Fluffy snowflakes swirled and fell, and the layer of snow beneath our feet kept growing and growing, even if it wasn't all that noticeable. The time for the Hogsmeade trip had arrived, and I, along with the other students permitted to attend this wonderful final event of the year, strode briskly along a completely fresh path, barely even formed or packed down in the snow. Bundled up in whatever they could find, hiding their faces from the snowflakes, students cheerfully discussed the possibility of finding something new at Honeydukes or other shops, making plans on the go.
"You look pleased," Daphne remarked, walking arm in arm with me, wrinkling her nose amusingly at a snowflake that landed on it and instantly melted.
"I love the snow, this kind of winter chill, and just... Can you feel it? The Christmas spirit is in the air."
"That's just the aromas of spices, pastries, and meat wafting from Hogsmeade..." Daphne smiled and adjusted the dark blue beret she wore instead of a hat. However, it looked quite nice paired with the familiar blue winter coat with black fur trim.
"Looks like you're right."
Taking a deep breath, I really did catch those scents, clearly coming from the village we were approaching.
"Pansy looks a bit down," I nodded toward Parkinson, who was walking beside us.
"Oh, she's been extremely busy lately," Daphne drawled with a smirk. "Trying to convey the subtle science of Charms to Bulstrode."
Pansy merely gave us an exhausted look.
"And how did you sink to such a life?"
"Leave me alone, Granger, I'm in sorrow."
A veritable herd of Gryffindors, led by Potter and Weasley, rushed past us. Whooping cheerfully, they pushed their way through the crowd. The path wasn't very wide, so many had to make room. The boys offered purely formal apologies, of course, but it didn't make things any easier. We had to step aside a bit too, and Daphne, seizing the moment, slipped her hand into mine, taking it off my elbow. Squeezing it slightly in return, I thought for a moment about her own words—about the inversely proportional relationship between a wizard's various attractions and their mind. I'm beginning to take our vague, fluid relationship for granted, and that's a bad thing. We need "something."
"You two are smiling so sweetly and slyly," Pansy emerged for a moment from her abyss of exhaustion, "that it's almost sickening."
"Be jealous in silence," Daphne rebuked her with a smile.
"By the way..."
"Yes?" Pansy glanced at me, nearly stepping off the path and catching a layer of untrampled snow with her foot.
"You've been showing very little activity lately. Usually, you're here, there, either discussing or listening to something in one group, then in another."
"It's boring," she shrugged indifferently. "It used to be somewhat interesting; after all, students behave completely differently at Hogwarts than at home. But now, when you already know everyone inside out, it's just... boring."
"You could entertain yourself by weaving some intrigues."
"What's the point if the outcome is always the same?"
"Meaning?"
Pansy was about to answer, but Daphne beat her to it.
"Say you weave some petty, trivial intrigue—for example, against the Gryffindors. What's the outcome? Always the same. They lose points, fail to see the elegance and depth of the idea, only the superficial goals, and on top of that, you end up being the one blamed for all the troubles in the eyes of society."
"Except for Malfoy," Pansy snorted, tossing her head. "His intrigues always ended in complete fiasco. He just created problems for absolutely everyone while wearing a smart and arrogant look. Good thing he's learned to control himself now."
"And yet," I couldn't hold back a smirk, glancing at the grinning Parkinson and ignoring another group of students walking a bit more purposefully toward Hogsmeade, "you spent a lot of time in his company, nodding along and supporting him."
"My father's orders, nothing more. Even though he is old acquaintances with Draco's parents, he strongly recommended that I secure Draco's support. After all, we won't be in school forever, and whatever negative qualities Draco might have, he will inherit both money and influence."
"For the money."
"It doesn't matter..."
"Let's talk about the weather instead," Daphne interrupted our conversation. "I get enough of these purely Slytherin talks about profit, interests, and influence in the common room."
And so we reached Hogsmeade, making idle conversation. The village, as always in the pre-Christmas season, was heavily dusted with snow. High pointed roofs with white caps hanging off them, wisps of smoke from tall chimneys, soft yellow light in the windows. And, of course, wizards—a lot of them. Yes, as always, the majority were Hogwarts students, but there were other adult wizards here too, and my keen eye managed to pick out a couple of Aurors in civilian clothes. They differ subtly in their manners, movements, glances, and how and where they choose to stand or walk.
"There are Aurors in the village," I shared my observations when our trio stopped at the window of the local bookstore, while the girls debated whether to go in.
"Not surprising," Pansy replied indifferently, while Daphne decisively pulled me by the hand into the shop.
Stepping into the pleasant, bright space—completely crammed with cabinets and shelves of books in some chaotic order understood only by the owner—I breathed in that characteristic smell of books. Daphne pulled me toward the Potions section, where we, and even Pansy, began methodically reading the spines of the books, looking for something new or at least interesting.
"I agree," Daphne unexpectedly replied to Pansy's earlier statement, loosening the thin scarf tied around her neck. "In light of recent events, it really isn't surprising."
"And how does your house feel about the... escapees?"
Even though I knew some of the students' opinions thanks to the little spiders scattered around Hogwarts, firsthand information takes on a completely different shade. It's one thing when someone discusses an issue with a close buddy, and quite another when the issue is brought out to the public.
"It varies," Daphne said, having clearly spotted an interesting book and reaching for it. "It's no secret to you that many are related to them to varying degrees."
"Of course. Take Selwyn, for example... Or Malfoy and Lestrange. Though, speaking of the Blacks, it's easier to say who isn't related to them."
"That's exactly why the attitude is twofold. On the one hand, they're our own. On the other, these 'own' people can do things that will come back to bite everyone."
"And I have information," Pansy somehow managed to find a book on Charms and Spells even in the Potions section, "that Minister Fudge plans to give everyone a present for Christmas."
"And what might that be?" I couldn't help but keep the topic going, seeing Parkinson's sly and pleased smile. "Is he going to resign?"
"Oh, Granger," the girl feigned offense, pouting. "That's no fun."
"Well, could he really give any other kind of 'present'?"
For ten minutes we successfully browsed the books, eventually reaching the very depths of the corridors formed by bookshelves. There were other students here, of course, but compared to Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks, Zonko's, and other entertainment shops, you could say the place was deserted. But was it surprising that Hermione came exactly here? No. Shaking the snow off her hat, scarf, and winter coat—which vanished before even hitting the floor, thanks to magic—she immediately rushed to the second floor of the shop, seeing no one around.
"Now I'm actually curious," Daphne drawled thoughtfully, as we both watched Hermione run upstairs. "What book made her rush here like that?"
"Anything that might fall into her current sphere of interests," I shrugged. "Right now, as you've noticed, she's very passionate about various counter-curses, DADA, and the like. Probably something from that field."
"More than likely. And you..." Daphne turned toward Pansy. "Moping again?"
"Nothing brings me joy," Pansy said sadly, theatrically rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Everything is dust."
"Let's go, Hector," Daphne pulled me toward the counter, behind which stood a bored salesman of indeterminate age. "She's wallowing in her very specific kind of suffering."
"And what kind is that?"
"You understand nothing about maidenly suffering, Hector Granger."
After paying for our purchases, we waited for Pansy and left the bookstore together, setting off to wander further along the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, occasionally encountering older kids strolling leisurely, or younger ones rushing about frantically.
"Don't you ladies think," I addressed both girls at once, "that a trip to Hogsmeade is a rather boring event?"
"We just need to go to The Three Broomsticks," Pansy immediately suggested, "grab a table, order some food and drinks, and watch some drama inevitably unfold there."
"And how would you feel about escaping to London?"
Both girls stopped dead in their tracks, forcing me to stop as well.
"Are you serious?" Daphne asked, surprised.
"Yes, why not? It's not that difficult. And definitely more varied."
The girls exchanged equally bewildered glances.
"This smacks of an adventure."
"Oh, Daphne, that's exactly what it is! But..." Pansy shifted her gaze to me, and Daphne did the exact same. "How do you plan to get us there?"
"There's the 'brazen' option—just walk past the boundary of the Anti-Apparition charms and, well, Apparate."
"Thanks, but no thanks," Pansy crossed her arms under her chest. "That's all we need..."
We were standing almost right next to a shop selling all sorts of useful and useless trinkets, and at that very moment, five third-years ran out, making a lot of noise, laughing, and showing each other their purchases as if they hadn't just seen them inside. When the hyperactive group passed by, Pansy continued her thought:
"I wouldn't risk Side-Along Apparition with just any adult wizard, considering I don't know how to do it myself yet. Sorry, but safety isn't an empty word here."
"Agreed," Daphne nodded, giving me no chance.
"Alright. I'll practice later with someone less valuable to me and to society. Otherwise, I might really get splinched."
"Exactly!"
"Then," I glanced toward the hill where the Hog's Head pub stood isolated on the outskirts, "we have another option."
"Also not simple," Daphne shook her head. "We can leave through the pub, but to where?"
"The Knight Bus?" I offered another option.
"They'll find out about it right away at Hogwarts," Pansy disagreed this time. "It's actually not that easy to leave Hogwarts with a guarantee of secrecy. Even by Apparating. You have to leave the charmed zone, and the only normal way to do that is toward the Forbidden Forest."
"Or there..." I nodded again toward the Hog's Head. "The pub itself is already outside the boundary of the charms."
"And besides, such spontaneous, unplanned stunts are the domain of Gryffindors. And London... Now, Diagon Alley itself might still be okay."
"And what's wrong with the fireplaces?"
"We'd have to emerge in a public place, like the Leaky Cauldron," Pansy protested. "They'll see our faces there. There will definitely be acquaintances who will report it to whoever needs to know, and whoever doesn't. And punishment will be waiting for us at Hogwarts, because leaving it and the surrounding territory is only allowed... when it's allowed..."
Pansy ultimately dismissed the idea, but Daphne and I exchanged an understanding look.
"If that's the only problem, there's a solution. Let's go," Daphne pulled her friend forward down the street, and all I could do was follow them.
Stepping into a small alleyway between houses, Daphne quickly explained to Pansy that certain masking charms don't drop off when traveling through the Floo network if they are anchored with an additional rune embedded in the imaginary formula—we don't take Ancient Runes for nothing. As a result, two minutes later, a completely different boy and two girls walked out of that alleyway, albeit with the same body proportions and in the same clothes. Throwing thin cloaks with deep hoods over our clothes—everyone happened to have one with them—we cast a light Notice-Me-Not charm on each other and walked at a brisk pace toward the Hog's Head.
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