Love Potion #9-3/4

Hogsmeade

As November began, the snow started to fall lazily day by day. By the time the next Hogsmeade trip arrived, the ground was coated in a few thick inches. Phil and I sat bundled up on the steps of the castle, waiting on Heather to start our day ahead.

I rubbed my eyes, staring blearily out at the crowd of students waiting to head to Hogsmeade.

"Did you spend the night in that room again?" Phil asked me.

I smiled guiltily at him. I had told him about the room with the piano when I found it my third year, but he had only been in it a few times. The room was impossible to track down, but would appear to me at its own will -- often when I needed it the most. I could recall my hesitation to it all those years ago, before slowly coming to realize that I was the only one who could find it, and beginning to make the space my own.

"Mel! Phil!" Heather called from across the crowd.

Phil and I shot up and started through the sea of people, pushing our way to the back. Through dozens of heads I could faintly see that Heather was standing with someone. But it couldn't be, could it?

"Dan Howell?" Phil said.

Heather beamed. "I was trying to tell you the other day I had a friend on the Slytherin quidditch team. Melody, I think you know Dan, right?"

My jaw clenched in stunned annoyance. Of course Dan would ruin one of my last Hogsmeade trips. I flashed my eyes at Phil, who was stiffling a mad snicker.

"We always go to Hogsmeade together," Heather explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Phil replied with a grin shot my way. "The more the merrier, right Mel?"

Before waiting for an answer, they joined the group who had begun to make their way towards Hogsmeade. All the same, I figured, since I didn't have any kind words for Dan anyway. We walked down the muddy path revealed by the footprints of the students in front of us, lead by Professor McGonagall. Phil seemed to take to Dan instantly, asking questions about quidditch, comparing Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff common rooms, and soon they were even exchanging Famous Wizards cards they had found in chocolate frog boxes.

All the while, I trailed behind, dragging my feet and glaring daggers at the back of Howell's head. Of course it had to be him. The sound of his stupid voice chatting it up with my best friend brewed a storm in my stomach.

We soon made it to Honeyduke's, the first stop on Heather's to-do list.

"I've gotta get something special for my little brother," Heather told us. "I've told him all about Honeyduke's."

"Is he too young for Hogwarts?" I asked her.

"Oh, no." She shook her head as we walked through the door. "He's 14,  but he's a muggle," she explained to me. "Most of my family is."

I took the room in, feeling nostalgic. This would be the last year I might ever see this place. All of the memories over the past seven years came back as my eyes traced over the crates and shelves of sweets, the warm lighting washing over the scene from the sky light above. I remembered all the times I had come here with Phil and our other friends, some of whom had graduated now. And soon, I thought soberly, it would be our turn.

Then, as my eyes fell on Dan Howell in front of me, the sunlight tracing over his dark brunette fringe and shining back from his warm brown eyes, the moment was ruined. I rolled my eyes, still trying my best to ignore him, and turned back to Heather.

"So you're basically muggleborn?" I asked her. "You don't see that in Slytherins often."

She nodded. "It's more common than you think, actually, but most don't like to admit it. We get bullied, see. Can't count how many times someone like Pansy or Draco called me a mud blood."