The Darkwood Wand

Numerology

Draco headed to the library, stubbornly determined to involve himself with a third witch this year. At least there would be no silly indiscretions or rabid Kneazles with this one. See, Ministry, I'm capable of learned behavior.

Isobel MacDougal was sitting at her usual table with a friend, both scribbling on parchment. Draco halted by the Magical Behavior section to look her over. Her blonde hair was piled up tonight and those glasses looked ready to fly off her nose. With any luck, she'd be ...

"Death Eater!" hissed a voice. Draco struggled to keep his face smooth. His eyes flickered toward two pale faces peeking out from behind the shelf. Little faces, Second Year at most. He touched the wand in his pocket, attempting to cast a nonverbal stinging hex, but two clown noses popped up on the boy's faces instead. They ducked behind the shelf again and Draco heard the pattering of panicked feet.

He turned to see Madam Pince standing five feet away. The wide-boned librarian was beginning to resemble her beloved books: skin like parchment, hair black as ink. She wore smooth brown robes broadly stitched with gold thread.

"Mr. Malfoy," she bit out.

"Madam Pince." Draco's hand was still on the wand in his pocket, and a book popped out slightly from its shelf, nudging his shoulder.

"Just here for a bit of information," he said smoothly. "A little self-improvement." Draco pulled out the book and held it up.

Self-improvement reading was part of Draco's PIP (Probationary Improvement Plan). A mad waste of time, in his opinion. He was already his Best Self—he wasn't plotting murder or Crucio-ing people this year, was he? It wasn't Draco's fault his Best Self wasn't very good.

Madam Pince's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, merely withdrew to the Astronomy section with an odd quirk to her mouth. Relieved, Draco approached his quarry, who now sat alone surrounded by stacks of books.

"Hello, Miss MacDougal," he said, stepping up to her table. He was trying not to loom, but that was difficult to avoid when one was tall and dressed in black. MacDougal jumped in her chair and clutched her quill. She really hadn't noticed him there?

"You're leaking ink," Draco said.

The Ravenclaw dropped her quill, then drew out a handkerchief to wipe her hand. "Th-thank you."

She was looking at Draco now, or more specifically at the book he held. Which, Draco now realized, was prominently titled "Sobbing Yourself to Sleep: Coping Techniques for Hurt Feelings."

Draco wanted to sink into the stone floor. Even better, Incendio the book, Obliviate the Ravenclaw, then sink into the stone floor. But none of these was a viable option, so he settled for standing over the girl and trying not to glare.

"Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, please," Draco said. "My Numerology chart is flawed."

"W-what's wrong with it?"

"My Heart's Desire Number." Draco tried to sound concerned, but he'd never heard anything so stupid. He couldn't believe this subject was part of the Arithmancy NEWT. Professor Vector claimed she taught Numerology purely as an academic exercise, but Draco hadn't missed the gleam in her eye when she discussed Soul Urge calculations.

"What does it say?" MacDougal looked surprised to be discussing a Death Eater's heart's desires.

Draco tucked the ridiculous book into the shelf behind him and opened his satchel, hoping the Ravenclaw noted its embossed black leather and palladium-plated buckles.