to be or not to be| sixth year | draco malfoy

red dress and pretty brown hair

"think of me when you're out there."
-

Violet POV

The cold winter air stung against my skin as we walked through Hogsmeade, the village's quaint little shops dusted with snow and the soft glow of the streetlamps casting long shadows. I stood next to Harry, feeling the chill seep through my thin dress. I had no idea what I was thinking when I chose to wear this. A dress in the middle of a freezing winter? Brilliant decision, Violet.

The others were bundled up, but I had been so distracted by everything that I barely noticed the cold until it made my teeth chatter.

"For weeks, you carry around that book, practically sleep with it, and yet you have no desire to find out who he is?" Hermione's voice snapped me out of my freezing thoughts. She was talking about the Half-Blood Prince, of course. That damn book had become such a source of fascination for all of us, but especially Harry. I couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't been more determined to figure out its mystery.

"I didn't say I wasn't curious, and I don't sleep with it," Harry shot back, clearly feeling defensive. I caught a glimpse of his smirk, and it made me chuckle under my breath.

"Well, it's true. I like to have a nice chat before I go to bed. Now all you do is read that bloody book. It's just like being with Hermione." Ron's voice was dripping with sarcasm, and I couldn't help but snort at his comment. He was right. Hermione always had her nose in a book, but I knew it was all with good intention. Still, I found the conversation amusing, the banter almost lighthearted despite the weight of everything we had to face.

"Well, I was curious, so I went to—" Hermione started, but we all cut her off at the same time.

"The library!" Ron, Harry, and I chorused in unison.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Very funny," she said, but I could tell she wasn't entirely amused by our synchronization. "And?" she pressed, clearly eager to continue her tale.

"And nothing," Hermione said, exhaling in frustration. "I couldn't find a reference anywhere to a Half-Blood Prince."

So, the name wasn't widely known. That was... interesting. For a moment, I thought about the implications. It wasn't like we had any solid lead on who this person really was. A mysterious figure, hidden in plain sight, or maybe someone who wanted to stay that way. Either way, this deepened the mystery for me.

"There we go. That settles it, then," Harry said, his voice laced with finality. But as soon as he spoke, we heard a conversation coming from just a few feet away. We all stopped in our tracks.

"Filius! I was hoping to find you in the Three Broomsticks," a voice boomed.

I froze. Slughorn. Of course, it was Slughorn. Of all the people to overhear.

"Uh, no, emergency choir practice, I'm afraid, Horace," Flitwick's voice responded, his usual squeaky tone making the exchange sound comically incongruent with the situation. He passed by Slughorn without even looking at him, clearly in a hurry to avoid any more unnecessary interaction.

My mind was racing. Slughorn. Harry had mentioned him a while back, telling me how important it would be to befriend the man to get certain information out of him. Harry had a plan, and though it wasn't fully clear to me yet, I knew that Slughorn was a key figure in the puzzle we were trying to solve. He was part of the larger picture, but what exactly did he know?

"Does anyone fancy a butterbeer?" Harry said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. I looked over at him, surprised at how he seemed to read my mind. I had been so caught up in the interaction with Slughorn that I hadn't realized I was silently wondering what the best course of action would be.