The Darkwood Wand

Night Three-Prepared

So ... have we all recovered from the last chapter? I hope so, because it's time for Night Three of the Vanishing Spell.

Draco's chat with Lovegood ended his plans for remaining in the library, and possibly for speaking to any Ravenclaw witch ever again. So he headed to his bedroom early; he deserved a decent sleep after the turmoil of recent nights.

Tennant wasn't there, thank Salazar, and Draco was able to go to bed and draw the curtains without listening to his roommate's perving for once. He took his Advanced Charms textbook with him, trying not to think about the day's class. One of those daft First Years had actually smiled at him at dinner. He hoped his mother moved quickly finding a wandmaker.

His conversation with Theo and Blaise also left him unsettled. They had all been close once, until Draco drifted away in Sixth Year to focus on the Vanishing Cabinet. Draco did not regret that choice. Crabbe and Goyle had been expendable. Theo and Blaise were not.

He leaned back against his pillows and lit a floating candle. Then he fished out the reading glasses he never wore around anyone and opened the textbook to the NEWT-level Ascendio charm. He supposed it could be useful if he ever lost his mind and decided to fling himself into the air with little control over his trajectory.

Draco spent a quiet hour reviewing charms until the ebony grandfather clock in the corner began to toll ten. He thought about writing his mother, but decided the only thing more pathetic than doing schoolwork in bed was writing his mother in bed and maybe he should just—

The white flash didn't make him jump, although it should have, and thinking on it later Draco wondered if he'd really been surprised.

"Damn it, Granger!" he snapped, dropping his book. The candle floated back between them, softly lighting the Gryffindor's glare.

"Don't you 'Damn it, Granger' me," she huffed. "This is all your fault."

She brandished a thick roll of parchment tied with a red ribbon. "I knew your counterspell didn't work, Malfoy. I saw how you looked at those bedposts. You should have stayed and tried again instead of flying off."

Draco knew she was right, but he wasn't going to admit it. Granger's entire appearance tonight set his teeth on edge. Instead of the skimpy outfits she'd been sporting, the witch wore plaid flannel pajamas, fuzzy red socks and fingerless gloves, a quill stuck in her curls. The Gryffindor had obviously prepared for a night in the cold Slytherin dungeons. She'd also brought a book and a tiny purple handbag, and Draco found himself annoyed that she had so little faith in his spellwork.

"I have a test tomorrow, Malfoy, and I refuse to let your nonsense interfere with my education," Granger said with a sniff. Then her eyes widened, and she pounced on Draco's open Charms notes.

"Oh, Ascendio!" she cried. "Have you read all the variations to the theory that—"

"Shut it, Granger." Draco snatched his scroll back. "You might be happy you're here, but I am not. Our time would be much better spent getting you out."

Granger sniffed. "Well, excuse me for making the best of things. You're clearly rubbish at unraveling your own charms, and breaking the connection will take time. In the meantime, my education must remain my top priority."

Draco leaned forward, looming over the small witch. "And my top priority is reversing this Vanishing Spell, so unless you'd like to try some more interesting activities here in my bed, you'd better start researching woodworking enchantments."