Slytherins, Kisses and Other Disasters
Copyright© 2026 by Caroline Stanton
Chapter 57: Fourteen Days
Draconia Malfoy had never considered herself an impatient person. She had been raised to understand that certain things required time. Good manners, proper education, a suitable marriage, and the gradual acquisition of the influence appropriate to the Malfoy name were not matters to be rushed. Unfortunately, none of those lessons had prepared her for the peculiar agony of waiting fourteen days to see a boy. Fourteen days. Two entire weeks.
Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Not that she had counted. Well, not precisely. She had merely become unusually aware of the calendar. And of her telephone. And of the fact that a certain seventeen-year-old Muggle boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes was waiting somewhere beyond Hogwarts, blissfully unaware that he had reduced the daughter of Lucius Malfoy to checking her messages between classes.
The telephone had become an indispensable part of her life. It was a small black Motorola StarTAC, which Professor Flitwick had modified to work inside Hogwarts. Draconia had quickly mastered the business of opening it, answering calls, and composing text messages using the numerical keypad. The last activity required considerably more patience than she had expected. Alex, however, was worth the inconvenience.
They spoke whenever circumstances permitted, usually in the evenings. Draconia had discovered that a quiet corner of an unused classroom offered more privacy than the Slytherin common room, where Victoria and Georgina possessed an almost supernatural ability to appear whenever she was speaking to him. Their conversations were often delightfully ordinary.
Alex told her about school, his friends, his part-time work, and his plans to save enough money for driving lessons when he turned eighteen. Draconia told him about her classes, carefully avoiding subjects such as Transfiguration, Potions, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. She had become remarkably skilled at describing Hogwarts without describing Hogwarts. Professor Snape became a particularly unpleasant chemistry teacher.
Professor McGonagall was a very strict deputy headmistress. And the Hogwarts Dance Club was simply a group of students who had started getting together to listen to music. That last explanation, at least, was almost entirely truthful. Alex had laughed when she told him about it.
“So you’ve started a disco?”
“Not personally.”
“But your friends did?”
“More or less.”
“Sounds brilliant.”
Draconia had smiled.
“It is rather fun.”
“Do you dance?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll have to see that someday.”
She had felt her cheeks grow warm.
“I suppose you will.”
On Thursday evening, her telephone rang. Draconia was sitting on her bed, reading a book she had already failed to concentrate on for twenty minutes. She opened the phone immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Draco.”
“Hello, Alex.”
“How’s my favourite Scottish boarding-school girl?”
“Your favourite?”
“Absolutely.”
“How many others do you know?”
“None.”
“Then I’m not terribly impressed.”
He laughed.
“I’ll have to work on that.”
She settled back against her pillows.
“How was your day?”
“Not bad. Had a test this morning. Think I survived.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Listen, I’ve been thinking.”
Draconia’s heart gave an unexpected little jump.
“About what?”
“Saturday.”
She sat upright.
“Saturday?”
“It’s been nearly two weeks since we went out.”
“I know.”
She answered a little too quickly. Alex laughed softly.
“You’ve been counting?”
“Certainly not.”
“Right.”
“I merely remember the date.”
“Of course.”
Draconia smiled despite herself. He continued.
“Anyway, I was wondering whether you’d like to go out again.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. There it was. The invitation she had been hoping for.
“I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Brilliant.”
She heard the smile in his voice.
“Have you got something planned?” she asked.
“Actually, yes.”
“What?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Alex.”
“Draco.”
“I dislike surprises.”
“Do you?”
“Very much.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Alex!”
“All right, I’ll give you a clue.”
“I’m listening.”
“Comfortable shoes.”
Draconia frowned.
“Comfortable shoes?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ll be walking a bit.”
She considered.
“How much is a bit?”
“Nothing terrible. I promise.”
“Are we going hiking?”
“Not this time.”
“Camping?”
“Definitely not. I wouldn’t spring that on you.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
“And bring a jacket. It might be chilly.”
Draconia looked towards her wardrobe.
“Anything else?”
“Just yourself.”
She went quiet. Alex noticed.
“Draco?”
“Yes?”
“You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I was worried I’d said something wrong.”
“No,” she replied softly. “Quite the opposite.”
The following morning, Victoria Crabbe discovered Draconia standing in front of her wardrobe. Three outfits lay across the bed. A fourth was hanging from the wardrobe door. Draconia was holding two jumpers and looking profoundly dissatisfied with both. Victoria stopped.
“Oh.”
Draconia looked around.
“What?”
Victoria smiled slowly.
“Oh, this is going to be good.”
“Vic.”
“Second date?”
Draconia sighed.
“Yes.”
Victoria gave a delighted squeal.
“Georgina!”
“Don’t you dare—”
Too late. Georgina appeared in the doorway.
“What?”
Victoria pointed.
“Alex. Saturday. Second date.”
Georgina’s face lit up.
“Oh, Draco!”
Within moments, both girls were examining the clothes. Draconia folded her arms.
“I am perfectly capable of dressing myself.”
“Of course you are,” Georgina replied.
Victoria held up a dark green jumper.
“But this one makes your eyes look lovely.”
“My eyes are grey.”
“Exactly. Lovely.”
Georgina examined a pair of black trousers.
“These are nice.”
Draconia hesitated.
“Too ordinary?”
Victoria stared at her.
“Draco, you’re going on a date, not attending a Malfoy family reception.”
“That’s precisely why I’m asking.”
“Then ordinary is good.”
Draconia considered. Alex had liked her in the miniskirt and cream jumper she’d worn on their first date. But she didn’t want to look as though she’d spent hours trying to impress him. Even though she had. Or would. Probably. She sighed.
“This is ridiculous.”
Victoria grinned.
“Welcome to having a boyfriend.”
They found Hermione after lunch. She was in the library, surrounded by books and looking as though she intended to remain there until Christmas. Victoria approached her table.
“Hermione.”
Hermione looked up.
“Yes?”
“We need you.”
Hermione glanced at the books.
“Is it urgent?”
“Extremely.”
“What’s happened?”
“Draco has a second date.”
Hermione stared at her. Then smiled.
“Oh!”
Draconia, standing behind Victoria, sighed.
“Apparently this constitutes a national emergency.”
“When?”
“Saturday.”
“Wonderful!”
She closed her book.
“Where are you going?”
“Alex won’t tell me.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“A surprise?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, that’s rather romantic.”
Draconia gave her a look.
“He’s instructed me to wear comfortable shoes.”
Hermione considered.
“That sounds sensible.”
“And a jacket.”
“Also sensible.”
“And he refuses to tell me where we’re going.”
“Then perhaps you should trust him.”
Draconia hesitated. She thought about Alex holding her hand in the shopping centre, asking whether she was comfortable, lending her his jacket, and kissing her goodbye beside the fountain.
“I do trust him,” she said quietly.
Hermione’s expression softened.
“Then you’ll be fine.”
There remained one rather important obstacle. Permission. Draconia had been allowed to leave Hogwarts on her previous outing, but that did not mean she could simply disappear whenever she pleased. On Friday afternoon, she knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door.
“Enter.”
Draconia stepped inside.
“Good afternoon, Professor.”
McGonagall looked up from her paperwork.
“Miss Malfoy.”
“I’d like to request permission to leave school tomorrow.”
McGonagall removed her spectacles.
“Again?”
Draconia straightened.
“Yes, Professor.”
“May I ask why?”
Draconia hesitated. She had prepared several explanations. Shopping. Personal errands. A visit to the town. None was entirely satisfactory. Finally, she decided that honesty, within reasonable limits, might be the better approach.
“I’ve been invited out.”
McGonagall regarded her.
“By the same young man?”
Draconia blinked.
“You know?”
McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
“Miss Malfoy, I am not entirely oblivious to what happens in my school.”
Draconia coloured.
“Of course, Professor.”
“Is this young man trustworthy?”
Draconia nodded immediately.
“Yes.”
“Does he know where you attend school?”
“He knows it’s a boarding school in Scotland.”
“And nothing more?”
“No, Professor.”
“Good.”
Draconia clasped her hands behind her back.
“May I go?”
“Where does he intend to take you?”
“He won’t tell me.”
McGonagall’s eyebrows rose.
“A surprise?”
“Apparently.”
“How charming.”
Draconia looked faintly distressed.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
For the briefest moment, McGonagall smiled. Then she became serious.
“You understand the conditions?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“No magic in front of Muggles. No disclosure of the school. No unnecessary risks. You must return at the agreed time.”
“Of course.”
“And you will use the authorised Portkey. I do not wish to hear of any improvised transportation arrangements.”
“Understood.”
McGonagall studied her for another moment. Then she reached for a sheet of parchment.
“Very well. Permission granted.”
Draconia’s face brightened.
“Thank you, Professor!”
“Miss Malfoy.”
She stopped.
“Yes?”
McGonagall looked at her over her spectacles.
“Enjoy yourself.”
Draconia smiled.
“I intend to.”
Saturday morning arrived with pale sunshine and a cold autumn breeze. Draconia stood before the mirror in the unused classroom where Hermione had once helped prepare her for her first date. This time, there were fewer clothes scattered about. And less panic. She wore fitted dark trousers, a soft cream jumper, comfortable ankle boots, and a short dark jacket. Her blonde hair fell loose over her shoulders, brushed until it shone.
Victoria stood behind her, examining the result.
“Perfect.”
Georgina nodded.
“Absolutely.”
Hermione adjusted the collar of Draconia’s jacket.
“There.”
Draconia looked at herself.
“Do I look all right?”
Victoria stared.
“Draco.”
“What?”
“You look beautiful.”
Georgina smiled.
“Alex is going to be very pleased.”
Draconia blushed. Hermione stepped back.
“One thing.”
Draconia looked at her.
“Yes?”
“Don’t spend the whole afternoon wondering whether you’re doing everything correctly.”
Draconia sighed.
“I know.”
“Just enjoy being with him.”
She nodded.
“I will.”
Victoria grinned.
“And kiss him for us.”
“Victoria!”
“What?”
Georgina burst out laughing. Draconia shook her head.
“I cannot believe I call you my friends.”
Victoria hugged her.
“Too late to change your mind.”
A few minutes later, Draconia stood alone near the designated Portkey departure point. She checked her watch. Then her phone. A message from Alex had arrived. Morning, beautiful. See you soon. Looking forward to today. Draconia read it twice. Then typed her reply, slowly and carefully. So am I. Don’t be late. His answer came almost immediately. Wouldn’t dream of it. She smiled. The Portkey activated. And Draconia Malfoy vanished from Hogwarts.
Alex was waiting near the shopping centre entrance in jeans, a dark jacket, and trainers. His untidy brown hair made Draconia smile. She watched him for a moment before approaching.
And somehow, the person she most wanted to see. She approached.
“Alex.”
He turned. His face lit up.
“Draco!”
He crossed the distance between them in a few quick steps. Then he stopped, smiling.
“Hi.”
She smiled back.
“Hello.”
Neither moved. Then Alex opened his arms slightly. Draconia stepped into them. He hugged her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. It was such a simple thing. A hug. Yet after two weeks of telephone calls and messages, it felt extraordinary. Alex held her for several seconds. Then he leaned back.
“I’ve missed you.”
Draconia looked up.
“I’ve missed you too.”
He smiled.
“Can I kiss you?”
She laughed softly.
“Alex, you don’t have to ask every time.”
“Good.”
He leaned down and kissed her. It was gentle and unhurried. When they separated, Draconia was smiling.
“Hello again,” she whispered.
Alex grinned.
“Hello again.”
He took her hand.
“Ready?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
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