Draco didn't understand why he even bothered with planning. Like his good intentions, plans never ended well. He had planned to spend Monday evening watching Granger while she watched Tennant. That was his fatal mistake.
Monday started well: there were no lessons, and Tennant spent the morning sleeping off his wild night. After lunch, Tennant headed to the library — apparently, to deal with Granger — but ended up getting a book to the head. Draco couldn't hear what he was saying, but soon Granger flew out of the neighboring section, looking perfectly unharmed.
Draco followed Tennant and Granger to the dungeons and waited. Tennant usually became active only in the evening, but Draco was ready for anything.
Alas, his plans were not destined to come true — and the prolonged feud between Granger and Trelawney was to blame, as absurd as it sounded. The mutual dislike of the two witches reached its climax on Friday in Divination class when Trelawney announced that Mars had entered a retrograde phase, and Granger furiously argued with her that it was not so. Calling the professor's star charts a profanation, the Gryffindor insisted that Jupiter was currently in retrograde and, according to her calculations, such a planetary position promised all present either death or lawsuits.
An enraged Trelawney spent all Monday during the staff safety seminar hatching a plan for revenge. That same evening, she cast protective charms on the staircase leading to the Divination classroom, which were intended to keep out "lost souls devoid of the Inner Eye." Unfortunately for the professor, the spell considered Trelawney herself to fall into this category and did not allow her to ascend to the office. Appearing for dinner in hysterics, the Seer declared that dark spirits had literally blocked her "path to enlightenment."
"Well, Sybill, of course, the staircase recognizes your Inner Eye," McGonagall had to raise her voice over Trelawney's sobbing. "And I'm sure one of your advanced students will help sort this out."
The Headmistress's bright eyes behind her spectacles swept over the tables of the four Houses.
"Mr. Malfoy?" she called. "I presume you're free?"
A whisper swept through the Hall, and Draco choked on his tea. Trelawney immediately stopped sobbing.
"Oh yes, we shall together call upon the Spirits, Mr. Malfoy," the Seer trilled, "when Mars meets the Moon. In retrograde motion."
At the Slytherin table, open snickering had already begun. Only Granger, the true culprit of this chaos, remained indifferent — she was too absorbed in a huge book with a gray cover and silver embossing. Draco managed to make out the title as he left the Great Hall after Tennant — his appetite was completely gone.
Granger was reading "Durmstrang: A Handbook." Splendid. Not suspicious at all.
Tennant returned to the Slytherin common room, where, along with a group of his female fans, he unceremoniously occupied the best sofa. Draco settled in a corner, immersed himself in reading the Prophet and ignoring Trelawney's incoming notes, which became increasingly desperate — until a stern message from McGonagall forced him to go to the Divination tower. There he found Trelawney throwing flower petals towards the staircase and muttering incoherent nonsense.
"Accept me, O Merciful Spirits!" Trelawney wailed. To no avail — each time she touched the steps, the staircase glowed and pushed her away. Annoyed, Draco flung open the high window to dispel the lavender scent, and gestured for Trelawney to move aside. Then he ascended several creaking steps (obviously, his own Inner Eye passed the test) and inspected the fixtures.
"Tell me about the spell," he shouted from above, running his fingers along the wood. Ordinary oak. Perhaps it wouldn't take long.
Trelawney peered at him sharply through her round glasses, her thin, graying hair sticking out from under her green turban.
"It's not just a spell, Mr. Malfoy, it's a spiritual trial," she shouted back. "Those whose minds are chained to the earthly are not destined to ascend."
Draco grunted. Something was definitely wrong. Trelawney might be a crazy charlatan, but certainly not earthly.
"You see the seven steps," she continued. "A true student must embody virtues. The staircase will only admit the chaste, the disciplined, the kind, the humble..."
Draco nearly fell off the stairs. None of these virtues had anything to do with him — except perhaps discipline, if refraining from cursing Trelawney counted as such.
"The bar is quite high, don't you think, Professor?" he drawled.
Trelawney blinked in confusion, looking up at him, and Draco, with a sigh, descended. The professor had overloaded the spell with too long a list of conditions, forcing the staircase to make complex moral judgments at every contact, and now the charms lived a life of their own.
Draco grimaced. He was reasoning exactly like Granger with her "Knot and Knotty."
"We need to understand exactly what the staircase wants," he told Trelawney. "Most likely, it's applying random criteria..."
Suddenly, squeals and yelps interrupted his thought. A flock of girls burst onto the landing and, noticing Draco on the stairs, froze.
"It's Draco Malfoy!"
"A Death Eater!"
"He'll curse us all!"
"A-a-a-a-y!"
A gust of wind from the open window slammed the door shut with a bang. The girls shrieked and huddled together, clearly expecting a bloody massacre.
Draco jumped off the stairs and scowled at Trelawney.
"What now?"
The professor beamed.
"My Divination club for third-years." Then she turned to the girls. "Oh, my dears, unfortunately, the spirits will not allow us to engage in love divinations today."
"They won't?!" one squeaked.
"But I brought a strand of Stuart's hair!"
"How will I know what to doooooo...?"
The girls immediately wailed in protest, forgetting the mortal threat, and a small blonde girl burst into tears.
"I wrote Carlton a love letter," she sobbed. "Please, Professor Trelawney! I must know what he'll feel!"
The girl took out a scrap of parchment and began to read:
"My love — like a flower..."
She recited several stanzas, and Draco could only stare, mouth agape. He knew exactly what Carlton would feel: rage, horror, and unbearable nausea. No teenage boy would tolerate having his lips compared to "tender pink petals."
"Enough," he interrupted, to his own horror hearing his father's inflections in his voice. "Professor Trelawney is currently experiencing... minor difficulties with the staircase."
An idea flashed through his mind.
"Why don't you all try to enter the classroom?"
The girls stared at the Seer, who nodded encouragingly, and they took turns trying to ascend. Two of them — including the poet — were rejected.
"Cuuursed," Trelawney sighed dramatically, pointing at them. "Spiritually barren..."
Both immediately burst into tears:
"Nooooo!"
"For Salazar's sake," Draco bellowed at the girls. "You are not spiritually barren. Did you really believe an idiotic staircase?"
The sobbing immediately ceased, and hope appeared in the girls' eyes.
"You," Draco jabbed a finger at the author of the poems, who wore a striped blue and bronze tie. "What's your name?"
"Val," she said.
"Val?" he repeated.
"Walburga," another girl suggested maliciously.
"Don't call me that!" Val hissed. "Shut up!"
"You shut up!"
"You..."
"Val!" Draco roared, and the girls instantly fell silent. "Approach the staircase and hold your hand over it, palm down."
Val obeyed, and the staircase glowed.
Draco turned to the eight girls gifted with the Inner Eye:
"Alright, one of you, come here."
They all backed away, trembling. Draco glanced at Trelawney for support, but she had already settled in a corner, immersed in a deep trance before a lit candle.
"Are there any Gryffindors among you?" he asked the spiritually complete ones. Draco glanced at his watch. 8:20 PM. He looked longingly at the door — Tennant had surely already left the common room and, perhaps, was attacking Granger right now.
A dark-haired girl timidly raised her hand.
"Well then, show some bravery," he told her. "Hold your hand to the staircase."
The girl obeyed, but nothing happened. Draco made her touch the steps, even try to ascend — the staircase remained indifferent.
The next half hour passed in tedious questioning of all ten girls, but he found nothing unusual in the two rejected ones — neither in age, nor abilities, nor zodiac signs. He even charmed a twig and made them all spin it — everyone did equally well.
Pondering, Draco again looked at the staircase, mechanically fidgeting with a sliver of dark wood in his pocket — a habit he had recently acquired. The staircase's glow reminded him of those enchanted bedposts. A poorly cast spell on the wood, overloaded with too many conditions... That's it. No spell can judge someone's chastity, kindness, or humility. And "Inner Eye Gifted" is too vague a criterion. But the presence or absence of magic...
"Who among you forgot their wand?" Draco asked.
Two ungifted girls and a plump gifted one with a huge bow on her head raised their hands. Damn, he was almost sure... Stop.
"Come here," he ordered the girl with the bow.
She approached, blushing under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Hufflepuff?" he asked, and the girl nodded. "What's your name?"
"Am-Amelia," she whispered.
"Do you have any magical items on you?"
The girl hesitated and looked back at her friends, who nodded encouragingly. Draco furtively glanced at his watch, trying to maintain patience. Nine in the evening. Amelia pulled a vial from her pocket.
"It's... a Calming Draught. Madam Pomfrey gave it to me just in case." Her lips trembled. "I... um..."
"A bat flew into her hair!" another girl interjected. "In the North Tower."
"Two bats!"
"I only saw one!"
"The second one was tiny!"
"Enough!" Draco roared. "Amelia, give me the potion and approach the staircase."
The staircase rejected Amelia, which, of course, made her cry. While her friends comforted her, Draco took out his pocket watch and extended it to Val-the-Staircase-Rejected.
"Touch the staircase," Draco repeated the command.
Val obeyed, her eyes first lighting up with admiration at the sight of the watch, and then with the realization that the staircase allowed her to ascend and descend without hindrance.
Taking back his watch, Draco headed towards Trelawney, who was still sitting, eyes crossed at the candle.
"Professor..." No reaction. "Professor!" He blew out the candle. "PROFESSOR!"
Trelawney shrieked loud enough to raise the dead, and began to wail about the bloody vengeance of restless spirits. Draco thrust Amelia's Calming Draught at her.
"Professor," he continued, trying in vain to maintain a polite tone. "Is your wand with you?"
"Wand? Wand?" Trelawney repeated. "Of course! Walking without a wand is the height of recklessness. Outrageous! I would never..."
"Professor," Draco hissed through clenched teeth. "You were standing inside the classroom when you cast the charms on the staircase, weren't you?"
"Yes, but how do you know? You saw me, didn't you? So talented..."
"And then you went down the stairs and realized you forgot your wand, didn't you?" he interrupted. "Isn't that right, Professor? And you couldn't get back?"
Trelawney drooped and nodded.
Draco sighed.
"That's the thing. I still don't understand what you did to the staircase, but now it doesn't allow anyone to pass who doesn't have a magical item on them. Like a watch, a potion... or a wand."
He extended the charmed twig with which he had tested the girls to Trelawney.
"Try now."
The Seer stared at him in fright through her enormous glasses.
"Come on," he said, softening his tone.
By this point, Amelia had stopped crying, and all the girls were watching what was happening.
Trelawney took the twig and, with unexpected agility, climbed the stairs, eliciting applause. Descending, she was already gripping her red-brown wand in her hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy!"
She tried to hug him, but Draco skillfully dodged, and the Seer, stumbling, collapsed to the floor. The girls rushed to help her up.
"Yes, thank you, dear Mr. Malfoy!" they shrieked in unison and moved in a flock towards Draco with frightening determination.
Draco bolted, but couldn't escape the terrible words spoken in a thin, squeaky voice:
"Oh, doesn't he have the tenderest, rose-petal lips?"
Slightly out of breath, Draco stopped in the sixth-floor corridor and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. The wide window opposite offered a view of the Owlery, around which dark silhouettes circled.
When he finally calmed down (they were just little girls, for Merlin's sake), his attention was drawn to Granger's disgusting cat, sitting on the stone windowsill. Its amber eyes burned with an ominous fire. Draco scanned the empty corridor, feeling like a fool for what he was about to do.
"Is Hermione alright?" he asked the cat. After all, it was her familiar.
The cat tilted its head, one pointed ear twitching.
"You're no help at all," Draco grumbled and strode further down the corridor, feeling even more idiotic.
He still hadn't met Tennant on his way to the dungeons. The Slytherin common room, shrouded in gloom, seemed deserted, but when the silver grille descended behind him, Draco sensed someone's presence. He took out his harlequin wand and moved towards the dark corner by the fireplace.
Flames suddenly flared, illuminating Blaise and Theo, wands at the ready.
"What the fuck?!" Draco spat. "I almost cursed you!"
Theo didn't look impressed.
"We need to talk."
"Don't bother. I'm not leaving Hogwarts." Draco headed for the green brocade sofa and sat down, feigning relaxation. He needed to check on Tennant, but Theo would keep popping out of dark corners until he had his say. Theo, Lovegood, Tennant, Granger — he felt less pressure at Malfoy Manor under the Dark Lord.
"What exactly are you doing?" Blaise demanded.
Draco stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles.
"I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific, Zabini."
"Yesterday you broke into the Ravenclaw party," Theo said. "Rumors are circulating throughout the castle that you danced with Hermione Granger."
"I was invited."
Theo grimaced.
"And Granger?"
"It was just a dance. We work in pairs in Divination."
"It's hard to believe you'd touch a..." Blaise trailed off under Draco's icy gaze, but then continued: "A Gryffindor."
"The war is over," Draco replied evenly.
"There are also rumors that you're associating with Ravenclaws," Theo continued, his green eyes glinting. "What's wrong with your own House?"
Draco glared back at him fiercely.
"Let's see. My House despises me, avoids me, exiles me to a room with a psychopath. If students from other Houses see something other than a monster in me, can you really blame me for making contact?"
Blaise's dark eyes widened, and even Theo looked stunned. Draco clenched his jaw. His speech had been louder and more sincere than he had planned. Granger was definitely a bad influence on him.
"So you don't support Tennant Rowley?" Theo asked as if clarifying what kind of tea Draco preferred.
"He's a sick bastard, and you know it," Draco growled. "Do you want to live with him yourself?"
From their expressions, it was clear they definitely didn't want to. Blaise even looked almost sympathetic, but Theo wasn't so easily deterred.
"You're an idiot if you decided to get involved with Granger. One wrong step — and you'll join your father."
"She's dangerous," Blaise supported.
"Tell that to Tennant," Draco said. The conversation had taken an interesting turn, and Draco decided not to miss his chance. "He's the one pursuing Granger."
The effect was instantaneous. Even Theo looked shocked.
"She'll never pay attention to Rowley," Theo said. "She's having an affair with the Head Boy."
Draco shrugged.
"That's ridiculous," Blaise said. "She's the Princess of Gryffindor, a war heroine." He even shivered. "The most terrifying witch in the school."
Draco and Theo exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. Blaise could be so dramatic.
"I suppose that title belongs to Ginevra Weasley," Draco drawled.
Blaise cleared his throat and looked away.
"I admit, I was surprised to see Tennant in Hogwarts," Theo said. "I didn't expect him to be fully acquitted."
"Me neither," Draco admitted honestly.
"If Rowley continues to pursue Granger, she might strike back." Theo frowned, constructing a frightening chain of logic. "She might start digging into that travesty of a trial."
Not a single muscle twitched on Draco's face.
"She might get him expelled or send Rowley to Azkaban," Theo continued. "And he's a Slytherin now. What damage will that do to our House's reputation?"
Draco involuntarily blinked. Merlin, he always forgot how ruthless Theo could be. Even Blaise looked like he was uncomfortable.
"And what damage will Tennant do to Slytherin's reputation by roaming free?" Draco countered. "He's planning something. Perhaps even... recruiting supporters."
Blaise gasped, earning another eye-roll from Theo. Draco remained silent.
"Alright, Malfoy. I admit, Tennant is a bit unhinged." Theo stood up, and Blaise mirrored his movement, as if they were connected by an invisible thread. "You've given me food for thought."
Draco also stood, expecting a continuation. Theo hadn't finished and wouldn't leave without completing his thought.
"But Blaise is right about Granger." Theo cast a heavy glance at Draco. "The whole school is whispering about that dance when you're not around. They're talking about love potions, about the Imperius, about blackmail. Be cautious."
"Why?" Draco asked. "It seems you're already watching me anyway." He smirked. "Sorry, but you're not my type. But Zabini... he can come to my room anytime and..." Blaise frowned, but Theo merely smirked:
"Not a bit changed. Still a complete arsehole."
They headed towards the stairs, and Theo turned back, giving Draco one more parting glance. Not hostile, but not friendly either.
"Take my advice, Draco," Theo said quietly. "Stay away from Hermione Granger. She's nothing but trouble."