Beating Slytherin called for a party. The whole house went at it so hard that McGonagall herself had to come shut us down. That might have been my fault. I still had Luna's hat and had been… making use of it. Not the best strategy for staying under the radar.
The party went on for hours, at least for us older students and the players from the team. If there'd been any kind of alcohol McGonagall would've stumbled onto a pretty nasty scene. Luckily for us when we got busted (and for the sake of our morning-after) sneaking booze in was Fred and George's job, and no one had taken it over when they graduated.
None of us were hungover, so I wasn't sure why Ron was picking at his scrambled eggs so numbly the next morning when I got to the Gryffindor table.
I pointed as I sat down. "What's wrong with him?"
"He's pouting," Ginny said.
She looked as spry as ever. She'd polished off whatever was on her plate, sipping juice from a tall goblet. Her feet were swung back and forth under the table, still pumped up from the Quidditch win.
"I'm not pouting," Ron said. "I'm eating breakfast."
"Yeah. Poutily," Ginny said.
Hermione leaned over to me.
"Those two argued last night. Fred and George came up, which reminded Ginny that Ron told them about her dates with Dean… She started to make fun of him."
"Make fun of him how?"
Hermione hesitated.
Ron answered the question for me, just not directly.
"I've kissed girls before," he said, almost unprompted. "I have. I just didn't tell you about them."
Ginny smirked victoriously, not saying anything, aware of how sad that defense sounded. I looked at Harry to see what he thought of this and found his nose buried in a book. That was strange.
He was sitting across the table from me, next to Ron, so I couldn't see the details. "What is that?"
"Book about curses," Harry said absently.
"Why are you reading it now?"
"You know… research."
He kept the book out when we walked to class. It got to the point that I had to walk behind and steer to make sure he didn't collide with other students. When he was still reading it during our next free period, I waved my hand in front of his face.
Harry blinked, returning to earth. "What is it?"
The two of us, plus Hermione, had taken a table in one of the most secluded parts of the library. Now that I finally had Harry's attention, I directed my finger toward the book.
"You're reading that like it's going to save your life. What's the deal? I know it's about curses. Why are you obsessed with it now?"
After a moment of silence, Harry marked his page and shut the book, showing the cover.
"It's about the Imperius curse," he said. "Other than what we were shown in defense class, I didn't know anything about the spell. I wanted to fix that, to understand more about, y'know…." He lowered his voice. "Rosmerta."
"What have you found out?"
Harry frowned. He opened the book again, flipping to an earlier page than the one he'd been reading. "Not much. More than I knew before. Apparently, when the curse is cast perfectly, you can't tell anything is wrong, they act just as they normally would. When it's done sloppily, people begin to act strange."
"Like repeating the same words over and over, like a robot," I said.
"Like that! The one put on Rosmerta was a sloppy one, done by someone who can barely cast the curse." Almost immediately, Harry averted his eyes. "I think. If I'm reading this right."
He closed the book again, flashing the cover toward us in the process. Hermione let out a short, excited gasp. "Oh, it's one of Mildred's books!"
We both looked at her. "You know the author?" I asked.
"Both of you would too, if you actually went to a few of Slughorn's parties with me," she sniffed. "Mildred Kinswurple is one of the foremost authors on the topic of curses and dark magic treatments. Some of her books are assigned in seventh year Defense courses. And she's a lovely woman! A bit shy, but we had a nice and long charm about the dangers of Sublimation Jinxes and the many reasons St. Mungo's has been lobbying for stricter laws about them."
Mildred Kinswurple wasn't one of the guests Daphne pointed out to me. Maybe she wasn't at the party I went to. Alternatively, Daphne might have thought she wasn't important enough to point out compared to all the Quidditch stars, rock musicians, and bestselling fiction authors.
"This is perfect!" Harry said. He turned to Hermione, forgetting all about his book for the first time since yesterday. "You can go and ask her in person—"
"No."
"No?" Harry said. "No what?"
"After months of leaving me to deal with these parties alone, now you're giving me an errand?" Hermione crossed her arms. "If you want to interview Mildred, come and do it yourself."
A chain of emotions flashed over Harry's face. I'm pretty sure I saw anger, denial, and bargaining before his posture slumped.
"Alright," Harry said. "I'll go. But you're going with me. Both of you."
"Naturally," Hermione said.
Meanwhile, I sighed.
"What? Do you not want to go that badly?" Harry asked.
"It's not that. I already told someone else I was going." Well, Daphne told me in no uncertain terms that after last time, I wasn't allowed to not accompany her to the next one. "It's just… If you're going, I'm going to have to get my own dress robes."
O-O-O
"Fancy running into you here," I said.
I was down in the depths of the castle, close enough to the dungeons that the air carried an extra draft. Leaning against the wall with my arms crossed, I watched the two girls approach me.
One of them stopped short. She gave me a short glare, then turned around completely. She set her eyes on the hallway where they'd come from. Tracey Davis hadn't decided she liked me any better overnight.
Daphne, on the other hand, walked right up and touched my chest. She was smiling. Whatever walls she usually kept up, it was safe to say I'd gotten past them, at least when we were in private.
"I told you at the match that I would thank you properly," Daphne said. "If not for you, I would have taken a Bludger to the head."
I touched her cheek. "We can't have anything happening to this pretty face."
Tracey made a retching sound, still pointedly looking away.
"Why'd she come along?" I whispered to Daphne. "I thought this appointment was for the two of us."
"I thought so as well," Daphne said softly. "But there's no helping it. She was sitting beside us when we agreed to meet. She insisted on keeping watch for us."
"You two—" Tracey looked back for the first time "—are acting like lovestruck fools. While you go off to enjoy each other's company, I just know you'll overlook something. You saw how Goyle reacted to the three of us just sitting together. If Slytherins came across you with your pants down, it wouldn't end well! Someone has to look out for you."
I'd slayed a dragon while completely naked before (it's a really long story) so I was hardly going to let a few teenagers get the drop on me, no matter how they caught us. Still, the gruff way Tracey phrased it couldn't completely hide the fact that she was looking out for us.
Well, she was looking out for her best friend, which happened to overlap with looking out for me right now, but that felt like splitting hairs.
"Thanks."
Tracey looked disgusted to have been thanked by me.
"Come on." Daphne dragged my hand, leading me to the nearest door. "Through here."
It led to what looked like an unused classroom. There were a lot of those around the castle. Either that, or the students kept track of all the ones that existed for things like this.
When we were inside, Daphne let go of me and faced the door. Tracey was worried for nothing. A spell to lock the door, another to make noise if it was forced open, a third that muffled all sound inside the room… Daphne was as thorough as you could be.
When she turned around, she'd let her Slytherin robes fall most of the way down her arms, leaving them barely hanging onto her body. Daphne pulled her shirt up over her chest and pushed her skirt down, past her crotch. She was wearing matching angle-blue underwear that had a lacey finish.
"Shall we get even?" she asked.
I was already on top of her. I grabbed her ass through her skirt, hauling her against my body. Daphne had to wrap her arms around my shoulders for stability. Her toes came off the ground. I was carrying her.
"I'm going to get so even with you."
Daphne's giggles soon turned into moans, then into screams.
O-O-O
An hour later, Daphne and I were on top of a bunch of old desks that we'd pushed together into an uncomfortable bed. I was sitting up, Daphne laying in my embrace.
"So that's how it is," Daphne said. Her tone was back to normal but her voice was hoarse.
She winced a second later as my fingers hit a sore spot. I was currently massaging her, starting at her thighs and moving up her sides. In Daphne's words, everything ached. She certainly looked messy. Her golden hair had been dampened by sweat, her eyelids were a little fluttery as she tried to keep them open, and her body was covered in thirty different little bruises. Her breasts, chest, stomach, the insides of her thighs… My teeth had been busy. There was a good reason Daphne's throat sounded scratchy. After the screaming she'd done, I was surprised she could even talk.
"Can I count on you as my date?"
"Naturally," Daphne said. "We have slightly under a week until the Christmas party is held. Will I regret it if I leave you to purchase dress robes on your own?"
"You don't have to worry. Harry can help me."
"Involve Hermione as well."
"Huh?" I said.
Daphne turned her head against my chest, giving me a flat look. "I do not trust you and Harry Potter to pick out a suitable set. Hermione has shown she knows how to dress for these events. You will take her advice. Mmm." My hands had found a knot on one of her thighs and loosened it up, causing Daphne's eyes to close. "That spot… keep going."
That sounded like some of the things I'd heard during the last hour. The two of us were both still naked, our clothes scattered around and a dirty towel laying beside us on the table, conjured by Daphne so I could use it to wipe her down. After another five minutes of massaging I noticed that her chest was starting to rise and fall slower. She still hadn't opened her eyes.
"Daph." I shook her gently. "Wake up. Tracey's not going to carry you back to your room."
She blinked drowsily. With a fair amount of help, I got her up and moving and dressed again. She couldn't help moving slowly and bowlegged.
When we stripped away the spells we put on the room, the last thing I expected to hear through the door were familiar voices.
"—just looking for him."
"It's none of your business," Tracey said. "If he wants to find you, he can do it. I haven't even seen him. I don't know why you're bothering me."
"He was right around here—"
"Who was?" I came out of the room with Daphne, just in time to make Harry stop short.
The whole Golden Trio was here. How they knew where to look for me, I didn't know. I hadn't told anyone where I was off to. But they were definitely here now. I strolled forward, Daphne coming along behind me at the quickest pace she could manage.
"What'd you need?" I asked.
Harry looked between Daphne and I a couple of times. He did a better job hiding his bewildered expression than Ron. Hermione was the least surprised. I guess after that confrontation with Cormac, she already knew what we were like."
"We uh… We were going to ask you about dress robes," Harry said.
"No you weren't," Tracey said. "Tell him what you were saying before. About how he might be in danger."
"We just wanted to check! Hadn't seen him in a while," Ron said. "Besides, you were looking for your friend too."
He and Tracey looked at each other, having a stormy back and forth with their eyes.
"For what it's worth, I told them they were worried for nothing," Hermione said. She walked forward, smiling. "Will you be going to the Christmas party together?"
"Yes," Daphne said. Her hoarse voice caused a few more doubletakes. "Percy will need robes. Please, make sure he arrives presentable."
"I can manage that."
"Hey, what's this about a party?" Ron asked. "Is it more of Slughorn's nonsense?"
He was looking around, the idea slowly dawning that he was the only one here not on Slughorn's VIP list. "You're going to another of those, Hermione?"
"We both are," Harry said. "We might have a lead on what happened in Hogsmeade if we can just interview one of the guests. Hermione and I will be going. Percy is going with Daphne."
"Then I—" Ron was going to say I'll go too. Halfway through, he remembered that he wasn't on the invite list, crossing his arms to hide the stumble. "Guess I'll have time to get ahead on homework."
I was glad Ginny wasn't here. After fighting with her brother, if she heard that line from him she would have busted a gut, and I don't think Ron's composure could've handled it.
"Come on, Daphne!" Tracey said loudly. "It's time we got back to the common room, right?"
Daphne showed her agreement by walking forward… slowly. Her gait was pretty clumsy.
Still, the two friends headed toward the Slytherin dorms, talking as they went. Tracey was easier to hear, since her voice was louder. I heard words like "reckless" and phrases like, "You're really going with him again?"
The silence they left behind was awkward.
"How'd you know where I was?" I asked.
Harry only hesitated a little before he answered.
"We've got a magical map of the school. It shows where everyone is by their names. It's just, we were saying we hadn't seen you for a while, so I took a peek, and it showed you were in the dungeons surrounded by two Slytherins."
"I said they were worried for nothing," Hermione said.
"Yeah, you were right," Ron said, his voice gruff. "You're always right."
Hermione gave him a dirty look. She turned around sharply, walking back the way that they all came.
"I have homework that I need to be working on," she said. "I won't be free to work on it this weekend, after all."
Like it was meant to, hearing that didn't improve Ron's mood.
But time did. Or maybe it's more accurate if I say that one morning, he just woke up and was back to normal? It was two days after that conversation in the hallway. Suddenly, he wasn't sullen or grouchy at all. He seemed upbeat. Without being prompted, he apologized to Hermione, and she accepted it. My dress robes, ordered under Hermione's supervision, came via owl. They were mahogany and unlike the ones I borrowed from Harry, they fit me.
Before I knew it, I was back in Slughorn's converted classroom, going for a round two of celebrity mingling way sooner than expected. Tonight, Daphne walked with her arm looped in mind. Gwenog Jones was there again and when she saw us, she slapped my back like an old friend.
"You owe me!" said the boisterous Quidditch star.
Next to us were Harry and Hermione. Harry cleaned up pretty good. It wasn't just his fame that left so many of the younger Gryffindor girls (and even a few of the older ones) giggling when he walked by. Curiously, Hermione looked better than she had at the last party. Not that she looked bad then. It just seemed like she spent a little more time getting ready tonight.
"There she is," Hermione said.
She pointed out a woman pretending to be distracted by the horderves so she could avoid making eye contact with the wizards around her. She was willowy and had big full-moon spectacles that made her look more elderly than she was. I imagine she was somewhere in her fifties, and that's taking into account the anti-aging effects of magic.
"I'll go over first," Hermione said. "When we're ready, I'll wave you all over. Mildred isn't good with strangers or crowds. It's a miracle that Slughorn gets her to show up to these at all."
She slipped away between the bodies. Harry watched her progress, so focused on his mission that he didn't notice anything else… until I saw something through the crowd and my hand shot up.
"Guys." I pointed.
A pair of sixth years had entered a few seconds ago. They were lingering near the far wall, standing in what I think was meant to be an inconspicuous way. Considering one of them was over six feet tall with bright orange hair, they weren't very well equipped for that task.
"What on earth?" Daphne said. I'm not sure I'd ever heard her so baffled.
"That's Ron…" Harry said. "And next to him, that's… Tracey?"
"My eyes are saying that too," I said. "It's my brain that's having a harder time figuring it out."
At the same time, on the same wavelength, Harry and Daphne started marching straight toward the inexplicable pair, intent on an explanation from their best friends. I was dragged along. Ron and Tracey saw us and held a short conversation about whether they should try to escape. The look on Harry and Daphne's faces made that decision for them.
"Well done," Tracey said to Ron. "You got us caught."
"I got us caught? Maybe you got us caught!"
"As if. A plain witch like me blends in with any crowd. You're built like a lighthouse. Tell me again which one of us you think they spotted?"
"I can't exactly shave my head, now can I—"
"Explain," Harry and Daphne said, interrupting at the same time.
Ron and Tracey exchanged another look, this one clearly of uneasy alliance. Ron took the plunge.
"What's there to explain?" Ron asked. "The day after this party came up, Tracey showed up and offered to take me."
"You offered to take him?" Daphne asked. "Tracey, what?"
"Are you the only one who's allowed to go to parties with Gryffindors, then?" Tracey said.
"If I listened to your advice, I never would have done that, which makes it strange to find you flying in the face of all you've been telling me for the last two weeks."
Again, Tracey and Ron looked at each other.
"I think they're onto us," Ron said.
"What clued you into that? Was it when they marched toward us right after we came in, or when the interrogation began?"
Ron faced us again. "We wanted to look out for you, alright? There it is! It sounded like you were all getting mixed up in something, the two of us were the ones being left out, so we came to an agreement."
"The plan was to mix into the crowd and keep an eye on you from afar," Tracey said. "Some plan that was."
"Slughorn has begged me to bring you to one of these parties," Daphne said. "If you were finally willing to come, you could have told me."
"I didn't have a date," Tracey said. "Ron is the only one who knew the whole story already."
"And we meant to stay hidden, since she didn't want you to see me with her," Ron said.
"Guys?" I asked. "I don't want to interrupt, but Hermione's been trying to get our attention for a while."
She was deep in conversation with Mildred Kinkyturtle or whatever her last name had been. Mildred had really opened up, chatting animatedly with Hermione. Every fifteen seconds or so, Hermione would look at us and jerk her head. Get over here already!
Harry immediately headed toward her. He'd come tonight for one thing and he hadn't lost track of what that was. The rest of us followed him. After a few steps, Hermione vigorously shook her head.
"She's saying we can't all go," Daphne deduced. "That woman is shy. We can only send three people, at most."
Ron and Tracey backed off immediately. They looked grateful to move into the background again. That didn't stop them from reigniting the argument of who was at fault for their discovery before we were even out of earshot.
"Mildred! I'd like you to meet some friends of mine!" Hermione said when we got to her. "This is Harry, Daphne, and Percy."
Mildred did the doubletake that lots of people did when they first saw Harry. Strangely, though, she looked more excited when she recognized Daphne.
"It's you!" Mildred said.
Daphne tilted her head. "Me?"
"The girl who gave that nasty man such a hard time! Oh, I just hate boys like that one. The big handsome mean one. The one you smacked!"
"Cormac," Daphne said. Her lips twitched at the memory.
"I saw it all," Mildred said. "I wanted to help you, I really did, but I'm just… shy. I've never been good at things like that. That's why I was so glad to see you handle it! I wish I could do things like that."
"It was quite out of character for me as well," Daphne said. "Though I don't regret it."
"Miss Kinswurple, I've been reading one of your books," Harry said.
"One of my books? Oh, yes, I suppose that would make sense. W-Which one?" Mildred asked.
"The Imperius and the Terror of Control: a Complete Guide," Harry said. "It's brilliant! I actually had a few questions about it, because I ran into someone recently under the effects of the curse—"
"Under the Imperius?!"
"—and I was wondering if you could tell me what you thought about the situation," Harry said.
Mildred took a deep breath. "Tell me everything."
With a little bit of help from me, Harry told her roughly what Rosmerta had done and exactly how she acted. By the time he got to the end, Mildred was deep in thought.
"Your hunch was correct," she said. "I'd surmise that whoever used the curse had never performed it before. You say that she kept repeating her orders out loud, even after she could no longer complete them?"
"That's right!" Harry said.
"An experienced user — regardless of their magical skills — will give more efficient instructions than someone unused to the curse. When forcing a thrall to do something, they will add stipulations. Things like— act normally if you're caught! That is why it can be so hard to discover who's fallen to the curse. If used well, even when you catch them betraying you, their demeanor will call into doubt whether they're really being controlled."
"So it was someone who'd never used the curse before!" Harry said.
"Most likely," Mildred said.
Harry spun toward Hermione. I could tell what he was thinking without him saying anything. From the beginning, Harry made it clear who he thought was responsible.
Hermione nodded briefly, telling Harry they would discuss it later. "Thank you, Mildred. That was very helpful. You didn't have to listen to us—"
She stopped short at the sound of raised voices near the entrance. We all spun around, along with most of the guests in the room. Two people had just come in the door, one of them being dragged along, and Slughorn was there to greet them. It was a miracle that the professor hadn't noticed Harry yet, and it seemed like he would be preoccupied for a while longer, because one of the two entering the room was another professor.
"That's Snape!" Harry said, pointing out what we could all see. "And with him is… Draco?"
Along with at least half the people in the room, we drifted toward the commotion. Mildred chose to hang back, waving goodbye. When we got close enough, we heard Snape saying, "—caught him skulking outside of the door, waiting for a chance to slip his way inside."
Snape's voice was low and Brusque. Slughorn's was loud, but without an edge. "Tut tut, Draco! I can't say I expected this. But if every boy was punished for trying to sneak into a party, I would have faced a few more ugly evenings in my youth. If he cares so badly about getting in, then I can turn a blind eye for the night."
"Thank you, Professor." Draco didn't sound very grateful. He barely had any emotion in his voice. He looked worse than the last time I'd seen him— much worse. His eyes had bags four shades darker than his natural skintone, plus his once pristine hair was getting unruly.
"Your benevolence is noted," Snape said. "However I cannot allow my students to get everything they want, simply because they want it badly. I'll be taking him for a talk to make sure he understands what he's done. Perhaps if there is time, he'll be back after."
It didn't sound like Snape thought this was likely.
Slughorn laughed, this time with pity, looking at Draco. "As you'd have it, Severus. If you do make it back, young Draco, make sure to say hi to me. I have some friends that would be worth meeting."
"Snape must have caught Draco outside," Harry whispered, which was overkill, because no one was listening to us no matter how we talked. "I bet it had nothing to do with the party. Why would Draco want to sneak in now? He was probably doing whatever he's been sneaking away for."
"Maybe." This time, Hermione wasn't willing to completely shoot Harry's idea down. "Snape has him now, though."
"Maybe Snape is helping him."
"Helping Draco with what, exactly?" Daphne asked.
"We don't know," I chirped. "Harry thinks it's bad. From what I've seen of Draco, he's probably not wrong."
"They're getting away. I'm following them."
Harry forced his way through the crowd, heading for the door. Hermione went after him. I went too, so after hesitating for a second Daphne also came.
"What about Tracey and Ron?" she asked.
The two of us stopped, giving Harry and Hermione a head start. We looked around and didn't see any sign of our other friends. It had been more than twenty minutes since we split up.
"Maybe they got sick of arguing with each other and left?"
"Probably," Daphne said.
There was no more time to think about it, not if we wanted to follow Harry.
We caught up with Hermione in the hallway outside the party. Harry was nowhere to be seen.
"Where—"
"Under his cloak," Hermione said. "He's gone ahead to keep them in sight. He said he would leave a trail."
Daphne was getting more confused. "A cloak?"
"Invisibility cloak," I said. "Helps him get up to all the fun stuff he gets up to."
"That explains so much," Daphne muttered.
The trail that Harry left turned out to be dropping a little conjured matchstick on the ground each time we came to a turn. We didn't have to follow it for very long. After a few minutes, Harry's voice came from right next to us.
"They're around the bend. Come up slowly."
Daphne slapped a hand to her chest, whispering something harsh about her heart. As a group, we crept to where voices were coming out of a cracked door.
"They tried to put up a muffling spell," Harry said, "but I kept the door from closing all the way."
When were got close enough to make out what they were saying, I heard Snape first.
"Well, Draco, you have almost made a mess of your mission. If I were not there, what would you have done? Mixed in amongst those fools and hoped they believed Slughorn, that you were merely sneaking into a party?"
It sounded like Draco was pacing. "Yes. That's exactly what I would have done. And it would've worked. Why would they suspect anything?"
"Perhaps because you have been demanding that everyone in this castle notice you have a secret? I struggle to think how you could have acted any more queerly this term. What were you thinking, skipping a Quidditch match? If you are discovered, this is all for naught!"
"Then don't let me get discovered." Draco's voice was cool and strangely fearless. "It can be that simple."
"Perhaps it can. If you allow me to assist you, I will be able to prevent Dumbledore from finding you out—"
"No! This is my mission!"
Something cracked. The sign on the door marked the room they were using as a bathroom. Whatever he'd done, Draco caused something glass to shatter.
"It's my mission," he repeated, slower, but no less angry. "The Dark Lord is trusting me. I must succeed. I'll not have you leeching off my glory."
"Yes, you've understood me perfectly. I need to snatch the glory of a teenage boy." I could hear the sneer in Snape's voice. "You are struggling, Draco. Your mother visited me herself. She asked that I help you anyway I can—
"Wait. The door."
The bathroom got quiet. We heard steps coming closer.
For a second, Harry appeared. He hurled his cloak up, showing himself, using it to swallow up Hermione and Daphne. He tried to get me in there too but that was a losing gamble. Fitting four of us would leave our ankles sticking out. We'd all be caught.
I ducked forward, grabbed the door handle, and walked boldly into the bathroom.
Both Draco and Snape stared at me. I could see what had broken. Draco had taken the lid off a trashcan and thrown it against one of the mirrors out of anger. Glass shards were littered across the floor.
When he saw me, Draco stumbled five full steps back, treating me like I was a Dementor.
"You. You!"
"Perseus Jackson," Snape drawled. "I knew you were many things. A sneak, however, is a new turn. What are you doing here?"
"I was just at Slughorn's party, you know the one I was invited to, when I saw something that seemed interesting. Is it so bad to want to listen to a ferret get torn a new one?"
"...kill him."
Snape and I both looked at Draco, at the same time.
Draco lifted his arm, pointing at me.
"Kill him, Professor," Draco said. "This is the best chance. He heard us. He has to die. He has to die! I-If you help me kill him, I'll share all of it, I'll tell you the whole mission, I'll do anything. We'll hide the body. He has to die."
The silence filled the room with pressure, like it was a balloon on the verge of popping. Snape stared at Draco with what might have been disbelief. He looked at me. Snape noticed what Draco hadn't. There was a pen in my right hand. The silence kept piling on.
A hissing sound made them both whip their heads toward the sink, but it was just a faulty faucet suddenly turning on, spewing water into the basin. Although it had probably been less than five seconds since Draco stopped talking, it felt a hundred times longer. My thumb rested on the cap of my pen, ready to flick it off. There were twelve feet between us. Less than a second. A slash from the right. One swing would do it.
I broke the silence.
"Try."
Snape grabbed Draco by his hair.
"Fifty points from Slytherin!" he snarled. "Even you should know there are limits to jokes! And you! Twenty points from Gryffindor for the gall of talking back to a professor! If you linger in my sight for another ten seconds, you'll find that tally doubled."
I left the room walking backwards. No way was I turning around. Only once I was out the door did I let some of the tension bleed out of me.
The cloak hem was hauled up, three faces appearing in front of mine. Daphne lunged forward, patting me to make sure I was alright, even though nothing had happened to hurt me.
Harry and Hermione opened their mouths at the same time. I shook my head, inclining it toward the door.
Together, the four of us made the group decision— and ran off.