Of Constellations → 𝘥. 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

xxiii. muggles in space

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chapter twenty three

muggles in space

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Dean and Ginny's relationship had not improved by March. While the snow slowly melted as winter began its transition into spring, so did their patience with each other. Ginny was especially on edge, but I had to give her a pass on that one—her brother had nearly died on his birthday.

The morning of the second of March, Ginny had come up to Luna and me, panic-stricken, to tell us what happened. Ron had consumed some chocolate cauldrons laced with a love potion meant for Harry, so Harry had taken him to get an antidote from Professor Slughorn. At some point, Ron drank poisoned mulled mead Slughorn got from the owner of the Three Broomsticks. Thanks to Harry's quick thinking, he gave Ron a bezoar that saved his life.

It was the second time that year something that came from the Three Broomsticks had nearly killed someone, and I was no longer willing to give Draco the benefit of the doubt. He had to have some kind of agent working at the Three Broomsticks for him. Perhaps he'd bribed some poor busboy into doing his bidding.

Even though I hadn't spoken to him since last month when I offered him some Pepperup potion, I was beginning to put the puzzle pieces together. I was pretty sure he was supposed to assassinate someone at Hogwarts—both the necklace and the poisoned mead were meant to kill, not just seriously injure. But who exactly he was trying to kill wasn't clear to me. I was willing to bet Voldemort didn't want Katie Bell or Ron Weasley dead specifically.

Now more than ever, I felt the need to stop him. Murder ruined people—it destroyed your soul.

Draco Malfoy was not a good person, but I sincerely believed he had the potential to be. However, if he went through with this task, I wasn't sure if he could turn himself around.

About a week after Ron was poisoned, I went to study in the library and was shocked to see Draco there again, crouched over an open book he wasn't reading. Instead, he was cradling his head in one of his hands, the other absentmindedly waving his quill from side to side like he was trying to hypnotize himself. His inkwell was in danger of spilling over everything if his elbow slipped off the table and allowed his head to fall.

I crossed the room to where he was sitting and moved the inkwell out of danger. The movement startled him and his eyelids fluttered as his eyes came into focus. I wondered if I had that dazed look on my face when I was woken up. Hopefully, I looked as cute as he did.

"Your robes really bring out the shadows under your eyes," I said with a small smile. He looked as bad as ever—paler, more exhausted, and unhealthily thin.

His expression didn't change for a few moments, and I wondered if he was irritated with me. But, finally, his lips curled into a reluctant smile. I sat down and pulled out my Pepperup potion, holding out the vial to him. Unlike last time, he didn't question it. He uncorked it, took a quick sip, and then shivered with revulsion.

I laughed softly at his disgust as he handed it back to me. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," I said, returning the bottle to my bag and taking the moment of silence to try to come up with a question that would help me solve the assassination mystery but wouldn't make him suspicious.

"Mars, can I ask something?" Draco asked, throwing my thoughts totally off track. He'd never called me by my first name before.

"Shoot," I said.