The Heart Is Not Black or White

Chapter 26

Final exams were drawing nearer and nearer and teachers were piling up homework. Of course Tracey was getting things done, I only had half motivation, and Daphne had become best friends with procrastination.

I would often stay up late with Tracey to study potions, while Daphne finished up homework. Even though Tracey was a good study parter, it just wasn't the same as studying with Draco. She just didn't get the material like he did.

Not that I would ever wish to be acquainted with him again.

We would work civilly during Potions class but ignore or glare at each other otherwise. I think we both agreed that we wanted to keep our Potions grade high, and clawing each other's eyes out would not help that.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was going well too. As the year went on, the material became more complex, but also more interesting. For extra credit, Professor Quirrell said we could write an essay on pixies, a subject we wouldn't learn about until second year. Tracey convinced me to write it.

"If you do it and it turns out bad, it won't hurt your grade," she explained. "It can only raise it, or at very worst, nothing will happen to your grade at all."

I had reluctantly handed the essay in. Only an hour had been spent on it.

On my way out of DADA class one day, Quirrell stopped me. He had me come to his desk and he sat down. After sifting through piles of parchment, he took out my essay.

"M-Ms. L'amare," he started. "Th-This essay w-was exceptional."

"Really?" I was ecstatic.

"Y-yes. The whole essay was very strong. I couldn't find a single grammar mistake. Your evidence could have been a little more specific, but it was w-well beyond the l-level of a f-first-year student," he explained. "I'm awarding y-you twenty points t-t-to Slytherin and f-five extra points on y-y-your final exam."

"Thank you," I breathed. If I could write an essay that well in just an hour, imagine what I could do if I actually spent a good amount of time on it?

"B-before you go," Quirrell said. "Is it t-t-true that you hold the Manus Force?"

"Yes," I answered slowly. This was suspicious. Quirrell was not supposed to know about my power.

"If y-you are comfortable t-t-talking about this, could you explain h-how you lived through the Brink?"

"The Brink, sir?"

"It is the term for when the wizard - or a witch - h-has reached the p-p-point where they're p-power is killing them."

I looked at him quizzically. His eyes looked like they were hungry for information. This didn't feel right.

"I'm sorry, Professor," I said. "It's a bit of a long story, and I really need to get to my next class. Good-bye."

Without letting him bid me farewell, I clutched my books closely to my chest and raced out of his classroom.

I had just gone through the doorway and turned to the right when I bumped into someone. My books fell to the floor.

"I'm really sorry," I apologized, gathering up my books. "I wasn't looking where I was going-"

That's when I looked up to see the grey eyes and platinum blonde hair that I could spot anywhere.

Draco's cold grey eyes turned to slits and he sneered, "Watch where you're going, L'amare."

"Not in the mood, Malfoy," I huffed, sliding past him and walking toward the dungeons.

"I thought you had declared war on me?" he called. "Too scared to fight?"

At that I turned back around. I wasn't scared of a fight.

"Fine," I said simply. "Duel me."

"You want me to duel you?" he exclaimed. Now I had scared him.

"Too scared to fight?" I said, smirking.

"No," he answered, regaining his posture and putting back on his faćade. "We'll meet the night after finals, midnight, in the common room."

"Good," I said, stalking away.

"And don't even think about using the Manus Force," he added.

Dang it. I was hoping to do some serious damage.

"Loser has to buy ten packages of Bernie Bott's Every Flavored Beans for the winner," I declared.

"Done."

I walked up to Malfoy and we shook on it.