Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy

Chapter 5 - Turning Over a New Leaf

With the exception of Camilia's accidentally burning a hole through one of Professor Sprout's workbenches, her first magic lesson was relatively uneventful. Hermione repaired the workbench with a simple spell, and Camilia's embarrassment subsided when she saw Dean do almost the same thing; he had also apparently not realized that the sap from a Scrugulus Masonis had a tendency to burst into flames when it came into contact with either wood or paper.

Harry, Ron and Hermione pointed Camilia to Care of Magical Creatures while they headed to their Advanced Potions class, and Ron, glancing back toward Hagrid's hut, said quietly to Harry, "She's something, isn't she?"

Though he'd not meant for Hermione to hear him, heard she had. "Is that all boys ever think about? How attractive a girl is? What about admiring her brains or her sense of humor or -"

"What makes you think I was talking about how attractive Camilia is? Couldn't I have been commenting on her sense of humor? How do you even know I was talking about her? I could have been talking about what a fine teacher Professor Sprout is, couldn't I?" demanded Ron.

"Well, were you?" demanded Hermione.

"I - well, no, but - I could have been!" retorted Ron, angry at having been caught.

"I think she's brilliant," said Hermione. "Perhaps she should have read about Scrugulus sap more carefully, but nonetheless, she's got a great mind. See? I don't have to go on about how good looking she is," she huffed.

Ron turned to Harry directly and said under his breath, "Well, she wouldn't, would she?" Harry chuckled, and the three continued to Potions.

That night, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Camilia were sitting together in the Common Room, discussing their Charms homework. Even Hermione had been staggered by Camilia's ability to correctly put out a small fire on her first try, and even more astonished by the fact that the water with which Camilia had put out the fire had come from her hands rather than a wand.

"Do you think you could produce the water without saying the incantation?" she inquired of Camilia.

"I don't know, I've never tried. Shall we see?" she asked, and without further ado she thrust her hands toward the Common Room fire ten feet away. A powerful jet of water seemed to spring from her hands, dousing the fire immediately, and, to the great amusement of the older Gryffindors, drenching a small group of second years in the line of fire. "Oops," said Camilia. "I think it's time for me to hit the sack, what about you, Hermione?"

"I'll be up to join you momentarily."

Camilia rose from her seat, stifling a giggle as she glanced over her shoulder at the second years wringing themselves out, and then made her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Hermione waited until she'd left the room, and a wide grin spread across her face as she addressed the two boys. "Brilliant," she said, and then loaded her book bag, slung it over her shoulder, and raced off toward the dormitories above.

"Well," ventured Ron as he, too, collected his books, preparing to retire, "I have mixed feelings about all this, I must say."

"Mixed feelings about what?" asked Harry.

"Camilia and Hermione. I'm glad that Hermione's finally got herself a girlfriend, but equally as terrified that you and I are in for it, Harry." And with that, he also headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, leaving Harry alone to contemplate the consequences that Camilia's presence might yet have on his, Ron and Hermione's threesome of friends. When he reached the same conclusion Ron had come to, Harry went off to bed.

* * * * * * * *

The weekend had been more or less uneventful; Ron, Harry, and Hermione had shown Camilia about the school, helped her to complete some of her first year homework (with not a few grumbles from Camilia at having been made to cover remedial coursework), practiced various spells with one another, and just generally spent their time filling in Camilia on all that intricacies of life at Hogwarts and in the wizarding community.

When Monday arrived and it came time for Camilia to go on her own to her first year History of Magic class, she again bemoaned her remedial fate. "This is ridiculous! I could read the book cover to cover and get more out of it than I ever could listening to that Binns ghost drone on and on! At least if I was in our year's History of Magic, I could hang out with you guys. Instead, I get to sit around with a bunch of gossipy first years who don't even pretend not to be talking about me!"

"That may well be true, Camilia, but you do get to have Professor Dumbledore as your private tutor this evening. I'd give my left arm for what he could teach," remarked Hermione.

"Yeah, that's great and all, if you want to learn to, I don't know, conjure butterflies," replied Camilia, ignoring the horrified faces of her friends, "but do you have any idea how irritating it is to be talked about by a gaggle of eleven year-olds while you sit there? And they're all terrified of me!"

"They're not terrified," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yeah?" scoffed Camilia. "Watch this." With that, she snuck up behind a group of first year Ravenclaws standing nearby, then leaned over into the group and said simply, "Boo." The Ravenclaws scattered, screaming. Camilia ambled back over to Harry, Ron and Hermione with a look of "I-told-you-so" pasted on her face.

"It's just an hour," said Hermione hopefully.

"And if it gets too unbearable, do what I do in History of Magic," Ron interjected. "Take a nap. Can't beat it for an after-breakfast snooze!"

They all laughed and waved their goodbyes as Harry, Ron and Hermione went off to sixth year Astronomy and Camilia set out for Binns' class. Surprisingly, Camilia found that no one was discussing her in History of Magic; it seemed that the Ravenclaws had spread that word that she was not above scaring the wits out of the first years, so the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years present were absolutely silent during class and would not even allow themselves a glance in her direction on the off chance she might perhaps turn them to stone with her bare hands. As a result, she found that Ron was right: History of Magic was the ideal place for a post-breakfast nap.

Camilia was awakened by the sound of chair legs scraping against stone floor and forgot for a moment where she was. She looked around at the multitude of eleven year-olds heading for the door, and scooped up her book bag, which she'd opened, but from which she'd never bothered to retrieve her textbook. She shook her head once to clear it from the stupor left by her nap and made for the door, looking back over her shoulder to try to ascertain if she'd left anything behind...and then she slammed headlong into something, not paying attention to where she was going, and fell backward onto the floor, dropping her book bag, its contents spilling onto the floor around her. "I'm - I'm sorry," she said without looking up. "I wasn't paying..." and her voice trailed off as she looked into the handsome face of a tall blond boy.

"Attention?" he finished for her.

"Oh, right," she concluded. "Sorry about that."

"Hand up?" he asked her, and she nodded, so he grasped her hand with his and helped to hoist her back to a standing position. She stooped again to finish collecting her books when he stopped her. "No, please, allow me," he drawled, and with a flick of his wand, all her books flew into the air and landed softly into her book bag. "I wasn't paying any attention, myself. Sorry about that."

"No, it's okay, I -"

"The name's Draco Malfoy," he said by way of introduction.

"Oh. Yeah. Nice to meet you, Draco, I'm -"

"Camilia Pritchard, I know. Of the pureblooded Boston wizarding family, last of the line," he interrupted.

"Wow. What, you want an autograph or something?" she snapped, not knowing whether to be flattered or frustrated.

"Excuse me?" asked Draco, trying to hold back his rage at her rudeness.

"No...excuse me...I'm sorry, it's just so strange to have all these people know things about me that I didn't know myself until, like, ten minutes ago. So, you've heard of Boston?"

"Been there, actually. It's been a few years now, but my family and I have traveled extensively. We'd actually gone to visit Salem; historical significance, you know."

"Oh, right. Well...I'd better be getting to my next class. Draco, right?"

"Yes. Can I - can I walk you there?" he asked, his eyes alight with something dark and sexy.

"Yeah, but...didn't you need to talk to Binns or something?" she wondered aloud to him.

"Oh, no, I just thought I'd left something in here." Draco peered around the door, made a quick, cursory sweep of the room, and then said, "I was wrong. So, then, where to?"

"Don't you have a class or something right now?" she asked.

"I do, but I've been looking for a reason to skive off it; I hate Care of Magical Creatures," he answered.

"Yeah, me too...if Hagrid weren't teaching it, I'd ditch it daily."

"Oh, yeah," said Draco, unsure how to respond to Camilia's obvious affinity for Hagrid. "So, like I said, where are we going?"

"Basic Arithmancy," said Camilia. "More adventures among the first years." She paused for a moment. "Hey, if you're planning on ditching Creatures anyway, maybe I'll skip Arithmancy, too, and you can tell me more about your trip to Salem. It'd be nice to talk to someone who knows where I'm coming from when I talk about Boston, anyway."

Draco smiled; the first leg of his plan had come off flawlessly, just as he'd expected it would. "Certainly. And I know just the place to go in order not to be caught. There's this room on the seventh floor; it's called the Room of Requirement..." And off they went, chatting about this and that, Draco using every ounce of charm he could muster, and Camilia trying to calm the flip-flops her stomach made every time he looked her in the eye.

* * * * * * * *

"Malfoy?" stammered Ron when they were back in the Common Room that evening. "Why on earth would you want to spend time with that prat?" he asked in disbelief.

"What are you talking about? He wasn't bad at all. In fact, he was fascinating, we had loads in common, and he's pretty hot," stated Camilia.

"Malfoy?" blurted an incredulous Harry while Ron made retching noises. "You think Draco Malfoy is attractive?"

"Why not?" demanded Camilia, suddenly becoming irritable.

"I could see it," shrugged Hermione. "Not my type, of course, and a total prat, obviously, but if you like blondes...besides, I've seen him be charming before. Never with me, or any of us, for that matter, but if he wanted to -"

"Wanted to get under your skirt!" Ron cried.

"It wasn't like that, Ron," Camilia protested. "He was really nice, and we just talked about Boston, where I'm from, and he told me about visiting Salem, and that's where my forebears were from, so I was interested. Cut him some slack; it's not like he tried to molest me or anything!"

"But he - I can't believe - you can't - argh!" yelled Ron, who threw up his hands. "I - I can't talk about this anymore! Hermione, tell me about something useless and inane that you read in Hogwarts: A History or something. My brain is on overload."

"Useless and inane?" quoted Hermione. "Ron! How could you say that! That book is not useless and -"

"I think I've had enough for tonight, thank you very much. I'm going to bed," said Camilia. "Goodnight, Harry, goodnight, Hermione, and Ron..." She paused. "Grow up." And with that, she stormed up the stairs to the girls' dorms.

"Grow up?" he yelled after her. "Grow up?" Ron was beside himself. "I'm not the one who went frolicking with Draco Malfoy today! Grow up."

"You're just mad that she's not attracted to you, Ron," Hermione interjected. She knew when she saw the look on his face that that was not the right thing to have said just then. Ron was turning absolutely purple with rage.

"If-I-open-my-mouth-I'll-never-be-able-to-forgive-myself-for-what-I'd-say-so-I'm-going-up-to-bed-right-now, damn-it!" Ron, too, stormed up the stairs to the dormitories.

"Shouldn't've said that just then, should I?" mumbled Hermione. "Probably won't be talking to either of us tomorrow, will he?"

"I wouldn't count on it," concluded Harry.

"Seriously, though, Malfoy may be a prat, but I can see the attraction. He can be charming, when he wants too, he's rich, he's handsome, he's powerful...And maybe he likes her. Maybe he's trying harder because he's interested?" she surmised.

Harry contemplated this for a moment. "Or, maybe he's got something up his sleeve. Can't imagine Malfoy turning over a new leaf." He and Hermione looked at each other a long moment, and when he realized she had no more to say, he ventured, "Potions homework?"