The Silk Mask

The Silk Mask

"Check," sighed Ron's excited voice. Harry moved a bishop, and Ron sunk in his seat.

A bittersweet winter day in the great hall was precisely what Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Ginny needed this weekend. After a torturous week of homework and notes, even Hermione was grateful for the chance to relax in the Great Hall. In fact, the Hall itself looked bittersweet with the harsh, swirling snow blundering above them against the enchanted ceiling and ice-glazed windows. Everyone was talking quietly and engaging in a few games, sitting in piles along the House tables. Magical fires crackled merrily, and even the homesick first-year students felt as if they were sitting in their own living rooms.

"Another winter formal, another disappointment," sighed Ginny, sitting across from Hermione.

"What are you talking about?" responded Hermione lazily, lifting her head somewhat off her arms. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"We don't have dates, Hermione," Ginny replied stubbornly.

Hermione waved her hand at Ginny impatiently. "Well this will give us a chance to get one, then."

Ginny didn't seem to hear Hermione. She gazed dreamily out of the nearest window, her eyes glazed with secretive longing.

"Ginny, is something the matter?"

"Huh? No...." Ginny said, finally realizing Hermione was there. She snapped back up with a start, sighed, and continued with her thought.

"Wouldn't it be nice if your prince charming could just appear out of nowhere one day?" she asked. "That would save us a lot of trouble."

"Yes, but think of it this way," argued Hermione, "If you had to search for him, wouldn't it make you appreciate it more? If it was that easy, we'd take love for granted."

"How poetic!" Ginny squealed, stifling a yawn at the same time.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it's true."

"Check," Ron said again with mounting excitement. Harry moved his bishop once more, and Ron sunk again.

Through the calm air of the Hall, Hermione began to laugh. "Wouldn't it be funny if you're 'one and only' did happen to show up and he was totally bizarre?"

Ginny began to giggle fiercely. "Oh, but romantically bizarre."

"Yes, romantically bizarre, if there even is such a thing. A person like...."

"Malfoy..." Ginny started to stare at something behind Hermione.

"Malfoy?" she asked, half-laughing. "Draco Malfoy? Ha! I'd rather die!"

"No, Hermione," Ginny said, pointing at the something behind Hermione. "Malfoy."

Hermione half-turned in her seat enough to catch a glimpse of Draco Malfoy who was, indeed, walking towards their table, along with a gang of four other Slytherin boys. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to face Ginny, bracing herself for an explosion. Ginny looked down at the table and went slightly pale. The other three boys were so locked up in their game of wizard's chess, they didn't notice until the unwelcome sight spoke in a sneering voice behind them.

One thing, however, kept the girls under a certain kind of weakness. Draco Malfoy had grown up, becoming taller, leaner, and a bit more muscular, being a Seeker on the Quidditch team and all. His silvery-blonde hair seemed to be glowing along with the sky above them, and his light eyes pierced through them like a winter morning.

"Well if it isn't Potty and the Weasel locked in an intense battle of wits," Draco sneered.

"Leave us alone," Ginny said, boldly rising from her seat. Hermione and the boys rose with her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked him, hiding his clenched fists in his pockets.

"Can't you just leave us alone already?" Ron said aggressively. "Or at least go sit in a rubbish dump where you belong!"

"Well, at least I don't live in a rubbish dump, Weasley," said Draco. Ron and Ginny's ears grew red.

"Get out of here, Malfoy, you stupid, evil skinbag. Stop being such an insolent snot-face for once and sit in your little corner," said Hermione, temper rising.

"I will if you will."

"Stinking, festering snake!"

"Book-sucker!"

"Mediocre Quidditch player!"

"Know-it-all wannabe!"

"Ferret face!"

"Mudblood!"

Hermione hurtfully retreated back a few steps, tears welling in her eyes. Ginny and Ron had fully red faces and Harry was so mad he couldn't even speak. Draco might have been able to enjoy his last little victory, but a lightning-fast mass of red sparks hit him in the chest, throwing him backwards and onto the floor.

They all looked up to where the sparks came from, and they saw Neville, standing with his wand poised like a round-faced warrior.