the cloudy moonlight. Even in the darkness Draco could see the black score marks along the earth where poisonous, magical plants had been ripped up, and where heavy objects had been dragged away. It was odd to be on the grounds and not have to remember how to circumvent the dozens of jinxes, hexes and nasty surprise death spells that had once enclosed the place like an invisible magical fence. Without them, the place seemed alien. Strange.
I don't belong here, either.
Leaving his broomstick leaning against the wall, he walked towards the house, ducking under the wet branches of the trees (at least they haven't torn those down). He passed the clearing where there had once been a family of giant spiders, crossed the dragon-shaped bridge that had once been rigged with Explosive Hexes, turned the corner of the house, and nearly yelled out loud as a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed at his sleeve.
Years of fencing practice and Quidditch had given him fast reflexes.
He whipped around, seized hold of the arm, and used it to flip the intruder — who admittedly put up very little resistance — onto the ground.
The intruder landed in the mud with an indignant, muffled cry. The hood fell back, revealing a pale face surrounded by a tinselly cloud of silver hair, tilted, dark-blue eyes, and a familiar, scowling mouth.
'Fleur?' Draco said, in disbelief. As the adrenaline drained out of his body, his legs started to shake, and he leaned back against the wet stone wall. 'You shouldn't sneak up on people like that,' he added, sternly. 'You should stamp your feet, or yodel, or something.'
Fleur continued to scowl. 'You knocked me down,' she said. 'That wasn't very nice.'
'I didn't know it was you,' he pointed out. 'You start hanging about in other people's gardens, wearing a hooded robe and looking mysterious, your motives will get misinterpreted. It's just one of those things.'
Now she smiled at him. Raindrops trammeled her fine silvery hair and beaded the edges of her lashes. It was a rather fetching effect.
She held out one hand for him to take. Even though she was sitting on the ground in a mud puddle, she managed to look imperious.
'Help me up,' she commanded.
He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet. She looked down at her muddy silver robes, scowled, and ran her right hand down them. 'Abstergo!' he heard her mutter, and in a moment, her robes were sparkling clean.
'Nicely done,' he said, with genuine admiration. 'But why are you here?'
She looked up at him and smiled. 'I think you know,' she said.
He shook his head. 'No, I really don't.'
'I think you do. Remember?' she added suggestively. 'You and me…in my room…there were butterflies in pretty colors…'
He frowned. 'Is this one of those word association games? You say
'puppy', I say 'kitten', you say 'girl', I say 'boy', you say 'party', I say, 'let's all get piss-drunk and take our clothes off'?'
Fleur stamped her foot. 'Now you are being deliberately stupid,' she said.
'Not really, but I'm flattered that you think so.'
She pouted. 'It is very boring at school without you.'
'I'm sure that's true, but — '
'And you owe me a favor,' she said.
That checked him. 'I what?' Then he remembered. Multicolored butterflies, Fleur hitting him hard on the shoulder and saying, You owe me, Draco Malfoy.
Oh, no.
'How do you think I found you?' she added. 'It is old magic. You owe me a favor, it makes a connection between us. I can find you anywhere.'
Draco rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. 'Now really isn't a good time, Fleur. I've had a very, very bad day.'
She shook her head. 'No, no,' she said. 'You don't get to choose when you repay favors, Draco. That is not the nature of favors. You gave me your word.'
He looked at her sidelong. It was easy to forget that a rather lively intelligence lived behind the wide eyes and decorative pout, but he knew it was true.
'You never would have found that girl of yours if it hadn't been for me,' Fleur pointed out.
'She's not my girl,' he said, automatically. Then he did a double-take, and stared. 'How did you know about that?'
'Remember the veela in the garden at the tower?'
'Yes, vividly.'
'Those were my cousins.'
'Those veela? They were your cousins? How do you know?'
Fleur shrugged her elegant shoulders. 'They told me they met you.'
She smiled. 'They liked you very much.'
'I'm thrilled to hear it. How did they know who I was?'
'I had told them about you, of course!' said Fleur, opening her dark blue eyes very wide. 'I had asked my
