Out of Time

Chapter 55

It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Draco shifts his weight uneasily, waiting for Potter to jinx him. Or maybe not jinx him; maybe his shadow will catch it. Either way, it goes against the grain to stand here and wait to be jinxed, especially by the same prat who sliced his chest open a year ago.

It reminds him a bit of when they'd faff about with the spells from Advanced Potion Making, taking turns with the putrefaction hex for laughs. It took a great deal of trust on both their parts.

Potter slings something at him without preamble and Draco yelps, jumping to one side on instinct. "Hey! At least give me some warning, cockknob!"

Potter doubles over laughing. "Oh, please. It was just a bat-bogey hex. And if you'd been paying attention, you'd have seen me about to go."

"Alright, alright. Go on, then." He forces himself to stand still, keeping his shadow in front. He channels everything he can into the shadow, even committing to the vision - since they're facing the same direction, and all.

It does not work. The jinx arrives and bats begin flying out of his nose, rapid fire. Draco collapses in sneezes. "Fuck off, Potter!"

It takes the prat three tries to giggle out a proper, "Finite."

Draco only agrees to go again (and again, and again) because having a personal shield really would be quite handy. And what else are they going to do? He may as well hone the skill.

His concentration is sorely tested when he looks over to the porch, checking on Hermione, and sees Weasley there. Both Weasleys, that is. Draco can admit he has no innate problem with the eldest Weasley. Bill is of a good sort, and even though their families have never got on, Draco doesn't hold this against Bill. He doesn't think Bill holds it against him, either.

Thinking of their families as a larger composite is only avoiding thinking about their fathers. It's their fathers who never got on, but thinking about Lucius is painful.

Potter nails him with an easy jelly-legs jinx and Draco swears. He manages not to wobble himself right into the dirt, but it's close.

"Try that again! I wasn't paying attention."

"I know, you prat. Hold still."

"I can't, arsehole. Finite me and I'll hold still!"

"The eternal cycle," Hermione calls from the porch. "Which came first, the dragon or the egg?"

Once Potter successfully lands a finite, Draco sees that his shadow has wandered over to stand between Hermione and Weasley. It's not on the porch itself but it's positioned itself right in the middle and is staring up at Weasley's gobsmacked face. Huh. Well, it's what he'd have liked to do. He hadn't told it to, but wasn't that half the point? That it just... knew? It was an extension of him.

He has to summon it back to continue practising. He does this with a little too much force, leaping it across the yard, and he can tell it's somewhat alarming to his audience.

Just so long as it alarms Weasley. Draco had promised Hermione that she wouldn't be alone with Weasley, and he meant it. Right now, Bill is on the porch but if he goes back indoors, Draco will call an end to this little playdate in the yard.

Hm. Maybe he'll find other ways to unnerve Weasley with it. This shadow might be useful for more than just fielding jinxes.

Which makes him think of yet another use for it.