the valerian in your thoughts

chapter fourteen

May-June 1991

It had taken Callie two days to read all about the history of Quidditch, four whole hours to read about the different kind of fouls (there were more than originally expected), another two days about all the tactics and tricks, and another three days to read about international teams, their foundings and and most famous players.

Draco did keep up his promise and had shown up at the library punctually the day after the game, and though it was past four when they went back to the common room again, Callie felt as if she could know so much more. Especially after having missed out for now seventeen years.

Weeks later, she was still studying the spirt, now looking for a particular female Quidditch player in one of the books Draco had advised her to lend. Callie had read about the Holyhead Harpies about a week ago, yet found the captain especially interesting.

The only trouble she had ever had with reading was finding old passages again, and marking them with pieces of parchment would help if she didn't do it on every third page.

She opened yet another book, "Quidditch – The International Guide to its Heroines.''

'When in doubt, ask a friend.' she read on the first page, snorted, and went back to flick through the heavy book. Where had it been, where had it been?

'Well, that is why I am here.', a voice appeared from behind and her motion stopped as his words flickered through her head again.

'You'd say we are friends, Malfoy?'

He let himself fall on the couch next to her, smirking at the pile at books in front of them.

So her kindled passion hadn't died down yet, even after more than a month. It somewhat made him proud that we was the reason it flared up in the first place, though Draco stayed quiet about it. Her interest in his favorite sport made the loss against Gryffindor last week a little less infuriating, even though seeing Potter's face made him now want to smash it against the closest brick wall more than ever.

'We certainly are not enemies, no?', he said, 'Can't disagree with that.'

She didn't look up from fifth, mumbling the name of a certain Gwenog Jones repeatedly.

'Whatever you say, Malfoy.', she then muttered.

With a sigh, Draco leaned forward to shut down her book, and open another one on page 213, "The founding of the Holyhead Harpies." He himself knew of the desire to know all about the sport and its players.

'Besides, today's the 5th.', he then uttered discreetly, leaning back with a smirk, 'You kinda have to agree with me on everything.'

'Do I now?', Michon sighed, slightly embarrassed to have chosen the wrong book, 'Because it is...Friday the 5th?'

'No, but because it is June the 5th. My birthday.'

With a loud thump, the book was closed again before she could even read the first passage.

'Today is your birthday?'

He turned seventeen today.

'Yes, and today is also all about me.'

Malfoy, his arms stretched out on the couch's back, was grinning at Callie in a mixture of content and maliciousness for it was the only day he felt as if any action of his should be excused and taken without concern. Smiling like that, he almost resembled a little kid, if that kid was merely up to mischief that hurt the ones around him.

'Well, I don't have the present that you wouldn't have received either way.', she rambled, opening her book again, but not remembering what exactly she had been searching for.

'Come on, I need to have a birthday feeling, kind of, at least.', Malfoy complained.

'And how will I lead you to achieve that?'

'Well, my mother always buys me fine rings and suits on my birthday.', Malfoy said.

'Then you appear to have enough of them. Greed kills people.'

'A trip to Hogsmeade doesn't sound too bad.', he tried again, 'We can go to Spintwitches Quidditch Supplies. You've never actually touched a broom, you see. Or better, the Shrieking Shack! I might get a good birthday scare out of you.'

'You would love to see that, don't you?', Callie chuckled, a small smirk on her lips, 'Even though I recall you yourself thinking a Hippogriff killed you.'

Malfoy's mouth opened a gap in outrage.

'Shut it, it's my birthday!'

He was still smirking a bit.

'It's killed me! It's killed me!', Callie started mocking his voice on that day in March, her hands clutching her sweater at the level of her chest, eyes played to be in vain.

'Michon, shut it now, or you will not see the end of my birthday.', Malfoy warned her, a finger pointed at her, though it was of no use.

Even a small laugh from her made all of his anger disappear. And we was more embarrassed than angry, though he felt as if the version of him only three months ago was a far different one than the one now.

'Fine, let's go to Hogsmeade.', Callie sighed in defeat, standing up to collect her books, 'I might even treat you on a butterbeer.'

And off they went, side by side, two Slytherins from similar families, and it took only a year for them to realize that they shared something no one else would understand; something that connected them, guided them, yet it would take far longer to see the full extent of the potential these two possessed together.

End of year 3