Chapter seven
I stood in front of the lifts, impatiently tapping my foot on the tile floor. A dozen other witches and wizards crowded behind me, all just as annoyed at how long it was taking for the lifts to arrive today.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lavender Brown running towards me waving her hand, her overeager face shining with a thin layer of sweat. A massive heat wave had swept across the country that not even the magically cooled walls of the Ministry could keep at bay. I woke up this morning gross and sweaty. And even now, I was already afraid to take off my robes upstairs in fear of the sweat stains that were surely visible under my shirt.
“Heather! Where have you been?” Lavender asked, breathing heavy, as she came to a stop beside me.
“Um, nowhere?”
“I haven’t seen you around here, or at the Queens Head. I just thought maybe you left the internship or something.” Lavender followed me into the lift along with the dozen or so sweaty wizards behind us.
“Oh, yeah. I’m kind of grounded.” I immediately regretted saying that aloud because of how painfully juvenile it sounded.
“That’s unfortunate,” Lavender replied. We were silent for a moment as the lift doors closed. The lift jerked forward then upwards. Once it was moving a bit steadier, she began again. “I was going to invite you out tonight with the other interns. We’re having a get together to celebrate the end of summer.”
“Celebrate the end of summer?”
“You know, the end of the program! It’s going to be so much fun; you should try to make it. Everyone will be there. Matt will be there,” she said with a smile.
I tried not to think about why she pointed that out.
“Uh, maybe. We’ll see. My mom’s been a real b—”
The lift jerked to a stop, and I almost rammed into the witch in front of me.
“Just let me know! We’ll be at Big Ben, 9 o’clock!” Lavender said as she hurried out of the lift with a few other Ministry employees.
It wasn’t until after the doors closed did it register what she had just said. Big Ben? As in, THE Big Ben?
Once Malfoy waltzed into the office ten minutes after me, looking particularly put together and not sweaty in the slightest, I was still thinking about what Lavender had said. Seconds after he sat down, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Is there something inside Big Ben that I should know about?” I asked.
Malfoy froze in the middle of placing his notebook on the desk and turned to look at me. Slowly, he raised one eyebrow in amusement.
“I don’t know, is there?”
I sighed, my patience for his antics running thin in this heat. Although, I couldn’t ignore the mischievous glint in his eye and the way it made my stomach flip inside out.
“Apparently the other interns are having an end-of-the-summer party inside Big ben.” I waited for Malfoy’s reaction, but he remained unphased. “Inside Big Ben!” I repeated, louder this time.
“You clearly don’t get out much,” he smirked.
“You knew about this?” I asked, ignoring his comment.
“About the party? No.” He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers across his stomach. “About Big Ben? Everyone knows about that. Well… not everyone it seems.”
He wore a moss green suit today with a grey waistcoat. I wondered how he was able to wear all of that and not be sweating like the rest of us. He adjusted the silver cufflink on his left sleeve, and I remembered I was in the middle of saying something.
“So, it’s like a secret?”
Malfoy shrugged. “It’s been a common party spot for teenage witches and wizards for only a few decades or so.”
“How have I not known about this?” I threw my hands up in the air.
Malfoy chuckled darkly.
“Like I said, you must not get out much.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to admit it. I pouted for a minute before speaking again.
“So, are you going?”
Malfoy was looking at something on his desk. “Hm?” he said absentmindedly.
“Are you going? To the party?” I moved my quill from one side of my desk to the other, lining it up perfectly straight alongside the edge of my scroll of parchment. I studied the wood grain while I waited for his response.
“Oh. No.”
I jerked my head up.
“Why not?”
“Simple. I wasn’t invited.” He was still messing with something on his desk, his body still laid back in his seat, but he was purposefully not looking in my direction.
“Psh, you don’t need an invitation,” I said.
“You got one, didn’t you?” He said.
“I—well, Lavender just happened to run into me in the lifts and mentioned it. It wasn’t like a formal invitation or anything…”
Malfoy finally looked up at me and our eyes met. His expression was no longer lighthearted. The smirk was gone, the amused glint in eyes replaced by a shadow that made the back of my neck prickle. His back straightened in the chair and his gaze didn’t falter.
“Trust me. I’m not invited.” He said, his voice low.
I cleared my throat and looked back down at my desk, breaking our eye contact first.
“Well, I’m inviting you,” I said, the patterns in my desk suddenly more interesting to look at than anything else in the room.
Malfoy scoffed.
“On whose authority?” He asked. When I looked up, the hardness in his face lightened, but the shadow behind his eyes remained.
“It’s an intern party, is it not?” I said, “I’m an intern, you’re an intern. I believe we both have the authority to invite whomever we want!” I sat up straight and nodded my head with as much authority I could muster.
Malfoy looked like he was holding back a laugh, the darkness in his eyes lightening just a tad more.
“Hm.” He hummed, before looking back down at his desk.
“So, that’s a yes?”
“It’s a maybe. I might have plans.”
“I didn’t say what night it’s on.”
He looked up. “Fine, when is it?”
“It’s tonight. 9 o’clock.”
“Ah, in that case… I might be busy.”
He is insufferable. I ignored him and turned back to organizing my desk. I can’t believe it’s the last day of the internship. Five weeks ago, I dreaded coming here. I spent my entire morning plotting ways I would never have to return. I didn’t know that five weeks later, I would still be here, somewhat happy with my decision to stay. I tried not to glance back at Malfoy as I thought of the reasons for why I did stay. The reasons why I felt sad that it was ending.
Grimilda appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, looking less put together than normal. Her beehive hairdo was frizzy, and she had discarded the matching jacket to her pantsuit.
“There are a few closets in the back hallways that could use some attention. While you’re back there, please be sure to only discard the chartreuse and vermillion folders. Anything in a box dated before 1750 can be discarded, no matter what’s inside.” She wiped her forehead with a handkerchief and sighed. “And that should be it. Oh! And Walter has a stack of papers in his office to be destroyed.” Grimilda finished, looking more exhausted than she did when she walked in.
I volunteered to take care of the closets while Malfoy was stuck with the papers from Walter’s office.
I left my robes behind in the office, it was too hot for that stuffy thing. Thankfully, the air was a big cooler in the back hallway far away from the main part of the building. It was a little creepy back here, where no sound permeated from the rest of the offices, and the many closets and bookshelves crammed with old books, files, and boxes were daunting to look at.
I started with the first closet I laid eyes on. There wasn’t a working light inside, but I could see from the light coming from the hallway that this closet hadn’t been touched in a millennium. Grimilda warned me they were bad, and she was correct. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. There were definite signs that something had been nibbling on the corners of boxes and papers.
I took a deep beath and began to work. A dumpster nearby was bewitched to disintegrate anything that touched the bottom. I was careful to only throw out the appropriately colored folders and marked boxes, leaving everything else that was to be saved on one side of the closet.
By the time I was done with the first closet, I had sweat dripping down my back. I bet Malfoy isn’t sweating destroying those old papers, I thought bitterly.
I moved to the next closet, also without a light, and disgusting. I decided since no one was around, it would be alright if I kicked off my shoes. My mother would be aghast if she saw me do this. She forced me to wear sensible heels and tights to work every day, thinking this is what makes someone’s professional career flourish.
I wiped my brow with the back of my hand and began to work.
I worked my way down, hauling boxes off the shelves, throwing out old papers and folders, scourgify-ing the shelves so the dust disappeared, and wiped off as much dirt and grime from the rest of the items stored in the shelves. I finally reached the last row of shelves. I crouched down to grab another box wedged between the final shelf and the floor. As I pulled it free, something else was let loose, and I jumped back in fright. My shriek, mixed with the squeal of an unidentified creature, was muffled by the small closet. Nevertheless, I stumbled backwards, losing my balance with the heavy box in my arms. I crashed into something behind me, something with arms and hands and a body that stopped me from falling on my arse.
I shrieked again, but when I turned my head around, I saw it was only Malfoy. Malfoy holding me from behind. His face twisted into a maniacal smirk that made me fearful in an entirely different way.
“Careful there, Winters,” he said, his lips dangerously close to my ear.
His hands were cupping my elbows, keeping me steady. I was in still in the position of someone about to fall, my legs bent, my back pressed against his chest. I could smell his cologne, feel the heat of his body, the brushing of his breath against my shoulder.
“M-Malfoy—” I stuttered, my voice coming out in a not-so-elegant way.
“Tucked all the way back here, if you fell, no one would hear your call for help,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken.
Our height difference was already considerable. And now, with my legs bent, he made an even greater effort to crane his neck down to talk into my ear. I felt his breath rustle the hair covering the side of my face.
Despite the heat, I felt a shiver go down my spine.
“You heard me,” I said, my words sounding small and weak.
“Ah,” he breathed, leaning closer. “I know what to listen for.”
My breathing hitched.
Malfoy slid his hands up my arm, past my elbows, and gripped my biceps.
“Ready?” He whispered.
Before I could answer, or even think of an answer, he pushed me forward, forcing my legs to catch myself as I stepped forward and regained my balance.
I wobbled for a second. Malfoy’s hands were still on my arms. He didn’t let go until I was standing up straight.
The box in my arms felt even heavier than it did a moment before. I turned around to find Malfoy standing much too close, his tall frame blocking the doorway and most of the light that came in from the hall.
I took a small step back and my heel collided with the bottom shelf. My shoulder blades were touching the boxes sticking out from the shelves behind me.
Nowhere to move.
“Th-thanks,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.
“You should really be more careful,” he said, his voice just as low. He raised his right arm and placed his hand on a shelf behind me, blocking the small section of space between his body and the door.
I could barely make out his face as all the light was shining from behind him. But he had his eyes trained on me and the self-satisfied smirk on his face. I could see that much.
I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. The cramped space, the dust, the overwhelming scent of sandalwood, bergamot, and something citrusy coming off Malfoy’s robes. My head felt dizzy. Just like how I felt in France, like I did that night after we danced for hours…
“Grimilda wanted me to tell you something…” he said, trailing off. He was relishing in keeping me captive, I realized.
“Oh, if only I could remember what it was,” he continued, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Just spit it out,” I interjected, my voice coming out raspy as well. I blamed it on the dust, on the heat. I blamed it on everything except for the way my heart felt like it was in my throat, blocking my airways.
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. He repositioned his body weight to lean against the arm that blocked my path. There was even less light inside the closet. Less space between our bodies. If it weren’t for the box clutched against my chest, I feared how much closer he would get.
“Somebody’s impatient,” he tsked.
I wanted to roll my eyes, groan in annoyance, or say something snarky, but nothing came to mind.
His head tilted to one side, his eyes studying me in a way that reminded of big cats when a fresh piece of meat is dropped into their enclosure.
“Malfoy, would you just—”
“Shh,” he said and leaned closer. My mouth shut automatically.
I clutched the box tighter. Malfoy’s eyes flickered across my face. He reached his free hand towards me. My eyes fluttered for a moment and a small gasp escaped my mouth against my will. In a split second, his fingers plucked something from my hair just by my temple.
He brought his hand back and held it up. In between his pointer and middle finger, he clutched a cluster of dust.
“Hm,” he hummed. He let it drop from his fingers to the ground between us.
“You-you were saying?” I asked, my breathing so shallow I was on the verge of passing out.
“Oh yeah,” he mumbled. He looked back up to me, his eyes finding mine. “Grimilda said you can go home early if you’d like. Kind of her, isn’t it?”
I nodded my head, afraid to speak.
“That’s all.”
He stood back, finally letting his arm drop from the shelf behind me. A sudden stream of light from the hallway poured into the closet. He stepped back and out of the doorway, then swept his arm aside as though letting me go next. I turned around and set the box back down on the shelf where I found it. When I stood back up, my body felt so much lighter without it in my arms.
After a few steps, I realized I forgot my shoes and turned back.
Malfoy had my black loafers hooked under his pointer and middle finger, holding them out to me.
“Thanks,” I muttered before grabbing my shoes and quickly putting them on.
Before I turned back around, Malfoy winked at me and entered the closet.
“You’re not leaving?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he replied, his back to me.
“Oh.”
“Now go on. You have a party to get ready for, don’t you?” he said, his back still to me, but I could hear the smirk in his voice.
I opened my mouth to reply, thought better of it, and left as he instructed.
My head was still spinning as I gathered my things from the office. I almost forgot to say goodbye to Grimilda and Walter. I made sure to give them my thanks and make half-hearted promises to contact them after graduation.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Malfoy and what he said. He made it out to seem as though I needed six hours to get ready for a party, a party I wasn’t even sure I would attend. I mulled over that, among other things, while laying on top of my bed with the fan on high above me.
By the time my mother got home, I had a game plan.
“How was work, mom?” I asked as I joined her in the kitchen. She was still in her work clothes, minus her robes and heels, and was pouring herself a cup of tea.
“It was fine. Boggins kept us all in a meeting for over three hours and we accomplished absolutely nothing, so that was rubbish.” She scooped one spoonful of sugar into her mug, added a splash of milk, then looked up at me. She observed my tank top and shorts and tilted her head to the side. “What time did you get home?”
“A couple hours ago. Grimilda let us off early in the spirit of summer.”
“That was nice of her,” she responded, then opened the fridge. She emerged with an apple and yogurt cup.
“Yeah, she thought it would be nice to let us go home and get ready for the intern event tonight… but I’ve just been reading in my room.”
“What event?” My mother was focused on grabbing a spoon from the drawer, so I proceeded cautiously.
“It’s nothing, just this event they put together for the end of the internship program. All the Ministry interns are going.”
I fiddled with a napkin on the counter and tried to keep my composure.
“I didn’t hear about this. It’s at the Ministry?”
I nodded my head. When I looked up, my mother was looking at me intently, her expression unreadable.
“It’s tonight at 8.”
“Hm.” She paused. “And you want to go to this?”
I shrugged and looked back down at the counter. “I mean, it sounds fun. It’d be nice to see everyone one last time before school starts.”
At that moment, my dad entered the kitchen. Sensing that something was up, he looked from me to mom and asked what was going on.
“Heather wants to go to an event tonight at the Ministry. Apparently, they are hosting something for the end of the internship program,” my mother responded.
“Oh, that sounds fun. It’s tonight?”
I nodded my head. If I got lucky, my dad would come to my aid.
“Well, why can’t she go?” He continued.
“Gerald! She’s grounded, do you not remember?”
I did my best not to roll my eyes.
“Come on, it’s the end of her internship! That’s something we can bend the rules for just a bit, can’t we?”
My mother was silent.
“Your curfew is still midnight.” She said suddenly. My head snapped up and I looked at her in shock.
“Of course,” I said eagerly.
“And I’m driving you there.”
“What?” I said, keeping most of the disdain from my voice.
“I will drop you off and your father will pick you up,” she continued as though I hadn’t spoken.
I looked at my dad, my mouth agape, trying my hardest not to jeopardize my opportunity, but also not wanting my parents shepherding me to the Ministry when the party wasn’t even there.
“I think she can handle getting home on her own, don’t you?” he said tentatively.
“She’s proved to us time and time again that she cannot,” my mother said firmly.
“Honey…” my father looked to my mother, his own eyes pleading her to be flexible. “Heather completed this internship; I think we can grant her one night to enjoy the rewards of her hard work.”
My mother’s face softened ever so slightly.
“Fine. But I will be dropping you off and I expect you back home by midnight.”
“2?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t stretching my limit.
“Midnight,” she said between her teeth.
I shrugged, not wanting to fight her on this.
“Thanks, mom. And dad!” I said with a big smile. I rushed forward and gave them both a quick one-armed hug before racing out of the kitchen.
I heard my father say something more to my mom, but I was already out of the kitchen and couldn’t make it out.
I climbed the stairs to my room and smiled once more. My legs felt jittery and my palms sweaty. I’ve never felt this way before. And as hard as I tried not to admit it, I knew that it wasn’t the party making me feel this way. It was one certain individual who wormed his way into my brain and made me feel like a complete and utter fool. An individual who wasn’t even confirmed to be there tonight.
I wiped the smile off my face, but it kept creeping back, and I let it.
Two hours, five different outfits later, my mom waited for me by the car to take me to the Ministry of Magic.
“Are you forgetting something?” She asked as I walked out the front door.
“Uh,” I had my wand, my ID, some muggle and wizarding money just in case, “I don’t think so.”
“A jacket, Heather,” she said, her eyes on my bare shoulders.
“Oh, come on mom, it’s not work.”
She pursed her lips and remained in her spot. She wasn’t budging.
I went back inside, grabbed my jean jacket from my bedroom floor, and went back outside with it on.
“Happy?” I asked. My mother, not looking happy, sighed and got into the car.
My dress was nothing indecent, but it was on the shorter side and had straps just wide enough to cover my bra strap. It was a cute gold and black plaid pinafore dress that came above my knees. I had even transfigured it to appear longer for my mother’s sake. I was surprised my mother didn’t say anything about me wearing my combat boots, instead of sensible heels, but she seemed to have chosen my exposed shoulders as her one allotted criticism.
The car ride was silent. Not even the radio was on. I stared out the window and chewed on the inside of my lip, anxious for the night ahead.
Finally, we pulled up the curb across the street from the familiar red phone booth. As I reached for the car door, my mother cleared her throat. I turned to look at her and she had her eyes on me.
“Yes?” I asked, my hand still poised to open the door.
“I know that this internship was not something you were… thrilled to do. But I wanted to let you know that I am glad to see you have completed it and without complaint. I know you worked very hard this summer. Grimilda spoke nothing but praise of your work ethic. And, well, I guess what I am trying to say is that I am proud of you, Heather.”
There was a strange look on my mother’s face that I’m not accustomed to seeing. There was a softness in her eyes. I don’t know what to say. I clear my throat and try to swallow instead.
“Thanks, mom.”
“You deserve to celebrate tonight with your friends. And I hope you have a good time. And be safe. And home by curfew.” She concluded.
“Thanks, mom. I, um, I’ll see you when I get home.”
I hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and got out of the car.
She watched me cross the street and enter the phone booth. I picked up the phone and pretended to dial. As soon as my mom’s car started to drive away, I placed the phone back down and waited a few minutes before exiting the booth.
Big Ben was only a short walk away. And even though it was still stiflingly hot outside, I was determined to maintain the minimal makeup I put on for the sake of this party. I transfigured my dress back to its original length, then decided to go a tad bit shorter, and began my walk.
The walk was brutal. But Big Ben was finally in my eyesight. I looked around, unsure of where to go next, and began to fear that this was all a terrible idea. There were plenty of people walking around, as well as a sturdy looking gate blocking entrance to the actual building, so I wasn’t sure where the entrance would be. I wandered up and down the sidewalk, trying not to look suspicious or lost, as I scoped out the place.
“Heather?” A familiar voice called out my name. I turned around to see the friendly, curly-haired head of Matthew.
“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here,” I said, relief washing over me. Matt smiled, and may have blushed, but I looked away. “Do you know how to get to this party?” I asked. I craned my neck to look up the side of the tower.
“Yeah, it’s actually down the street a little. Lavender told me how to get in.” Matt motioned to the other direction down the sidewalk.
I followed him down the sidewalk to a skinny alleyway around the corner. There was a small gap in the fence just big enough for a cat to get through. But as we approached it, the bars in the fence expanded to fit our bodies.
“Well, that’s clever,” I remarked.
“Now for the hard part,” Matt said, his voice low.
We walked through the courtyard swiftly, keeping close to the walls. I followed behind Matt as close as I could without stepping on his heels. He led us to a back garden where a shed stood amongst some weeds and shady trees.
He took out his wand and approached the shed door. Matt placed his hand on my hip and moved me forward, so I was standing nearer him.
“Read this after me,” he said, showing me a slip of paper that came from his pocket.
“Intrae possumus,” he whispered.
Matt placed his wand on the shed door.
I read the slanted writing and said: “Partium faciemus.”
I placed my wand next to Matt’s.
The door began to shudder and slowly dissolve. I stepped back as it fell away. A dark entryway was revealed. Matt looked at me and grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“After you,” he said with a flourish of his hand.
“Why thank you,” I said as I stepped forward.
We entered an earthy tunnel. Once the door closed behind us, we were in complete darkness. I knew that Matt was behind me only because I could hear his breathing.
“Lumos,” he said, his voice echoing in the dark.
“Not creepy at all,” I remarked. The small glow from his wand barely illuminated our faces or more than three steps ahead.
Matt placed his hand on the lower part of my back once more to guide me forward, a motion that I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to allow or not. I lit my own wand and picked up my pace so that his hand fell away.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Matt said after we had been walking in silence for a few minutes.
“Yeah, well, here I am,” I replied. I tried not to stumble on the uneven ground while still keeping my wand lit.
“Lavender said you were grounded, is all.”
I rolled my eyes, glad that Matt couldn’t see it. Of course, Lavender would pass that information along.
“I’m just not in the best place with the parents at the moment. But it’s no big deal.”
We turned a corner, and I began to wonder how long this tunnel would last. But as I looked ahead, I noticed something with a light in the distance.
“Ah, finally!” I said as I quickened my pace.
A wooden door with a small lantern beside it greeted us ahead. The door was nestled into the wall of the tunnel and had no doorknob. I didn’t know what to do, so I pushed on the middle of the door. With a creak, it swung open.
And suddenly, I was inside Big Ben.
It was everything and nothing like I expected. The four walls of the enormous room all looked out onto the clock faces of the tower. Each window, over 20 feet tall, was covered in complicated mechanics that kept the clock ticking. The ceiling above was even taller, coming to a point, with the bell (the actual Big Ben), magically suspended in the air above the partygoers’ heads. My stomach turned at the thought of that spell failing and dropping mid-party, but I quickly pushed that thought aside.
The expansive room had been decorated for the party with green, gold, red, and purple streamers. Chairs and tables were scattered about, along with a makeshift stage with a band starting to play. There were so many people, more people than there were in the internship that’s for sure. I scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces.
“This is insane,” Matt said, coming up behind me.
“This is your first time here, too?” I asked.
“I guess you could say I don’t get out much,” he admitted.
I glanced at him. He was looking around the room with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide.
“You can say the same about me,” I replied.
He looked at me and smiled, the dimple on his left cheek pronounced. I noticed he had nice, green eyes.
“Shall we?” I said, motioning with my arm in the same way he did before. Matt chuckled and responded, “We shall.”
We made our way to a table laden with drinks. There was an assortment of brightly colored, fizzing drinks, as well as the familiar butterbeer and firewhiskey. I decided on a popping orange drink in a tall glass that had a sweet scent. Matt will with a green drink that seemed to be hissing.
“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass to mine.
We both took long sips from our cups, and we both grimaced when we finished.
“Mine tastes like fruitcake and… soap?” I said as I took another sip, finding more flavors that weren’t there the first time.
“Mine tastes like toothpaste and erasers, somehow,” Matt said. He set his glass back down on the table and grabbed a butterbeer. I chugged the rest of my drink, now getting hints of toffee and orange creamsicle, then grabbed a swirling purple drink.
I was perfectly comfortable to stand by the drink table and people watch all night, but Matt was more of a sociable type. He greeted the people around us and struck up a conversation within minutes. Aside from the night at the pub, I didn’t typically hang out with people my age. I was either at home, or at a nightclub where no one knew my name. I had acquaintances at school, but no one I was close enough with to go see during the summer holiday. Now that I was entering my last year at Hogwarts, I felt a twinge of regret as I saw the crowd around me, people my age having a great time with all their friends they had made at school. I finished off my drink as quickly as I could.
“Oh, there’s Lavender,” Matt said, pointing to the other side of the room. I followed his gesture and saw Lavender, wearing a poofy pale yellow dress that reminded me of Easter, talking to some other Gryffindors. I recognized a couple, including the distinctive red head of a Weasley. Except this was the girl, who I only knew in passing.
We walked over to join them. Lavender squealed when she saw me, introduced me to everyone, and asked me a million times if I had grabbed myself a drink.
“The pink one is my favorite,” she gushed. “It tastes like bubblegum!”
Matt stood closely beside me while we mingled. He was forced to try one of the pink drinks along with me, while Lavender watched our reactions. It did, in fact, taste like bubblegum, which I discovered I didn’t enjoy.
As the hours went by, I stopped checking the door whenever someone entered the party and tried to focus on the conversations around me instead. More people joined our corner, some people wandered off, and Lavender insisted on bringing me another awful pink drink that I couldn’t bear to finish.
At each hour, Big Ben would chime, and everyone’s conversations would stop. Instead, we were all to take a shot with the first chime. After the third round of this, I decided it was best to hide whenever Big Ben chimed again or else, I’d be on my arse.
“I’m already dreading our NEWTS this year. I barely survived OWLS!” A Ravenclaw named Amelie said.
I merely nodded my head, definitely too drunk to be getting into a conversation with a Ravenclaw about grades and exams. There’s a reason why I’m in Hufflepuff.
“Excuse me, I need to… go over there,” I said before escaping the conversation.
“That was brutal,” Matt said, startling me. He had followed me without me realizing and now stood beside me as I eyed the finger sandwiches.
“I think that Ravenclaw was testing you, you were right not to engage,” he said. He leaned closer to talk over the music which was particularly loud over here.
I laughed, the image of a Ravenclaw giving me a test being the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard. The laughter came easy, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of all the drinks I had, or if Matt was really that funny.
“Can you imagine?” I replied, shouting over the drums.
“Oh, I can! I’ve had Charms with Flitwick! His tests are impossible.” Matt was standing closer to me now, probably so I could hear him over the music. That was definitely why.
“Flitwick! Don’t even get me started. If Amelie heard what I got on his OWLS, she’d faint.”
It was Matt’s turn to laugh hard now. He threw his head back and let loose a laugh that was much louder than my joke called for, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. When he regained himself, he grabbed onto my elbow and leaned forward. The dimple on his left cheek caught my eye again.
“She’d get admitted to St. Mungos if she heard mine,” he admitted.
The line for the food and drinks moved and we shuffled forward. Matt’s hand had somehow found its way back to my waist, as though I couldn't guide myself forward on my own. He handed me a butterbeer and I turned to face him.
“To not being a Ravenclaw,” he said, as he clinked his glass against mine. “Even if they would let us in, we’re perfectly fine where we are!”
“Cheers!” I said and took a long sip. “Hufflepuffs are better anyways.”
“I can’t argue with you there,” Matt replied.
Our eyes met. I studied the light green of his irises, reminiscent of spring mornings and freshly mowed grass. Far from grey storm clouds and gloomy skies. His dimple was still visible as he had a small smile on his face. I realized I had been looking at his lips and quickly looked back to his eyes. His own eyes flickered to my lips and then to my eyes. My heart pounded in my chest. The band seemed to be playing quieter now, but maybe the entire party had just gone silent, or was that just me?
“Is that Malfoy?”
“Malfoy?”
The world suddenly came back into focus. The band went back to playing at full volume, the party loud and chaotic as it was a minute ago, the butterbeer in my hand cold and damp. I broke eye contact with Matt to find the voice that had just spoken. Did I hear them correctly?
It was clear that I wasn’t the only one whose attention was now dragged to the entrance. I overheard more mutterings, mentions of his name, questions of why he was here, and people craning their necks to see. I stepped around Matt, who looked confused, and tried to see better through the crowd.
And there he was.
Malfoy moved through the crowd as though he was parting the seas. A god among men.
He took up all the air in the room. He was out of place in the best way. Was it his life’s mission to outdress everyone all the time? His mere presence made you question whether it was you who was dressed inappropriately, as though it was common to wear three-piece suits to teenage parties.
I watched him walk past. He didn’t turn to look at me, didn’t acknowledge my presence, but he also didn’t look at anyone else in the room. I wondered for a moment if I had seen any Slytherins here, anyone else who would draw his attention, but I couldn’t think of anyone.
“What is he doing here?” Matt asked, yet again startling me as I forgot he was there. He slid his hand onto my back, moving me slightly toward him so that our hips touched, as though it was his duty to keep me close, safe.
I moved out of his grasp and shifted my weight to my other foot.
“He’s an intern, isn’t he? It’s an end-of-the-internship-program party.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s invited,” Matt replied.
I looked up at him, the annoyance clear as day on my face as I was too buzzed to try and hide it. He looked back at me, his dull green eyes and plain face not understanding why I was so upset.
“You should try being a little more welcoming, you know. It’s not very Hufflepuff of you.”
Matt snorted. “I don’t have to be welcoming to a Slytherin who believes my family shouldn’t be accepted into Hogwarts. You know, half-bloods.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t even know him.”
“And you do?” Matt said. He stepped back and regarded me in a way that made my blood boil.
I rolled my eyes and brushed past him towards Malfoy. Matt grabbed my wrist as I tried to walk away.
I turned around; my brows furrowed in confusion. My balance was already unsteady from the three drinks and this sudden movement had me wobbling on my feet.
“What are you—” I started.
“Come on, Heather, let’s go dance or something. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Matt said. He kept his hand around my wrist and tried pulling me towards him.
“Let me go, Matt,” I growled.
“Just forget about him, come on,” Matt insisted. He wasn’t giving up.
I kept my feet planted and glared at Matt. As I was about to raise my cup, thinking of all the ways my butterbeer could ruin his light blue polo, I felt someone put their hand on my arm, pushing my hand back down.
“Who the f—” I turned around.
Malfoy stood behind me, his jaw locked as he stared straight ahead. He was staring straight at Matt, who was severely unprepared for the intensity of Malfoy’s gaze.
“She said let go,” he said, his voice low but still somehow carrying across the cacophony of the party and to Matt’s ears.
“We’re all good here, mate, no need to get involved,” Matt said. He was trying to act tough, but I could see the slightest change in his voice that sounded scared.
Malfoy smirked, nothing like the playful smirk usually has. This one was different, sinister.
“You really don’t want to see me getting involved, mate. Let her go.”
Matt swallowed, hard, and finally let his hand drop. I brought my arm back to myself and moved back away from him. Matt looked at me, his mouth open as he looked about to apologize. But before he could, Malfoy had his arm around my waist and was moving me along, past Matt, through the crowd, and across the room. We didn’t stop walking until we were far from Matt, and everyone else for that matter.
Malfoy grabbed both of my upper arms and turned me towards him. I almost gasped. He had a dangerous look on his face, anger like I have never seen before. His eyes bore into mine, searching for a reason to go back there and curse Matt to oblivion.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded yes.
“He didn’t hurt you?” He asked as he picked up the wrist that Matt had grabbed. He turned it over and inspected my skin. His hands were surprisingly gentle, his touch light.
“I’m fine,” I said as I pulled my hand out of his grasp.
“If that git did anything—” Malfoy looked around his shoulder back towards where Matt was still standing.
“Well, he didn’t!” I said, getting defensive.
Malfoy looked back at me. His eyes searched my face.
“I’m fine, Malfoy,” I repeated.
His jaw clenched and unclenched. He stepped back and wiped his hands across the front of his jacket.
“I see you got out of whatever plans you had tonight,” I said, trying to ease the tension.
Malfoy shrugged. He was still looking around the room and not at me.
“I see you convinced your mom to let you out of captivity,” he replied, trying to sound playful, but his shoulders were still tense. When he finally looked at me, I could still detect the hardness in his eyes.
“She can’t keep me captive forever,” I said.
Malfoy chuckled.
“I’m surprised you even showed up,” I admitted. The alcohol had me saying whatever comes to my mind, apparently.
“What? I can’t make an appearance at a party?”
“Well, there’s like no Slytherins here and you weren’t invited, remember?” I said with a wag of my finger.
“Are you uninviting me now?” Malfoy asked. He looked down at me, the familiar amused look on his face had returned.
“No,” I said. I wobbled on my feet. Malfoy’s arm reached out, but he quickly pulled it back to his side.
“I was just saying,” I continued, with no idea of where I was going, “‘I’m glad you showed up.”
Malfoy smirked. “Me too.”
“Now where are the bloody drinks?” He said before turning around and scanning the room.
“Ugh, follow me!” I huffed. I grabbed him by his arm and led him to the drink table.
“The pink one may look intriguing, but trust me, it’s disgusting,” I warned.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t even looking in its direction.” Malfoy grabbed some firewhiskey and a butterbeer, which he handed to me.
“How did you know I would want butterbeer?”
He shrugged and took a small sip of his glass.
“Heather! There you are,” Lavender said, coming out of nowhere and standing between me and Malfoy.
“Oh, hey Lav,” I said, taking a couple steps back from her.
“You have to come see this!” She said, her eyes wide.
Lavender grabbed me by the hand and dragged me with her away from the drinks, away from Malfoy. I turned to look at him as she whisked me away, but he was already gone.
“What could possibly be so important—” I began to ask until it became quite clear what she wanted to show me.
Ginny Weasley was currently levitating herself above a giant keg of butterbeer. She was upside down and chugging while holding her wand outstretched from her body to keep her afloat. A small crowd had gathered, and everyone cheered her on.
I couldn’t help but become just as entranced by this act of absolute buffoonery as the rest of the onlookers.
Before I knew it, I was trapped in a crowd of people cheering her on, slapping her back and congratulating her on such a feat. It wasn’t until the next person who tried to do it failed and fell flat on their back, did I remember I had been dragged away from Malfoy mid-conversation. I snuck away, hoping Lavender wouldn’t catch me, and tried to find him once more.
He was nowhere to be found. As soon as I was about to give up hope, I recognized a familiar dark figure standing on the far end of the room beside one of the four enormous clock face windows. I walked over to him. It was much quieter over here and almost peaceful as we stood beside the large window.
“Reminds me of the view in Paris,” I remarked.
Malfoy must have known I was approaching, because he didn’t flinch or seem surprised by my voice.
“Almost,” he replied, his eyes still on the view outside.
“All that’s missing is some duck.”
“I told you it was worth ordering,” he said as he finally turned to look at me.
The moonlight reflected across his face, highlighting his pale complexion and grey eyes. I thought of a marble statue, one that had been perfectly preserved. Maybe it was one of Medusa’s victims, a perfect specimen of a man frozen in time for all of eternity.
“You sure do know how to pick out a restaurant, I can’t fault you there.”
“I take that as a compliment. Although, I am interested to hear what faults you do think I have.”
“In your dreams, pretty boy,” I said. I looked out the window, quickly avoiding his eye contact after making such a statement. It was playful, I reminded myself, he won’t think any more of it.
“None I haven’t heard before, I’m sure.”
“Maybe we can compare them, see which ones I’ve gotten correct.”
“Let’s see… There’s the obvious: pompous, self-centered, entitled. But I don’t see how those are faults,” he said, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him.
“Then there are the more creative, ferret might be the most popular,” he continued. “And of course, my father’s favorite: disappointment, stain on the Malfoy name, waste of space.”
Malfoy stared out the window as he spoke, and I noticed a twitch in his jaw. I wondered if he may have taken his joke too far, wandered too close to the truth by accident.
“If it makes you feel any better, my mom has said almost the same to me, although her insults are more so in her gaze and not in her words.”
“Oh, yes, my father is a master of the devastating look.”
“It’s quite irritating, isn’t it? When they look at you as though you would be better off having never been born, when they were the ones who cursed you with existence in the first place?”
Malfoy let out a short laugh. “That’s rich, I’ll have to remember that next time.”
“My mom actually told me she was proud of me, believe it or not. Just tonight, she said it. She didn’t expect me to actually finish this internship.”
Malfoy glanced at me. I could feel his eyes studying my face as I kept my gaze on the London skyline.
“And how did that make you feel?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know if she meant it. But it was nice, I guess. To hear it for once.”
“Yeah, that would be nice…” Malfoy trailed off. I remembered the night at the Ministry when I saw Malfoy and his father talking.
“I know I shouldn’t have been listening that night,” I ventured, “but your father’s wrong. You did a lot this summer, for an internship you probably don't even need, but you were great at it anyways.”
Malfoy was silent. My drunk mouth decided to continue talking for some reason.
“And without your help, we probably would have never reached that agreement with Bulgaria! And don’t even get me started on my French, my grammar is rubbish, and without your help, we would have embarrassed ourselves with the French diplomats—”
“You’re right,” he interrupted.
My mouth opened and shut.
“Um, about what particularly…” I asked. I had said a lot of things.
“You’re right,” he looked at me, his eyes ablaze. “My father is wrong. But you’re wrong if you think I did all that work myself. Before you got there, the most work I completed was getting the other two interns to quit. I wasn’t taking that internship seriously in the slightest.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
“You said your mother was surprised you didn’t quit the internship,” he continued. “Why didn’t you?” Malfoy asked. He was facing me with his entire body now and at some point, he had stepped closer. I looked up at him, his face a good two feet above my own.
It was a simple enough question that should have a simple enough answer. So why couldn’t I answer it?
Why did I stay for that internship? I don’t care about international magical cooperation. I don’t care about securing my spot for a future Ministry position.
Why was I starting to feel that airy feeling in my head, that pounding feeling in my chest, feelings that always seem to appear when Malfoy and I end up alone together.
“I don’t know why,” I said lamely.
He shook his head, unsatisfied with my answer. He took a small step forward, the gap between us becoming even more nonexistent.
“Try again,” he said, his voice just barely above a whisper.
“I—” I started, but my voice cut off.
There was something happening. The air felt lighter, but my legs felt heavier. I couldn’t see the room around us, I couldn’t hear the party or the music. All I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Malfoy licked his lips, his tongue appearing for half a second and then they were glistening. I tried not to look at them, but once I looked back at his eyes, I found it difficult to maintain eye contact as well.
This moment stretched into hours, eternities, eons, and I didn’t want to let it go.
Big Ben chimed, once, shaking me out of this trance, twice, three times, it continued to chime, and I lost count.
Malfoy stepped back, resuming his nonchalant stance beside the window, unphased by the chiming, by the moment we had just shared. I was already beginning to doubt if we had shared a moment, or if it was all a dream.
“Wait, how many chimes was that?” I asked.
“Hm, don’t know,” Malfoy responded cooly.
“Was that twelve?” I stepped back, trying to see what the clock was showing, but it being reversed on this side of the window and the many drinks I had was making it difficult for me to tell.
“Shit! I have to get home. Fuck. Do they have a floo here? No, that’s crazy. Can I Apparate?” I reached for my wand, but Malfoy grabbed my hand before I could.
“You are in no state to Apparate,” he said firmly.
I swallowed hard and nodded my head.
“Fine, but I need to get to a Floo or something, fast.”
Malfoy sighed, seemingly exasperated, but he grabbed my hand anyways. “Just follow me.”
He walked me past the crowd to the other side of the room, through the wooden door, and into the earthen tunnel. In silence, he led me down the tunnel, lighting our path with his wand, while I stumbled behind him.
When we reached the outside, he moved me off to the side near the back of the garden where Matt and I had said our spells to get inside the secret tunnel.
“Hold on,” Malfoy said.
“Wait, what are you—”
“Just hold on, will you?” He growled.
I held onto his torso, too dazed to relish in the feeling, and squeezed my eyes shut.
A moment later, we were Apparating to The Leaky Cauldron. I stumbled away from Malfoy, who helped me regain my balance before we entered the pub.
“Why are we here?” There were plenty of drunk witches and wizards at the many tables, all too bothered with their own problems they didn’t notice two teenagers walking inside.
“Floo,” he said simply.
“Oh.”
“Just wait here,” he said, pointing to a chair by the fireplace.
He walked off to purchase some floo powder, while I sat down.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, I couldn’t keep anything straight. I shrugged off my jacket, feeling like I was suffocating if it was touching my skin any longer.
What is keeping Malfoy so long?
Just then he reappeared and motioned for me to get up.
“Here,” he held out a small pot of floo powder.
“Malfoy, thank you—”
“Don’t mention it. Just get home safe.”
I grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.
“G’night,” I said, looking at Malfoy from inside the fireplace.
“Good night, Winters,” he replied.
I took a deep breath, threw down the powder, and said my home address as clearly as I could.