Cufflinks

“Fuck yeah! Are you kidding? Of course I’ll help!”

Turned out, Hermione needed approximately thirty seconds (five, if she disregarded the time it took for her to actually explain her scheme) to get Ginny on board with her Quidditch plan. After her and Malfoy’s Potions class of the day in which neither of them had been able to focus in, they’d each rushed off in agreement to recruit the respective individuals that they’d both approved of.

Hermione had barged into the Gryffindor Common Room, seeking out a certain red-haired Chaser, and Ginny had only been too happy to listen.

In present time, Hermione grinned at Ginny’s infectious eagerness from where they both sat in their usual spots by the fireplace. She hadn’t doubted that her friend would agree to help, but it nevertheless still fueled the excitement that had been consistently brewing within her since earlier. “Okay, great! Malfoy’s talking to Zabini right now.”

Ginny snapped her fingers. “Oh, yeah! Blaise actually mentioned to me that he wanted an event like this to happen! What a coincidence.” She nodded confidently. “He’ll be on board for sure.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend. She didn’t know that was still going on. “Speaking of which, what’s been going on with you two?”

Ginny shot her a sly smile. “Oh, I’ve just been seeing him here and there. He’s actually really nice and caring—not what you’d expect from a Slytherin at a—” Her voice immediately broke off, and her smile faded. “Ah—I can’t even help it myself.”

Hermione nodded commiseratingly, but now Ginny had a frown on her face. “It’s terrible,” the redhead continued unhappily. “It’s like it’s become ingrained in all our heads. You know, the other day, I heard Zacharias Smith literally say that he dates girls from all Houses except for Slytherin.”

“Eurgh.” Hermione made a face.

“Yeah. I mean, thank Merlin that Slytherin girls can dodge that Bludger, but still.” Ginny laughed before her voice became serious again. “It’s an actual problem. After surviving a war like that together, there’s no really no time for this kind of hate to still prosper. I think we all need a little fun and collaboration. I know I sure as hell do.”

“Well, let’s make it happen,” said Hermione simply.

Ginny shot her a grin, twirling a loose thread from her robes in between her fingers. “You know, I think Fred would’ve loved this idea.” Her voice became stronger, a hint of sadness present as she stared into the fireplace, gaze unfocused. “No, I know Fred would’ve loved this idea. I’ve finally accepted that he’s gone, but I’ll never really stop grieving for him, and that partly means keeping him and his personality and memory alive. I know that if he was still here at Hogwarts, he’d immediately sign up to play Beater for Gryffindor.” She turned back to face Hermione determinedly, the intensity of her gaze matching with the flames of the fire. “I want to make this happen—for Fred, for the Slytherins, for me, and for everyone else who survived that blasted war and needs a little bit of fun and unity.”

Hermione squeezed Ginny’s hand, wondering how in the world she’d managed to find herself such a committed and admirable friend, before standing up and exhaling resolutely. “Right. Okay—Malfoy and I agreed to reconvene with our respective recruits in the Room of Requirement before lunch.” She checked the clock above the fireplace. “We should get going.”

They made quick work of reaching the seventh floor—with most of the other students in the castle making their way to the Great Hall or still stuck inside classes, Hermione and Ginny made it to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy in what felt like no time. With a nod from Ginny and a confirmation that there was no one around, Hermione turned to face the blank expanse of wall opposite of the tapestry.

She inhaled, clearing her mind, and let a single sentence flow to the forefront of her thoughts. I need a place to meet with Draco Malfoy.

“Got it,” said Ginny immediately, reaching forward to grasp the handle of the small, wooden door that had suddenly materialized in front of them. She turned the handle, opening the door, and slipped through, Hermione following without hesitation, before the door disappeared behind them like it was never there.

Inside resembled what Hermione would best categorize as the lobby of a luxurious Muggle hotel. Tall white pillars and ornate walls decorated with a variety of modern paintings and artwork reached skyward to meet at the edges of a wide, paned glass ceiling, from which a brilliant evening sky outside could be seen from within and from which numerous chandeliers dripping in diamonds hung above. Greek-style sculptures and plants adorned the sleek, shiny marble of the floor that wasn’t already covered with swirling oriental rugs. At one corner of the room was a gigantic mirror, its crust embedded with jewels, and spread out all around it were fancy leather armchairs, every few three or four circling around a mahogany coffee table.

The room itself was bigger than Hermione’s entire house back home with her parents, and she rolled her eyes when she spotted a familiar blonde lounged comfortably in one of the aforementioned armchairs.

“Must you always be so extravagant, Malfoy?” she called, her shoes clicking against the marble floor loudly as she made her way towards him. Next to Malfoy, similarly seated in an armchair and slowly coming out of view from behind a sculpture that looked suspiciously like the Muggle philosopher Aristotle, Blaise Zabini gave her a wave.

Malfoy shrugged casually. “Extravagance is my trademark, Granger.” His eyes slid from Hermione onto Ginny, who had been walking next to her and was now leaning against one of the white pillars in the room. “Ah, wonderful. You’ve finally arrived with the Weaslette in tow.”

“Hi, Malfoy,” said Ginny brightly. “You’re looking as ferret-y as ever. I like the permanent shadow of a scowl on your face—did you do that on purpose? It makes you look very posh. Or very old. Your pick.” Her smile widened when she saw Blaise, as did his, and she quickly plopped herself down in the empty armchair next to dark-skinned Slytherin.

“Well,” began Hermione clinically, approaching the large mirror in front of the armchairs. She conjured a quill with Glass-Adhering Ink. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business.”

“Hear, hear!” called Ginny.

Fun + Inter-house Unity, Hermione wrote on the mirror before turning to face her three-person audience. “Before we actually get into planning the logistics, I just want to emphasize that, yes, this event is meant to spread inter-house unity, but most of all, it’s for fun.”

“Well, I think those aren’t mutually exclusive,” Blaise pointed out.

“Hm.” Hermione paused. “You’re right.” She vanished the plus sign so that it now read Fun Inter-House Unity in large letters across the glass. She didn't even have to look in the reflection to practically feel the burn of Malfoy’s eye roll from behind her.

“I think we need a catchy name,” Ginny mused. “A title to the whole thing, something we can call it when someone asks what the whole thing even is. No offense, but I think secret midnight inter-house Quidditch game is a little too long.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, tapping her quill against her chin. “We need something that’ll draw attention and excitement. Something that’s alluring, that makes people want to know more.”

They were all silent for a few moments, deep in thought.

“The Game?” Ginny suggested after a minute.

Hermione considered it. “Too broad and ominous, I think.”

“Quidditch Fiasco,” offered Blaise.

Ginny shook her head at that. “That sounds like a card game.”

“The Midnight Games,” said Malfoy.

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed his suggestion before Ginny pointed at the blonde. “Hey, I like that!” Next to her, Blaise was nodding in approval. “That’s actually pretty alluring, I’d say—if someone brought up something called The Midnight Games to me, I’d wanna know more.”

“Also,” Blaise added pragmatically, “the plural word games will work in our favor if that first one turns out to be a big success and we have the opportunity to continue this plan past a singular game.”

Hermione stubbornly took a few extra seconds to consider it, not wanting to give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing her actually like his proposal, but she did have to admit that The Midnight Games checked off all the boxes.

“Yes, that’ll do,” she said grudgingly, ignoring the pleased smirk Malfoy was aiming at her. She wrote The Midnight Games above Fun Inter-House Unity on the mirror before stepping back to observe the glass. “Hm. Okay, I think it’s time to plan the actual logistics of the game.”

“I know that the second, third, and sixth-years all have big exams in Defense on Friday, so Thursday night’s out,” listed Blaise. “This weekend is another Hogsmeade trip, so Saturday and Sunday are out. So I think Friday at midnight—that is, the midnight leading into Saturday—is the only good option.”

Hermione nodded, writing Friday @ midnight on the mirror. “That’s what I was thinking. We’ll probably need to get to the Quidditch Pitch ahead of time to set up, so Friday’s a good day. Ginny, you think you can sneak any equipment we need from the Gryffindor team’s shed?”

Ginny waved her hand. “I got it. Don’t worry about equipment—aside from probably all of Gryffindor, I know probably most of the people on the Quidditch teams of the other House teams will gladly help. We got the jerseys, brooms, game balls, and anything else you can think of.”

“Great.” Hermione wrote Ginny—equipment on the mirror.

“Instead of jerseys,” came Malfoy’s voice, “how about we have everyone come and play in their pajamas.” He looked around at them lazily, twirling his wand between his fingers. “That way, it’ll be less formal and probably more entertaining to watch.”

Hermione and Blaise both snorted, while Ginny laughed out loud. “Wow, Malfoy. I didn't know you had the capability of contributing fun ideas!”

“Don’t humor yourself. I just want to see what demure, tartan pajamas Granger wears to bed.”

Hermione immediately sobered up, shooting a satisfied-looking Malfoy a glare before adding Come in pajamas onto the mirror.

“The biggest thing is figuring out how to pick the players,” said Blaise. He furrowed his brows in concentration. “We need to figure out how we’ll choose who to play and which Houses to play. It’s got to be a fair system with no bias.”

Ginny blinked, looking around. “Oh, is it not going to be the players of each respective House playing?”

“Well, that’s what I was thinking at first, but then what difference would there be between our game and the normal Quidditch games other than the whole secret aspect?”

“Hmm, that makes sense.”

“Blaise is right,” interjected Malfoy, looking serious for the first time since they convened. “That’ll be too boring. People are used to seeing the team players play each other on the pitch, and I’m sure there’ll be students who aren’t on the official teams who’ll want to give it a go. I think the switch-up of having new, different players will be more interesting. In fact—I think we should mix up the playing teams to have a variety of players from different Houses.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “A variety from all four Houses.”

Malfoy nodded. “Yes. We don’t need to do a championship of any sort—if this really continues, we can just mix it up every time so that each team has Slytherins, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. That way, it won’t be like we’re pitching House against House like normally. A game with Slytherin against Gryffindor may be fun, but it might ignite more animosity than unity.”

Ginny was nodding her head. “I think Malfoy’s right. But when we choose who plays, then we have to decide between skill or entertainment, because if we just let anyone sign up to play, then I’m sure that it might be entertaining at first, but then it’ll get boring when no one’s able to score or block or really do anything on the pitch at all.”

“Hm.” Hermione pondered Ginny’s words. “Well, I think we can have both as long as we have the right judgment picking the players. How about we pick two team captains for this week? They can host tryouts Thursday evening, which anyone from any House and year can try out for. Then, if this succeeds into a possible next game, this week’s captains can just choose their respective captains for the next game based on their best judgment, and so on and so on.”

“How about Malfoy and Harry?” suggested Ginny, smirking. “Nothing like a good-fashioned, friendly rivalry to start it all off. Plus, I know Harry just had a practical at Auror academy, which means he probably doesn’t have much to do for the next week anyway. He can definitely come down.”

Blaise snapped his fingers. “Potter’s presence will draw the crowd for sure.”

Hermione was nodding vigorously. “Malfoy’s one of the organizers, and no one can really object to Harry’s Quidditch skills,” she stated practically as she pondered it. From the side, Malfoy muttered something darkly, but Hermione ignored him. “I think that would work. I’ll Owl Harry, and Malfoy can set up his own tryouts on Thursday if he’s willing to do this.” She leveled a questioning look at said blonde.

“I’m in,” Malfoy muttered. He raised his head, a comical look of determination shining in his expression. “I’ll beat Potter’s arse.”

“Can we have Sir Cadogan be the commentator?” asked Ginny suddenly, grinning. “That’d be a good time. I’m sure someone can brief him on the rules of Quidditch beforehand and hold his portrait up during the actual game.”

The mere idea of Sir Cadogan’s voice reverberating around the Quidditch pitch made Hermione laugh out loud. She wrote his name down before turning back to Ginny. “Ginny, do you think you can find us some referees?”

“Definitely. I’ll recruit some from the House Quidditch teams. Those we won’t actually be playing on the field will definitely be willing to referee and enforce rules so that it doesn’t get dangerous.”

“Well then.” Hermione clapped her hands, beaming at the three people in front of her. “All we have to do now is spread word. The Midnight Games—Friday at midnight at the Quidditch pitch. Malfoy and Harry—who I’ll contact—will be team captains and host tryouts. Tell people to wear pajamas and to cast Disillusionment Charms and Muffliato when they make their way down to the pitch.”

“Younger students can have older students help them,” piped up Ginny.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded approvingly. “As long as we keep everything under wraps and spread the word through word-of-mouth only, teachers shouldn’t get wind of anything.” She sighed. “I thought of casting a variety of an extended Protean Charm on something that would allow us to spread the word through multiplying physical tokens, but that would be hard to manage, and we can’t guarantee that someone won’t misplace their token.”

“So no posters or anything?” Blaise asked.

Hermione shook her head. “No. Nothing that the teachers can trace back to us.” She frowned. “I just hope that depending on people to keep their whispers quiet is safe enough.”

“What about placing a jinx on a piece of parchment and having everyone sign into secrecy?” suggested Ginny excitedly. “None of us have forgotten that little incident with that snitch Marietta.”

Malfoy aimed an unimpressed look at Ginny before sighing loudly and raising a pale, aristocratic eyebrow. “Use your head, Weaslette. First of all, it’d be impossible for Granger to go around and collect signatures from practically the entire school. Secondly, even if someone rats us out and gets words carved on their forehead, that won’t stop the teachers from stopping the whole thing anyway.”

Ginny frowned. “Damn. Malfoy’s right.” She smiled at Hermione. “Honestly, Hermione, I think it should be fine. This is foolproof enough.”

However, Hermione barely processed her friend’s words. All this talk was genuinely making her worry, and the excitement she’d been feeling at first was slowly slipping away to be replaced by anxiousness.

“You guys don’t think anyone’s going to actually report us, right?” she blurted, suddenly feeling the familiar anxiety that came with rule breaking that she usually felt with Ron and Harry coming back with full force, despite this being her idea in the first place. “For breaking the rules? Any rule-followers?” 

All three of them stared at her blankly.

“What?” asked Hermione defensively. “It’s a valid question.”

Malfoy’s jaw was slightly agape as he looked at her in disbelief. “Granger, there’s nobody in this school who’s a bigger rule-following swot than you.”

Hermione glared at him. She sniffed, choosing the mature route of ignoring the insult over the route in which she punched him for the third time in his life. “Well, in that case, no matter what, I’ve already drafted a list of protective enchantments.” She straightened in a business-like manner. With a wave of her wand, at least a dozen spells appeared on the mirror, and she gestured to them. “These are spells I’ve either read about or used when I was on the run that’ll help with concealing any sound coming from the Quidditch pitch and generally making its activities unnoticeable to outsiders. Of course, with the pitch being that big, I do think I may need an extra bit of help to ensure maximum spell strength than if I were to do it alone.”

“I can definitely do that,” said Blaise confidently. He scanned the list clinically and nodded. “I’ve cast many of these before. If I can get Theo to participate, then he can help, too. He’s a good caster.”

Meanwhile, Ginny was squinting at the spells in amazement. “Cave inimicum? I’ve never even heard of that. Wow, Hermione, I think this’ll really be great.”

“You forgot Protego horribilis,” pointed out Malfoy casually. Hermione wordlessly added the spell to the list, trying to tamp down her own disappointment at having forgotten about that version of the Shield Charm and needing to have Malfoy out of all people to remind her.

“Anyway,” she sniffed primly, “I’ll do some more research, but that’s what I have for now. Luckily, we won’t need too many enchantments since the pitch is on the opposite side of the castle from the Headmaster’s quarters, so I guess we’ll just pray that McGonagall won’t find out prior.”

Malfoy suddenly held up a palm, looking around at them. “What about the portraits? The suits of armor? Ghosts and elves? We can’t trust that they won’t say anything.”

Ginny grinned and pointed her thumbs at herself enthusiastically. “Little do you all know, you’re in the presence of a major figure amongst the world of Hogwarts portraits, suits of armor, and ghosts.”

At their looks of confusion, Ginny spread her hands, as if to say duh. “Fred and George! You know how infamous their prankster legacies are.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And many of those pranks entertained the aforementioned portraits, armor, and ghosts.” She shrugged. “They found the twins funny, I guess—they’re celebrities to them. And so they know me as their sister. Peeves even saluted me once!”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in doubt. “Peeves saluted you?”

Ginny shrugged again. “Believe what you want, Ferret.” She ignored Malfoy bristling at the impromptu nickname. “Trust me—if I ask, they’ll spread the word and keep a lookout for us. It’s something entertaining to do for them—I bet they were extremely bored before Fred and George began to attend the school.”

“As for the elves,” interjected Hermione, nodding gratefully at Ginny, “I’ll talk to Kreacher.” She paused slightly. “Well, he’s warmed up to me, but it’d actually probably be best if Malfoy comes with me so that there’s an actual Black relative present when I ask.” At Malfoy’s look of puzzlement, she sighed. “Kreacher served Sirius.”

Understanding passed over Malfoy’s features. “Ah.”

“Great!” Ginny clapped gleefully, looking around at them all excitedly as she grasped one of Blaises’s hands eagerly. “I just know this is going to be brilliant.”

Malfoy only shook his head in faux-amazement, like he was experiencing the end of an era. “I never thought I’d see the day where Granger sheds her swottiness and becomes a full-blown rebel.”

Hermione didn’t even think it was an insult.