139 Year Six - Chapter Nine

It was blissful falling asleep after a job well done.

It was hell waking up with the realization that I had lessons in the morning and not enough sleep to go by. I still did manage to wrangle through them somehow, but I'd need a few hours in the afternoon to catch up to everything else that I might have missed. The blissful, peaceful feeling of elation at a job well done wasn't broken through most of the day, and a good chunk of the evening, but when the time came for the nightly patrols, Draco intercepted me.

There we thus were, two prefects from different houses, trudging along the hallways of Hogwarts.

"Ever found a Slytherin trying to break curfew?" I asked offhandedly, "Because I keep on finding Hufflepuffs trying to enter the kitchens, and sometimes a Gryffindor or two trying to set up a prank in their morning classes."

"No Ravenclaws?" Draco remarked, his voice tight.

"Well, those dastardly ravens know my patrols," I huffed. "I think Padma told them."

Draco snickered. "I don't plain bother with the Slytherins," he continued. "Too much of a hassle having to give out detentions and writing justifications for it."

"Dicta-quills are life saviors," I pointed out. "Just charm them to write a string of reasons depending on a number, and then you can just go 'Dictaquill, write a slip for reason number two or number three', and off they go."

Draco wordlessly shrugged, as if to state he clearly didn't care. I let the argument drop, and we resumed our patrolling. I could see that Draco wanted to say something, but seemed to hold himself back. Every now and then, it felt like he was ready to speak, but then thought better of it. I glanced from Hogwarts' windows more often than not, the tree tops of the Forbidden Forest swaying to the wind, seemingly unchanged even though deeper in some had burned.

"Do you know of any good curse breakers?" Draco asked in the end, warily.

"Well," I said, "It's not as much as I know of any good ones, as I know of one in particular who is good at everything," I answered. "The Headmaster would-"

"Dumbledore?" Draco sneered, "He'd rather send my family to jail rather than-"

"Draco," I said in turn, "Differently from me, the Headmaster believes in giving third, and even fourth chances to people. I may be similar to him in mannerisms and oddities, but I draw the line after second chances. He, on the other hand, is far more kinder than I. If you found the courage to ask me, then rest assured that he will most certainly be willing to help." I sighed. "He might eye-twinkle a bit and offer you a sherbet lemon to calm you down, but at its core, whenever there's a problem, the first solution would be to go and speak with Dumbledore about it."

"Does he take appointments?" Draco asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"He actually has a flexible schedule," I answered. "If you want, we can go even right now," I continued. "He should still be awake, working on the last letters of the day."

"How do you even know his schedule," Draco muttered in disbelief, shaking his head. "Are you a Dumbledore-fan?"

I shook my head and pulled out a leather bound book. "I have a copy of his agenda," I said. "He gave it to me so I can find the best moments to weasel in and have a chat over tea and sherbet lemons."

"Just like that?" Draco's voice now tinged on the disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Hogwarts is a magical place," I acquiesced. "As long as you ask, you will receive an answer. It might come with Snape's curt tone, or Flitwick's dancing cupcakes, or McGonagall's stern gaze, but they will answer your questions. The problem is that many students only swing by for their homework or their OWLs and NEWTs, and they forget that they're pretty much people too." I sighed. "They're humans, Draco. We are all humans. As long as you keep that in mind, then you can reasonably interact meaningfully with anyone you wish."

"Professors are professors," Draco said, "Who would have thought. It took a Ravenclaw to figure it out," he retorted, his words laced with sarcasm, "But I doubt they'd give out their agenda to just about anyone, or a copy of it anyway."

"They'd probably set an appointment," I answered. "It was like that at first, you know? Rome wasn't built in a day. During office hours, one comes in for a chat, a worry, a question. Then it just so happens that the more you get to know a person, the more you discover of their life. It's a natural thing. If you spent a year next to Harry Potter," here Draco scowled, "You'd learn what makes him tick, and what makes him tock. If you don't, you'll forever be stuck in knowing he's good at Quidditch-"

"Not as much as me," Draco said, smugly trying to sound superior.

I rolled my eyes, "Come on Draco, we both know he's good, that's why it annoys you."

"Fine, maybe he's good," Draco relented, "But still, he's not a perfect golden boy."

"That's obvious," I answered with a helpless shrug. "No one is a perfect golden boy. However unless you get to know a person, how can you expect to learn of their weaknesses? Even I refuse to let my friends know about them, but they pick them up no matter what I do," I grumbled. "There's Amanda who's ready with a baseball bat to knock some sense in my skull, I've got Megan's face frowning in displeasure whenever it seems someone's walking over me, and Wayne's ready with chocolate whenever my mood's down. They're my friends, and through thick and thin, they know what makes me happy or sad and I know the same of them."

"How did we end up talking about the powerful power of friendship and love?" Draco grumbled, looking strangely forlorn. "Weren't we speaking of setting up an appointment with the Headmaster?"

I chuckled, "Late night speeches tend to stray a bit from their intended course," I hummed. "And you are right about friendship and love being powerful," I smiled at Draco's mock-gagging expression. "Though I will give you a different reason for it from what the Headmaster might," I continued, "Perhaps one you might find more to your liking too," I exhaled. "Friendship is power, Draco, because a true friend will take a curse for you without faltering. Love is the greater power of them all, because through it, we are willing to sacrifice everything we have, in order to keep those we love safe." I glanced at the far end of the stairs.

My steps were bringing me closer to the Headmaster's office, Draco walking by my side. "Voldemort," as I spoke, Draco flinched ever so slightly, "Failed because he didn't have friends, but underlings. Underlings which he ruled through fear," I continued, "And fear is a poor substitute for love, Draco. Because fear can only last as long as you hold power, and power is a fickle, slithering beast that will slip out of your grasp in a moment," I moved my fingers, and a small snake of smoke curled around them, slipping out with a gentle hiss into the thin air. "When that happens, fear disappears, and you are left with nothing, and no one by your side."

"But that doesn't happen if you're strong," Draco said.

"Nobody can be strong forever, Draco," I answered back. "No matter how greater one appears, no matter how holier than thou, how beautiful, how flawless, how perfect-we are all humans," I pointed out, "And we all have failings, and things we are unable to do."

Draco mulled my words over for a bit, and then quietly shook his head. "How does that make one any better than the Dark Lord then? Ruling with friendship and love-it still means ruling over others, doesn't it?"

I snickered. "The bonds of friendship are fragile things indeed," I acquiesced. "One moment they stand strong as steel, the next they wither and break, becoming raw and jagged edges that cut into your skin. Love gives you the greatest of highs, and then can even drop you to the lowest of lows. You are happy, you are sad, you grief and you laugh-and because we go through all of that, we grow." I patted my chest. "With friendship, you give just as much as you take, or perhaps you give even more than what you take back and, funnily enough, this happens for both sides, and no one is ever the wiser, or ever the sadder, for giving more than they receive."

"You sound like one of those silly muggle chocolates that give one liners," Draco muttered. "The eye twinkling doesn't help."

I laughed, and gingerly patted Draco's shoulders. "That's quite all right. Amanda threatens to swing her bat whenever I eye-twinkle, and that usually brings me back to ground. I simply have a philosopher's soul, or a cheap, Chinese-cookie slip writer ability."

"A Chinese what?"

"Cookie slip," I retorted. "You never ate Chinese?"

Draco's face turned ever the slightest pale.

"W-What kind of-why would you eat a person!?"

I stared at him. "No, not Chinese as in a person, but the food-"

And to that, Draco snickered and laughed. "Got ya," he said, jabbing his hand against my sides. I blinked, and then snickered in turn.

We came to a halt in front of the Headmaster's office, and its gargoyle.

"Want me to come in with you?" I asked.

"I can handle myself," Draco huffed, lifting his chin up, "Draco Malfoy doesn't need a nanny."

I gave him a wise nod. "But would Draco Malfoy like a friend?"

"Eh, I dunno," he muttered, "You didn't really sell it to me with all of that up and down stuff," he answered, making a show of thinking about it.

"I'm not that much of a crowd-pleaser, I'm afraid."

Draco sighed, and then gave me a small nod.

"Melktart," I spoke, and the Gargoyle swished aside to allow us both entrance.

Friendship is power.

Weaponize it.