The Inner Darkness

Chapter 3: Never Forget a Heart and a Hand

"Come on, do you really think you have a shot at me?" drifted a familiar voice.

Sora crossed his arms and watched the scene on the beach from below. Clouds raced overhead, blowing across the sky with a surrealistic quality as the wind whipped his bushy, brown hair and tickled his lips. Stretching out from the sand, gentle waves of teal green water spanned as far as the eye could see, eventually kissing the distant, blue skies.

There was nothing he liked better than relaxing on the ledge of his favorite cliff, overseeing the beach and all those upon it. His azure eyes deepened with pleasure as a pair of sea gulls danced in the air before him, consumed in their own playful jig. He wanted nothing more than to spread his arms and fly after them, waltzing gently in the beautiful day.

"You're going down!" Snapped a belligerent boy whom Sora knew well.

Sora looked down again to the pearly beach before him. Two figures stood out in contrast from the bright sand around them. While Sora could not make out their features clearly, the shorter boy had to be Tidus, one of his more excitable and determined. It had to be, for only Tidus was foolish enough to duel Riku.

There was no mistaking Riku on the beach. Standing more than a head and a half taller than Sora, there was something so unique about him that made everyone notice. With one hand, he lazily drew a wooden sword, as if preparing to watch the same, dull movie for the seventh time. He pushed a slick bang of silvery hair out of his eyes, his pallid reflection amazingly untanned, despite the warm, tropical sun overhead.

Well, mused Sora, rubbing a blue bruise upon his arm, a slight smile finding its way onto his face. Tidus wasn't the only foolish one.

"Very well," drawled Riku, with a very listless tone, as he twirled his sword once in his right hand. "Bring it on."

Needing no further baiting, Tidus leapt forward, reaching an impressive height and tried to bring his stick down upon Riku's head. Sora shook his head with mild disapproval. It was always how Tidus fought, he noted. He never learned from his mistakes and always repeated the same maneuvers over and over again. Eventually, even Sora had learned his patterns and could best Tidus in a duel more often than not.

Dueling, to Sora, was the one unpredictable aspect of his life. Lifting his eyes off the fight below, (it truly was not going to be interesting) he lost himself in the rolling clouds above the horizon. Life on Destiny Islands was perfectly mundane, with little to do. Riku and him, from the early age of eight, had explored the entire island. They had even swam out to the far reaches of the island chain, enjoying an overnight stay in isolation on a tiny island they claimed as their own

Even now, after becoming teenagers, they would still take a boat out to their small, isolated island once in awhile. After roasting marshmallows over a small fire, and one time, sharing a bottle of coconut liquor that Riku was able to steal from his parents, Riku would talk at length about his own dreams and desires. Sora, knowing his best friend well, would settle in for a long wait before he could get a word in edgewise. He had to admit, Riku's thoughts were fascinating and despite his silence, the time did flow fast. He would often speak at length about one day leaving the island, just to see what was out there. The platinum haired boy seemed to see himself as a caged bird, prevented from flying away by the confines of the sea.

The beach went black as two warm hands clamped firmly against Sora's eyes, followed by a giggle.

"Guess who?" asked a voice that made his chest flutter with delight.

Sora smiled thinly, not fighting the blinds on his eyes. "You don't make it too hard to guess, Kairi."

The world came back into view as the soft fingers were lifted from his eyes, and a moment later, the girl named Kairi sat down next to him, her legs dangling from the lip of the cliff. Sora's eyes were instinctively drawn to them, as if attracted by magnets. Her skin was much lighter than Sora's, with a pink pigmentation that was unique specifically to her. Yet, never once had he heard her complain of sunburn; the sun was not cruel enough to harm a patch of skin on her sweet, thin legs.

Realizing that he was staring, Sora lifted his eyes off her legs and to her kind, round face. Every feature about her countenance was small, but fit in its own striking way. Kairi's sparkling brown eyes locked with Sora's before drifting toward the beach, where Riku was seen, blocking every one of Tidus' energetic swings.

Kairi sighed, her smile fading somewhat. "He is at it again, isn't he?"

Sora followed her eyes to Riku, who was in the middle of taunting Tidus with his smooth, poetic voice. Riku never seemed to loose his head, nor did he ever seem to let himself have too much fun, even during something as exciting as a duel. Instead, he seemed to be an observer to everything, including his own actions, and spoke like he had no bias towards anything.

"You know Riku, Kairi. He pretends it bores him, but he is only truly happy when he is competing."

Kairi shrugged shyly. "Don't become like that, ok Sora?"

Sora smirked, looking at Kairi with unblinking eyes. "I won't. Dueling is fun, but it isn't everything."

Kairi looked forlorn for a moment, casting her eyes downward, as if Sora had said something that hurt her.

"Something wrong?" He asked uncertainly. "Come on, Kairi, you seem upset."

"I don't know," she admitted with a somber tone. "I've just been thinking about a lot of things, like the future and stuff."

Sora frowned with slight consideration. "Really? What's so great about the future?"

She shrugged, kicking the heels of her sandals against the rocky outcropping. "It's interesting and sad, I think."

Kairi lightly rested her hand upon Sora's, her soft fingers caressing the top of his knuckles, sending waves of excitement shooting up his arm. Kairi's touch, so powerful yet so slight, could bring him back from the depths of despair, regardless of how alone he felt.

"Why sad?" asked Sora.

"I've just been having thoughts, lately," she continued, in a saddened tone, "I know that the future is going to be sad for us all, because everything is so great now... and I think it can only get worse from here."

Kairi, always one to be extremely happy and levelheaded, always the one to break up duels or competitions that got out of hand between Riku and him, seemed to be vexed today. Today she seemed anything but levelheaded... as if consumed by worry.

"Come on, Kairi," said Sora softly, cupping his second hand atop hers tenderly. "What is this really all about?"

Kairi, not to be outdone by her best friend, placed her second hand on top of the small stack of hands, completing an orderly pile of twenty fingers. Sora smirked at that. There was a competition of equal influence between him and Kairi. While Sora strove to outfight and outrun the stronger and faster Riku, Sora endeavored to outthink and maybe even outlove the smarter and more affectionate Kairi. With both his friends, he was always on loosing ground. But, at the same time, he was always learning. Perhaps, one day, he'd be as fast and as strong as Riku... and as smart and as loving as Kairi. Would I not be perfect then? He often mused to himself.

"Just promise me that, no matter where we are in the future, you'll think about me once in awhile," She looked into his eyes with calm sincerity.

Sora hastily began to nod, but a slight squeeze of his hand told him that she was not done speaking.

"We are growing up, Sora... we cannot stay children for ever. Life is slowly but surely going to drift us apart. I can see it in Riku's eyes... Riku is going to leave this island one day, you and I both know it. He is going to bring you with him, because you are too good of a friend to let him go alone. When you go, we may never see each other again... but as long as we remember each other, and always think of each other... we'll always be friends, in one way or another."

Sora remained motionless for a long moment, unable to find words to speak. At first came the thought of denial. Riku wouldn't want to leave the island, right? It was their home. But, as quickly as he thought of that, he realized the falseness of that hope. He did want to leave, and it would be sooner than later. Then, thought Sora, perhaps he would let Riku go alone. Riku is free to do as he wishes, and would not expect Sora to come along. Perhaps he wouldn't but, Sora knew that if Riku came up from the beach, told him he was leaving now, and beckoned for him to follow, Sora would not think twice.

Kairi had foreseen it all.

There was only one thing to say. "I promise I will never forget you, Kairi."

Sora heard Tidus' groan, as Riku grew weary of the duel and finished him off with a half-dozen clocks, thwaps and smacks...

* * * * * *

"... And, that's pretty much all I remember from the dream," finished Sora coyly, looking up from his plate of food in the dining hall.

Harry had listened to the recantation of the dream intently, as had Ron, Hermione and Seamus, who had all neglected their plates of ham and pudding. A dull throb in Harry's hand distracted him momentarily, but after flexing out his fingers a bit, the pain dissipated.

The Great Hall was alive with chatter, as almost every student was present for breakfast. Even Sora had come down, though this time, he had borrowed some old school robes from Seamus (they were of very similar build), making him stick out less than he had at dinner. While his clothing had been fixed, there was something about a red-zipped t-shirt, baggy shorts with a chain running from one pocket to another and large, brightly colored canary yellow trainers that made him stand out.

There was an air of excitement about the Great Hall today, as students were preparing for their holiday break. For some of the more unfortunate students, however, a final obstacle or two remained. For Harry and most of the other fifth year Gryffindors, it was a Charms exam on Friday, and the competition of the Apparating exam on the morrow.

And for today... a Potions exam that Hermione had been in a tizzy over for the past month. Harry and Ron felt they were as keen on the subject as they'd ever be, and now, it was a case of sink or float. Seamus, and Dean, who had studied with the Irish boy last night, had just resigned themselves to fate. Neither Seamus nor Dean had never gotten a grade higher than barely passing in Potions, and were certain that trend would not break.

"That's good, Sora," said Hermione aloofly and loftily, "yes, you are definitely showing some symptoms of a very powerful Memory Charm. One that erases someone's entire life is not without its... instabilities."

Sora took a forkful of ham into his mouth, chewed it meticulously and then swallowed. "What do you mean by instabilities?"

Harry, Ron and Seamus looked to Hermione questioningly.

"Think of your memory as a book of well over one hundred thousand pages. What a Memory Charm does is rip those pages out seamlessly and hides them from you. In most cases, people do not know these pages are gone and do not try to look for them. In your case, however, with all of your pages hidden, your subconscious knows something is wrong. Instinctively and unconsciously, you are trying to find these pages. And you will... but in no particular order. Make sense?"

"Yeah," nodded Sora. "That makes sense."

Harry could not help but smile as Hermione explained something so complex in a way that Sora understood so quickly. He wondered if it was that simplicity that prevailed in Hermione's mind at all times. Could she explain anything to herself in such lay terms that transformed specific, burdensome details into metaphors that were both understandable and colorful? Was that her secret to success?

Hermione adopted a pensive expression. "Erasing all your memory is really a short term solution. Who'd do it to you?"

"Maybe its just amnesia, without any magic?" voiced Ron.

Seamus shrugged uncertainly, while Harry also spoke up. "There is a chance that travel through the Inner Darkness can do that, maybe."

BOOM!

Harry and Ron should have known it was coming. Hermione slammed a thick, worn book upon the table, shaking the entire table. With a careful flick of her wand, Hermione flipped to page six hundred and forty-five very quickly.

"Let me guess," pronounced Ron thickly, "more light reading?"

"Actually," continued Hermione excitedly, "this was very complex. I had to translate it from Ancient Celtic to Middle English, to preserve it's meaning, and then to Common English to fully understand it."

"And you did that..." trailed off Seamus with a faint voice, "... in a single night?"

Hermione glanced up at Seamus. "Of course not. Not to offend, but this was not done for Sora. I... did it over the summer. It is all about Memory Charms, but near the end, it mentions the theories of Inner Darkness."

The four boys at the table leaned over the book as Hermione began to read aloud from the book.

"Contemporary theory seems to conclude..."

Hermione lifted her head from the page. "Keep in mind, when I use the term 'contemporary', I mean nearly nine hundred years ago." Upon seeing everyone's nod, she continued reading.

"... that the Inner Darkness is more than just a barrier that separate universes. It is a sentient, intelligent being unfathomably large that stems from but one source. The source is neither inherently light, nor inherently dark. Contemporary theory suggests that the Inner Light, labeled so for sake of convenience, was originally released into the universe before the Inner Darkness, and from it, came all worlds. Investing itself in all these worlds, it created a way to lock the darkness out of its creations..."

"Hermione," interrupted Ron impatiently. "This is a history lesson. What does this have to do with Memory Charms?"

Hermione looked up indignantly, "I was getting to it, if you don't mind!"

"Sometime before Potions would be ideal," muttered Ron drably, as he slouched onto the table, resting his head on his hand.

To Harry's relief, the thick-haired girl sighed morosely and flipped about ten pages. Both Seamus and Sora widened their eyes, though Harry was not surprised. He knew Hermione would have read every one of those pages in between, for ten measly pages of near microscopic print was nothing to her.

That is what he loved about Hermione: her impeccable attention to detail. Thoughts of her kept him going during his lonely nights at the Dursley's, over the summer. Thoughts of her bought momentary reprieve from the consuming grief and mourning that his sleepless nights were all about. The loss of Cedric Diggory, despite him never being a close friend... or even much of a friend at all... was as keenly felt upon the emerald-eyed boy as though he were an older brother, or family.

During these very hours of sleeplessness, he thought about more than just Hermione, but about life in general. Yet, at the culmination of every one of life's musings, Hermione's voice was what sounded within his head. Keeping thoughts of Hermione out of his head was impossible, for with her always was the very essence of the life he loved. With every embrace, or simply within proximity of her, he was reminded exactly of the life that had set him free from the first eleven years. By knowing the value of what he gained, by living at Hogwarts, he knew exactly how bad his life was before. Before he came to Hogwarts, he was never certain exactly what he was missing. When he saw other people at school, he assumed that they all lived in cupboards as well, hidden away during the hours that they weren't in school.

Harry smiled kindly as he watched Hermione, her chestnut brown eyes glued to the page she was reading, her petite and concise mouth forming the syllables of every word with passion and feeling. Leave it to that Hermione to draw the life from even the most ancient books. That was what he loved about her.

"... Common practice to Memory Charm those who have slipped into the Inner Darkness, for to know the secrets of the darkness would lead brave souls one step closer to fighting it."

Hermione lifted her head from the page and met Harry's eyes first. A small amount of blood burned in his cheeks. He quickly looked to his plate and covered himself by spooning some eggs into his mouth.

"So, wait a minute," thought Seamus aloud, "You mean Sora was Memory Charmed by a wizard while within the Inner Darkness?"

Sora looked a bit stunned. "I suppose it's possible. Anything is."

"Right," agreed Harry, who thanked his luck that Hermione had not noticed his little bout of embarrassment. "But, we will help you solve this mystery."

The new boy smiled. "I hope the answers, when they come, are not a disappointment."

"Do worry about that," reassured Ron, with a smirk upon his face. "Anything that gets Hermione all riled up will end the world, at least."

Checking his golden pocket watch concluded that it was time to go.

"Well," declared Harry proudly, rolling his eyes with false conviction, "We shant keep good Professor Snape waiting a'more."

Seamus and Ron both nodded with sarcasm upon their faces. "Of course, Harry," opined Seamus cheerfully, "it would be a right travesty to keep him from failing us another minute."

Sora seemed intrigued about the whole idea. "So, let's see if I'm getting this... you guys have to brew a potion for a test?"

"Yeah," replied Harry and Ron at the same time, while Hermione and Seamus chuckled. "That's pretty much how it works," filled in Ron.

"That's interesting," replied Sora, a bit dumbly. "I don't know much about brewing potions."

The gang of five started down toward the dungeons, footsteps echoing off the

frosty stone walls.

"Who knows," shrugged Seamus, with a bit of intrigue laced in his tone. "You might be a fair shake of a wizard yourself. How else would could you have gotten into the Inner Darkness?"

"Maybe," responded Sora uncertainly. "I don't know, but if I remember, you'll be the first to know."

The five teenagers eventually arrived at the Potions Room. Every year, there seemed to be a constant endeavor for the room to get darker, colder and more unpleasant, for this year, Harry truly could not stand it. An icy chill licked his spine as he was greeted by the uncomfortable, dank atmosphere. Skulls adorned the sides of the room, likely a newer addition by their lovable Potions Master. Seamus and Ron reluctantly sat down next to Dean, greeting him with silent, painted smiles and long, knowing looks to each other. Harry, Hermione and Sora took the desk behind them, calmly preparing for their test.

It seemed that they were the last ones to arrive, as all the Slytherins were in place, whispering and cramming last minute details into their brain.

Professor Snape was nowhere in sight.

"How do you feel about this test, Hermione?" asked Harry, turning to her, in light of their Professor's absence.

Hermione looked rather concerned, but smiled weakly. "I shall manage. And you?"

"Much the same, I imagine," stated Harry with a smile.

Sora nodded to both of them reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll do fine. I'd whisper the answers to you, but I don't really know them."

At that, both Harry and Hermione smiled politely, though Harry did not really find that too funny.

After a minute or two after class was supposed to begin, the door thundered open with a deft push and the tall, staunch form of Professor Snape bustled into the room, his midnight black robes catching the wind as he moved. He looked as determined as ever today, with his thin black brows drawn over his eyes and his lips set into a scowl.

"Quiet," he demanded sharply, his voice cracking like a whip, immediately silencing all chatter. He took the podium in front of the classroom, his eyes roaming around the room dangerously. "Your final exam is determined to be the following: Each of you is to brew two different potions of my choosing, drawn up from your extensive list this term. Full marks will be given to students who brew both potions successfully. Failure to brew a potion or both potions will result in severe penalties to the final grade..."

Snape trailed off ominously as his eyes fell upon Sora, a glint of uncertainty appearing in his eyes. He curled up his lips in distaste.

"And what are you doing in my classroom?" spoke Snape, in his quiet, sly and abrasive tone.

Sora jerked upright, and looked around nervously. Taken completely aback by several dozen pairs of eyes upon him, he pulled upon the collar of his borrowed school robes, allowing some air past his now obstructed throat. "I... um... I'm Sora... uh..."

Snape glared at him harshly. "Yes... I know who you are... you are Mr. Longbottom's Muggle. It is the latter part of my observation which leads me to question what you think you are doing in my classroom."

Neville slumped low into his chair, while Harry raised his hand. Sora looked to Harry, not sure what to say.

"Prefect Potter," pronounced the Professor, as if the words were poison dripping off his tongue. "So, this is your doing? Why am I not surprised?" Snape folded his arms across his chest, demeaning Harry to a mere inconvenience in his eyes. "Explain. Fast."

In all truth, it had never occurred to him that bringing Sora along to his classes would be a bad idea. What else was the poor sod going to do all day? Was he to mope around in his single dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower? As he was not an official student, he was not even granted a bed in the regular dorms, but instead, housed upon the top of the tower, in one of the many unused, single bedrooms. Harry had always wondered what they were meant for, but never asked.

"Sora's my charge," fibbed Harry, deciding to stretch the truth a bit. "Due to the mysterious nature of his arrival, I was given the responsibility to look after him during his stay, and therefore, on my own authority, I am not allowing him to leave my sight so long as we are not situated within secure areas of the castle, mainly the Gryffindor dormitories."

Harry was amazed with the level of confidence and guile he showed, as Snape seemed to have no choice but to consider him coldly for a moment, no swift retort coming to his lips.

"On your authority..." repeated Snape coolly. Whether he was considering this, or just deciding how many points to take off, Harry was not sure. "Prefect, get that boy out of here or I will take so many points from Gryffindor that you'll single-handedly plow a legacy of negative numbers for your house that will remain long after your departure from this institution."

Harry stood up, his face set into a very firm scowl, his stubborn pride not allowing him to swallow this insult to his responsibilities as a prefect. Who was Snape to pass such a vindictive order upon Harry, given the danger Sora may still very well be in?

"You cannot do that!"

"Harry, maybe I should just..." trailed off Sora, upon seeing Harry wave his hand at him dismissively.

Everyone in Gryffindor stared at Harry pleadingly, not desiring to just throw away their House Cup over this. However, he did not care. This went beyond his care for Sora, and Harry knew it. In truth, Harry did not even like Sora all that much. He was just too blissfully naïve and arrogant in a subtle way. On the chance his father was looking down on him right now, however, he would not back down from Snape. His father had given his life to protect those in his charge... his family. He was a prefect at Hogwarts, charged with a duty. It was his job, his responsibility, to insure the safety of all those who called Gryffindor their home. What would sore Professor Snape know about protecting and caring about anything? While Sora was not in his house, he called Gryffindor his home, at least for now.

Snape's eyes lit up with livid, black fire. "You presume to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own classroom? Twenty points from Gryffindor, and I shall file a formal complaint with the Headmaster about the status of your prefect merit."

"Sora is my charge, and it is my job to insure his safety!" countered Harry, with emerald fire in his eyes. He ignored the chortling Slytherins and even managed to block out Draco's triumphant smirk.

Snape slammed a fist upon his desk, his breathing escalating with intimidating fury, like a savage dog preparing for a barking frenzy. "Potter, desist this mutinous behavior and get that pathetic Muggle out of my classroom!"

"Hey!" shouted a voice from Harry's left, stunned shock crossing his face, as Sora leapt out of his chair, his deep, blue eyes also alight with determination. "Who are you calling pathetic, you snake?"

For a moment, Professor Snape seemed to resemble Uncle Vernon, his cheeks swelling up to twice their normal size and becoming a shade of magenta. This look brought Harry's wall of confidence folding in upon itself, and no longer did he stand tall like a vigilant prefect. Now, he was shrunk and broken, like the eleven-year-old cupboard boy he used to be.

"POTTER!" screamed Snape, his voice leaping up two octaves, "ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR, AND I SWEAR, IF YOU THINK THAT IS ALL I CAN DO TO YOUR HOUSE, I CHALLENGE YOU TO PRESS ME FURTHER!"

Harry knew that the time to stand his ground was at an end; his rage was replaced with hopelessness. He began to sink back into his chair, feeling completely sick.

Practically as one, the entire Gryffindor class stood up, freezing Harry in place. Even Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who usually drew as little focus to themselves as possible, had risen with defiance.

And it was an even more unlikely person who spoke up next.

"You cannot take more than fifty points from one single student in one seating!" exclaimed Hermione, standing up and pointing rebelliously at Snape. "After fifty points, you must send the dissident student away to the Headmaster for further punishment!"

Snape, having got out his frustrations in one single scream, simply curled his upper lip into a cold sneer. "Well, as you notice, our young Mr... Sora... is not a student. As he is Prefect Potter's responsibility, I shall penalize Gryffindor as heftily as I feel is needed for his disrespectful actions." He narrowed his eyes frostily at Sora. "I hope you enjoy your little vacation at Hogwarts now, muggle!"

"You..." trailed off Ron disbelievingly, his arms taut and shaking at his side, "... are a bloody git!"

The Slytherins simply sat back, snickering while the Gryffindors resumed digging their own graves.

"And three detentions to you, Mr. Weasley," hissed Snape, his anger now becoming controlled, passionate rage. "Anyone else want to join him?"

"Me!" barked Seamus, as he stood tall and proud next to Ron.

"Me!" Dean called, redeeming himself somewhat in Harry's eyes by taking Ron's other flank.

"Us too!" snapped Parvati Patil, grabbing both a willing looking Lavender by the arm, and Neville in the other arm. Neville furiously tried to resist, but in the end, gave in.

"And, you can count on me showing up as well," said Sora proudly, narrowing his blue eyes contemptuously and shaking his fist.

"As well as us!" vowed Hermione, grabbing Harry's arm. Harry was all too willing to make this stand with Hermione.

If Snape was impressed by the display of loyalty that the Gryffindor fifth years were showing for each other, he did not show it. Instead, he simply folded his hands.

"Well, we shall have a lot of fun, won't we?" cooed Snape, a look of cold, angry amusement upon his face. "Consider your midterms failed."

"Oh," snorted Ron, as he turned to leave, with the rest of the Gryffindors. "That'll go over well with the Headmaster. The entire fifth year Gryffindor class failing potions."

Having summed it up very well, the rest of the Gryffindors followed Ron's leave in open rebellion, marching out of the classes and straight toward the Headmaster's office.

* * * * * *

Draco licked his lips derisively as he watched the Gryffindors relocating their useless hides from the classroom. Could this have gone off any more perfectly? Draco wondered sinisterly, as he sat back in his chair. The way was just paving itself before his very eyes for him to regain the pride Potter had stolen from him ever since they had met.

"Well, looks like the house cup is ours this year," chortled Crabbe, as he clasped Draco's shoulder gruffly, startling him slightly.

"You are touching me," replied Draco shortly.

Crabbe released Draco's shoulder and instead grasped Goyle's, and both of them shared a series of unintelligible, pathetic grunts.

Thinking back to earlier this morning, when he had overheard Sora splurging everything he remembered about his dream, it had dawned on him... Riku... the boy who Sora spoke so reverently of... with his long, white hair, strong build, gleaming eyes; by Merlin, it was almost like that stupid Muggle fancied him, the way he described him so openly.

This boy Riku was going to be Draco's way in, he realized, as he licked his lips again, a habit he had developed over the summer. If his plan was going to work, he would need someone who could pull it off. Draco was never very good at being subtle and playing his cards sparingly. One of his best talents was self-realization. There were certain things he knew he was capable of, and that was just not one of them. He would need to use someone who'd be open to him; this job called for someone who was keen, persuasive, talented...

"It is my charge as Gryffindor prefect," cried Blaise Zabini passionately, while pinching his nose with one hand and dramatically throwing his other hand up to his forehead, drawing a fake scar upon his forehead with a dab of ink, "to protect everyone... in my protective embrace..." Blaise then made a show of messing up his black hair, drawing a laugh from most of the Slytherins, "... to make sure they get protection... so that they feel protected."

... And yet, someone who was blissfully unaware of anything.

"That will do, Mr. Zabini," muttered Snape, who nonetheless, seemed a bit amused by his student's impersonation.

Draco gave a forced yet very mirthful sounding laugh. "That was funny, Blaise. Say, can I talk to you after class?"