The Potions Mouse

Chapter 3

Draco stared at the mouse over his morning cuppa, trying to formulate a plan.

No reasonable explanations for Sylvie's intelligence had come to him in the night. In fact, he had been prepared to dismiss yesterday's events as a wild, vivid hallucination until she'd shown him her paws. She opened and closed them with ease, then scampered across his nightstand, making precise, tight loops around the items on its surface: a stack of Potions books, a glass of water, her makeshift pillow-bed.

He sighed and turned to stare at the ceiling. From his peripheral vision, he saw her perch on the edge of the nightstand. Waiting. Worried. He hadn't imagined her, then. Sylvie was real and, for whatever reason, she was still here. He'd thrown off the sheets, offered his hand, and brought her to the kitchen.

He set his cup down and leaned back against the chair, goosebumps prickling over chest as his bare skin contacted the metal. Sylvie averted her gaze, focusing on the pumpkin seed held between her paws.

"I want to diagnose what went wrong in yesterday's N.E.W.T. class. I'm hoping you can help."

She looked askance at him and nodded.

"I need to understand how much you know," he warned, his tone drawing her eyes once more. "Can I quiz you?"

She rolled her shoulders, the mouse equivalent of a noncommittal shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes." He summoned her water dish from the workroom and refilled it. "Stay out of trouble."

He showered, dressed, and felt mostly human when he joined her again. Sylvie, too, had washed. Small droplets ringed the water dish, and he caught her tugging a paper napkin from the holder at the table's center.

"No need." He grabbed the napkin and swiped it over the mess. "But thanks anyway." He held a hand out for her, and she jumped into his palm, excited to start the day.

The Floo roared when they were just feet from the door. He sighed and set Sylvie onto the side table. Only one person would be calling him this early on a Saturday. He collapsed onto the sofa, eager to have this done.

"Hello, Mother."

"Draco, so kind of you to accept my call."

After a lifetime under her influence, Draco thought he would have developed an immunity to Narcissa's characteristic brand of sardonic guilt by now.

"I've been busy."

"Too busy to join me for tea today?"

"Yes."

"A shame. We have important matters to discuss."

"I'm sure they can wait."

"And it will dreadfully inconvenience the younger Ms. Greengrass."

Draco stifled a groan. Narcissa Malfoy was never one to keep an ulterior motive hidden for too long.

"She's very eager to reconnect," Narcissa continued, "and I'm sure you'll find her much more engaging than you did in school."

"I hardly talked to her in school. Astoria was two years below me."

"All the more reason for a reunion."

"You said the same thing about Daphne Greengrass, and her French cousin, and her French cousin's elder sister."

"You've been single for far too long."

"I told you, I'm not interested."

"It's time you settled down."

"I'm 28."