Tabitha reached the Astronomy Tower out of breath and panting. Decimus had several books spread round on the floor, and it seemed he had raided the kitchens, for snacks were piled under a window and four bottles of butterbeer sat in a bucket. She let out a low whistle and Decimus snapped his head up, his face revealing shock before annoyance.
“You’re late.”
“I know,” Tabby sighed. “Gareth . . . .” She trailed off, realizing that excuses weren’t going to help her here. She glanced to the side, where slips of parchment littered the floor. It looked as if Decimus had been doodling. Thinking nothing of it, she sat down next to him, crossing her legs and popping open a bottle of the butterbeer. “What are all the treats for?” She motioned to the pile of food beside them.
He shrugged in reply. “I missed dinner. And one of the house-elves fancies Krystal, we think, and he gives her all the food she wants.” He smiled crookedly. “Why he’d fancy her of all the birds here, I haven’t an idea.”
“She’s very lovely.” Tabby opened a box of Bertie Botts and popped one of the beans in her mouth. Her lips puckered and shortly after and Decimus laughed. “Lemon flavored,” she explained and quickly swallowed.
An awkward silence followed, and they shuffled where they sat restlessly until Decimus spoke up. “To be honest, I didn’t plan on doing much studying tonight.” Tabby looked at him curiously and he continued. “You’re getting better, really, and I brought the food along to give you“ us“ a break.” He studied her carefully, glancing at her green eyes before glancing down again, embarrassed. “I wanted time to talk.”
“Good.” Tabby relaxed and took another slurp of the butterbeer. “‘Cause I’m really not in the mood to work on Transfiguration. What do you need to talk about?” She tilted her head to the side. “Is it your family?”
Decimus shrugged. “Somewhat, yes. Grandmother’s sick, and she’s not looking very well at the moment. If she dies I have no where to go.”
“I’m sorry, Decimus.” Tabby didn’t really know what to say. How to comfort a person who might lose the only real family they had? “When did this start? Her sickness, I mean.”
“Last month.”
“Oh, dear.” Tabby bit down on her bottom lip.
Sensing the need for a change of subject, Decimus said, “What about your father? It was quite a shock. Did you know that he was going to be the new professor?”
She shook her head. “No. I went to class one morning and thought I saw a beetle on the floor. Soon I found myself staring at a pair of shoes that were very familiar. Too familiar. He said he wanted to talk after class, Dad did. Says he owes McGonagall a favor and it will only be for a few weeks.” She suddenly grinned. “I don’t think Trent was too happy, though. His mates were giving him a rough time at Quidditch practice yesterday.”
Which led Decimus to think of a certain mate of Trent’s that he had a few problems with. “Darren give him a hard time, too, then?”
Tabby’s grin vanished. “No,”she said matter-of-factly, something she picked up from her Aunt Hermione. “He was being a lovely gentleman on the whole thing. I don’t think he really minds that Daddy’s the new professor. They always got along, and Dad says Darren’s his favorite friend of Trent’s.”
“Does he know you’re dating him?”
Tabitha had really tried to keep the conversation away from the subject of Darren, but it seemed as if all her best plans fell apart where Decimus Malfoy was concerned. “Yes, I think he knows.”
“You think?”
“I haven’t said anything, but Trent or Chris probably did. And he keeps giving me this odd look, which I assume means he knows something I didn’t think he knew. Darren says Dad has been giving him the same look, as well.” She shrugged and drained her remaining butterbeer. “We’ll probably talk about it our next meeting.”
“Meeting?”
“Yes. Dad said he would grant us all privacy if we allowed him a meeting every week. Not so much a meeting as it is a family talk.” She popped open a bottle for Decimus, realizing he hadn’t had any butterbeer yet, then opened another one for herself. “Gathering, really, is a better term for it.”
“Is it?” He was smiling at her, but he seemed distracted, as if he wasn’t quite there with her, as if his mind was wandering off in other directions.
“Is there something on your mind?” Tabby whispered. There usually weren’t as many silences between them. It seemed like he had gotten over the silent treatment he had been giving her for the past few days.
“Yeah. A lot is, actually.” His voice sounded too husky and he stared at her intensely. She found she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. She had a deep feeling of doom somewhere in her gut, and her instincts told her to back away slowly and leave the room.
“What’s on your mind, Malfoy?” She scowled at him and got up from where she was sitting on the floor to look at him. “You’ve been acting . . . odd lately. I want to know why.” It wasn’t a question so much as it was a demand. Her voice had been frostier than she had wanted it to be, but it seemed to have the desired affect. Decimus’ eyes snapped to her eyes.
“Why him?” he croaked out at last. Tabby stumbled back in surprise. She had been expecting a confession of some great family trauma from him. If he had told her he had committed a murder she wouldn’t have been as surprised.
“Darren?” Tabby cried hysterically. Decimus nodded, his eyes not leaving hers. “You may not like him, but he’s a good person. He’s very witty and kind. He’s“”
“He’s two years older than you,” Decimus interrupted. “Practically old enough to be your father!”
“Your point? He has a good head on his shoulders, Decimus. He’s always the gentleman and, honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend!” She didn’t know why the conversation was led to this topic, but she didn’t really care.
“Oh yeah? Well, if you had any common sense you’d know that I fancy you, you prat!” He stood up so she was no longer tall than him. “You don’t fancy him, Tabitha. I know you don’t. You called him your boyfriend, but I don’t think that’s the right word for it.”
“Really?” She wanted to slap him, and the temptation was almost too hard to resist. “What’s the right term for it, then?”
“A protector,” he replied icily. “To protect yourself from the fact that you may have feelings for a Malfoy. To protect yourself from the fact that the bloke you really want for your boyfriend is the son of a Death Eater. To protect your name, ‘cause if you dated a Slytherin no one would call you a Potter anymore.” He leaned down so their noses were only two centimeters away. “Protector, I think, is a better term for it.”
He stormed out of the tower, leaving Tabby with a labyrinth of feelings that she had no clue how to get out of.
AN~ This chapter is short, yes, but the next chapter will be better, promise! Decimus’ POV, and he has a lot to say.
Dedicated to Julie, who was the lovely mod who featured this story! And of course, once again thanks to Mari for betaing this chapter in record time! (Couldn't have been more than five hours.)