Laugh with the Sinners;Cry with the Saints

“Hermione?” I sighed as I stopped just inside the green house entrance to catch my breath. “What are you doing here? I’m supposed to meet Harry.”

“No you aren’t.” She shook her head. I furrowed my brow and I pulled the small note out of my pocket. “Oh, the note.” She sighed. “Yes, I wrote that. I need to talk to you.”

I sighed, here it comes. It’s not like I hadn’t heard this before. My friends told me every day. Doing this wouldn’t make Harry like me anymore than he already did…or in this case…didn’t, the only reason he even talked to me in the first place was because I was in the same class as Malfoy. Spying on Draco probably wouldn’t make any of the trio like me anymore—granted Hermione never had a problem with me, nor I with her. But we were never what you’d call “friends”. I doubted Ron even knew my name, in the six years we’d gone to Hogwarts he’d hardly said two sentences to me.

I rested my hands on my hips as I rolled my eyes. “Well. I’m listening.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I’ll get right to it then. Elsie, is this worth it?” There it was. I sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“What are you getting out of this, Elsie? What’s in it for you?”
I looked away, choosing instead to look at one of the many dangerous plants that Professor Sprout kept in the greenhouse. It took me a minute to answer, and when I finally did, I fought to find words.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I thought—I don’t know.” I paused, frustrated. “You know,” I started again. “I’ve watched you three for five years, and for those five years, I’ve wanted to be part of your group; I wanted to be your friend. Then, well, I just thought that doing this would get me closer to being in your group.” I had decided to lie. There was no way I could tell her the real reason I was doing this.

“You just had to talk to us.” Hermione sighed. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Walk up to The Chosen One and his friends?” I laughed, “No offense, Hermione, but your group can be pretty daunting.” She stared at me, as if deciphering what I had told her. Shaking my head quickly, I continued. “Just forget about it, Hermione. I’ll be fine, okay. I’ll take it easy on the stealth work, okay? I’ll talk to you later, Hermione.”

And before she could say anything else, I turned and left the greenhouse.

--

Snow began to fall as the seasons changed. I had discovered nothing more about Draco (not that I had anything to begin with except his apparent lack of sleep, and the strange nostalgic conversation we shared). I was beginning to see that Harry was growing more and more agitated by the day.

We hadn’t spoken of that night once, although I had wanted to bring it up in conversation. If I’d had the chance to, I would have. But the truth is, besides Astronomy class, we didn’t talk. It would seem that he was avoiding me unless it was a necessity. I wasn’t one to admit that it bothered me, but to be honest, I was curious as to what, if anything, I did wrong.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow, Draco?” I asked as sweetly as we put our books away at the end of another Astronomy lesson.

“I was planning on going to Hogsmeade like everyone else.” He eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”

“Well, my friends aren’t going. They’ve something else planned, which they didn’t think to invite me along. So, I think we should go together.” Jamie and Trent were going to be pissed about that…we had always gone to Hogsmeade together.

“Can’t you go alone?” He snarled as he turned to walk out of the classroom. Jogging to keep up, I grabbed the sleeve of his robe, tugging him back.

“No, I don’t like going to Hogsmeade alone.” I sighed. “Isn’t it enough that my friend’s have all but forgotten me? C’mon, Draco. Please?” He rolled his eyes.

“You aren’t going to leave me alone about this are you?”

“Not a chance,” I smiled.

“Bloody hell, Bartley. Fine.” He sighed.

“Thank you!” I said with as much excitement as I could muster. In reality, the prospect of
spending the whole day with Draco Malfoy was enough to make me throw up in my mouth a bit. “I’ll meet you at the front gates?”

“Whatever.”

--

I dressed warmly the next morning; a blue sweater was pulled roughly over my head, and thick jeans were buttoned around my waist. Slipping shoes on, I made my way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Quickly finding Jamie, Trent, and Emily, my smile turned into a frown. The night before, I had all but “forgotten” to tell them I could go to Hogsmeade with them.

“Good morning.” Emily smiled as I sat down beside her.

“Morning, Em.” I smiled, and greeted the others. “So, I have something to tell you.” I sighed as I scooped porridge into a bowl, adding brown sugar. Everyone looked at me with questioning faces. “Well, I can’t go to Hogsmeade with you today.”

“Please don’t tell me you got detention…again.” Trent asked.

“No, nothing like that.” I glanced towards the Slytherin table.

“You’re going with MALFOY?!”

“Shut up, Jamie!” I shrieked. “Merlin, you seriously have a problem with using your inside voice.” I glanced towards the Slytherin table, once more. It didn’t seem as if Draco had heard. “And if you must know, yes, I am. Uhm. He, uhm, asked me.” That was a horrible lie, seemed that recently anything that came out of my mouth was a lie.

“And you said yes?” Trent asked.

“Well, yes. What else was I supposed to say?”

“The obvious answer would be ‘no’” Emily said buttoning her jacket. “I’ll meet you guys outside.” She said to my friends.

--

“I’m surprised you waited.” I smirked as Draco came into view. He was leaning against one
of the large stone pillars at the entrance to the castle grounds, playing with a pygmy puff that I suspected he nicked from a younger year.

“I told you I’d go with you, didn’t I? And just so you know, if you had been a minute later I would have left you.”

“You should really give that back to the kid you took it from, you know?” I told him, nodding to the small purple ball of fluff in his hand.

“For your information,” he smirked, pushing away from the column and pocketing the small creature, “I have no idea who I took it from.”

Rolling my eyes, I followed him as we exited the school grounds.

He always walked two strides ahead of me. At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and summed it up to him being so much taller than me, but after repeated attempts to get him to slow down, I knew that wasn’t the reason.

“Draco Malfoy.” I scowled, “Slow your arse down.”

“Sorry.” He sighed. “I just have to be somewhere. Hurry up.” Jogging to catch up with him, I looked at him.

“Thank you.”

--

“This is where you had to be in such a hurry?” I asked as we stood in front of the Three Broomsticks.

“Yeah, I uhm, have to meet someone. Now hurry, get in.” He rushed me inside.
Taking a seat, I ordered a butterbeer, while he refused anything to eat or drink. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder, glancing around the pub.

“Who’re you supposed to meet, anyway?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“Huh?” He asked.

“Who. Are. You. Supposed. To. Meet. Anyway?” I asked once again, slowly.

“Blimey, I can hear, Bartley.” He scowled. I waited for an answer, and when it never came, I let out a frustrated growl.

“Well?!”

“What?!”

“Who are you supposed to meet?!”

“Just a friend, don’t worry about it.” He waved me off.

I sat, sipping my butterbeer, and listening to other student’s conversations, because
apparently, Draco couldn’t carry one. It wasn’t long before the bell above the door tinkled and Katie Bell waltzed in with her friend.

“Hey. I’ll be back soon.” Draco muttered, and before I could answer, he was gone.

I didn’t know how long I’d sat there. All I knew was that my butterbeer was long gone, and I’d had a conversation with Luna Lovegood about the dangers of nargles before Draco came bursting from the back of the pub. Looking around as if he were in a panic, he finally found me, and nearly jogged to meet me.

“We have to go.” He said quickly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But, I haven’t paid for my butterbeer.” I nodded towards the empty glass.

“I’ve already paid for it, now c’mon.” he grabbed my arm, and I had no other choice but to follow him.

--

Despite my efforts to get information about the scene he’d caused in the Three Broomsticks, his lips stayed sealed. Giving up, I settled on trying to keep up with him, which was no easy feat. We passed multiple shops before I got up the nerve-and the breath- to ask anything else.

“Where are we going, Draco?” I asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know. Is there anywhere you wanted to go?” He slowed, looking thoroughly annoyed.

“I don’t know, maybe—shit.”

“What, Bartley?” I pointed to a trio of people across the street—Jamie, Trent, and Emily. “I thought you said they wouldn’t be here.”

“They uhm, aren’t supposed to be.” I sighed. “Blimey, Draco, hold my hand or something. Act like you at least want to be here with me.”

“What?”

“Well, uhm. I kind of told them you asked me.” I muttered.

“You did what?!”

“You heard me. It’s just, well, they were making plans without me. And I figured it would make them mad.”

“And did it?” I laughed.

“They were furious.” He glanced at them once more, Trent scowling, his arms crossed in over his chest, and glaring daggers at Draco.

“Well, anything to make the mudblood mad.” He shrugged.

Before I could get angry, or ask what he meant, he grabbed my hand, and his lips crashed into mine. His other hand wrapped around my waist. My first reaction was to push him away, but I didn’t, instead I kissed him back, bringing my hand up to rest on his shoulder.

It wasn’t until a shrill scream pierced the silence that we broke apart.