III

"A duel." Pansy sounded desperate. "Saturday, twelve o'clock, Trans courtyard."

Another gasp spread through the hall. Hether almost rolled her eyes. They were clearly enjoying this. There hadn't been a duel between students for a while and it was always a treat to see.

"If you show up, everyone will know you didn't potion Draco." She could feel the smirk forming on Pansy's face. "If you don't, everyone will know you did, and that you're a coward."

Hether shut her books quietly and stacked them in a neat pile on her left. There was no point reading again, because study was almost over. She rose from the bench, and shoving her books into her shoulder bag, turned to face a smug Pansy.

"Pansy, you dumb angel." She smiled. "There's only two types of people who will ever duel you: A fool looking for trouble, or a person who wants to stretch their fingers."

She walked around Pansy, much to the amusement of everyone, and started her journey to the doors.

"TO THE DEATH!!" the scream came from behind her.

So many things happened at once. All the prefects and the closest Slytherins rose to restrain Pansy. The professor reached out to lead Hether out of the hall, who dodged his grasp and spun around instantly and grabbed Pansy by the wrist in a firm grip. By now a crowd was beginning to gather around them to watch the scene unfold. Draco finally looked up, his eyes wide with shock. There was no way anyone could survive a duel with Pansy, except Hermione.

Hether looked Pansy dead in the eye, whose smugness had now quickly turned to dread. She smiled.

"Deal."

The professor froze, his limbs turning to stone. Then, with a flourish of his cape, he left the hall at a pace quicker than could be normal. Some would later recall, that there was an atmosphere of something so dreadful they wanted to run to their dorms and crawl under their covers.

Hether let go of her grip on Pansy, and walked out of the hall, disappearing from view as she made a left turn. She made her way straight to the Ravenclaw Tower, as the day had come to a close, so she could shut herself in her dorm, and finish the studying she had failed to complete.

As she went higher and higher up the stairs of the tower, she heard a pair of footsteps approaching her. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder. It was a girl rushing to catch up with her, with thin blond hair that flew about her red face as she increased her pace. She could understand why. It was always frustrating when you didn't get the riddle right and had to stay locked out until someone who could answer it came along.

As if it had sensed her presence, the eagle knocker stirred and flapped its bronze wings for a bit before settling down to start its riddle.

"What drops below with a clink, to leave above a locked door?"

"A key." Hether suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Either the knocker was running out of riddles, or people were getting locked out at alarming rates. The door gave a great groan as the locks moved out of place and it swung open into the common room.

"How'd you get the riddle that quick?"

Hether turned to the voice and found the red-faced blonde staring at her in awe. "I solve riddles as a hobby." She replied. She could hear the murmurs going round the room. She could see them all; hands cupped over ears and mouths, notes being passed back and forth. News travelled fast. Good. Hether gathered her robes in her hand and started down the corridor to her dorm.

"Don't duel Pansy," The blonde fixed a firm grip on her arm. She spun round, puzzled that someone would have the audacity to touch her. "I just wanted to tell you. She's really good. She's in the Slytherin dueling club."

"Is she now?" Hether pretended to sound surprised. "Well, that should make the duel even more interesting. She wanted a duel, a duel she'll get."

She dislodged her hand from the girl's iron grip and walked away quickly, slamming the door behind her. The door opened just as swiftly and the blonde stormed in. This irked Hether. "Have you no regard for private space?"

The blonde looked gob-smacked and furrowed her eyebrows deeply. "I'm your roommate, remember? This is my private space too." She said with a huff and sat on the bed next to Hether.

Hether rolled her eyes and sat with her back facing the blonde. What use was there in remembering? People were like grains of sand thrown about by the wind. Here one second and gone in half another. There was a lot she wished she didn't remember.

"I'm Grega by the way- " the girl began to say but was cut short as the bed canopy fell around Hether with a flick of her wand.

She frowned. She'd never met anyone as rude as this strange girl. Except her brother. He was on a whole new level of rude. Still, she couldn't believe she was the only one stuck with one roommate; and it just had to be some rich, rude brat. She could tell by the crest ring she wore on her right index. It was silver, wrapped around her finger in the pattern of a tiara, which twisted oddly at the top in a simple, round circle that had a gap where a jewel or insignia would usually be.

Did she feel like they weren't on the same level? That wasn't very Ravenclaw at all. Perhaps the Sorting Hat had made a mistake by calling her Ravenclaw and not Slytherin. Grega gave a small shrug. It was a puzzling thing, but it wasn't her business.

Hether slid out of the canopy curtains next to the window and sat on her small stool. She drew her harp towards her and gave it a little wipe. It was a strange thing she played, the harp. It was the first instrument she had laid her hands on, and it would be the last she would ever touch. There was something relaxing about the strings whenever they were strummed. Most harpists complained about having to maintain a perfect upright posture, but not her. She enjoyed it. It made her calm down, and it cleared her head.

She placed the music sheet for the Christmas Ball on the window sill, and opened the windows just enough that she wouldn't sweat. The thought of the ball brought a heavy weight upon her heart, and it shocked her. She didn't have anyone to go with, now that Draco and Pansy were together. It wasn't like she was going to dance anyway; she was the only harpist in the school, so she had to keep playing until it was over. At least it was better than standing alone in a corner.

She opened the small booklet, and scanned the sheets for Halin's Forty-Six. It was the piece for the Main Dance. She tuned the harp, and with a deep breath, began to strum the instrument. She had lost count of how many times she'd played the ghost piece since it had first come out. Halin herself was a great composer unlike any seen in the wizarding world, and this piece was the masterpiece of her craft. History wrote that Halin refused to claim ownership of it as she had woken up one day to mysteriously find the original sheet for the piece on her desk. It played out perfectly on every instrument ever created – the Bohemian Rhapsody for magi – but the highlight of the piece was when it was played on the harp using all but the middle string; hence the name Halin's Forty-Six.

Hether poured her heart out like she always did as she played the piece; yet it seemed that there was always more heart to pour out. She let herself relax and get lost in the music, as it melted out from the strings and wrapped itself around her head. The music lifted high above her head and out the open windows, proclaiming its haunting tunes through the wind. It echoed, loud and strong, over the wings of birds that soared in the skies; it bent low, and skimmed the surface of the Black Lake; it twirled and looped, and flitted into the open windows of the greenhouses, now but a faint sound.

The students paused to listen; one by one they lifted their heads and strained to hear the melody. He heard it too. It calmed him down, and reminded him of a time when all he had to think about was being a Malfoy. It reminded him of that one face that had broken down his defenses and invigorated him with something new. It seemed so long ago – although it was only four days ago.

He frowned and turned back to his workbook, but he couldn't shut it out. It was Halin's Forty-Six, and everyone knew the piece one way or another; but this one, this one moaned of loss and the stinging realisation that you were actually alone. It hung in the air, hooking everyone by the back of their robes, wanting more. And then, as quickly as the echo had washed over them, it was washed away by the breeze.

Draco blinked and rubbed his eye, his mind left in a steamy muddle.