Sugar and Spice

"This is never going to work, Malfoy, McGonagall will start her round any minute now!"

"If you want to chicken out, Lestrange, then by all means, go back to bed."

"I didn't say that! All I want to know is how you're planning to get by her!"

The blond boy smirked. "We won't have to."

"What?" That was Crabbe, monosyllabic as ever.

Lucius gave them a superior look. "She'll be late tonight, so we won't have any problems sneaking out. Once we're out the main gate, nothing will stop us from getting down to the lake. The girls should be there by then, as should the Ravenclaws we've invited."

"And they'll have brought the food, right?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Yes, Goyle, they will, just as I've told you at least three dozen times by now."

Goyle seemed unfazed by the reprimand. "Just making sure."

Lestrange, however, wouldn't be silenced so easily. "How can you know that McGonagall will be late tonight? She never is!"

"Because", Lucius answered haughtily, "I've left a bunch of fifty red roses on her doorstep, together with a letter that should give her pause for a while."

"Where did you get fifty red roses?"

Lucius rolled his eyes again. It was no easy lot to be surrounded by idiots, even if it gave him the advantage over them. "I transfigured them from toothpicks, Goyle. It's called magic, remember?"

"What's in the letter?" At least, Lestrange was asking slightly more intelligent questions.

Lucius grinned. "A very poetic confession of undying love by someone who has admired her from afar for years and is too shy to approach her."

"Ew." Crabbe shook his head. Goyle, however, seemed impressed. "She'll spend ages trying to figure out who it is from!"

Even Lestrange was smirking. "Love letter, eh? That must be a first for the old spinster - but won't she recognize your handwriting?"

"For Merlin's sake, give me a little credit!" Lucius was about to lose his patience with these imbeciles. "I made a house-elf copy it for me. They're only prohibited from doing our homework, and elf writing can't be traced back magically like human handwriting. Happy now?"

"It seems you've thought of everything." Finally, there was grudging respect in Lestrange's voice. About time, too.

"Quiet now! We're almost there, just around the corner and then through the gate..."

"Lumos!"

Blinking in the sudden bright light, the boys stopped dead. It would have been too late to run anyway, because they were already face to face with their transfiguration teacher.

"Out for a little stroll, gentlemen? Would you care to explain what you are doing here after hours?"

Lucius swallowed. "Professor, we - well, we were just..."

"...looking for a detention?" McGonagall's voice was icily calm. "In this case, I'm happy to inform you that your quest was successful. Let's make it a week of detention and, between the four of you, eighty points from Slytherin, shall we? And now get back to your dormitories - but I'd like a word with you before you leave, Mr Malfoy."

When the others were out of earshot, McGonagall gave Lucius a thin-lipped smile. "I'd thank you for the roses, Mr Malfoy; they're quite a fine demonstration of your transfiguration skills. In seventh year, you are going to learn how to identify a wizard's magical signature in any object he has transfigured - but until then, I suggest that you refrain from sending me any more flowers. Besides", she added, seemingly oblivious to the furious blush on Lucius' face, "no more letters either, please. Frankly, your prose is somewhat too purplish for my taste."