The Winterscapes

The Winterscapes - Chapter Nine

Draco dumped the contents of his rucksack out on his bed and filled it back up with the things he needed for an afternoon homework session in the library: his Arithmancy textbook, two rolls of parchment, a quill, a bottle of ink and, to keep it safe, his journal. One of the rolls of parchment contained his plans for his Arithmancy term project. Most of his professors gave exams at the end of the term, but advanced students of elective classes, like seventh year Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, had to do complicated, practical projects.

The library was deserted except for Madam Pince at the front desk, a table of Ravenclaws in the Transfiguration section, and Hermione Granger, who was an almost permanent fixture in the library's south corner. She sat on a wing-backed chair, the green velvet upholstery of which was worn through in patches, and had stacks of books and parchments spread out on the oak table before her. Draco glanced her way and then wandered through the bookshelves, gathering several large Arithmancy texts and one book about Animagus transformations. He considered sitting somewhere by himself between the dusty stacks, but he was not one to give up a perfectly good opportunity for Gryffindor-baiting, so he sat down on one of the empty chairs around the table in Granger's corner. Her eyes flickered up at him and then went back down to her book.

Draco glanced at the book's cover. "You're not reading A Guide to the Universe: Advanced Arithmantic Equations, are you?

She scowled at the interruption. "Yes, why?"

"Well I need to use it for my project."

"You do not."

"Do so." He didn't really, but he wondered if she would give it to him.

"I don't believe you. What are you doing for your project?"

Draco was inordinately pleased. He was hoping he would have the chance to tell her about it because he knew she would be impressed, but he didn't want to bring it up unless she asked, or else she would know that he wanted to tell her. "I'm using the Chaldean system to calculate the probability of different animals being my Animagus transformation. I'm going to have to figure out the positions of the planets, as I need the numbers to correspond to the different sets the Chaldeans divided their alphabet into, so I talked Sinistra into giving me extra credit in Astronomy. Binns is also giving me extra credit for bothering to learn about the Chaldeans. Oh--and McGonagall, for learning about Animagus transformations."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "You're getting extra credit in three other classes for your Arithmancy term project?"

"That's what I said," he smirked.

"That was clever," she admitted. "But sorry, I'm using this book. You can read it when I'm done."

Draco shrugged, opened Early Chaldean Arithmancy to the first chapter, "The Chaldean Alphabet," and began reading and scribbling notes on his blank parchment. An hour later when he had finished going through the first two chapters, he stood up to stretch his legs and noticed Hermione was writing in a book, a small blue book.

"Are you keeping a diary, Granger?"

"If I was I wouldn't write in it while I'm sitting next to you."

"Ouch, that hurt," Draco clutched his hands in front of his heart. "What are you writing then?"

"None of your business. Do you keep a diary?"

"No, of course not," Draco lied. "And if I did, I would call it a journal, not a diary. Diaries are what girls write in about their lovesick drivel."

"You probably have lovesick drivel oozing out your ears when no one's looking, Malfoy."

"I have a girlfriend, remember?"

"If I wanted a boyfriend I could have one," Hermione said.

"Yeah, Wonder Boy or the sidekick."

"I'm trying to work, do you mind?"

<><><><><>

On Friday afternoons the Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh years had Apparation lessons with Madam Hooch. At the beginning of the term they had met in a classroom where Hooch lectured on the theory of Apparation. A few days ago, however, Professor Flitwick had cast a series of charms around the Quidditch pitch that allowed for site-to-site Apparation. This week, for the first time, the class met outside on the Quidditch pitch where the first snowflakes of the season were starting to fall on the cold ground. They were going to practice Apparating. Draco had seen his parents Apparate often enough. He was quite confident that he could do it on his first try, especially after all of Hooch's lectures and the Thursday nights spent reading the Apparation text for class the next day. He almost felt sorry for anyone who couldn't do it; it would be that embarrassing.

"You will each Apparate from one end of the Quidditch pitch to the other," Madam Hooch said to the assembled students. "As long as you pay attention to what you are doing, there is only a small chance of an accident when Apparating such a short distance. Now, are you all ready?"

The class nodded.

"Good. You will go one at a time, in alphabetical order, I think. Mr. Baddock, you are first."

Ian took his wand out of his sleeve, said the incantation, and easily Apparated to the other end of the pitch.

"Well done, Mr. Baddock!" Hooch called to him. "Let's hope that the rest of you do as well. Miss Brown, you're next."

Lavender looked slightly more nervous than Ian did, but she Apparated without a problem. The first and only accident occurred predictably when it was Neville Longbottom's turn. When he Disapparated he left his right ear and his left arm behind, hanging in the air. He reappeared on the other side of the pitch, whimpering pathetically and clutching with his one arm at his head where his ear should have been.

"Mr. Longbottom, you must pay attention! This is what happens, class, when you let your nerves get the best of you!" Madam Hooch said sternly. She reattached Neville's body parts with two quick spells and announced that it was Draco's turn.

When he Disapparated it felt like his body was dissolving around the edges and he was coming loose, painless but still strange--and then he reappeared an instant later next to everyone who had already had their turn. Apparating looked like a pop but it felt like a stream--a blurry, stretched out, black second where his body followed his mind's wishes to be present across the pitch. So that's what it feels like, then. He thought.

<><><><><>

Saturday morning, after breakfast and Quidditch practice, found Draco in the library once again. Hermione Granger was surprisingly not in her corner, so Draco sat in the chair she habitually claimed. He stifled a smile when she showed up, as he knew she would.

"Malfoy. You're in my seat."

He didn't budge. "Who says it's your seat?"

"I say so. I always sit there."

"Cry me a river." He pointed to one of the two empty chairs. "Sit there."

She sighed and rolled her eyes and dropped her book bag on the oval table, but she did sit down where Draco had pointed. And promptly pulled out her books and started working.

Maybe I really am annoying her. Draco thought. Of course she could work somewhere else if she really wanted to.

Hermione tugged on a strand of messy hair while she read.

"So," Draco said. "How's life in Gryffindor Tower? Word around the halls is that the Golden Trio's having a fight."

Hermione put her book down. "How do you know that?"

"So it's true then?" There were possibilities if Hermione was angry at Potty and the Weasel, very interesting possibilities.

"Answer my question first."

"I told you, it's going around. The Hogwarts rumor mill is a complex system of paintings, students, and professors. Some even say the walls can--"

"Yes, yes, I get the picture," Hermione interrupted. "For your information, there was no fight. Ron and I are mad at Harry, but it's none of your business."