ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

rat you out

a/n: long chapter!! super juicy though!! unrelated but I'm so so excited for fourth year you guys have no idea.

Sirius Black knew about that passage underneath the Willow. I'd seen it on the Marauder's Map. There was a chance he could be there now, lying in wait for his next chance to get into Hogwarts.

I couldn't go at night because of the Dementors, not even under the cloak. That means I'd have to wait until the student body was preoccupied during the day — probably during the next Quidditch match. Well, maybe that could change, if I had a way to scare off the Dementors.

"How are your lessons with Lupin going?" I asked Harry at breakfast the following morning.

"Not as good as I hoped," he replied. "You?"

"You mean with Snape?" I decided against telling him what I'd seen. "Alright, I suppose. I don't get so sick anymore. Do you think you could teach me the charm?" I inquired. "I mean, once you've mastered it. It would be a really great thing to know how to do."

Harry shrugged. "I could try. I'm not that great at teaching — why don't you ask Professor Lupin?"

"He already has so much going on," I replied. The reality was that I couldn't speak to him knowing as much as I knew. He also looked tired enough, and every time I thought of him I couldn't help thinking of that terrified expression on his face before he transformed. He must have been only fifteen at the time — how long had he dealt with this? His whole life?

"If you say so," Harry went back to eating his food. "I think the hardest part is finding something happy to think about."

I snorted. "That's terribly depressing."

"You'll understand when you try it." He rolled his eyes. "It's hard. You have to think of something happy enough to conjure a being that embodies the idea of happiness and hope."

I hummed. "I see."

Harry taught me the basic wand motion and the incantation, but he was ultimately right — I was having a really hard time producing anything other than a few silver sparks. I practiced as often as I could until the day of the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match arrived. I was able to slip away before breakfast that morning, or so I'd thought.

"And just where are you going?"

I whipped around in the frosted grass, startled. Malfoy, plan-ruiner extraordinaire, was standing in the doorway and looking very smug in his Quidditch robes. A glance at his hands showed he was wearing the gloves Pansy had made him.

"What are you doing here?" I shooed him with my hand. "Don't you have a match today?"

"I saw you from the window. What are you up to, outside by yourself at seven in the morning?" he tilted his head, catlike.

I blurted the first excuse I could think of. "I'm getting some binoculars from Hagrid so I can watch better."

"You're coming?" Malfoy was surprised. I supposed visiting the willow would have to wait. I wouldn't mind watching a Quidditch match, and if Malfoy was expecting me to be there then surely he'd be suspicious if I wasn't in the stands.

"For educational purposes," I said brightly, "don't flatter yourself, Malfoy."

I swept by him hurriedly, as though in a rush. "Anyway, you and I should get going. Have you even eaten breakfast?"

"No, have you?" He fell into step beside me.

"No, but you're the one flying," I frowned, "if you lose because of an empty stomach I might have to hex you."