Hermione and I spent the next week refusing to talk to Harry and Ron, and for me, my brother as well. Although the two of us made sure to seem like we weren't at all interested in what lay under the trapdoor, it was what our conversations frequently turned back to when we had nothing else important to talk about. We bounced theories back and forth, but other than deciding it was likely connected to the break-in at Gringotts, we didn't get much more of an idea about what it could be.

At breakfast on Friday, when the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught immediately by a long, thin package, carried by six screech owls.

A broomstick, I thought, watching interestedly to see who it was for. And clearly an expensive one, with that many owls.

The owls soared down and dropped the package in front of Harry, then another owl dropped a letter on top of it. Harry ripped open the letter first, and I watched his face carefully as he became more and more excited as the letter went on. He passed the note to Ron, who read it, then said something. I was sure I saw his lips form the words 'Nimbus Two Thousand'.

"Someone's sent Harry the most expensive broomstick you can buy," I murmured to Hermione, frowning. "Merlin, Draco'll be jealous."

Harry and Ron quickly got up and left the room, taking the letter and the package with them. Draco followed them out.

"Come on, Dora," Hermione said, a minute or so later. "Let's go back to the common room."

I followed her out of the Great Hall, passing my incredibly irritated brother in the Entrance Hall, and started climbing the marble staircase with her.

"Well, it's true," I heard Harry say, ahead of us. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Hermione said angrily, stomping up the stairs to meet them at the top, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hands.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry said.

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron said, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away, her nose in the air.

"You could be a bit nicer to her, you know," I said, frowning at them. "She's right, Harry, you did break the rules to get on the team — you could've got yourself killed — and as well as not getting even a single detention for it, you get given the most expensive broomstick on the market as a reward. I hardly think that's fair — especially as, from what I know, your parents were ridiculously rich, so you could easily afford to have bought the broomstick yourself."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron got there first.

"Oh, piss off, Malfoy."

I gave the slightest of twitches at my last name, then turned and followed Hermione back to the common room.

***

Perhaps it was because I was so busy, what with the mystery of the trapdoor keeping my mind occupied, on top of all my homework, but I could hardly believe it when I realised I'd been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like home than Malfoy Manor had done since that Christmas all those years ago. My lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that we'd mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning, I woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly, something we'd all been dying to try since we'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

Professor Flitwick put the class in pairs to practice. I was with Harry — I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about this, and I could tell he thought the same — and Hermione was with Ron. It was hard to tell whether Hermione or Ron was angrier about this. Hermione hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books, as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the incantation properly is very important too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f', and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

"I'd like to offer a truce," I said, as Harry tried to do the spell. "I can't speak for Hermione, but I personally think you did the right thing with my brother and the Remembrall. And although I still don't think you should've been rewarded for it without also getting a punishment for endangering your life, it's not exactly your fault McGonagall wants to win the Quidditch Cup so badly."

"Truce," Harry agreed. "But I can't speak for Ron either."

I nodded.

At the next table, things were going a little less nicely.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Ron shouted, waving his arms around like a windmill.

"Stop, stop, stop, you're going to take someone's eye out," Hermione snapped. "Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's wingardium leviosa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron snapped back.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk, and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick said. "See here, everyone, Miss Granger's done it! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione gave Ron a 'told you so' look, and Ron put on a very angry and sulky expression.

"Wingardium leviosa," Harry said, waving his wand at the feather. "Wingardium leviosa. Wingardium leviosa." Nothing happened, and he sighed. "Your turn."

"Wingardium leviosa!" I said, moving my wand in a precise swish and flick.

Our feather rose above our heads too, and I carefully directed it with my wand, moving it about the classroom.

"Oh, very well done, Miss Malfoy!" Professor Flitwick said, looking delighted as I floated the feather back down onto the desk. "Another ten points to Gryffindor!"

I smiled, passing the feather to Harry.

"Your turn. And maybe try leaving a moment's pause between the end of the swish and the start of the flick — it makes the movements more precise."

It took most of the lesson, but eventually, Harry managed to get his feather to rise a couple of feet off the desk. I grinned at him.

"Nice one!"

Ron, however, was in a very bad temper by the end of the lesson.

"It's no wonder no one can stand Hermione," he said, as we all pushed our way into the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

I was alarmed to see tears begin to roll down Hermione's face, and she pushed past Harry, walking very quickly.

"Mione..." I said, giving Ron a death glare before following after her.

I followed her all the way to the girls' toilets, where I heard her locked in a stall, sobbing.

"Mione?" I said softly.

"Go away, Dora," she said, in a choked voice. "I don't want to talk."

"I care about you, Mione. You know that, right?"

"I said I don't want to talk."

I gave a quiet, sad sigh. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She sniffed. "Please."

I hesitated, then said, "Alright... but if you need me, you know where to find me. I'm more than happy to help with anything you want."

Hermione only gave another sob in reply, so I hesitated for another moment, then turned and left.

Which, I would later learn, was a big mistake.

***
A/N: happy new year y'all!! I hope everyone's 2021 is amazing (or, uh... better than 2020, at least) 😊

Word count: 1286