Mischief - Book Two of the RP Saga

36. Preparation

"Harry!" Rachel smacked the back of Harry's head. "Stop daydreaming!"

The two were sat in the library, books piling up around them. Rachel was forcing Harry to revise spells to be safe in the maze. He at first agreed to do it but soon lost all motivation.

"Ow?" He said, rubbing his head.

"Come on," Rachel tapped the page of the book with her finger, "what does this do?"

"Reducto." Harry recited, his eyes close. "A destruction charm, turns the object to dust."

"Good." Rachel flicked through the pages. "It's a good charm, remember it."

He sighed and rested his head in his arms. He glanced up at his sister, who's eyes were focused on the pages, looking for something useful for him.

"I can feel your eyes on me." Rachel said, not even looking at him.

Harry turned away.

"Harry," Rachel huffed and closed the book, "I'm only trying to help you."

"No, I know." Harry sat back up, shooting her an apologetic look. "It's just depressing all this."

"I understand." Rachel squeezed his arm reassuringly. "There's nothing we can do though except prepare for the task. We can't change that you have to do it. So... quit your whining and get on with it."

She sniggered and pushed a book in front of Harry, who reluctantly picked it up. He was lucky his sister was so good at charms, it did make the studying significantly easier. Rachel had promised Harry they'd sneak down to the quidditch pitch to practise the spells.

Again, Rachel tapped the page and asked Harry to recite the spell and it's affect. He tried his best. In front of them, they could hear the loud thud of boots and a grumble. They both looked up and saw Alastor Moody staring at them, his glass eye spiralling around. He said nothing but narrowed his eyes on them, glanced at the book and then left the library entirely, his tongue wiping his lips as he did so.

Rachel exchanged looks with Harry. "He's barmy."

"Tell me about it..." Harry trailed off. "He's everywhere I am, he just appears. It's... unnerving."

"I've heard so many stories about Alastor Moody from Remus. He was an incredible wizard. But... he just doesn't seem to live up to the tales." Rachel crossed her arms on the table. "Maybe something happened and he changed?"

"Or perhaps he's always been this way." Harry said.

"Maybe... either way, I'd try not to get too close to him, Harry." Rachel warned. "I don't trust him."

Harry said nothing , his eyes remained on the door where Moody had just been.

"Bombarda."

Harry looked at her. "What?"

"Bombarda." Rachel repeated. "What does it do?"

"Uh..." 

"Come on, Harry. We learnt it last week!"

"Causes an explosion?" He guessed.

"Yes." Rachel nodded. "You can also try bombarda maxima. Bigger explosion."

Harry leant his head on the table and closed his eyes for a moment, he didn't want to read anymore. Rachel had a sad smile on her face. 

"Shall we go to the quidditch pitch now to practise?" She asked him.

Harry stood up and shot out of the library before Rachel had even closed the book. She rolled her eyes and laughed, quickly running after him, ignoring the glares from Madam Pince.

*

Once finished at the quidditch pitch, Rachel took her routine evening walk. The cool air made her feel refreshed as she leant across the railings of the wooden bridge. The sky was clear and the wind rustled the leaves in the trees. It was calming. Rachel let out a peaceful sigh as she looked at the castle with a smile.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her sketchbook, quickly flicking through the pages until it was blank. She grabbed a pencil and chewed the end before she began to sketch the sight in front of her.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat.

Rachel looked up and saw Draco, alone. "Oh," she furrowed her eyebrows, closing her book, "what do you want, Malfoy? Didn't expect to see you here... alone."

He leant against the railings next to her, his eyes lingering on her book before looking up to her. "You're with Diggory now."

"Yes..." Rachel hesitated. "Are you trying to make a point?" She trailed off.

Draco pulled a face and rose his eyebrows, he shook his head. "Just heard things. Wanted to confirm it."

"Oh right..." Rachel rose an eyebrow.

"Can't say I'm surprised that you went for 'golden boy'." Malfoy scoffed.

Rachel rolled her eyes, not bothering to reply. Draco glanced at her, annoyed he didn't get a response.

"Well?" He leered.

"Well what, Malfoy?" Rachel huffed, looking back at him.

"You not going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" She scoffed. "There isn't anything to say... Cedric and I are... well, together. It's a nice feeling."

Draco rose his eyebrows with a downturned mouth, he looked at the castle for a moment. Rachel noticed this and furrowed her brows.

"Something wrong?" 

"No." He scorned. "Why would there be?"

"Whatever." Rachel half-heartedly laughed, shaking her head. She gathered her things together and began to step back to walk away.

Draco stepped in front of her to stop her.

"What are you doing?" Rachel tried to step around him. "You going to let me go?"

"No, not yet." He tried to hide a smirk. "Not done with you."

She blinked several times, her hand grasping her bag strap. She shook her head and pulled herself together and tried to push past him one more time, it didn't work.

"Oh my God, Draco, move!"

"Nope." Draco blocked her again. His eyes darted to the book that was still in her hand. He reached forward and snatched it. "What's this then, eh?"

"Draco, give it back!" Rachel lunged for it.

Draco held it high above her head so she couldn't reach it, even if she jumped.

"No." He smirked and opened it. "Oh, they're drawings."

"I'm being serious, Malfoy, give it!" She warned him, swinging her arms at the book.

Draco turned away from her and looked at her drawings. They were good. He recognised the landscapes around Hogwarts, as well as her friends. There was a fox and some other half-finished drawings too. He turned a page and froze.

Rachel looked at him cautiously, her face beginning to redden. Draco slowly turned to her and held up the book, pointing at the page.

"Is that me?"

-