PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

13

"You're not ashamed of me, are you?"

I'm caught off guard by Terry's comment. At least, I hadn't anticipated the question. He asks things, sure, but not that. Perhaps it is because we are sitting in the Hog's Head Inn, a grimy establishment, rather than with the other Hogwarts students who fill The Three Broomsticks. It's gross in here; Terry and I brought our own cups since the shaker glasses here are too disgusting to even charm clean. I prefer it. It's quiet here.

"Don't you prefer privacy?" I ask, smiling a bit.

Terry adjusts his glasses, "certainly."

"I'm just working up the courage to show my face again at Dervish and Banges again," I lie. "I'm not embarrassed of you, anyway."

That part is the truth. Well, all of it is really. Since I sent the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on Dervish and Banges, I haven't wanted to enter the store again. However, I haven't seen Terry much at all since all of that nonsense happened, so I deserve a break. Besides, he is nothing to be embarrassed about. He is handsome, and clever, and he does clearly care about me. In all sorts of ways, I should be satisfied with him, just as I think Mandy should be satisfied with the more conventional Anthony.

And yet.

"Just go back in time and erase the interaction," Terry sips from his drink.

I scrunch my nose, "funny."

"My humour is effortless," he shrugs.

I suppose I'm supposed to appreciate that. After all, I'm effortless in my interactions with him. At least, I do the art of being effortless. I work so hard on every other area of my life that I should just get to hang out when I'm with him. He's still fun, at least.

"What would you have us do instead?" I ask.

He shrugs. Then he stands, "Bathilda Bagshot's The Decline of Paganism turned 50 last month. The work isn't as popular as A History of Magic which will turn fifty in two years, so the bookstore won't be flooded. There might be something interesting there."

If people see us in a bookstore, people surely won't find it remarkable. After all, we look like friends. I went to the Yule Ball with his best friend, who is dating someone else but still. My private life is mine though. It's not everyone else's to poke and prod.

"Sure," I make myself look casual as I stand. We've already paid for our drinks, so I hardly have an excuse to keep us longer.

"Let's go then," Terry agrees.

He drops some knuts on the table. Then, we leave for the rest of Hogsmeade. At this end of the town, it is easy to keep a lower profile. Students tend to avoid this more unsavoury end in favour of the stores like Honeydukes. It only takes a few minutes before we are caught up in the rest of the world.

I get us to slip into the bookstore rather quickly. We explore different ends. I tend toward the fiction novels. My one hang-up for the non-magical world is fiction. It's silly, but magical fiction doesn't have the same soul that muggle fiction does. Wizards and witches are just so stuck in their ways. They think they have reached the end of social society, and that outside of magical innovation, life is the best it is now. They dress in clothes from before the Statute of Secrecy, and they still communicate by owl!

As such, their novels, I find, are lacklustre. It's hard to describe exactly what they lack. It isn't hope, because not all muggle novels are hopeful, but it certainly isn't pessimism either. Maybe it's because I am a bit of a magical outsider even if I don't like being framed that way. It's intangible, what is missing.

"Find everything you're looking for, love?" the shopkeeper asks.

I nod my head, "thanks."

Actually, I suppose I have found everything I've looked for. Then again, I want expecting to find anything here that I'd really enjoy.