Even at Our Worst

Chapter Twenty-One

I smile back at him, lifting my cheek away from the posts to prevent any more unintended decoration. His eyes reflect the moonlight, twinkling as he follows the path of his fingers around the edge of my face, finally dropping to rest in my lap. His hand easily finds mine, intertwining our fingers and spreading warmth through my veins.

"I won't be able to do it." I swallow, my eyes flitting over his already pity-riddled face. "Like you said— wouldn't hurt a pixie."

"That isn't a weakness, Burke." He frowns, his hand on my shoulder twisting in my hair. "We'll figure something out. We always do."

I tug my lips up to reassure him, but once my head rests on my shoulder and he can no longer see my expression, I let the worry take over— my lips settling into a frown.

⧏ ▴ ⧐

December 11th, 1997

"Daph, please just tell Padma and her friends to stop roaming the halls." I pinch my forehead between my fingers, feeling a headache coming on. My Charms textbook is hovering in the air before me, flipped to the page on ascension charms as I work on our paper due tomorrow.

We sit in one of the offshoots of the common room because the library is always monitored these days. I'm hunched on the floor in front of the coffee table, while Daphne is on the couch behind me, reading her Defence book in her lap. Pansy lounges in a nearby armchair, legs thrown over the side as she files her nails. Beside her, a quill scribbles out a note on a piece of parchment as she whispers under her breath.

"Did either of you have anything you wanted to send to Trace?" Pansy pauses, the quill stopping with her. "I'm going to send this owl tonight."

We both tell her to send Tracey our best and then I turn back to Daphne with a serious stare. "Really, Daph, I can only do so much."

Daphne groans, her body slouching down on the couch. Her hair cascades over the arm of the chair as she rests her head back on it, glaring at the ceiling. "Trust me I've told her. She's getting into more trouble than it's worth."

"Then what's worth?" Pansy says sweetly, now folding the parchment crisply in half.

Daphne covers her face in her hands, mumbling against her skin. "I don't want to incriminate anyone in front of Miss Head Girl."

I scoff, slapping Daphne on the knee and earning a laugh in response. She peeks at me through her fingers, grinning widely. This has been one of her favorite things to tease me with since our return to school.

"You know I wouldn't tell a soul!" I rise to my knees, leaning my elbows on the couch beside her. "It's Padma. My lips are sealed."

Daphne blushes, and I share a knowing look with Pansy across the room. "Well," Daphne sighs, her hands dropping away from her face. "They seem to be forming a sort of— resistance— you could say. Waiting for Potter and his goons to come back."

"Hermione isn't a goon—"

"Sure, alright." Daphne waves me off. "It's like in fifth year, when they made that little Defence club Malfoy caught—"

"Hey! I helped catch them too!"

"Right, you did great, Pans," Daphne smirks down at me and I stifle a laugh. Pansy comes scrambling over now, taking a seat behind me on the coffee table. She crosses her legs neatly and leans her elbow down to rest her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Point is— when Vold— ugh—" She shivers, "when You-Know-Who comes, they want to be ready. And apparently that requires sneaking around the halls." She throws her hands in the air, frustration taking over her tone.