Malfoys Mate • Draco Malfoy Fic

Chapter Nine

"Albus, there is something that I believe you need to see," McGonagall said, walking up to the Headmaster where he sat working behind his desk.

"What is it, Minerva? I trust there are no troubles?"

"No, no troubles. Ms. Potter and Mr. Malfoy sent me a letter earlier today in regard to their schedules," McGonagall explained, holding the letter out for the other to take.

Dear Deputy Headmistress,

My mate and I have talked things through and we realise that our schedule is a nightmare the way it stands now. Not to mention that we will be overloaded with far too many classes. Therefore, we made the decision to coordinate our choices and, this is the result. I trust you will find your work easier now and will accommodate our wishes.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

Classes we wish to take:

Ancient Runes,

Arithmancy,

Charms,

Herbology,

Potions,

Transfiguration,

Healing,

Forgotten Arts.

"Very commendable of them," Albus said with a soft smile. He was positive this was Roslin's idea, that girl was always so considerate of others. He read the list once more and frowned. "This must be a mistake, they have both dropped Defence," he said, looking up at his deputy.

"That is why I decided to bring this to your attention." McGonagall nodded. "Albus, Roslin needs Deence Against The Dark Arts if she is to survive this war, not to mention we can't let the girl lead a defence club if she isn't taking Defence. What example would that set for the students? Not to mention what the parents will say when they find out." She shuddered at the thought of all those Howlers she'd be swamped with.

"Put both two down for Defence," Albus decided. "I have a meeting with Roslin tomorrow night; I will speak with her about this then. I am sure she will be made to see reason, and if she finds the workload too heavy, she can always drop one of the other classes," he stated, dismissing the issue from his mind and returning to his letter. Fudge was demanding his advice again. The Headmaster almost wished the man still had his head in the sand, then he wouldn't be pestered with letters demanding advice on just about everything.

Day Two - Tuesday

Roslin woke with a gasp and a shudder. She slowly sat up in bed, her heart beating wildly. Ever since about two weeks before her birthday her nights had been filled with weird dreams of a forest and a woman singing. She had no idea what she was singing since she didn't understand the language, but it was a beautiful song, albeit sad. It filled her with such longing, and he often had to fight an urge to just leave and rush headlong to find the singer.

So far, she had managed to stop herself though. She had no way of knowing where this mysterious singer was. Or knowing who she was, for that matter. What if this was just another trick from Voldemort? But each time she heard that song, the pull became stronger. How much longer was she going to be able to resist the lure?

Sighing softly, Roslin threw back the covers. There would be no more sleep tonight, she might as well get up and do something useful. At least it hadn't been another torture filled nightmare of dear old Voldie killing innocent people. It was a wonder she hadn't developed insomnia by now!