'No, I'm pretty sure that wasn't it. Rhiannon doesn't seem like the sort of witch who'd have a pig, or much interaction with barnyard animals of any sort.'
'Unless you count Tristan,' said Ginny irritably.
'Now, I rather like Tristan,' said Draco. He shifted the book his was holding from his right hand to his left, and gestured expansively with it.
'He seems like a wizard with the right sort of ideas.'
Ginny sniffed. 'He heartlessly abandoned Rhiannon and left her in the clutches of her evil uncle Rodrigo!'
'Well,' Draco pointed out, 'he didn't know Rodrigo was evil. He thought he was doing what was best for her, since he couldn't tell her he was on the run from the Council of Wizards.'
'It was not what was best for her!' Ginny said heatedly. She could feel the blood rushing into her face and knew she was probably scarlet with annoyance. 'She loved him and without him her life was meaningless.'
'Better than having no life,' said Draco rather coldly. 'Better than having your soul sucked out by minions of evil.'
'And what do you know about it, Draco Malfoy?'
'Listen, Weasley-'
'How long were you standing there reading over my shoulder, anyway?'
'I-'
A sharp voice interrupted them. 'Miss Weasley! Mister Malfoy! What is this disturbance?' It was Madam Pince, looking poisonous. 'I cannot believe you are shouting in my library.'
Ginny blushed. 'I'm sorry, Madam Pince.'
'What could be of such urgent importance that you have to shriek about it?'
'It was just a private argument,' said Draco, widening his eyes and looking angelic. Madam Pince was unmoved. 'Well, take your little lover's spats elsewhere from now on.'
Ginny gasped. 'Lover's spats?'
Madam Pince raised her eyes. 'Yes, Miss Weasley?'
'This wasn't a lover' spat,' Ginny protested firmly. 'It was a completely love-free spat.'
Madam Pince shook her head.
Draco looked amused.
'I don't even like him,' Ginny added, indicating Draco with a gesture.
'I really don't care,' said Madam Pince. 'Ten points from Gryffindor, ten points from Slytherin.' She shot a look at Draco. 'And you a prefect, too,' she said, sniffed, and walked away.
'Blaise will be so disappointed in you,' said Ginny, with heavy sarcasm, turning back to Draco. But he was already gone — halfway across the library on his way to the door. She watched in mingled exasperation and disappointment as he vanished through the door, and it was only when he was quite gone and she turned back to her books that she realized he had taken her copy of Passionate Trousers with him.
Entering the small room that served as the NEWT-Level Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Draco was surprised to see Hermione already there, sitting at the table, apparently absorbed in a book entitled A Runic Alphabet. Since it was such a small class, boasting only seven students (Harry, Hermione, Eloise Midgen, Terry Boot, Neville Longbottom, Padma Patil, and Draco himself) it was conducted around a battered old wooden table, with Professor Lupin chatting and consulting with them as if they were all old friends.
Draco slid into the seat next to Hermione and spoke under his breath. 'I cannot believe you skived off the prefects' meeting.'
She didn't look at him, but her cheeks turned dark red. 'I know. I forgot.'
'You forgot? How could you forget? You live for that kind of thing.'
'I just forgot.'
'I was worried about you.'
Now she did look up. 'Worried? What did you think had happened to me?'
Her eyes were very dark and curious. She had her hair pulled back into a messy bun stuck through with a quill that held it in place. He hesitated for a moment, unsure how to explain that what had struck him was a vague and terrible sense of apprehension, sourceless and inexplicable. She seemed to see the hesitation in his eyes, or maybe she saw something else there, because when she spoke, it was rapidly and with some nervousness.
'Why were you looking for me?'
'Because you speak Latin,' said Draco.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'So do all the professors.'
'I know.' Draco leaned back and put his feet up on the table. He could tell that Hermione was struggling to restrain herself from telling him not to do that, although he couldn't see the problem himself — his shoes were lovely, dark brown leather boots in suede so soft you could have taken a nap on it. Hermione just did not appreciate the finer things in life.
'Hermione, what would you say if I said 'Venio' to you?'
'I'd ask if you wanted me to make up the spare bedroom.'
'What?'
Hermione smiled. 'It means 'I come,' or 'I am coming' with the implication being that whoever it is, is going to arrive soon.'
Oh.' Draco studied the tips of his boots. 'That's all it means?'
'Yes.'
'How ostentatious.'
Hermione blinked at him. 'What are you going on about?'
Draco waved a dismissive hand. 'Nothing.'
'Come on, tell me.'
'Not until you tell me why you skived off the meeting.'
Hermione looked guilty. 'Was Ron very angry?'
'Angry? Not so much, really. More…annoyed and distracted.' Draco shrugged. 'Weasley's been acting odd lately, if you ask me.'
Hermione set her book down on the table. 'Yeah. I know what you mean.
Sometimes I wonder if…'
'If what?'
'If he's seeing a girl.'
'Only if he closes his eyes and concentrates, I'd imagine,' said Draco.
Hermione looked at him irritably. 'I know you think that, but Ron is really…'
A voice spoke from behind them. 'Ron is really what?'
Draco looked up, knowing already who it was; if he'd not been paying so much attention to Hermione, he would have heard Harry come into the room. He was looking down at Hermione, and there was that oddness between them that had become so pronounced of late. Draco knew now what was making Harry withdraw from Hermione, and suspected he could imagine that she would withdraw herself in response. But it was a difficult thing to watch happen without being able to do anything about it.
Hermione dropped her eyes. 'Really busy,' she said. 'Ron is really busy.'
'Oh.' Harry sat down next to Hermione, so that he was facing Draco across the table. 'Well, he is Head Boy.'
'I know.' Hermione looked at Harry more closely. 'You look better. Did you go to the infirmary?'
Harry nodded but was prevented from saying anything by Lupin walking in, followed by Padma and Eloise. A moment later Terry and Neville had joined them and the class was complete.
Lupin sat down. 'The time has come for us to talk about your end-of-year projects,' he said, shuffling quickly through his books and selecting a stack of parchments. A soft little groan ran around the table, and Lupin looked up with a smile in his dark gray eyes. 'It won't be that bad. First off, I'll be dividing you up into teams.' He consulted a parchment, his eyes flicking quickly down the list. 'Neville and Terry, Padma and Eloise.
