Chapter 50 - The Quill

Lupin shook off his jumbled thoughts and looked around for Snape, who still hadn't shown up.

He walked to the door. No Snape, but there was Harry, standing alone in the corridor.

Stop overthinking it, Lupin!

Pull yourself together. Harry looks like he needs you.

Now let us turn our gaze back to Slytherin. The girls had returned earlier than Praeris expected.

"I thought you'd play a while longer," Praeris said, turning from the sofa in surprise.

Millicent clutched a large backpack to her chest and kept pulling things out of it. "Filch searched my bag over and over. He was convinced I'd hidden something nasty in there."

"There was nothing but snacks inside." Daphne picked up the thread, her tone laced with contempt. "It drove that Squib absolutely mad."

Praeris smiled. "He's just trying to keep order at Hogwarts. The students are far too mischievous."

It wasn't the first time Praeris had seen Filch complain to Snape about students' restlessness. In Filch's eyes, every student was a potential troublemaker.

Strangely enough, he would praise Praeris and Draco in front of Professor Snape, the way adults give social compliments about other people's children, even when the children in question weren't nearly as good as he made them sound.

Praeris's "politics teacher" Stella had her own take on this: "Did you really think he was praising you? No. He was praising Professor Snape for his excellent guidance."

That was how Slytherin students were. The boys might still be a little childish, but the fifth- and sixth-year girls were already something else entirely.

Whether it was Stella or Miss Farley, they seemed to have received a certain kind of education through their family lives, one that teachers at school would never provide.

Stella once said, "How to put it — life is also a book. We read widely, but not in the narrow sense. Some people say you're more like a Ravenclaw. People have said the same to me."

"But we both know how we differ from Ravenclaw. They thirst for knowledge. They believe clever people stand above everyone else. We're not like that. Knowledge is just a weapon to me. We are never trapped by it. We learn to protect ourselves, to reach higher goals, to build a better life, to earn more honor — for endless, unceasing victory."

"My dear, I heard that remark you gave Malfoy. It was truly brilliant. Don't let others define you. I have never once regretted admiring you."

Stella Stewart was referring to what Praeris had said to Draco last term, after he lost his Quidditch match: "Of course I wouldn't understand what it feels like to lose to someone else — because I've simply never lost."

Very arrogant. But no one found a single thing wrong with it.

Hogwarts is a school. But the definition of "teacher" has never been limited to professors alone.

Millicent had brought back so many snacks that Praeris conservatively estimated she wouldn't be able to finish them even by next year.

"What's Hogsmeade like?" Praeris asked, curious. "Which shops did you visit?"

She had long since pieced together the layout of Hogsmeade from her classmates' chatter. She still loved hearing her friends tell it in their own words.

Millicent clenched her fists, practically vibrating with excitement. "I went to Honeydukes and bought all of this. Daphne and I also went to a clothing shop — and look, we got you socks!"

"Does it have to be these? Do I actually have to wear them?" Praeris frowned at the socks.

They were wool toe socks. The kind with individual pockets for each toe. They were a riot of clashing, garish colors, each toe printed with a different small magical creature.

Praeris stared at the Niffler face on one of the toes and frowned harder.

"Don't you think they're adorable?" Millicent said, waggling her eyebrows.

Praeris grudgingly conceded the point. "They are adorable. They'd be even more adorable if I didn't have to wear them."

HAHAHAHAHA,

All three Slytherin girls collapsed into laughter, shoving each other. "Pansy picked them out." "Rubbish, Millicent paid for them." "Daphne said it'd be a surprise for you..."

Praeris smiled stiffly. No need to argue. All three of you are guilty.

Finally, Millicent pulled out another pack of socks with a wide grin. "Fake. These are the real ones."

Praeris held up the gaudy toe socks. "I want these too. I'm hanging them at my bedside at Christmas, see if I can trick a few extra presents out of someone."

"Outrageous! You want to use the socks we bought you to lure gifts out of us..."

A few minutes later, all three girls headed toward the dormitory in a storm of chatter, shoving and talking over each other. They needed to change out of their dirty clothes before the Halloween feast.

Praeris tidied up her things, shook the parchment flat, stuffed the snacks into her bag, reached for the next item, and,

A rectangular wooden box tied with a ribbon appeared in front of her.

Praeris looked up. "What's this?"

"For you. Take it or leave it."

Draco stood sideways, one hand hooked over the back of an armchair, the other bent with the back of his hand lightly covering his mouth. His voice was barely above a murmur. He looked like he was trying to rob someone.

He wasn't looking at Praeris at all. As he spoke, his eyes kept cutting toward the doorway.

The feast was nearly starting. Nobody was coming in. Merlin only knew what he was watching so intently.

Was he looking at the air? Remarkable. Truly extraordinary air.

Praeris raised an eyebrow. She reached out, tugged the ribbon loose, and lifted the lid.

It was a quill gift set. The quill had magnificent green plumage and a bronze relief-carved shaft. Beneath it sat a full box of ten nibs, along with an ink blotter, a pen rest, an ink bottle, and more.

Without knowing the price, Praeris could already summarize the set in one tactful sentence: its artistic value slightly exceeded its practical value.

"What did you mess up?" Praeris studied him with unhurried calm. "Coming to bribe me?"

Draco broke into a violent coughing fit at that, ears going red. "What could I possibly have messed up! It's just that you — it's just that you —"

He floundered. No coherent explanation came out. Praeris waited, and her waiting stare made him more nervous by the second, his eyes blinking rapidly.

He sucked in a breath and got it all out in one rush. "Ahem. My father said, courtesy demands reciprocity. You saved me, so I have to thank you. Don't read too much into it, why would I ever need to bribe you! Just replace that worn-out quill of yours already!"

"I suspect Mr. Malfoy never actually said any of that." Praeris tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But I'll take it. I do need a new quill."

Draco gave a cold laugh. "That's my father, not yours. Do you think you know him better than I do?"

Praeris pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "Fair enough. Please pass along my thanks to your father."

"That was a gift I bought!"

"Oh, right. Thank you as well, then."

"You really are a clueless creature."

Millicent's voice drifted in from the corridor leading to the dormitories. "Pansy, you two, hurry up! Aren't we all wearing robes? How are you somehow still not dressed!"

"Millicent Bulstrode! You slovenly brute!"

That was Pansy.

The click-clack of 3 pairs of footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Praeris tucked the gift box into her bag and stood. "Let's go. Time for the feast."

The food was magnificent. Praeris was willing to bet that Barny and the elves had put enormous effort into building up the students' appetites.

Even Praeris, who usually ate very little, reached a solid seventy-percent full, uncomfortably so.

"No more." She waved her hand. "I'm not losing sleep to indigestion."

Millicent looked at her with theatrical pity. "Moments like this, I always feel a little sorry for you lot. Unable to eat your way through all the good things."

"Go roll yourself over to the boys' side and form a group with Crabbe and Goyle," Pansy said, her face a picture of disgust. "Make your debut. You can call yourselves the Round-Bellied Trio."

Praeris rolled her head to loosen her neck and shoulders, and caught movement at the staff table from the corner of her eye.

Professor Snape was glancing repeatedly at Professor Lupin. Praeris remembered, the full moon was only a few days away.

It was only at moments like this that she thought back to what Snape had said in that very first lesson. Potions is a wondrous discipline. It raises one's prestige. It brews honor. And to some extent, it can even stop death.

Lupin probably disliked the professor. Which was why he hadn't stopped students from undermining Snape's reputation. But look, even now, at a time like this, he had no choice but to rely on him. Without Snape, Lupin wouldn't even be able to stay at this school.

It was precisely those words that had captivated Praeris, pulling her deep into the world of potions, until now, when she had finally been permitted to independently research the Wolfsbane Potion.

Neither she nor Professor Snape believed this attempt would succeed. She treasured the opportunity anyway and had no intention of giving up.

Draco was in a remarkably good mood today, for reasons unknown. He spent the meal poking at everyone around him. He barely touched his own food. And when they finished and were heading out of the Great Hall, he shouted across the crowd at Potter: "The Dementors are coming~"

Pansy said gloomily, "He's like he's been hit with an Invigoration Draught. I wish Jakob could be half this cheerful. He misses me constantly, a letter every 2 or 3 days, already wishing it were summer break."

Jakob was that blond Durmstrang boy. Sixteen years old, 3 years older than Pansy.

According to Pansy, when they were actually together, he was a complete clam. Very composed. An almost adult steadiness about him. But he listened to Pansy absolutely, point at a target and he would hit it.

The moment they had to separate and go to their respective schools, he transformed entirely. Every night, huddled under his blankets, writing melancholy love letters. Pressing rose petals into the envelopes. Fretting that Pansy would find someone else at school and stop loving him.

Praeris's internal response: I don't understand any of this, but I'm deeply shaken. Aren't you two not even officially dating yet?

To guard against Pansy having a change of heart, Jakob had also sent along a photograph of himself. Praeris had taken a look. He was, in fact, quite good-looking.

Pansy gave a dry laugh. "He must have fussed over that photo for hours. German fashion sense, honestly, better not to speak of it."

Upper garments: black. Hat: black. Scarf: black. Trousers: black. Socks: black. Shoes: also black.

"Anyone who didn't know better would think Grindelwald had come back!" Pansy jeered.

Praeris was momentarily stunned. She thought of those absurd novels Heidi was always reading. Grindelwald's faction colors really were black, weren't they.

"Though I've heard his style is actually quite striking," Praeris said.

This was based entirely on Heidi's own authority, of course. Heidi was firmly convinced that everyone in novels had to be gorgeous, even if the author had never once described them that way.

"Otherwise, what would justify the price of the books!" Heidi had declared, with great righteousness.

Pansy waved a hand. "Who cares what Grindelwald wore? Either way, Jakob's fashion sense is no sense at all."

"Marcus!" Terrence jogged quickly toward Marcus Flint, who had nearly reached the entrance to the common room.

He leaned in and murmured something. Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you the prefect or am I? It's straightforward, just say it plainly."

Praeris and the others paused to see what was happening.

Terrence cleared his throat and shouted, "Everyone, return to the Great Hall!"

Marcus covered his face. "A Sonorus Charm! You're a wizard! Say it properly: the Headmaster has ordered all Slytherins to return to the Great Hall immediately. Check that all your roommates are accounted for. Do not move alone."

Terrence nodded earnestly and repeated the words as instructed.

"Give the same announcement inside the common room," Marcus said.

Terrence hurried in.

Marcus caught Praeris watching him and shook his head with a tired look.

"It's his first time being a prefect," Praeris said.

"But not his first time seeing one," Marcus said.

"Did Miss Selwyn send him over?" Praeris asked, with a slight smile.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, something clicking behind his eyes.

Terrence hadn't known what to do. If the Headmaster or Head of House had sent him, he would have thought to ask what to say beforehand. But no one had briefed him, and the moment he arrived, he went straight to Marcus.

Both Selwyn and Terrence had been given the same task. But Selwyn had sent Terrence ahead while she stayed in the Great Hall to manage the headcount.

The conversation had probably gone something like this: Selwyn told Terrence to go notify everyone while she held the fort and took attendance. Terrence said he didn't know what to say. Selwyn replied, Marcus has gone back to the common room, just ask him when you get there.

Marcus's voice was rough and low. "That just shows Selwyn is clever enough."

Praeris was beginning to understand Professor Snape's second choice. Both of them were strong students in their year. Terrence had a genuine sense of responsibility, but not enough cunning. Selwyn was sharp and quick-witted, but she was also very good at making sure the responsibility landed on someone else.

Selwyn looked like the stronger candidate on the surface. But in any role, there were always duties that couldn't be passed off, things that simply had to be dealt with. They each needed to learn, through serving as prefect, what the other had that they lacked.

Especially Terrence.

When they reached the Great Hall, the students were bewildered. No one could figure out why the Headmaster had summoned everyone back.

Dumbledore gestured for Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick to seal all the doors to the Great Hall, then announced that a full search of the castle would be conducted.

The students would be spending the night in the Great Hall.

➤ Next: Quarrel — Words Unspoken