last thing she needed was to have something else go wrong.

***

VL.

In the morning, Araminta needed an extra strong spell to erase the dark circles from under her eyes. She'd kept having strange dreams from which she would wake up in a cold sweat. They were like memories; her only theory was that her mind was reaching into the alternate future for the new childhood memories she'd need if she grew up with Hermione and Draco for parents instead of Draco and Harry for fathers.

She pushed her waffles back and forth on the plate and chugged a Mountain Dew for energy. Pansy was doing the same with her pancakes, except that she was drinking pumpkin juice and refusing to look at Araminta or anybody else. In contrast, Millicent was eating a sandwich of peanut butter, cheese, and pickles with the crusts on and she washed it down with a big glass of milk. Her complexion was glowing and her hair was thick and shiny, though her expression was as dour as ever.

Draco joined them at last, setting down his breakfast tray (toast, two eggs over easy, a banana, and a big bowl of Frosted Flakes) with a thump.

"So, who's going to kick it with me in Hogsmeade today? I have tickets to the Trollish Ballet." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Very expensive, but we Malfoys have a box."

Pansy and Millicent exchanged glances. "We have to work on our costumes for the Quidditch Ball, so we're going shopping," they said.

Draco turned to Araminta and gray eyes met grey-green. "How about you, Minta? Do you have to go shopping too?"

"No, my costume is complete already," lied Araminta. "I love the Trollish Ballet! I'd love to go to the ballet with you, Draco."

Araminta got a devilishly romantic idea. "Hey Draco, would it be cool with you if I took my ticket now, for safekeeping? Then, I could go shopping with the girls and meet you at the theater for the ballet."

"Sure," said Draco, handing Araminta the ticket in a fancy envelope. "Don't be late!"

Pansy butted in. "Actually, Araminta, Millicent and I have ordered our costumes from Diagon Alley, so we won't need to go costume shopping. You go on ahead."

"Oh, okay." Araminta wasn't really all that disappointed. She didn't like hanging around with Pansy and Millicent that much, and it would be easier to put her romantic plan into action without them hanging around and nosing in.

***

IVL.

Araminta bundled up tightly in a cloak, scarf, and gloves that she borrowed from Draco (so of course they were too big for her, and she had to Transfigure them to fit). Even though it was only the first weekend in September it was bitterly cold and a strange, icy storm had blown in. Icicles hung down from the eaves of the roof and almost touched the ground. The world outside was transformed into a winter wonderland.

Even though she had a job to do, Araminta couldn't help getting involved in a snowball fight. People had built big walls of snow to hide behind, and a few scattered snowmen stood guard in between (although their heads were rapidly being diminished by the onslaught of ice missiles).

The Creevey brothers tried to put snow down Araminta's shirt, but she dispatched them with a handy judo move that Harry had taught her. He'd said that he had used it against someone named Dudley who was as big as a whale, so Araminta was pleased that it put the boys, who were no bigger than gnats, face first into the snow. They took it good-naturedly and invited Araminta to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, which was a reminder to Araminta that she really needed to get going if she was going to shop and put her romantic plan into action before the end of the day.

Araminta used a drying and warming charm to make her cloak toasty, then set off for the village of Hogsmeade. The snow swirled around and over the tops of her boots, and her feet got squishy inside them, but she hurried along anyway. There was so much to do!

When she got to the main street of Hogsmeade, Araminta couldn't help peeking in the windows of Zonko's Joke Shop, Madam Puddifoot's, and Honeyduke's. She felt her mouth water when she glimpsed the enchanted chocolates, Fizzing Whizbees, and sherbet lemons that were arranged in an attractive display that resembled a Quidditch match in the front of the store.

"Oh yeah," Araminta remembered. "I need to shop for something for the Quidditch Ball. I wonder what I should be," she mused aloud.

Suddenly, she saw a figure come out of the falling snow with its head bent down in sorrow or despair. This was it! Araminta's big chance! She hurried forward to meet the big bushy head of Hermione.

"Hey, Mo--um, hey Hermione," she said, stepping directly into Hermione's path.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked coldly.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping together. You know, maybe we could bond, spend money, have a butterbeer, gossip..."

"That doesn't sound like my idea of a very good time," said Hermione in an icy voice. "Really, I'd just like to get my errands done and get back to the castle. If you'd just let me pass--"

"I'm sorry!" Araminta yelled suddenly. She had to stop Hermione from going on her merry way. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted all these years."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it does seem like I've known you for years. It also feels like I've been standing about in the snow for years, and if I don't get inside soon I'll probably get frostbite, which I will have to blame on you. Now, if you please," said Hermione, "could you let me pass?"

When Hermione tried to step around Araminta, she found her path blocked.

"I have a very important question to ask you, actually," Araminta said quickly. "I can't think of a better person to ask."

"Fine. What is it?" Hermione snapped. "Hurry up! I'm freezing!"

"Well, um, do you have a mom?" said Araminta.

"Of course I have a mom," said Hermione. "Is that all?"

"No, actually," said Araminta. "Could you tell me about her?"

"My mom is a dentist, like my dad. She's a Muggle, and she doesn't know much about being a witch. She takes me to France in the summers. She doesn't worry about me too much, and she's rather brilliant, in my opinion," said Hermione.

"So would you--would you want to be a mom someday?" said Araminta. "Are you going to have kids with anyone?"

Hermione turned a blushing shade of red. "Well...I...I suppose I would have children with the right man. I don't just want to have babies for nothing, you know. I want to be in love," she said.

"Me too," Araminta agreed. "So, if you wanted to have babies, what kind of guy would you want to have them with?"

"Well, I should be in love, obviously. Married would be the best, don't you agree?" Hermione's voice grew softer. "I'd want to have children with someone who made my blood boil with anger and passion and dedication, that's who I'd want to have children with."

Araminta nodded. She knew that Draco could make your blood boil; he had a way of finding the very thing to make you fierce. "And if you...if you had to have a daughter, what would you want her to be like?"

Hermione's face got a dreamy expression on it. "I'd want her to have his silky blond hair, his stormy eyes...I'd want her to sing like a phoenix and love like a swan: for life," she answered with a gentle smile.

"So you'd want her to be something like me?" asked Araminta.

Hermione laughed a cold laugh that put a splinter of ice right through Araminta's tender heart. "Whatever. Are we done playing twenty questions? Like I said, I have errands to run and I'm kind of cold."

"Okay." Araminta rummaged in her pocket, feeling cold even though she had on a magically heated cloak. "Um, I was going to see the Trollish Ballet today, but I don't really feel like it anymore. Would you like the ticket? I heard the seat is supposed to be pretty good."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "The Trollish Ballet? You'd give me your ticket, even though I...well, I haven't been very nice, have I?" she asked.

Araminta couldn't think of anything nice to say so she decided to be the bigger person and not say anything at all. "Take it." She pressed the ticket into Hermione's palm, then stepped back and watched Hermione practically skip across the snow to the theater.

A hot butterbeer warmed Araminta right up, and from the window of The Three Broomsticks, she could see the front of the theater and not freeze to death. At intermission, Hermione came running out the front doors of the theater, sobbing. A second later, Draco followed her out, stopping on the steps to look after her retreating form.

"Back to the drawing board," said Araminta, swigging the last of her butterbeer. Maybe shopping would go better than this morning had.

***

IIIL.

Araminta briefly considered reading Draco's mind to see what had happened between him and Hermione, but in the end she decided that the expression of hurt and longing on his face when he had watched Hermione walk away told her everything she needed to know about Hermione and Draco's date at the Trollish Ballet.

The least she could have done was drop her ticket in the street so Araminta could use it to see the second act. But no, Hermione had to break her father's heart and storm off dramatically.

This just intensified Araminta's desire to have a great time at the Quidditch Ball and to make sure that her mom and dad met, fell in love, and decided to have a baby...her.

There was so much wonderful shopping in Hogsmeade. First, Araminta went into Honeyduke's and sampled the Fizzing Whizbees. They made her feel a little giddy. She had a piece of Lemon Warhead gum, a long rope of red licorice, two pixie sticks, and a blue raspberry Blow Pop before she ventured back outside, sucking on a giant red-and-white-striped candy cane.

When Araminta was opening the door, Ron Weasley tried to get in. He stepped on her foot, making her hop up and down in pain. "Ouch," she cried, rubbing it to make the pain go away.

"Um, sorry," said Ron, looking very ashamed of himself.

"You'll have to forgive him," said a pretty girl with big blue eyes and sandy-colored braids. She smiled a wide smile that showed all of her white teeth that were even without braces. "He's such a klutz."

Ron turned red around the ears. "You take that back, Sarah Michelle. I hardly ever step on anyone. I just couldn't see her!"

"The door has a glass window in it, honey. You would have noticed if you'd taken your eyes off me for just a second," said Sarah Michelle. She kissed Ron on the cheek. "Now go on and get your candy so that we can go to the costume shop."

"I, um, have my costume done," Ron whined. "I hate shopping for things to wear. I had to go shopping with Ginny and my mum once, and it almost killed me."

Sarah Michelle rolled her eyes. "I suppose I could meet you at The Three Broomsticks later and let you off the hook for now." She gave Araminta a look that clearly said men are so boring, sometimes. Then she winked.

Araminta giggled. She could tell that Ron really liked Sarah Michelle because he kept his arm around her and was running his hand up and down her side, tickling it a little. Sarah Michelle also liked Ron back, because she slipped her arm around his waist and put her hand in his back pocket.

"Bye, honey," Sarah Michelle said, giving Ron a kiss with a little bit of tongue.

"Bye, Sarah Michelle," said Ron, and then he ran toward the Laffy Taffys.

"Boys are so silly sometimes, don't you agree?" Sarah Michelle asked Araminta.

"Definitely," Araminta replied as she watched Ron scoop up handfuls of candy in glee.

"So, are you out shopping all by yourself?" asked Sarah Michelle.

"Um, yeah." Araminta laughed nervously. "Yeah, I need to find a costume for the Quidditch Ball, actually. That's my next stop."

"Me too!" exclaimed Sarah Michelle. "So, do you want to go shopping together?"

"That sounds peachy," said Araminta, a big smile widening on her face.

The two linked arms and left Ron behind in Honeyduke's.

***

IIL.

Araminta and Sarah Michelle strolled up and down the snowy streets, enjoying iced frappucinos from Madam Puddifoot's. There was a special charm on the coffee that would let the drinker have as much as they wanted and not get cold, so the girls each got a double tall with whipped cream on top.

"Mmm," said Sarah Michelle, licking a fleck of whipped cream off of her lip and then choking. "I hate it when I accidentally forget to swallow!"

Araminta giggled and nearly spat out some of the bitter brew. "You must have some sort of drinking problem, then," she joked. "Liquids go down, otherwise you might end up with it coming out of your nose!"

The two girls flopped down on a bench and laughed until they were practically blue in the face.

"So, tell me a little about yourself," Araminta said to Sarah Michelle.

"Well," Sarah Michelle began, "I'm in your year, but I'm a Ravenclaw. My dad's a wizard and my mom's a Muggle, so I'm a half-blood but only the stupid Slytherins seem to care about that."

"Hey, I'm a Slytherin--well, I'm half Slytherin--and I don't care," Araminta said hotly.

Sarah Michelle patted Araminta on the shoulder. "Well, you don't count. You're cooler than the average Slytherin jerk," she said teasingly. "Don't get your panties in a knot."

"Oh, they're just fine," Araminta said, before she caught on that Sarah Michelle wasn't serious. "Oh, you. Come on, now."

"Oh, oh, oh," Sarah Michelle cried. "You're so good. Anyway, I'm president of the Charms club, I enjoy riding horses, going out with my friends, and shopping. Oh yeah, and I enjoy Ron Weasley, from time to time. We're going to the Quidditch Ball together, which is why I need a costume to wear. But enough about me. Let's talk about you."

Araminta sipped her iced frappucino to stall for time. She decided to tell the truth since it was stranger than fiction. "Well, growing up, I lived with my dads, but I just found out that I have a mom and a dad. My mom's Muggleborn, and my dad's pureblood. I'm going to try to convince them to get back together. I mostly enjoy doing magic, but I enjoy riding horses and singing too. And I like to eat waffles a lot. Oh, and play Quidditch. It's one of my greatest passions." She smiled. "There's nothing like winging through the air on a broomstick and trying to avoid all those balls flying at you! It's dangerous, I swear!"

Sarah Michelle nodded. "It frightens me to see Ron going at it. You'll never get me on a broomstick for that very reason. I'm surprised that you like it, Araminta. You don't seem like a Quidditch-playing sort of girl."

"That's my dads' influence, really. I don't know if I would have played it on my own. But my dads were great Quidditch players in their time, and they could play professionally if they wanted to. Oh, shoot!" Araminta accidentally spilled some of her iced frappucino down her cloak. "Why am I always getting stuff all over me?"

"Because you don't get out of the way fast enough?" Sarah Michelle helped Araminta perform the cleaning charm and the drying charm and then took their used cups to the trash can. "I guess it's an omen. It's time to get shopping!"

***

IL.

Sarah Michelle held tight to Araminta's hand and tugged her into Cachalot and Caboodle's Costumes For All Occasions. "I'm sure that they'll have something we can wear in here! They have the widest selection of costumes in the wizarding world, according to the sign outside."

Araminta looked around. This was probably true; she'd never seen so many costumes in one place in her life. She could hardly see the back of the store, and Hogwarts students were running this way and that, half in and half out of various disguises.

"What do you think we should be?" asked Araminta.

A spooky voice came from behind them, and Araminta and Sarah Michelle turned around to look at the owner of Cachalot and Caboodle's. "Ladies, welcome, welcome. In response to your question, dear, the costume chooses the wizard. When you try the right one, you will know." The wizard turned his spooky eyes toward the shoppers. "However, far be it from me to get the in way of a little fun. I think the shoppers enjoy trying on the different costumes. Please speak to me if you require any further assistance." The wizard bowed to them and backed away.

"Okay, this is it!" Sarah Michelle grabbed Araminta's hand in anticipation. "On three! One, two, three!"

They ran toward the girls' side of the store. There were thousands upon thousands of costumes. "How will we ever decide?" wondered Araminta. "How will the costume know to pick me?"

Sarah Michelle picked up a hideous costume that looked like something Lil' Kim might wear. "What do you think of this?" she asked.

"I think you'd be awfully cold," Araminta replied truthfully. "All your naughty bits would show."

"But Ron would sure like it," Sarah Michelle said, grinning. She took a last, wistful look at the costume and put it back on the rack. "Hey, what about this one?"

"Hm, can you do a southern accent?" Araminta looked at the silver lamé dress. It laced up the back and had huge hoop skirts, lots of lace, and a matching parasol.

"Ah think ah cain," drawled Sarah Michelle. "But I also think that I'd have to dance about twelve feet away from Ron if I wore this. What else is here?"

Araminta looked around at the racks. There were plenty of things she didn't want to be; she hoped the costumes didn't want to choose her. It would be horrible to go to the Quidditch Ball dressed as a clown or a hobo.

"What about this?" she said, holding up a shiny black costume. As she did, it began to float up into the air and come off the hanger.

"What's happening to it?" asked Sarah Michelle. "And, hey, those are my robes!"

Sarah Michelle's robes had unbuttoned themself and flown into a neat pile on the floor. The costume of black leather unzipped and wrapped itself lovingly around Sarah Michelle's trim form, molding to her curves. From some other part of the store, a velvety pair of cat's ears, a tail on a little belt, and a black half-mask flew to Sarah Michelle to complete the costume.

"Hey, look at you," exclaimed Araminta, turning Sarah Michelle toward the nearest mirror. "Meow!"

"Wow, I do look really sexy," said Sarah Michelle as she admired her reflection. "But what about you?"

Araminta remembered that she needed a costume too. She started browsing through the racks again, wishing and hoping that something good would come her way.

"Here's a good one!" Sarah Michelle held up an angel costume. Araminta took it, but the wings didn't do anything and the halo stayed on the hanger.

"Huh," said Sarah Michelle. "Let's try this again. Ready, change!" She whipped a harem girl costume off the rack, and it wiggled a few times before going limp again. "Ooh, we must be getting close!" Sarah Michelle said, swinging her cat tail around with one hand.

"Oh, this is pretty," Araminta said, reaching toward a green and gold velvet dress like the one the princess wore in Shrek, but before she could touch it, another dress leaped off the rack and her robes began to fall away.

A red satin dress with a deep V in the back came softly against Araminta's skin. A red wig settled itself on her head and a glittery, sequined half-mask covered her from eyebrows to just beneath her nostrils.

"Oh, you're a courtesan, like Satine from Moulin Rouge," cried Sarah Michelle, clapping her hands.

Araminta held her hands away from herself and spun before the three-way mirror. She knew she made a stunning sight and that she was going to be the belle of the ball.

As Araminta and Sarah Michelle walked out of Cachalot and Caboodles with their costumes in dressbags, they turned to each other and made a solemn vow not to tell anyone else what their costumes were going to be on pain of death. They knew that neither would break it; they were already fast friends.