Chapter 155 - Dido's Disappointment

Praeris folded her arms and frowned. "What happened to you?"

Crabbe glared at his tattered boots, his tone foul. "I'd like to know who did this myself! I'd kick that bastard's arse so hard—"

Praeris couldn't be bothered with his bluster and headed straight for the stairs. Knowing Slytherins as she did, she didn't believe Crabbe had the brains or the nerve to follow through on anything. That tough talk would stay just that for the rest of his life. Never to be fulfilled.

If anyone thought she looked down on Crabbe, they'd be absolutely right. Too bad there's no prize for guessing correctly.

Crabbe shuffled after her in his ruined boots, making for the stairs down to the dungeons. "What's going on with Draco?" he asked bluntly.

"What do you mean, what's going on?" Praeris's expression didn't change. She shot him a sidelong glance. "As if he and I have anything to do with each other."

"Aren't you two boyfriend and girlfriend? Or did you break up?"

Praeris said coldly, "According to him, we were never together. So what breakup is there to talk about?"

Crabbe had planted half a foot squarely on Praeris's landmine, completely oblivious.

He put on a stupid, mocking expression. "So it looks like he dumped you?"

Praeris began to wonder if she'd been behaving too amiably lately, for even Crabbe to dare raise his voice at her.

She sneered. "The Ministry ought to list your name after the Flobberworm, or it doesn't deserve to be trusted. If it weren't so, you'd already know — if Draco ever pissed me off, he'd die a death uglier than a Horned Toad slit open and disemboweled."

The tip of her wand slid out from her sleeve.

Crabbe's toes burst out of his shoes and began growing wildly, every single one stretching until it was as long as a baby's arm.

Crabbe collapsed onto the ground, his whole body trembling, utterly terrified.

Praeris gave a cold laugh, withdrew her gaze with contempt, and continued on her way, her little bucket clicking along.

She tossed back one last line without turning around. "Looks to me like you deserve to stay just like that."

When Praeris returned to the common room, Goyle was curled up on the sofa reading comics.

Praeris couldn't stand Crabbe, but Goyle was a different matter, fairly decent, all things considered. Aside from trailing after Draco, he spent most of his time absorbed in comics. He'd even once shared one with Praeris. When she looked closely, it turned out to be the comic adaptation of the very novel Heidi had shared with her.

Goyle hauled himself up off the sofa and rubbed his stiffened backside. "Praeris, you just came from outside — did you see Crabbe?"

"I did." Praeris said lazily. "He offended me, so he's been punished."

She flipped the cloth off the little bucket and signaled Goyle with her eyes. He obediently stuck his head over and found a small half-bucket of Horned Toads.

His eyes went wide. He stammered, "Wh-wh-which one of these is Crabbe? When are you going to change him back?"

Praeris smiled pleasantly. "What are you talking about? I've been working on a rather troublesome potion experiment lately. These are my test subjects."

"Huh?"

Goyle's mouth fell open. He froze in place, petrified.

Praeris flashed a wicked grin and walked off, thoroughly pleased with herself.

...

"What's going on with you and Draco?" Pansy stormed in, with Millicent trailing behind her, sucking on a lollipop and clutching a paper bag of snacks.

"What kind of drama are you two putting on?" Pansy said, her tone peculiar. "Are you Aeneas and he's Dido?"

Praeris was busy feeding snails to the Horned Toads when Pansy said this. She needed them to stay alive and healthy until her potion was ready.

"How could that be?" Praeris answered without looking up. "Panpan, we're clearly both witches."

Millicent asked in a mumbling, sticky voice, "What kind of dido?"

"Just eat your snacks!" Pansy shot her a glare.

Millicent, still munching, silently glided sideways over to her own bed.

Pansy turned back to Praeris. "Don't brush me off! Draco looks like he's practically turning blue, and you're like some furious warrior woman."

What Pansy meant was that Draco looked deeply melancholy and miserable, which was entirely his own doing.

Draco had to learn that piercing a lover's heart never comes without a cost.

Praeris picked up the Horned Toads one by one, inspecting each body in turn. "Is that so? But that's not my problem. If he figures things out, he naturally won't need to be sad anymore."

"Which one is Crabbe?" Pansy asked nervously. "Do you want to get detention? And you even brought it — uh, him — into the girls' dormitory."

Praeris looked back at her, a mischievous grin curling at her lips. "How am I supposed to tell which toad is special? They all look exactly the same."

Pansy hurried forward and crouched in front of the little bucket. "Crabbe? Crabbe! Can you hear me? If you can, jump out!"

She craned her neck to peer inside. Every Horned Toad sat perfectly still, showing no intention of responding.

Pansy suddenly thought of something and gasped. "Crabbe, you haven't gone and killed him, have you!"

Praeris didn't dare keep teasing Pansy any longer, or she'd actually be in for a beating.

"I'd guess," Praeris said unhurriedly, "that Crabbe is with Madam Pomfrey right now, getting treated for some minor ailments he thoroughly deserved."

She glanced back at the little bucket. "As for these, I already said, they're for my potion experiments. Please. I'm nowhere near the stage of experimenting on people yet."

Pansy was half relieved, half annoyed. "You scared Goyle half to death! Tell me, can Crabbe still walk himself back to the common room?"

What she meant was: could Crabbe come back alive?

Praeris thought for a moment. "Perhaps?"

That would depend entirely on whether Madam Pomfrey could change Crabbe's toes back. Otherwise, Crabbe might not be able to walk at all.

Praeris figured she probably could. He just wouldn't get off without suffering a fair bit.

Pansy considered it. Praeris was a steady person. In Praeris's terms, perhaps probably translated to a very high probability of yes, which meant Crabbe wasn't going to die, and they could stop worrying about him.

"If Crabbe managed to piss you off, he must have made a serious mistake," Pansy said, with blatant favoritism. "Whatever suffering he has coming, let him have it. I'm more concerned about you and Draco."

"There's no need." Praeris said sincerely. "I understand, both you and Draco are people I love. You care about us because of the friendship between us. But Panpan, love is a matter between two people."

"I've been waiting for an opportunity," Praeris said, her tone steady and gentle. "One I've waited a very, very long time for. My relationship with Draco, by now, it's been nearly three years. We both need to step outside of what we've been, spend some time alone, and look at our feelings with fresh eyes."

Both Praeris and Draco had things hidden from each other. Contradictions buried deep, ready to break through the surface at any moment.

Draco had grown up steeped in blood-purity ideology. Praeris was a half-blood.

As everyone knew, true pure-bloods were actually scarce, and the vast majority of the ones she encountered were the closest thing to it. Whether at Hogwarts or the Ministry, most were half-bloods parading under a pure-blood name.

Miss Stella had told Praeris that Umbridge was exactly that kind of person, yet Umbridge still moved through the Slytherin network like a fish in water.

As long as that paper-thin screen was pasted over thickly enough, the slogans shouted loudly enough, and the person useful enough, pure-blood or not didn't actually matter all that much.

Seizing this moment, Praeris was laying her blood status out in the open. She wanted Draco to see it clearly, to work out for himself whether he liked Praeris the person, or whether he only needed a pure-blood lineage.

As for Draco's vicious mouth, Praeris didn't actually mind it much. She herself was quite skilled at cutting people to the quick. But Draco shouldn't have sharpened the bond between them into a blade and driven it into Praeris's heart.

She knew he hadn't done it intentionally. It was simply a flaw born into his character.

But Praeris had to make him understand, even if that meant Praeris cried alongside him, even if it meant Praeris suffered alongside him, it would only ever be a decision Praeris made of her own free will.

Draco shouldn't use words to unilaterally, high-handedly take away Praeris's right to choose, and wound her in doing so.

And there was much, much more. Problems they both knew full well and had never resolved.

In Praeris's view, the relationship between her and Draco was a cracked pot matched with a battered lid, two disasters who'd taken a fancy to each other, each other's calamity and ruin. And foul things always came surging in with a vengeance.

They had both fallen for someone utterly wrong for them, someone who would bring nothing but trouble. And they'd waded in willingly, choosing to add some rough terrain to their own lives.

In Slytherin, Draco had countless girls who suited him, whether in blood or temperament. Pansy herself was even a good match. She was pure-blood, happy to dote on Draco, and had once liked him.

In Slytherin, Praeris also had boys who suited her. Miles, who had already graduated, didn't care about blood status, could accept Praeris's strong personality, and was generous with his warmth.

But no. Neither of them had chosen any of that.

A smooth, open road and a thorny path overgrown with weeds, both laid out in front of them. Rotten people of their particular disposition stepped without hesitation onto the one with the bleakest prospects.

Pansy had nothing left to say. She was simply letting concern cloud her judgment. If it were her own relationship on the table, she wouldn't want anyone meddling either.

"Praie," she said after a moment, "do you know what Crabbe was going to ask you?"

Praeris didn't follow.

Millicent called out from behind, "Draco resigned as Quidditch captain and asked for leave from the next match!"

"I see," Praeris said calmly. "I understand."

Draco's excuse was that he wasn't feeling well. But a small number of friends close to Draco all believed it was just a pretext to cover up a broken heart.

Within a couple of days, the fact that Draco had been dumped by Praeris had become an unspoken secret throughout Slytherin.

A younger Slytherin boy gossiped maliciously, "Is it because Malfoy's father is in prison? Looks like Prince is pretty good at reading the room."

"I truly pity you, Eric," Astoria said with quiet sympathy. "I imagine your father left your mother for similar reasons? Otherwise, why would you think that of Praeris?"

Eric went red with shame and snapped, "What's Prince to you that you'd defend her like this? Or did she pay you something?"

Astoria glanced at him and said slowly, "Such poverty of language, and such a severe lack of proper upbringing. Eric, no matter how much you hop and shriek, neither Praeris nor I will be charitable enough to do your mother's job for her."

At the other end of the table, Millicent turned to Daphne with a blank stare. "That was Lia?"

Her impression of Astoria was still stuck on sweet little sister.

"What else?" Daphne said, mildly baffled. "You're missing a mother figure right now, not a sister. Don't tell me you think Lia is your long-lost half-sibling you've never met?"

Millicent had a sudden realization. "How presumptuous of me! That's right, you two are real sisters!"

"You're completely hopeless," Daphne muttered. "Never know what's going on in that head of yours."

Today was the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match.

Draco had found Harper, a year below him, to replace him as Slytherin's Seeker.

"I don't think Harper can replace Draco," Millicent said glumly. "Draco is the only Slytherin Seeker in years who's managed to beat Potter."

She sighed. "I'm commentating today. I really don't want to have to personally announce Slytherin's defeat."

"Not much to be done," Daphne said. "Unless Draco hauls his head out of the love goddess's bathwater."

Even the Gryffindors thought the same.

Harry insisted Draco had taken leave to plot something nefarious. But teenagers in the throes of adolescence had their own ideas about that.

Ron was shivering with nerves, still managing to say, "Even though I don't think I can help us win, I've got to thank Prince. Harper's at least a tiny bit easier to deal with than Malfoy."

While Millicent was clearing her throat at the commentator's podium, Praeris extinguished the flame under her cauldron and ladled out a spoonful of burgundy-red potion.

While the Slytherins in the stands sang "Weasley Is Our King," Praeris sharpened her small silver knife to a keen edge, doing her best to ensure the toad wouldn't suffer too much when its leg came off.

Ron saved the first goal. Praeris cut off the leg of a frantically struggling Horned Toad in one clean stroke.

Gryffindor led 60 to zero. Praeris fed the first dose of potion to the Horned Toad.

The toad's mouth sprayed scorching white steam. Its remaining leg kicked furiously. Praeris had to press down hard to keep it from bolting off the table.

When Harry snatched the Golden Snitch right out from under Harper, the first Horned Toad breathed its last.

Praeris sighed in frustration.

Whoever said losing in love means winning in your work?

➤ Next: Extra: Before Hogwarts