"The true genius shudders at incompleteness—and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be." –Edgar Allan Poe

*

Draco works the rest of the day, not leaving the castle until about two. Everyone else left at noon, but he had no plans until later, so he wasn't going to waste his time.

Darcy's words still ring in his head over and over, and he wants them written in a book or on the school banner because she's right. A house doesn't define you. At the same time, Draco feels like his house does define him. Slytherins are seen as morbid bad guys, and what Draco is involved in is definitely morbid and definitely bad. But, then again, he was forced into this; does that make him evil? He thinks so.

Shaking aside these thoughts for nighttime, he walks into the Hogs Head and finds Darcy there at the bar.

"Hey," he says as he sits next to her. There's a butterbeer in his spot.

Darcy closes the book she'd been reading. "Hi. I just want to clarify something: how am I getting back into the castle?"

"Huh." Draco hadn't thought of that. "I'll come for you tonight around one."

Darcy nods. "Okay. Wanna go somewhere?"

"Sure."

Darcy seems to sense his hesitation. "If people see us together and give you a hard time, you can say that I was bothering you."

"I'm not going to do that," Draco says, almost offended that she'd insinuate that. "I'll just say we were hanging out because you appeared lonely."

"It's technically true," Darcy says as they exit into the chilled afternoon. "Where to first?"

Draco shrugs. "I'll follow you." They go to Honeyduke's first, where he learns that Darcy has a weakness for sour candy (which explains why she sent him the sour ball), then the joke shop, where neither of them found any of the jokes very amusing, and then Darcy leads him to the outskirts by the Shrieking Shack.

"When I was younger, I would stay with a friend who lives around here, and we would dare each other to get as close as we could without getting too afraid." Darcy grins. "I always won."

"How far'd you get?"

Her grin grows wider. "I got inside once. I spent the night."

"What?" Draco asks. He can't even walk down the hill towards it. He remembers the time in his third year when Potter had assaulted him with snowballs in this spot and almost catches himself smiling.

"It wasn't bad," she claims. "It was a little dusty, but it's not like there were vampires in there. The only thing I found was some scratch marks and a broken bed frame and an old wand."

"I can't even cross this fence, and you spent the night," Draco says in disbelief. "That's insane."

"It's especially handy when you're trying to hide from the authorities," she adds in a lower voice. "They don't even consider it."

Draco can't hold back a laugh. "You're brilliant."

Darcy turns to him and gives him another real smile, showing her straight teeth. "Thanks. You are, too."

Draco scoffs. "Are you kidding? I can't even fix that damn Vanishing Cabinet."

"Draco, you can't base intelligence off of things like that. That's like testing my smarts by making me draw something. I can't draw worth a shit."

Draco looks at the dilapidated shack. "I guess."

Darcy checks her watch. "It's almost five. You should probably get back."

Draco nods. "I'll see you at one."

"Alright. Bye Draco. And thank you for risking bringing me here just for a day. It means a lot."

"Anytime you need to leave the Room of Requirement because you feel trapped, tell me," he says. "I'll take you somewhere else."

She nods, shoving her hands in her pockets. He starts back up the hill alone, thinking of all the places he could take her where she will feel freer than she has ever felt.

*

Blaise nudges him at dinner that night.

"What?" he asks, annoyed and tired.

"I saw you hanging with Xenner in Hogsmeade," Blaise says with a wry smile. Draco rolls his eyes. "First off, Pansy said you weren't coming. Second, why?"

"First off, Pansy doesn't know shit about my life or what I decide to do with it. Second, we met in The Three Broomsticks, and, I don't know, I guess we hit it off." Draco hopes Blaise believes his lie. And if he doesn't, oh well. He's not telling him anything.

"Mate, you have got it in for you," Blaise says with a chuckle. "Don't go getting feelings for her now. You never know when she'll end up behind bars again."

"You know, I doubt she will ever again," Draco snaps, hurrying out of the Great Hall before Blaise can question him further. He didn't lie there—he really doesn't think Darcy will go back to a life of crime after she's helped him. She doesn't want a life sentence, and she's expressed multiple times that she doesn't want to go back ever, not even for a day. So unless the urges to blow something up get too great, Draco is pretty certain she'll be alright.

And maybe he can help make sure of it.

*

"Hey." Darcy hears a voice behind her. She's still near the Shrieking Shack, and upon turning around, she sees Harry Potter walking towards her. Surprised, she feels her eyebrows raise.

"Can I help you?"

Potter stops a few feet in front of her, lowering his voice as he answers. "You can, actually."

Darcy folds her arms suspiciously. From what Draco has observed and told her, he thinks Potter is following him around and trying to figure out what he's doing—or, what they're doing. Based off this fact, Darcy thinks she knows what Potter wants from her.

"How so?"

"I saw you talking to Draco Malfoy," he starts, "and I was just wondering what he had to say to you."

Darcy starts to be strangely defensive. She would never tell Potter what Draco was doing, but Potter seems way too curious about something he should leave alone.

"What would he talk about that would be significant to you?"

"I just want to know if he's up to something inside the castle. He's disappearing, and I feel like he's not himself this year," he admits with a sigh.

Darcy turns away to hide her smirk. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love with him or something if you're that worried."

"I'm not worried for him—"

"You're worried for everyone else, got it," Darcy interrupts. She faces him once more. "You are the hero of the Wizarding World after all. But he didn't tell me anything about any plans. We just talked about money and honor."

"The two things Malfoy is made of," Potter mutters. "Are you sure?"

Darcy lies through her teeth. "Why would Malfoy confide something secret in me? I barely know him."

Potter is stumped; he shrugs, starting to walk away, his phrases turning choppy. "I'm overly curious. It's a bad habit. I thought you might know. Sorry to bother you."

"I'll keep my eyes open for you," Darcy lies again. Potter simply nods, trotting back up the hill and out of sight. When he's gone, Darcy smiles and laughs to herself.

She's not going to tell him a damn thing.