Chapter 4
Draco finished his meal and bid farewell to Pansy and Blaise. Several quarter moons had passed since their sixth year at Hogwarts began and since the two princes began their wager. Trevor the toad — or fly — had yet to be found.
Ever since the lesson with mandrakes some odd years ago, Draco used his time after lunch to study. Herbology with Professor Sprout was far from easy if one was not prepared.
Luckily for the Dark Prince, he made it to History of Magic alive and well. Learning about MACOSA and other international wizarding organisations was no fun, but it was loads better than teaching hippogriffs where they were and were not allowed to hunt in Care of Magical Creatures.
When his last class of the day, Divination, was over, the sun had moved a great deal through the sky. The grandfather clock in the Slytherin common room struck five o’clock just as he entered his room. Prince Harry had an hour left until sundown to search for Trevor.
A loud banging sounded at Draco’s door, and he swung it open. “You had better have a bloody good reason why you are —”
Pansy flung herself at him. “Please, don’t make me go! We have been at it for over a moon, looking for that stupid toad or fly or whatever it is!”
“He might have us search the Forbidden Forest today!” Blaise added from behind.
“I sincerely apologise,” Draco replied insincerely and unapologetically, prying Pansy off of himself, “but an order is an order.”
There was a knock on Draco’s door once more. Pansy and Blaise backed away, but Draco dragged them towards it by the collar of their robes. He opened the door and shoved his friends out without letting his visitor utter a word. “Here you are, Prince Harry: two perfectly healthy Slytherins ready to scour the grounds for a poor classmate’s lost pet.”
“Actually, I came to tell you Trevor has been found,” said the Light Prince, stepping aside nimbly to avoid the falling Slytherins. “He was in the kitchens keeping Snolly the house-elf company. Professor McGonagall is changing him back as we speak.”
“Is that so?” With a sigh, Draco pulled his friends back towards him. “And here I was, getting excited to watch them work tirelessly.”
Prince Harry cleared his throat. “You remember our deal from a moon ago, yes?”
Draco waved a hand at him dismissively. He had lost the bargain, but it was of no matter. The power was still his. “Yes, yes, I am a man of my word. We can discuss at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Er, actually, can we discuss now? There is something I need to talk to you about.”
The blond regarded him for a few moments before stepping aside to let him in. His friends tried to dart in before the other prince, but he held them back with a fixated stare. Even when Prince Harry had crossed the threshold, he denied them entrance. Before going in himself, Draco ordered them not to seek him out until the sun had risen.
“What do you need to discuss with me?”
After a moment’s pause, Prince Harry spoke. “Well, it is only mid-October, but I thought I should tell you now. I suppose you know about my family’s winter gala?”
Draco nodded. Every wizarding family knew about the Light Royals’ tendencies to throw parties and gatherings for any occasion. More often than not, they were open to anyone who wanted to attend, no matter their status or affiliations.
“I know Darks do not like gathering with Lights,” Harry continued, “but I would like for you to be there.”
The Dark Prince took a seat on his chaise lounge placed at the foot of his bed. He allowed silence to sink in for several moments and watched as his betrothed twisted the ring on his left finger nervously.
Holiday parties were Light customs. For Dark Wizards, the holidays were spent with family and the closest of friends. Allowing strangers from far and wide into one’s home was a safety hazard that would allow a disguised enemy near loved ones.
Crossing his legs one over the other, Draco gazed at Prince Harry steadily. “You wish for me to attend?”
The brunet nodded. “As part of the truce.”
“You say that so easily because it is not you who will be surrounded by his enemies,” Draco pointed out. He arched a brow challengingly.
Seemingly taken aback, Harry replied, “I am not a snake, Prince Draco. I would not take advantage of you like that.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I suppose I will be attending your party since I lost our wager, Prince Harry, but if you must insult my House, I ask that you not do it in my presence.”
“Good evening, Prince Draco.” Harry bowed and made for the door.
When his betrothed had gone, the Dark Prince began his nightly routine. The time was nowhere near when he would sleep — he had yet to have supper — but he wished to see no one until past sunrise.
How had his life come to this? Only a summer ago he had been making life difficult for his greatest enemy, but now the two were engaged. They were to spend their time together and get along. He wished to go back to his primary school age, when he had yet to be burdened with the duties of a prince and spent his days making “Potter Stinks” badges.
The prince’s attempts at sleep that night were fruitless. His dreams woke him fitfully, and by the time the sun rose, he felt as if he had not closed his eyes once. He toyed with the idea of skipping his morning lessons in favour of actually sleeping, but a knocking at his door forced him to his feet.
As he opened his door, he dully wondered why lately so many people seemed to want his attention so often.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” Blaise stood in his doorway. “You should eat.”
Draco changed into casual robes, washing his face and brushing his teeth before joining his friend in the common room. “Where is Pansy?”
“Oh, she’s down in the Great Hall saving us food in case the house-elves begin clearing away plates. What did the Prince want to talk about?”
The blond lazily covered his mouth as he yawned. “I fail to see how it is any of your business.”
Blaise glanced at him in surprise but nodded and said nothing more.
The Great Hall was mostly empty when they arrived, though the sun had hardly been up for more than an hour. Pansy and a few other students sat along the tables, chatting idly.
When the prince neared, she looked up. “There you are! Hurry and eat!”
“Did I miss something? Why is the Great Hall so empty at this hour?” Draco asked as he sat. He was not overly fond of Pansy ordering him around, but he was too tired to make a big deal out of it.
“Have you forgotten? It’s the first Quidditch game of the season this morning,” Blaise informed him dutifully.
Pansy nodded in agreement. “Classes are cancelled, and the whole school’s out to watch Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.”
“The whole school except us,” Blaise added.
“You don’t happen to have any blue, Your Highness, do you?” Pansy asked. “Gryffindor can’t win or I’ll curse myself!”
Draco ignored her. He grabbed a piece of toast and made for the doors. He was not particularly hungry, and the Quidditch match did not interest him, but starting his homework did not appeal to him yet.
His friends followed, chatting between themselves. They were unperturbed by his silence, as Draco frequently fell into quiet spells. Having known him since they were children, they had found that leaving him alone was the best course of action.
It seemed Pansy had been correct; the entire population of Hogwarts was in the Quidditch stands, clamouring for the game to start. Most seats were full, but that would not matter for Draco. The princes had their own spectator box, away from the crowd. Being royalty certainly had its perks.
He bid farewell to his friends before starting his climb. When he got to the top, he was greeted with the sight of his fiancé.
“Prince Harry.” He bowed slightly as he took his seat.
Harry inclined his head. “I wondered if you would be coming.”
“What wizard would miss the chance to watch a game of Quidditch?” Draco asked without much feeling. “It is the greatest sport we have.”
The Light Prince looked at him quizzically. “Do you think someone else has a better sport?”
A smile danced on his lips. “The merfolk of the lake have told stories of a popular sport they played when they lived elsewhere. Unfortunately, Professor Dumbledore has banned them from playing it while they reside on Hogwarts grounds. The great sport was drowning sailors.”
“That is a cruel game,” Harry growled. “You cannot possibly think it noble?”
“Cruel?” Draco almost laughed. “You seem to have forgotten who I am, dear Prince.”
Instead of answering, the brunet nodded at the field. “The game is about to start.”
He focused all of his attention on the field below him, as if determined to pretend Prince Draco did not exist. He watched carefully as Madame Hooch mounted her broom, released the Quaffle, and blew her whistle.
Draco did his best to properly enjoy the game, but Ravenclaw’s Chasers had an obvious advantage over Gryffindor’s new Keeper — the old one had graduated two years prior, and Gryffindor kept choosing new ones every few games. She was still adjusting to the opposing team’s tactics and kept falling for the same trick; Ravenclaw scored three times in one go.
From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry looking above them, which was odd. Their seats were high enough that hardly any player flew higher. He supposed a Beater was chasing a stray Bludger, but then he saw the quickest flash of gold.
The Golden Snitch.
If Draco reached out, he would probably be able to brush his finger against one of the fluttering wings. He taunted, “Your Seeker does not seem to be doing his job, is he?”
“No, he is not,” Harry replied irritably. “If I could, I would catch it myself.”
“Who is stopping you?” Draco asked.
Harry frowned. “The rules, probably.”
“Rules?” The Dark Prince stood and walked to the edge of their viewing box. “What rules are there for royalty?”
With a glance at his betrothed, he shot his hand out. The Snitch struggled for a few moments, but it soon gave up its attempts at freedom and furled in its wings.
“Prince Draco!” Harry gasped.
The blond sat back in his chair, twirling the Snitch through his fingers deftly. Luna Lovegood, who was commentating on the Quidditch match, did not announce the game over. No one had noticed the small ball being captured.
Holding it out to Harry, Draco said, “Have a bit of fun.”
Hesitantly, Harry accepted the Snitch. He held it gingerly, as if afraid it might burst into flight at any moment, and examined it. “Pretty…”
“Never seen one up close?” Draco asked. Harry was staring as if he had never set eyes upon a single precious gem or metal before.
The brunet shook his head. “I have never played Quidditch. My parents think it too dangerous for me to play.”
“Surely the Boy Who Lived can hold his own against a Bludger?” Draco shook his head. If this was how the Light Prince’s parents treated him, turning him Dark would be easier than Draco had anticipated.
“They have their reasons,” Harry defended hotly. “Besides, Quidditch is hardly elegant; what kind of prince would play?”
Surprise coloured Draco’s face. “Your own father. He was Gryffindor’s Seeker; he has a medal and plate in the trophy room.”
Harry’s brows furrowed, and a frown took over his face. Draco watched silently as the prince took one last look at the Golden Snitch before tossing it back into play.
The game lasted longer than one would hope. After Harry threw the Snitch, no one spotted it again for an hour. Most of the school had lost their enthusiasm, and even the players had begun to slow down and chat with their friends in the stands. When Gryffindor’s Seeker finally caught the tiny ball, hardly anyone was watching the game; he had to yell to get Professor McGonagall’s attention.
Draco stood as the match ended; without a word to Prince Harry, he took the stairs and waited for Blaise and Pansy. They did not have the luxury of crowds parting to let them pass. Almost immediately, Pansy began ranting about how boring the game was and how she wanted to hex all the Ravenclaw players for allowing Gryffindor to win; it took three glares before she finally stopped.
“Well, what do we do now?” Blaise asked. “There is still some time before lunch.”
“Up for a few rounds of Wizard’s Chess?”