Twisted Tales

Legilimens

I fly towards the Three Broomsticks the second Hermione pockets the sign-up list. Draco is sitting at our usual table, a golden bag sitting in front of him. He smiles when he spots me, waving me over.

He shoves the little golden bag into my hands, "You've gotta try those. You're gonna love them."

"What are they?" I fish a candy out of the bag, nibbling at the end. Draco and I don't always agree on candy flavors.

Draco smiles as I take another bite, "Nougat, it's chocolate and peppermint. Those are still your favorites, right?"

"Yes, they are," I tilt forward, pressing an approving kiss to his cheek. "This is very sweet of you."

"There are another three bags in my pockets," He admits, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "Would've chucked them if you'd changed your mind. I hate peppermint. How was your meeting?"

I slide a few sickles across the table in return for butterbeers, "It went about how I expected really. Harry talked a lot, trying to get the few skeptics that showed up to believe him. We're supposed to be finding a place to meet again."

"What do they want you to do?"

"Be a part of it. Harry made it sound like I might get a bit of say as to what we're doing."

"Surprised Potter is willing to let a chance to grab at more fame slip through his fingers."

I let out a laugh, "He's running it, but he trusts me. Says I know what I'm doing." Leaning forward, I shoot a quick look around, lowering my voice. "I've got him exactly where I need him."

"Never doubted you for a second, you could charm a troll."

Batting him playfully in the arm I dig another candy out of the bag, "What should we do?"

"We could go to the hat shop, we always get a good laugh. I'm sure they've got a few new ones in."

We wind our way back up the street, stopping occasionally to look at the different window displays. Bright orange pumpkins, little black cats, and soaring bats make up a majority of the decorations; excited chatter about the upcoming Halloween feast and Quidditch match floats past us. I've only been able to go to a few practices. Besides Crabbe or Goyle almost sliding off the end of their brooms once a practice, the Slytherin team actually looks pretty good. If Ron is really as dismal a player as I've heard, my houses' team should have no problem taking the Quidditch Cup this year.

"What about these?" I question about ten minutes later, plucking a rather obnoxious pair of orange spectacles from the rack, spinning around so Draco can see.

He cracks a smile, "Those are hideous." He reaches around me, pulling a pair of tiny, square-framed glasses from the shelf, letting them sit at the tip of his nose. "These?"

"No," I snatch them back, giggling. "Those were miserable."

We spend hours doing this, each trying to find the most hideous item in the shop to show to the other. The hat shop is the best place to do this. Carrying an assortment of odd items, it's never that difficult to find something abysmally ugly. I spot a few bright pink bows sitting behind the counter waiting for pickup and can't stop myself from wondering if those are going to straight into Umbridge's collection. No one else would wear such an obnoxious color by choice.

Draco and I run back up the path to Hogwarts hand in hand. We twirl around, singing a song he's written for the upcoming Quidditch match between laughter. Weasley is our king, Draco finishes loudly, shooting golden sparks from the tip of his wand as we collapse at the edge of the Black Lake. For a while, I watch as he bounces around a few leaves, forcing them into different patterns and shapes. Soon growing bored with this, I begin to clear my mind, focusing once again on the little green flames lapping over the ends of my fingers. I'm trying to hone the skill even more, working on getting the flame to shoot out of a decided upon finger.