"I don't care about anyone, and the feeling is obviously mutual." -Sylvia Plath

*

     "Okay, is it really December already or do students sing Christmas carols all year round?" Darcy asks Draco one morning.

Draco groans as he sets muffins and toast on the table for her. "No, it's the ghosts. They sing all the time, but around Christmas they turn into carols. It's sickening."

Darcy laughs. "I remember this one time, and no I did not go to Azkaban for this, but there was a group of Christmas carolers in Hogsmeade. They were so bad, like, I can't even begin to describe just how off key and screechy they were, but they were right outside the Hog's Head. Aberforth had told them to move, but they wouldn't listen. So, naturally, I took matters into my own hands."

Draco smiles now. "What the hell did you do?"

"Well, Aberforth had some old butterbeers in the cellar, so I brought some upstairs to my room and shook them up a little bit. Then, I put a spell on them so that they would blow up (just a little bit) when they hit the ground and proceeded to go to war with the carolers."

Draco lets a full laugh escape, surprising himself. The image of a bunch of bundled up old singing men being blasted with firing butterbeer has that effect.

  "I'm guessing they stopped?"

  "Yeah, they got the idea."

Draco shakes his head at her, yet there's still a smile on his face. "Do you have a fire obsession or something? You're always blowing things up."

     "People have called me a pyromaniac before. I mean, I love fire, so I guess I am."

     Draco can see it. Darcy likes fire, and fire makes up most of her features; she always has fire in her eyes, especially when she shows strong emotions.

     "Anyway, how are we doing with this?"

"Well, I think I at least figured out why the cabinet killed the bird--or, I guess the trip killed it." Darcy unrolls some portraits on the floor, kneeling over them as Draco bends to see better. "If I'm right, something with this fixture is burnt out. Also," she points somewhere near the bottom, "the magic that this is supposed to produce isn't strong enough."

"Alright," Draco says. "When did you make blueprints?"

  "About a month ago."

  "Okay, well--" Darcy's eyes suddenly widen, and she hastily pulls Draco down and behind the couch, cutting him off mid-sentence and also causing him to bite his tongue. But he doesn't complain because he hears it, too, and he knows exactly who's infiltrating their territory this time.

Potter and the female Weasel. They're not long, but the Weasel passes by the couch too closely, making both of them hold their breath. That, and Potter touches the Vanishing Cabinet, even opening the doors. Draco can see fear but also curiosity and perhaps a longing to talk to others in Darcy's eyes, but she knows the risk if she shows herself.

Once the happy couple leave, Draco and Darcy let out the breaths they'd been holding.

"Who was that?"

"Potter and his girlfriend," Draco snarls.

"Harry Potter?"

"Yeah. Ever heard of him?" Draco asks sarcastically.

  "I'm trying to remember," Darcy adds playfully. "Was he the one who got drunk and tore up that lady's flowerbeds about a week ago?"

"Yep, that's him."

  "I knew it."

They share another laugh, and Draco realizes that the only time he smiles or laughs or even feels remotely happy is when he's in this Merlin forsaken room that basically guarantees his death. If he succeeds in getting the Death Eaters in, he has to kill Dumbledore. And he's pretty sure he can't do it.

     But he figures that it's not the room that makes him happy, but the girl it hides. Draco turns his gaze to her and follows her eyes up to the skylight she made.  He's so close to her that he can smell her perfume; it's different than his mother's, which is musty and strong. Hers is subtle and barely there, but still nice when it shows itself.

"Why are you staring?" Darcy asks with an even more amused glint in her eyes.

"Because you're not exactly criminal material, Xenner."

"That's what everyone says. Then they see me angry and understand everything. But I'm glad you haven't yet...also surprised."

"I have the tendency to charm people."

"I wouldn't call it charming." Draco realizes he's incrementally leaning in toward her but doesn't stop because she is, too. Their lips must've been millimeters apart when a sudden fluttering sounds and breaks both of their focus. Turning, Draco sees three white doves flying onto a bar to sit.

"Did you dream those up?"

  "I didn't." She stands up to continue working. "Come on. This muffin is huge; share it with me."

*

Blaise has stopped giving Draco shit for disappearing all the time, but Draco knows he's still suspicious, and he also knows that Blaise knows he's a Death Eater because Blaise is one too. If he's not yet, he will be one. Nonetheless, Blaise has gotten off of his back.

Or that's what Draco thinks. Lately he's gotten the queer feeling that someone is following him around. At first he thought it would be Snape making sure he continued with his mission. But upon further thought, he deduced a few things.

One: Blaise wants to be involved in everything. He's a natural born leader (Draco grudgingly admits) so he wants in on any projects or schemes going on. How easily he gave up is a little bit unnerving.

Two: Blaise is never in their dormitory when Draco "goes to bed". But he's not in the common room either, which means he must be somewhere else in the castle. He's always in bed when Draco returns but never before. This just adds to the suspicion that Blaise is following him.

But Draco doesn't give a shit if Blaise finds out about his mission. He doesn't want him finding Darcy. Draco doesn't think he'd turn her in, but he also doesn't want anyone knowing in case Blaise slips up or tells Pansy (who will definitely tell someone else). He just can't risk it.

  "So are Xenner and you an item now?" Blaise asks at the dinner table one night. Draco freezes as everyone, not just Blaise, tunes in to their conversation.

"What makes you think that?" Draco asks with as much venom as he can conjure.

Blaise shrugs.

Pansy cuts in, "Yeah! You were with her at the Halloween Hogsmeade trip and the one last weekend!"

That was true. He'd snuck her out again for the Christmas Hogsmeade trip because he knows she hates being restricted to one place for too long. And yes, they hung out. But he didn't think anyone would care. And it's not like they were being flirtatious...

"We're not together," Draco says. "Those are the only times I've hung out with her."

  "You don't write or anything?" Blaise asks, raising his eyebrows.

  "Do you ever see me get owls besides ones from my mother?"

"No, but you could be hiding them."

  "Zabini, I'm not dating Xenner. I don't even know her. She's a criminal for Merlin's sake. We'd probably go on one date before she ended up in Azkaban again." But Draco knows this isn't true.

Blaise holds his hands up innocently as Pansy sniggers. "I was just asking."

Draco huffs, rolling his eyes and taking food for Darcy.

"Where you going with that?" Blaise calls after him.

  "To the Common Room--somewhere I can eat in peace."

The last thing he hears that makes his heart flutter is Pansy sighing and saying, "They'd be cute together."

*

  "What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Draco yells. Darcy is using an open flame way too close to the Vanishing Cabinet. "Do you want to burn it down?!"

"I'm not gonna burn it down!" she protests. "And I know how to put out a fire if it does!"

"Well we can't risk that," Draco scolds. "Can you do your science experiments somewhere else? What are you even doing?" She's in front of a table that holds a jar filled with blue sparks that are constantly moving back and forth, a tube with fire coming out of the top, and various cups with different colored liquids inside.

"Nothing," she mutters, using her wand to carefully move the table a safe distance from the Vanishing Cabinet and extinguishing the fire. "I thought you wouldn't be back until tonight."

  "I had time," Draco responds, eyeing her suspiciously. "Seriously, what were you doing?"

"Don't worry about it, Draco. Shall we get to work?"

Draco forgets about it. He hasn't told her why he's really fixing this, so she shouldn't have to tell him what mysterious things she's doing.

  "But you're not plotting a murder or anything, right?" Draco just wants to make sure she's not planning on getting herself locked up somehow. He'd hate to see her taken away forever.

"No. I like to think that murder is the one thing I'm above."

Draco drops the topic after that. They work comfortably the rest of the night, and Darcy finds herself falling asleep on the couch instead of in her bed that she wished up before Draco leaves. When she wakes up, Draco is gone and there's a pain in her side. Sitting up and lighting her wand to look around, she sees the top of a vial sticking out between the couch cushions. She pulls it out, and inside there's light liquid floating around. It's a vial of memories. Pocketing them and telling herself she'll look at them later, Darcy moves towards her bed before she falls back asleep.

Before she can get there, she notices a note Draco must've left before he departed. It's simple and short, written in his half-print, half-cursive handwriting.

See you tomorrow. Sleep well.