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chapter thirty eight
draco vs. the chemist
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Mum worked in the Denys Wilkinson building in the particle physics department. It was a harsh structure with lots of concrete and severely lined windows. A triangular tower that looked like a fan—home to a huge Van de Graaff generator—rose distinctively into the sky.
Most students at the university thought it was ugly. Actually, lots of people in general thought it was ugly. But I didn't.
It was new brutalist architecture, and it reminded me of Theo every time I saw it. At first, the familiarity of its imposing coldness would make me miss him. But, it was also where the astrophysics department was located, so I had to see it often. Eventually, I got used to it. By Christmas, I was even fond of the tower.
"Looks like one of Theodore's buildings," said Draco as we walked by. It was the first thing he'd said since I'd told him off, and it surprised me. I had forgotten that Draco knew about Theo's hobby as well.
I grinned at him. "Hey, do you remember asking him to design a treehouse for the two of you when you were kids?" I asked.
He squinted for a moment and then took a sharp breath in. "Merlin, I haven't thought about that in so many years. I still remember what it was going to look like. It was going to wrap around the trunk of this big oak tree we have on the property, and the roof was going to be huge so we could have our own Quidditch pitch on top of it."
There was a faint smile on Draco's face that seemed to relieve the tension between us.
"How come you never got it built?" I asked.
His mouth slipped into a straight line and I had a feeling I'd asked the wrong question. "Dad was going to find someone to build it but when he found out I'd gotten the idea from a Muggle boy, he changed his mind. He built a miniature Quidditch pitch behind the manor in consolation."
"Oh," I murmured. From the way the boys spoke of the incident, I got the sense they had still not gotten over being denied their treehouse.
We reached the entrance to the lobby. Draco opened the door ahead of me and walked inside, looking around curiously. It wasn't very impressive, but I was willing to bet it was more modern—more Muggle—than he was used to.
"He was quite good at Quidditch," said Draco as I led him to the lifts. "Theo."
"Why didn't he play for Slytherin?" I asked after pressing the call button.
Draco considered. "Never cared much for sports. He was competitive, but mostly against himself. And he was scared of heights."
"I didn't know that," I said, softly. It was easy to forget that Draco and Theo had been friends for much longer than Theo and I had.
