The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Poet

September 4th 1996

The red and gold scarf suited Harper far better than it did on Malfoy's shoulder. Though ever since he had returned it she couldn't quite get the petrichor scent of him off. Of course, Harper could have just used some magic to be rid of it, but she didn't mind the earthy smell. But that's because she liked the scent, not because it was off Malfoy. Owing to that reason, she didn't explain herself to Ginny when she asked why she kept burying her nose into the wool.

They ascended to the Owlery where Ginny wanted to write to her mother about Slug Club. It was early in the morning, the mighty sun breaching the horizon. As they reached the top, Harper watched the sky explode with beautiful colors. In that moment, the sky was more vibrant than any fresh mango or orange could ever be.

"I think Hedwig has something for you too, Harp," Ginny mentioned as she tended to Errol.

In his curled claws, a small scroll was latched again. Harper narrowed her eyes at the scroll. "Another one," she said out loud.

"Is it the same as the first one?" She asked.

"Let's find out," Harper said as she untangled it from Hedwig. With the slip of her thumb, she unrolled the curled parchment.

Your lips are all I want at midnight.

Harper's heart leapt. Never had someone written to her with such romance. She quickly scrolled it back up, biting her lip to suppress the grin wanting to break free. She blushed deeply, hot enough to melt snowflakes. Was this really Jack? Jack was a sweet talker, but he didn't talk to her like this all through their relationship. Now she had her doubts, and with the doubt came excitement, did Harper really have a secret admirer out there somewhere?

Ginny smiled carefully at Harper's rosy cheeks. "I'm guessing it is then?" She questioned, as Errol took off into the skies to deliver her letter.

Harper took a deep breath, shyly looking at the scroll in her hands. "Maybe it's not Jack," she said.

Ginny held out her hand, beckoning to read it herself. She was dying to know what had the usually collected girl all ablaze. Harper hesitated, her fingers tightening around the scroll. "Oh please," Ginny moaned, "it's just me."

Her malachite eyes glanced back at the parchment. "Okay," she passed it to her. "But don't tell Lavender. I don't want any more Jack brainwashing."

Ginny's eyes lit up as she read the simple letter. "You're sure this isn't Jack?"

Harper took it back and tucked the scroll into her pockets. "It just can't be, he doesn't think like that. He's not romantic. Now that I really think about it, he's not the type of send love letters either. He's such a male, all Quidditch and muscles, y'know?"

The girls begun walking down the winding staircase of the Owlery, breakfast would start being served in a few minutes.

"All brawn, no brains," Ginny agreed. "Maybe he has someone helping him. Sloper's a pretty popular guy."

"Do you really think he's that desperate?" Harper frowned.

"Lavender would say so," Ginny grinned. "If it's not Jack, then you have a secret admirer!"

Harper reddened again, focusing down at her feet. "I guess I do..."

⋄⋄⋄

Ginny and Harper spent their whole afternoon in the common room, listing possible suspects. They narrowed it down to being someone above fifth year and most likely a Hufflepuff. After all, if Cedric Diggory's charm was anything to go by, Hufflepuff's were as romantic as DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.