Bonding and Un-bonding

Chapter 15: 6 January 8:00 AM -- 23 April 2:00 PM – Bonding and Un-bonding

Hermann surprised Draco by informing him that the literature in the Boys' Dorm at Durmstrang had suggestions for taking care of more than one witch. Verdammt, thought Draco, I went to the wrong school. The pamphlet was not available in English, but it had been translated into American, which Draco might be able to read.

The pamphlet, even though it served a minority, grew out of the social conditions surrounding us. We were not hunter-gatherers or nomadic shepherds. We were within, and interacting with, first-rate, industrialized, twentieth-century nations where there was equal training for both witches and wizards. There was a small surplus of women, especially among the older generations for whom the pamphlet was originally written. There was no reason for anyone to be alone or without a family. Witches were especially fond of social bonding. It was obvious that, under these conditions, the pamphlet would be witch-centric. Some amount of polygamy was as natural as the rail system that brought students to Hogwarts and the modern plumbing they expected when they arrived. It came from the same conditions that provided the rail system and the plumbing. The version in the Durmstrang Boys' Dorm made efforts to dispel our adolescent fantasies. It was not successful, but it made the effort.

Glancing at it, Draco decided it contained good information. On the other hand, it was not entirely encouraging. It began with a number of warnings:

(1) Consider how difficult it is to care for one witch. Quadruple this.

(2) Success depends mostly on the witches, not you.

(3) You will be a minority member of the household.

(4) Avoiding failure requires the impossible: Treat different witches equally and fairly.

The pamphlet then stated that a polygamous relationship could be highly rewarding for all concerned (chapter six), but the key element was that it must be rewarding for all. It continued –

Get real, stud boy. There are four basic components for successful polygamy.

First, the witches must be able to live together harmoniously. Their relationship can be mutual respect and tolerance, sisterly affection, or sexual romance. Whatever its nature, if the witches cannot live together in an agreeable manner, then your life will be hell on earth. Recognizing compatible witches is covered in chapter two. Fortunately, there are a number of things a wizard can do to promote harmony. Unfortunately, there are a very large number of things a wizard can do to disrupt harmony. This topic is covered in chapter twelve, which contains essential information for any wizard involved with more than one witch.

Second, all the witches must want, desire, and need you in their individual lives, and all the witches must want, desire, and need you in their collective lives. They outnumber you. If they do not love you and care for you, then your life will be hell on earth. At the very least, they should all evince affection both verbally and physically. Help in deciding whether or not they are sincere is covered in chapter three.

Third, all of them must want this polygamous relationship with you. If one or more of them wants a monogamous relationship instead of the polygamous relationship, then the endeavor will not succeed. Determining their commitment to the relationship is covered in chapter four.

Fourth, you must genuinely like each of the witches, you must genuinely like them equally, and you must genuinely like them as a social group. This is treacherous ground. It is easy to delude yourself because of an intense attraction towards one of the witches. If you cannot relate to all of them in an equal and loving manner, then your life will become hell on earth. Guides to assessing your feelings toward the individual witches and toward the entire group are covered in chapter five.

There were chapters on finance, children, and short-term polygamous relationships. There was even a chapter on the polygamous aspects of serial monogamy. Finally, Draco found the section that even a Malfoy needed when confronted with several witches at once: sex (chapter nine). He went directly to the subsection on getting started.

Draco was embarrassed that after several months they had only gotten to light snogging. The pamphlet was reassuring about the slow pace. "Remember, relating to two witches is four times as hard as relating to one witch. In compensation, two witches can be four times as satisfying as one witch." The pamphlet went on to say that necking (American for snogging?) as a threesome could be pleasurable enough that this phase of the relationship could last quite a while, especially among younger witches and wizards. At that point, the pamphlet rambled a bit, pointing out that the verbal and physical affection, the psychological comfort that two devoted witches can deliver, could be overwhelming.

The pamphlet asked if the witches were getting impatient. "No, didn't think so." Was the wizard getting impatient? "Yes, a little." Were the three of them becoming friends? "Yes, definitely." Was the wizard feeling real affection for the witches? "Yes, yes, yes." Were the witches showing real affection and caring for the wizard? "Yes, absolutely."

Draco also discovered what he had observed but not consciously known: He only snogged Barbara and Shelly as a pair. While interacting with one witch, he and the witch acted like good friends. It might be that the witches were passionate only when the other witch was present. It might be habit. It might be that individually they were shy. It might be a way of ensuring that both witches received an equal amount of affection.

The pamphlet urged the wizard to talk issues over with his witches, to let them know what he was thinking, to find out how they felt about things, and to come to some kind of understanding.

Draco, brave soul that he was, brought the matter up the next time he, Barbara, and Shelly were alone in the Slytherin common room. He told Barbara and Shelly that he was happy about how things were. They, being intelligent women, were immediately skeptical. Draco finally got around to asking if they minded his being affectionate to them singly. No, he didn't want to stop the threesome cuddling. Really, he didn't. Honestly, if he couldn't cuddle both of them together, then an important part of his life would be missing. No, one of them shouldn't leave now. He absolutely, positively, definitely liked both of them, and he certainly, assuredly, without a doubt wanted them both to stay and hold him right now. Yes, really. His feelings would be hurt if they didn't. He was sorry he upset them. Yes, he thought that he had upset them. He didn't mean to. He only wanted to be certain that everything he did was okay with them. He regretted mentioning it and hurting their feelings. Okay, okay, their feelings weren't really hurt. No, he didn't want to change anything. It would just be some extra cuddling. He just wanted to know what they wanted. Yes, okay, he believed them when they said it was nice of him to ask. Yes, it was fine with him if Barbara and Shelly wanted some individual quality time with him. Yes, it really was fine with him. He was okay with that. That's what he was asking them about. And, no, he wasn't getting upset. And, yes, it would be nice if they brought him some tea.

The pamphlet was right about quadruple effort. The pamphlet, however, had not mentioned quadruple fear. He was apprehensive before the conversation, scared during the conversation, and terrified now that the conversation had happened. "What have I done?" he muttered to himself later. "Everything was fine. I was having a good time. Have I ruined everything?"

At noon the next day, Shelly met Draco in the hallway. Shelly checked that no one was looking, took Draco by the hand, and pulled him into an empty classroom. They stood about a foot apart, holding hands.

"This is different," said Shelly.

"Yes," said Draco.

Shelly put her arms around Draco while he stroked her hair. After a minute, Shelly and Draco walked to lunch where they joined Barbara.

Later that day, Draco left the Slytherin common room. He planned the usual. He would meet Barbara and Shelly for tea, perhaps take a walk, and then they would study together until dinner. He wondered if Hermann would join them or be studying with Hermione. Perhaps Hermann would join them later. I hope he doesn't start reeking of Hermione, thought Draco. As he left the Slytherin common room, he met Barbara. They found a secluded spot on their way to tea, where, once again, Draco found himself holding hands with one of his girlfriends.

"Shelly was right," said Barbara. "This is different."

"It's very pleasant," said Draco.

"Yes," said Barbara, giving Draco a long, slow hug.

They walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall where they joined Shelly for tea.

* * *

The espionage was prospering, if that's the correct word. The list of financial backers who had gathered at the Malfoys for New Years was a goldmine of information. Somehow Mrs. Clearwater and her daughter had gained access to the confidential personnel records presided over by Mr. Clearwater. A sweep was made looking for people who had been recommended by the Malfoy guests. They had been placing their people as administrative assistants and auditors. A standard rule of espionage is that it's easier to suborn someone who is already in position than to place your own person in that position. The German trackers were now watching the administrative assistants and auditors to see who was vulnerable to blackmail. They could be turned into double agents.

* * *

"They could tell me what they wanted," complained Draco.

"I thought everything was getting better," I said, knowing that Draco was talking about Barbara and Shelly.

Draco stopped to look at me. "It was."

We continued our walk along the lake. It was late Friday afternoon.

"Luna and Shan are upset. I bruised them pretty hard in practice the other day. I tried to tell them I was sorry, but they thought I was careless."

Neither of us mentioned that the Potions professor was unhappy with us. We had botched every brew the first two days of this week and decided to quit before we hurt ourselves. The Potions professor had told us that Potions masters don't get time off.

We had reached the place where the forest meets the lake. A bird appeared in an open air space amidst the canopy of tree branches. With lightning reflexes, Draco downed it with a spell. I took the next bird. For a few minutes, the feathers flew.

We stopped, embarrassed. We tried to hide the evidence by using spells to fling the dead birds way out into the middle of the lake.

"I hope no one saw us," said Draco.

We had visions of the gamekeeper thundering towards us in moral outrage. What would the girls say?

"How's it going with you and Luna and Shan?" asked Draco.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm going crazy."

Draco smiled.

"Easy for you to smile," I said. "You don't have to see Luna prancing into the common room wearing the gods-know-what. Sometimes she forgets she's a beautiful girl. I am going crazy."

"I thought you had arranged individual snogging time for the girls," I said.

"It was great," said Draco, "then they started complaining that I didn't understand them ... that I didn't know what they wanted."

There was a pause before Draco said, "I don't understand them. I don't know what they want."

"What about Shan Li," asked Draco, "the Hufflepuff Prefect? Ice and steel Shan?"

"Ice and steel," I said. "A Hufflepuff Prefect."

"That's too bad," said Draco. "She's cute."

"I know," I said. "And she grows on you. She looks better all the time."

"We're all fucked up," we said in American, thinking about school, about the girls, about the birds.

Draco and I ate a lonely dinner together thinking about the harshness of life. All the girls wanted to go to the Hufflepuff common room for a game of charades. Draco declined, thinking he couldn't take any more complaints from Barbara and Shelly about not understanding them. I declined, thinking I couldn't take any more flaunting of unavailable sexuality from Luna and Shan. The girls decided we'd rather brood than be with them. Draco and I knew better. We knew the truth, that we were weak and cowardly. We had reached our limit for whining and teasing.

I mentioned the mundane game of darts to Draco. The best we could find and charm was a wooden post and some steel spikes. We hurled the spikes into the wood post with inspired ferocity.

"You could always try what's-her-name," said Draco.

I hurled the next spike through the post with enough ferocity that it ricocheted around the room.

"Wow!" said Draco, both impressed and amused.

Doubled over with laughter, Draco managed to get out, "Sorry I mentioned it. Did I hit a nerve?"

That's my good friend Draco, always by my side, always supportive.

We gathered what was left of the post with the spikes in it and proceeded to the Slytherin common room where we tossed the remnants of our game into the fireplace. As the whole mess reduced itself to cinders and slag, Draco and I demonstrated the Durmstrang circle dance to an interested audience. First the innocent first years joined us, then the aloof seventh years, and finally the whole Slytherin dorm, including the girls.

It was the dance of the damned, the cursed, the lost. We were the damned, the cursed, and the lost.

Draco and I had collapsed on the couches in the Slytherin common room. Draco was surrounded by Slytherin girls and a few boys. They wanted to know what they could get him and whether they could dance again next Friday. Draco asked for some cold fruit juice and promised another dance next Friday. Good, I thought ... the healing power of group activities and House approval.

"I suppose you want someone to bring you an iced drink, too?" I heard. I looked up into the knowing eyes of a Slytherin witch. I had noticed her while dancing and had been trying not to stare at her.

"I can get it myself," I said mildly.

"Good," she said, "because we need to raid the kitchen for more. Do you want to come along?"

"Sure," I said. I sat up and put my feet on the floor. I paused. The long walk along the lake, the dart game, and the dancing had caught up with me.

"You need help," she said as she pulled me to my feet. Strong lady.

"I gather you're Hermann, Draco's Ravenclaw partner. I'm Pansy, Pansy Parkinson."

Pansy took a count of the drinks needed, and we were on our way to the kitchen.

"Glad to meet you Pansy. You dance well."

I didn't say she was graceful and coordinated. She wasn't. She was a little flat footed, but she danced well anyway, and I had enjoyed watching her.

"What did you and Draco do to that poor wood post?"

"We threw spikes at it."

"I could see that."

"Well, you asked," I replied. I looked at the smile dancing in her eyes.

"Perhaps you were wondering why," I said.

"No," said Pansy. "It's obviously an ancient Durmstrang custom, and it's part of your continuing corruption of Draco. Before the term is over, you'll have the entire Slytherin dorm throwing spikes at wood posts and performing tribal dances."

"It never entered my mind that you were going crazy from stress," added Pansy with a straight face and twinkling eyes.

We gathered the drinks along with some ham and biscuits. We met the Caretaker on the way back. Pansy whisked the kitchen baskets into a dark corner, announced she was a Prefect escorting a poor little lost Ravenclaw, and declared she had everything under control. We could hear the Caretaker's brain cells rub together as he looked at the poor little lost Ravenclaw. A demon cursed, cat eating, bird of prey.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of him," said Pansy, gripping my arm so that I wouldn't get lost ... or eat a cat.

After the Caretaker had gone, Pansy asked, "Didn't you and Draco try soaking in a hot tub to relax?"

"No," I said, "it never occurred to us to take a bubble bath together. No."

"That's cheeky," said Pansy. "And to a Prefect who saved you from both the Caretaker and getting lost."

"You're right," I said. "What can I do to show my appreciation?"

"Well, you could hang around the common room, stuffing yourself with ham and biscuits and letting your muscles get sore; or you could let me give you the relaxing hot-soak that you really need."

"If I agree to the tub," I asked, "will you bring me some iced drinks?"

"Bloody, thick-headed Ravenclaw! Yes, I'll bring you some iced drinks. Are you happy now?"

"I will be," I said.

Pansy took me to the Prefect's Bath, told me I looked about Draco's size, and left to get me clean underwear and to borrow a clean robe. When she returned, I was soaking in clear warm water, not certain which soap to use.

"Ye gods," said Pansy, "don't you have any modesty? Where are the bubbles?"

"I was waiting to ask your preference," I said.

"Oh, you were certain I was going to get in the tub with you, were you? It's the faucet with the pink pearl button on your left."

I pushed the pink pearl button. "Does that mean you're getting in with me?"

"Yes, but if you were a gentlemen, you would have had the bubbles ready."

Pansy took off her robe. "Wow, Pansy," I said. "That's a great bathing costume."

"It's not a bathing costume. It's my underwear, and you shouldn't be looking."

"Let me rephrase it, then. Wow, Pansy, you look great in your underwear."

"Are you still looking!"

"No. I'm trying to say the right thing."

"Yes, of course you are. You are the very embodiment of good manners, you are."

I heard Pansy splash into the tub. No, not graceful. Pansy used a sponge to soap and rub my back until I was falling asleep, took me back to a Slytherin couch, and brought me a pillow and blankets. When I awoke it was a new day, and Draco was ready to work on Potions.

Next Friday, we told the kitchen elves that the Slytherins would be eating a light dinner, but they would want to eat again around midnight. Yes, the elves could watch the dance if they wished. They could even dance if they liked. What did we care? Hop on a table and cut loose. Express your primitive soul along with the tribal Slytherins. Once again, Pansy hauled me away from the feast to the tub. Pansy insisted it was essential for the continuance of my mental health, which was obviously fragile. Anyone could see that.

Pansy asked about Durmstrang, and I agreed that we emphasized the Dark Arts and that we went crazy in the winter exactly as Pansy had guessed. Pansy told me about living with her family. High maintenance lady, I decided. It's a good thing I wasn't going to become attracted to a snobbish Slytherin witch.

* * *

The Friday Slytherin Dance became a regular event, with the Slytherins adding musical accompaniment. Younger Slytherins were excited about it since it promoted fellowship across the age groups. The third time in the tub, I persuaded Pansy that she should be the one to get a massage. She added more bubbles and tossed her bra out of the tub.

"Why are you doing this for me?" asked Pansy as she became relaxed. "No one does anything for me."

"You must be feeling tired and unhappy," I said. "Aren't things going well?"

"You're right, I shouldn't complain," she said. "But there aren't many people here I can talk to."

"Well, maybe something's bothering you," I said.

Pansy was quiet for a while. She wasn't used to talking about herself, but the massage was having its effect. "I was home for the holidays, and Mum had me meet all these eligible sons from rich families."

There was another pause. "My purpose in life is to get married off to a rich family, but I'd rather have a life of my own."

She continued, "But I don't know what I want to do."

I asked her what she liked in school. Pansy said she had received Outstanding in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had received Exceeds Expectations in four other subjects.

"Ye gods, Pansy, that's great. Perhaps you're having problems deciding because you're good at everything."

It later occurred to me that Pansy could have done better in the exams, but she hadn't applied herself. Why bother? Her family wanted her to be a sexual bargaining chip.

When the massage was over, Pansy told me I had made her feel a lot better, and I helped a limp Pansy back to her dorm. She still insisted that I spend the night in the Slytherin common room. After all, wasn't I going to have breakfast with her and Draco? She brought me a pillow and blankets before stumbling off to her dorm room. I went to sleep suppressing improper urges. No, I could not become involved with a high-maintenance witch.

By the fourth dance, Pansy had found a swimming costume for me and had bought one for herself. We celebrated our new-found modesty by having a water fight.

We talked about what Pansy liked, but it was a delicate subject since under the right circumstances she would have become an Auror. A powerful one, I thought. They probably wouldn't admit her with the current suspicions about the purebloods. Pansy did let slip that she had received Auror training last summer from her Uncle Frederick. Discreet inquiries revealed that Uncle Frederick was an Auror famous for both his fieldwork and his training ability until he 'went bad' and then retired to his estate. I promised Pansy I wouldn't tell anyone, and I never did tell anyone even though it was valuable information. "I don't have to betray everyone, not all the time," I told myself.

Pansy insisted that she give me a massage. She was teasing me. "You want to get your hands on me and get in some naughty touches," she told me.

"You mean you don't want me to?"

"A gentleman wouldn't have said that," retorted Pansy.

I mangled an e. e. cummings poem:

"The gentlemen I mean are not refined.

They say whatever's on their mind.

They do whatever's in their pants.

They shake the mountains when they dance."

"Yuck!" said Pansy. "What's that? Is that some demon-cursed poetry you keep beside your polygamy book back at Durmstrang?"

"Durmstrang's not all bad. It would have made an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor out of you," I told Pansy. "You could be great, you know, and Durmstrang would help you on the way to greatness."

Pansy ended the evening by kissing me on my forehead and wishing me 'sweet dreams.' "For your mental health." Actually, it did improve my mental health.

The Ravenclaws noticed that I was having Saturday breakfast with Draco and Pansy. They were puzzled. They informed me that Draco and Pansy were once a couple, and they were the King and Queen of the Purebloods. I wasn't only puzzled, I was uncomfortable. I was being friendly to Draco and Pansy at Hogwarts while working against their friends and family in the outside world. Did Pansy know I wasn't a pureblood?

* * *

"Pansy, I have to tell you something." We were alone at a table in the Great Hall.

"You have a wife and two kids in Germany."

"No."

"You have two wives and one kid in Germany. I saw that terrible book on polygamy you gave Draco."

"No."

"You're really a Dark Wizard. I knew it all along. I'll keep your secret, love. You can trust me."

"Pansy, you're not making this easy."

"Why should I? I love getting bad news."

"I've heard you take the pureblood wizard stuff seriously," I said.

Pansy looked at me. "You've been lying to me!" She stood and glared at me.

"Not really."

"Bloody hell, you haven't!" yelled Pansy in a voice that filled the room.

The Great Hall heard that I was a false friend, that I might be able to fool people for a while, that I would be found out, that I fenced with girls because I was weak, that I studied with girls because I thought I was a Casanova, that I must be a Durmstrang reject, and that everyone would be better off if I left on the next train.

How love and hate do mix, I thought, as I surreptitiously gripped my wand and said, "Does this mean it's all over between us, Snookums?"

* * *

The list of financial backers who had gathered at the Malfoys for New Years continued to be a goldmine of information. Patricia and Penelope Clearwater were now looking at real estate and identifying possible meeting places, local headquarters, and safe houses for the Death Eaters. Their success would change the nature of the game for all concerned.

I was staggered by the accomplishments of Patricia and Penelope ... arguably the two deadliest witches on the face of the earth. Their weapon of choice was intelligence.

* * *

I was in the Ravenclaw Common Room engrossed in Arithmancy derivations. It was an hour before midnight, and I had just left Draco after working on Potions with him in the Slytherin common room. Shan wandered over, and I said hello.

"I'm going on Prefect patrol," she said.

"Okay," I said, disappointed that she wasn't going to stay and talk to me.

She stood looking at me for a while before saying, "It's kind of lonely patrolling."

"I can join you in a little while," I said. "I only have a few more problems to solve."

"Oh, don't put yourself out," she said, annoyed. "I'm sure you'd find the whole thing and me boring."

She walked away. Once again, my superb social skills had the girls delighted to see me.

"I would really like to come with you," I said, catching up to her.

Shan refused to look at me.

"Are you going to hex me if I come with you?" I asked.

I was learning that if I wanted to be with Shan, I had to be responsive to small signals. Of course, I was always worried that I was bothering her. Any day now she could turn on me in anger and tell me to leave her alone. I was going crazy trying to figure out the signals ... or if she was sending any.

"No, I won't hex you," she said, still not happy

As we left the common room and entered the hallway, Shan said, "You go on patrol all the time with Draco."

Was that the problem? I wondered. If it was, then I was glad she had said something. Was it a good sign that she was jealous of Draco?

"We're usually working on joint projects in Potions," I said, trying to justify my patrolling with Draco. "I can't do much by myself. I may as well take a walk to clear my head."

"You two are the terror of the lower castle," said Shan.

"What!" I said.

"You two even scare the other Prefects."

"What?" I said.

It was an evening for eloquence.

"Are you telling me that you didn't know this?" said Shan.

"Hogwarts has never seen a more humane pair of patrollers," I protested.

Shan gave me a skeptical look.

"Really," I asserted. "Draco and I talked it over. We decided the whole thing was based on hypocrisy."

At least I had Shan's non-hostile attention now. Shan was always interested in moral issues.

"Most of the people out after hours," I said, "are couples looking for a quiet place to snog. That's what Draco is always doing."

"What about you?" asked Shan.

"Draco's getting the girls. I'm getting jealous," I said.

"Almost everyone else out after hours," I continued, "is getting food from the kitchen. Draco and I do that all the time."

"We do catch a few students doing some damage," I admitted. "We send them to Flitwick. We tell them to tell Flitwick exactly what they were doing and why. We tell them that if they don't tell Flitwick everything, we will find out about it."

"Why Flitwick? Do they tell him everything?" asked Shan.

"We thought Flitwick would be understanding," I said. "We think he listens to them, tells them they're not taking a constructive approach to their problems, and sends them to the infirmary for a calming potion."

"Do they tell him everything?" repeated Shan.

"We don't care," I told her. "Draco and I figure the kid was doing damage because of some grudge against Hogwarts, probably justified."

Shan looked scandalized.

"By the time we catch him and Flitwick talks to him, the kid has gotten over his grudge," I said defensively. "Who cares what happens after that?"

Shan looked even more scandalized. I wasn't certain she could handle the rest of the story. I walked along, lost in brooding.

"Hermann?" said Shan. "Is something wrong?"

Truth be told, I was sulking. I had been falsely accused, wrongly maligned, and simply misunderstood. This was my reward for being part of the most decent and effective wizard patrol the school had ever seen. It wasn't fair.

"Hermann," said Shan, "I want to hear the rest of it. Really."

"Draco carries vials of contraceptive potion," I said. "He hands it to all the girls, warns the couples that we will be back in about ten minutes and tells them that they should be back in their dorms."

"You give them ten minutes!" said Shan in shock.

"They have ten minutes to find a better hiding place or get back to their dorms," I said. "If they go back to their dorms, fine. If we find them again, we escort them back to their dorms. If they successfully hide from us, they have the contraceptive potion if they need it."

Shan still seemed to be in shock. Were Draco and I outrageous? We thought we were reasonable.

"Our policy on the kitchen raids," I said, "is that the students only take what they can eat ... and no alcohol."

"Didn't you catch Ron and Harry in the kitchen?" asked Shan. "That one's famous."

"I can't remember any ...," I started to say.

"Oh, yeah, I remember," I said. "It was a Saturday night, and we had finished the patrol. We went down to raid the kitchen ourselves, and Ron and some other bloke were there. Out of reflex, Draco barked out, 'Take only what you can eat and no alcohol.' They asked about butterbeer, and Draco told them they could have all the gottverdammt butterbeer they wanted. While they were leaving, Draco made some remark about their choking on it. They may have heard that. I don't know what the fuss is about. Isn't Ron a Prefect? Can't he raid the kitchen with impunity?"

Shan was giving me a wide-eyed look.

"Look," I said, "we didn't mean to startle them. We were just tired. And they were delaying our hypocrisy."

"Your hypocrisy?" asked Shan.

"Yes," I said. "Every Saturday night, Draco and I let the elves pour us a large glass of brandy. We toast the successful potions. We lament the failed brews. Draco celebrates the good times with Barbara and Shelly and broods over the latest fights. The elves are happy to see us because we stop a lot of food wastage. The kitchen raids have become a rational service the elves like to perform."

"Besides," I said, "we have a policy towards Gryffindors. A Gryffindor out of bed is on a perilous quest to save the world or elves. We're not going to interfere."

"No wonder you two scare everyone," said Shan, shaking her head in disbelief. At least Shan was smiling now.

"We've never hurt anyone!" I protested. "We've never hexed anyone. We've never taken points from anyone. Draco tries to make sure all the girls are safe. We have a rational policy about kitchen raiding."

"We call ourselves the KGB Patrol," I said, proudly.

"What?"

"Kitchen-Girls-Building Patrol," I replied.

I was tired of talking about myself. I wanted to hear about Shan. The longer I was with her, the more attractive she looked. I wanted Shan to take me to some private corner, cuddle me, and whisper her secrets to me. Perhaps it was time to take one of the risks I had to take with Shan. And perhaps it was time to make a complete fool of myself.

"You know," I said, "the more I'm around you, the more attractive you look."

There. Let her think about that one.

"How has your patrolling been?" I asked.

Shan was not to be deterred. "I'm only telling you what I've been told. It's how you appear to the other students. They say you swoop down on them with your cloaks billowing. Like two birds of prey."

"I'm just out for a walk, and I just explained that we're completely harmless," I protested again.

"Unless," I said in sudden inspiration, "you're Barbara or Shelly. Then you have to watch out for Draco. He'll snog the living daylights out of you."

I glanced to see if that got Shan's thinking on the right track. Forlorn hope.

"The students say there's no way to hide from you. You always find them," said Shan.

"Don't the Prefects know all the best spots?" I said, hoping Shan would pick up on the suggestion.

"No one can tell where you'll appear next, or when," said Shan, still trying to tell Hermann how other students saw him. "You're like two phantoms of the night."

I gave up. On what thin gruel of romance did Shan subsist? It certainly didn't include any solace for a lonely wizard.

"Okay, okay," I confessed. "We use semi-random search patterns from game theory."

"You do what!" said Shan.

Then it hit me. All this interrogation. No private conversation. I wasn't here because Shan liked me. I was here to make some boyfriend jealous. I would have been angry if I hadn't been so devastated. Shan was taking advantage of the fact that I liked her. How could I get through the rest of this torture with minimum pain?

I said, "The person I should be talking to is Luna."

"Luna?" said Shan, stopping suddenly, sounding hurt. I would have felt badly about how hurt Shan sounded, except she had been using me.

"Of course," I said. "This is exactly the right stuff for Luna and her father. I can see the headlines now: 'Random Methods Stalk Hogwarts: Gamblers Ruin Snogging Enchanters.' There can even be some quotes. 'I thought I had infinite expectations,' said one disconsolate wizard, 'but I discovered I had a finite stopping time.' 'It was a very discontinuous transition,' agreed his pert and pretty companion, clutching a vial of potion."

"Oh," said Shan sounding relieved, "you were kidding. You're making one of your jokes."

Yeah, I thought, that's me, another joke. The pain was greatly diminished by keeping a vision of Luna in my head. Luna with her sweet smile, her bright eyes.

"This is a nice room," said Shan, taking me to a small room with windows.

"You can see the stars and moon from here, but it's raining tonight," she said.

I went to a window and looked at the dark and rainy landscape.

"Can I look, too?" asked Shan.

There were plenty of windows, but I moved so that she could join me. Easy girl, I thought, as she crowded in to look out the window. Her shoulder and hip were against me. It was impolite of me not to move and give her more room, but I didn't move. I wasn't thinking about the landscape anymore.

"I'm sorry it's raining," said Shan.

"I like rain," I said.

"Are you always so gloomy?" asked Shan, sadly, fixing me with her warm eyes.

Shan's warm eyes. She could look at me all day like that.

"It's not gloom," I said. "It's turbulence. Rain and storms are interesting."

"I can understand that," said Shan, placing her hand next to mind.

I slowly placed my hand on top of hers. Shan didn't move away. After a while we were holding hands. 'The pain, the calm, the astonishment,' as they say.

It was time to reconsider this Shan thing. Was Shan really using me to make some boyfriend jealous? Did Shan have to complete her duties first? Emotional needs came last. Thin gruel.

It was Shan who turned from the window, opened both our cloaks, and embraced me. I was thinking crazy stuff. I was thinking that beneath Shan's exterior calm was a raging pit of emotions. I was thinking that she might not show it but ice and steel Shan felt and loved very deeply. I was thinking that I would accept this. I was thinking I would take the risk and act as if this was true. Crazy stuff. I knew the unbearable pain that awaited me if she turned on me in anger at my unwanted attention.

"Hermann, you're still thinking. I can tell," said Shan. "Can't you ever stop? ... Can't I be first for you? ... For a while?"