Forbidden [d.m.] || rewritten

chapter 21

My avoiding of Draco Malfoy was successful the next few weeks. He had only shown up for a few Transfiguration lessons, the only class we sat with each other in, and he hadn't come to many meals.

Dumbledore had hardly been around the last few weeks, also. Harry and I were completely unaware of his whereabouts and when he would return. We had one lesson since the first one, one in which we saw a memory of Dumbledore himself.

Dumbledore had gone to visit an 11-year-old Tom Riddle in his orphanage, offering him a place here at Hogwarts. It was evident that he was a hostile person, even as a child. He had been using magic against other people at a very young age and was highly aware of his abilities.

That was the last time we saw the headmaster. Harry started to feel like he was abandoning us, but I knew he'd be coming back with any information he could muster.

The four of us would head to Hogsmeade today even though it was stormy. I sat in the common room with Harry as he clutched his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. He had discovered that the book not only had tips to concoct potions accurately, but was filled with insightful hexes and spells invented by the Half-Blood Prince.

Harry had attempted many of these spells, particularly on those very deserving of a good kick in the arse. He glued Filch's tongue to the roof of his mouth twice and made Crabbe's toenails grow so long that they broke his shoes.

But, he had discovered a spell that I imagine would come in very handy during intimate moments.

Muffliato.

Anyone who casted this spell would be enraptured in a bubble of unbreakable silence. If anyone were nearby, no one would be able to hear any secret conversations or inappropriate extracurricular activities.

The walk to Hogsmeade was almost unbearable. I was bundled up in winter clothes and it was only the end of October. My face and ears were numb from the cold wind whistling through the air. Loads of students were out today, given that it was a Sunday morning.

We found ourselves at the Three Broomsticks at a table furthest away from the door to avoid the cold air. Hermione and Ron sat across from Harry and I, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"Blimey, it's been weeks since I've had a butter beer." Ron gasped after downing an entire class in one gulp, setting it firmly on the table.

Hermione and I didn't drink ours quite as fast, seeing as we took small sips of the sugary liquid. Butter beers were way too sweet to chug.

"Harry, my boy!" We were interrupted by the familiar reverberating voice of Professor Slughorn.

"Hello, sir. Wonderful to see you." Harry replied as he shook his stubby hand.

I sent him a cordial grin, as did Hermione and Ron. He seemed pretty tipsy, seeing as he came from the bar, and nearly knocked over Hermione's butter beer as he stumbled.

"Now, I won't take up all your time. But, I've come here to tell you about my supper parties." He explained, clumsily balancing himself on the back of Harry's chair. "My first one will be this Friday night and I'd love for you and your sister to come. And, of course, Miss Granger is invited, too!"

Poor Ron.

I thought of coming up with an excuse for us not to go to his supper party and leave Ron all alone on a Friday night. The expression on Ron's face was hard to witness.

"Oh, sorry sir." I sounded dejected when I spoke. "While we appreciate the invite, we've got a meeting with Dumbledore that night—"

Harry's head turned to the side. "Wait, I thought it was—"