Decimus ran out of the Astronomy Tour steaming and a bit confused. Did he really just say all of that to Tabby? His brain was foggy and he had one of those cases of short-term memory lose people often get after they did something incredibly stupid.
He told her everything that had been locked in his mind for weeks. He didn’t even know if she felt the same way about him as he felt about her, and yet he had screamed that Darren wasn’t really the one she wanted as a boyfriend, that the one she really fancied was a Slytherin and a Malfoy.
A conversation he had with his father one night long ago drifted into his mind.
“Never love a woman more than she loves you, Decimus,” Draco Malfoy had told his son. “And never let her know your true feelings.”
“Why, Father?” Decimus, who had been curled up in a chair by the fireplace reading a book, eyed his father warily. It wouldn’t make sense if his father was on a drunken escapade, since Draco hardly ever drank liquor. So then what was with this madness?
“That’s what your mother did to me.” Draco leaned down and patted his young son on the head, ruffling his hair. “I cared for her and she ran off, back to her shelter, to the family she knew so well. Cared more about her research than she did me and you. Now, c’mere, son.” Decimus got up and obediently went to sit in his father’s lap.
That was years ago, Decimus thought. Before Dad was shipped off to Azkaban. How would Draco feel now, if he heard his only son had ignored some of the few advice he had given Decimus?
He remembered what Tabby had said about her father approving of Darren, and his heart sunk. Darren could be part of a family where a Malfoy had no place; he would walk into open, loving arms, and Decimus would probably have the door shut in his face.
Maybe I can go back. Decimus played through ideas in his mind on how he could gain redemption. Tell her it was a spell gone bad“
“Going somewhere, Mr. Malfoy?” Decimus spun around and found himself staring at the chin of Professor Potter. One of his black eyebrows was raised, and his voice sounded amused.
“No. I mean, yes, sir.” Decimus took a step back so he could look at the teacher in the eye. “I’m going back to my common room, sir.”
“Heading back from where?”
“Astronomy Tower, sir. I was tutoring someone.”
“My daughter, perhaps?”
Decimus gave a curt nod and silently swore to himself. How did he know about that? Did Tabitha “ the name made his heart hurt “ tell him? Maybe he had spies in the castle, and in that case does he know what Decimus said to his daughter this very evening? “Do you mind, sir?”
“Me? Not at all.” He grinned, and Decimus realized with a lurch of his stomach that Tabby had the same smile. “Tabitha’s bloody horrible at Transfiguration.” His voice lowered. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Decimus couldn’t stop from smiling. “I won’t, sir.” No need to add that he doubted that he and the professor’s daughter would be doing much talking at all after tonight.
“Very good. A sweet for you, then.” With a wink, Harry tossed Decimus a small yellow candy from his pocket, and Decimus couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Seeing his confusion, the professor explained, “It’s a lemon drop, Mr. Malfoy. A Muggle favorite of a very wise mentor I had when I was younger.”
“You keep candy in your pocket, sir?” Decimus marveled.
The professor turned suddenly serious. “War makes even the youngest of people grow up. Back then I was too caught up in serious matters, too worried about the safety of family and friends. It’s during times like those that you realize life is short. Never forget to enjoy life, Mr. Malfoy, because you don’t have a lot of time.” He smiled again. “Besides, sweets keep my younger children quiet.”
Decimus looked back down at the drop, turning it this way and that in his palm. “Professor, I“” But when he looked up Harry was gone, and he was left to wonder why his father despised Harry Potter so much.
~*~
Decimus entered the Slytherin common room a bit sulky. Krystal was lounged across a sofa in a corner reading the Daily Prophet, away from the mass of giggling students by the cackling fireplace. Runt was on the floor, books spread around him, busily writing a paper, his quill making scratching sounds on the paper.
“How’d your evening go?” Krystal asked behind the newspaper. Her ability to see beyond and through objects still astounded him.
“Horrible,” he responded, then, thinking of his conversation with Professor Potter, he added, “and interesting.” He lifted Krystal’s legs off the couch and sat down underneath them, putting them back in place so her feet were resting on his thighs. “Mostly horrible, though.”
“You poor dear, you,” she cooed sympathetically, and Decimus glared at her. “What happened that made your lovely plans for tonight go astray? Let me guess: She choked on her butterbeer?” How could one person sound so pleasant and yet still be so malicious?
“No, worse.”
Krystal set the paper down and placed a hand on her chest, her eyes wide. “Worse than choking on butterbeer? I wasn’t aware things could get much worse than that, Deci.” Runt chuckled and snorted as only Runt could chuckle and snort.
“Sod off, Krys. I had a lousy night and I really don’t need your jokes right now.” Krystal raised an eyebrow as if to say: Go on, I’m listening now.
Decimus took a deep breath and continued. “I told Tabitha that I fancied her, along with some other stuff about Darren and protectors. I can’t really remember all that clearly what exactly I said, honestly. I think I threw in some mention of her only going out with Darren because she fancies me and doesn’t want to admit it to herself.”
“Oh, dear.” Krystal was serious this time when she spoke. “It was worse than choking on butterbeer.” She patted Decimus’ shoulder with her foot, which was still laying on his lap.
“Yeah. Much worse,” Runt grunted, turning back to his paper. Decimus stared and him incredulously. He never spoke unless he had something important to add to the conversation. He didn’t classify what Runt just said as ‘important’ and obviously Krystal didn’t either, for she was giving him the same surprised look.
Shaking out of her reverie, Krystal leaned in closer to Decimus. “Look, Dec. You’re my best mate. I’d follow you to hell and back without any questions, because you always know what you’re doing and your instincts are usually correct.”
“Your point?”
“You wouldn’t have said what you said to Tabitha if it wasn’t the right thing to say. You may not see it now, but there was probably some truth in what you said, or else your mind wouldn’t have made you say it. You were blessed with amazing common sense. You see what I mean?”
“Kind of. But when it comes to Tabitha Potter I think my common sense disappears. The right thing to do was stay away from her, refuse to help her in Transfiguration, before something like this happened.”
“I believe that everyone is born here with a purpose, wizards and non-wizards alike. It affects your choices, which lead you on the path to what you were put in this world to do.” She shrugged. “You wouldn’t have said yes to tutoring Potter if it didn’t lead you to your path, Decimus.”
“You think so?”
She winked. “It’s called destiny, mate. What ever the case, Tabitha Potter has something to do with yours.”
Decimus grinned. “You said you’d follow me to hell and back, yeah?” Krystal nodded, suspicious. “So will you follow me to the kitchens and back? It’s my choice, so it should lead me on the path to my destiny,” he mocked, laughing.
Krystal nudged him with her foot. “Shut up. But yes, I’ll follow you to the kitchens and back. I’m starving.” She jumped off the couch and stretched her limbs. “You coming along, Runt?” He nodded, and Decimus reached out his hand to pull him off the floor.
Decimus always knew he kept Krystal round for some reason. He realized, watching Krystal pick carpet fuzz of the back of Runt’s shirt and Runt trying to wiggle away from her iron grip, that he wouldn’t have picked anyone else to call his best mates.
The three of them tiptoed to the door, keeping close to the walls. The group of younger Slytherins herding around the fire didn’t seem to notice them, and they were able to slip into the hallway outside the common room undetected.
“We’re lucky that our common room is in the dungeons, you know,” Krystal mused. “We’re closest to the kitchens. The poor Gryffindors and Ravenclaws are way up in those towers.” Her voice was a whisper, and she still clung to the walls to not be seen.
“I think Hufflepuff is even closer, though.” Decimus led the group, slinking behind pillars and checking both ways before moving forward. “We have so many corridors before we even get to the kitchens, and I think the Hufflepuffs are only a hallway down from them.”
“Oh, the lucky gits,” Krystal muttered. She went to take a step forward, but Decimus flung his arm out, slamming them into the wall. “Someone coming?” she breathed, only loud enough for Decimus to hear. He nodded as a teacher walked by, whistling and completely unaware of the three students out of bed after curfew.
Krystal, Decimus, and Runt let their breaths out simultaneously and continued down the hall until they reached the large painting of fruit they had come to know so well. Runt took a step forward and lightly ran his finger across a pear, tickling it. A giggle came from it as the pear morphed into a doorhandle.
The Slytherins were instantly greeted by a horde of house-elves, who were happy to have visitors. “Looky here! Looky! Another guest!” cried the house-elf named Bibby. She ran to Decimus and wrapped her arms around his leg. “So happy to have you again, Mussy.”
Krystal and Runt snorted. “Yeah, Mussy,” Krystal sneered. “And what were you on about when you said another guest, Bibs?”
Bibby released Decimus and ran over to Runt, having just realized he was here, and threw herself into his arms. “Sir Ethy is here, too.” She pointed a long finger toward a boy who was exploring the cabinets and nuzzled into Runt, who was her favorite student in the castle.
“Sir Ethy?” Decimus raised an eyebrow at Krystal and she shrugged her shoulders. The boy looked up and saw them staring at him. He picked himself off the floor sheepishly, and Decimus recognized him as Gareth Anthony, a quiet boy in his grade that often sat in the back and never raised his hand, although he seemed to know all the answers to every question. He had been a bit of a loner until recently, when he started following Tabby and her mates around.
“What are you doing here?” Krystal asked him accusingly.
“What most students are doing here in after curfew,” he answered, not missing a beat. “Getting food. That’s the purpose of a kitchen, I think.” He was smirking, his intense purple eyes flashing. He had a bag slung over his shoulder full of treats.
Before Krystal or Decimus could reply, a larger-than-average house-elf flung himself at an unsuspecting Krystal, knocking her to the ground with a harsh-sounding thump! Decimus winced “ he could feel her pain.
“Missus Krystal!” the house-elf cried. He sprung up from where he was on top of her, and Decimus recognized who the creature was immediately. It was Murf, a large and loud house-elf who fancied Krystal and was the reason they were able to get so many late-night snacks.
“Hullo, Murf,” Krystal said with false cheeriness. “Mind if we got some food? We’re all very hungry.” The house-elf, who could never say no to the Slytherin girl, ran off to fetch some leftovers from dinner.
Gareth watched, impressed. “You’re able to get them to fetch you food?” he wondered, astounded. “They make me dig through the cabinets myself.”
“Missus! Come along, Murf will show you to the food.” Murf had come back nearly a second later. He had one finger flexed and beckoning her to the back of the kitchen. Krystal restrained from sighing and let the house-elf lead the way. Runt, still holding Bibby, followed, leaving Decimus and Gareth alone.
“Malfoy,” Gareth said, and Decimus looked up from where he was inspecting his fingernails, “did something happen in the Astronomy Tower tonight?”
Decimus blinked. “Why do you ask, Anthony?”
Gareth shrugged. “No reason, I s’pose. But on my way down here Tabby and I crossed paths. She seemed very upset for some reason.”
“And you immediately thought I was the reason for her distress?” Decimus crossed his arms over his chest.
The Gryffindor flushed slightly. “No, but I thought maybe you knew what was going on with her. I don’t think she talks to Nikki or me the way she talks to you, is all.”
Taken back, Decimus stumbled out, “What?”
“She told me she likes your tutoring sessions,” Gareth said slowly, wondering why the Slytherin boy found this to be so complex. “She said she can talk to you about things.” He looked down at his watch. “Hey, look. I gotta go. The rest of them up in the common room are waiting for their food.” He rolled his eyes and left the kitchens.
She trusts me as much as she trusts her best mates? Decimus thought giddily, but the euphoria was soon over when he realized he had blown it all that night, all because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.
At that moment he didn’t care what Krystal had said about all of it being ‘meant to be.’ He would of gladly strayed off the path to his destiny to have been able to take back all he said.
AN~ Much longer than last chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. My favorite so far.
Don't get used to the quick updates.
This week’s chapter was extremely hard to dedicate, but after much thought, I’ve decided to dedicate it to FounderDisagreement, for leaving some lovely reviews.
And, once again, thanks to the beautiful butterflykisses for beta’ing this one for me.