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“And even the ones he does. Once this goes public, by any means, Fudge will have to let the Prophet print it. It would be bad for business and his reputation if he didn’t.”
“You mean the Prophet would print it anyway because they didn’t want to lose customers, and then it would become clear that Fudge had stopped them from printing it.”
“Exactly.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“I’ll write father about our plan after class.”
Harry looked to a clock. “Bloody hell, Divination is in five minutes! I gotta run.” Harry grabbed his stuff and ran out of the room, ignoring the protests from Medusa about being slammed open and shut.
“You’ll have to forgive him, Medusa dear. This time it wasn’t his fault.” Draco drawled as he left a few minutes later.
Ron had saved Harry a seat next to him and was visibly relieved when Harry ran through the door a minute before class.
“What took you so long?” he whispered.
“I’ll tell you and Hermione later,” Harry whispered back.
Ron nodded and turned towards the front of the room as their teacher entered in her usual fashion. “Think we’ll actually learn something today?”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Harry muttered back.
Harry found Luna sitting in a corner of the library that afternoon. She seemed to be reading so he waited until she looked up at him before he spoke.
“Hi Luna.”
“Hello Harry.” She gave him a small smile. “Would you like to assist me in divining the future of the Muglooof clan by reading the words in this book backwards?”
Harry didn’t know what a Muglooof was. “Not at the moment, Luna. I have to talk to you about getting an article published in your dad’s magazine.”
“What kind of article?”
Harry leaned forward to whisper, “One that the Minister of Magic doesn’t want printed in the Prophet.”
Luna’s smile broadened. “I’ll send it to him.”
When Harry returned from the library, he found Hermione working on some assignment alone in the Gryffindor common room.
“Hey, Hermione. Where’s Ron?” he asked, sitting down on the couch next to her.
“He’s off playing chess with…Dean I think.” Hermione put down her quill and turned to look at Harry. “He’s avoiding having this conversation with you.”
“What?”
“He asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him this weekend and I said yes. But he didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want to ostracize you.”
“Ostracize?”
“Leave you out.”
“Oh, well that’s no problem.” Harry said cheerfully. “I’m doing something with—” he looked around quickly to see that no one could hear—“Draco this weekend anyway.”
“He asked you out?” Hermione looked surprised and pleased.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you not know?”
“We’re doing something, but whether it’s a date or not is still up for grabs.”
“Oh.” Hermione seemed to think about that for a minute. “Well then I wish you luck on whatever it turns out to be.”
Harry grinned. “Hopefully I won’t need it, right?”
That Saturday dawned warmer than it had all winter and glaringly bright. The feeling was almost infectious as students throughout Hogwarts dressed warmly for a day roaming the streets of Hogsmeade. Harry, guessing that Ron would be bouncing off the walls in nervous tension, left for Gryffindor Tower before breakfast, leaving Draco in the shower.
Harry was right, Ron was a mess. The other boys had long since stopped trying to calm Ron down. The redhead practically attacked Harry when he came into the dorm.
“Harry! What am I going to do! Or wear! And what if I act like a jerk and—”
Harry shared a suffering look with the other boys who were very glad not to be in Harry’s shoes right now.
Draco was thinking much along the same lines as Ron, but in a more dignified manner. And the only one around to hear his mutterings was a mirror. She had watched unimpressed as Draco had taken most, if not all, of the clothes out of his closet and strewn them around the room. And then watched as he proceeded to pace between the piles that had formed, discarding item after item for being “not good enough”.
“Why don’t you close your eyes, pick a shirt, and then find trousers to match?” The mirror asked irritated.
Draco fixed her with a glare that translated to “what could a mirror know?”.
“Hun, I’ve been here for years. I’ve been in every dorm possible and I’ve seen this mess over and over. Believe me, everyone eventually gets to that point. So why don’t you save yourself a whole lot of trouble, pacing, and wearing yourself out in worry?”
Draco didn’t comment, but sneered at the mirror…and then picked up the nearest shirt.
Breakfast was already underway when Draco was finally pleased with how he looked and donned the traditional Slytherin robes over his outfit. Perfect.
“You look lovely darling. Now wasn’t that easier?” The mirror asked. Draco shot another glare at the mirror and left, muttering about reflective glass that knew too much.
Hogsmeade was always bustling with people, and the left-over cold from the height of winter did nothing to deter them. So it was with a little difficulty that Harry made his way through the crowded room of Three Broomsticks to the back where the private booths were. Madam Rosmerta had smiled warmly at him and waved him towards the booth that was tucked in the most out of the way corner of them all with a, “He’s waiting for you.”
The booths themselves were something of a stroke of genius to Harry. They were placed around the outskirts of the room with concealing, silence, notice-me-not, and privacy charms on them that were keyed to the people that wanted to use them. Regular customers wouldn’t even know they were there and so it was perfect for his and Draco’s…whatever-it-was.
Draco had already ordered two butterbeers and was lounging quite comfortably on his chair, looking out at the patrons who couldn’t see him watching them. Harry noticed that he seemed interested in one table in particular as he slid into the seat opposite Draco.
“I know that look,” Harry observed.
Draco’s eyes flickered to him and then back. “What look?”
“You’re plotting something. What?”
