My Lips Are Sealed

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Just before sunrise that next morning, when Draco woke up back in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, the blond boy's eyes darted instantly to his brother's bed. It was still empty, and had clearly not been slept in all night. Draco frowned. He knew that Aries had not been in bed when he himself had retired, and Draco had stayed up in the Common Room until midnight playing chess with Dean Thomas. This couldn't be good.

Draco slipped out of bed, splashed water on his face and quickly brushed his hair before throwing on some casual robes and running off to find his adoptive father. A thousand horrible scenarios flashed through his mind on the way. He knew his brother all too well, and suspected Aries of doing something rash. Draco wasn't sure which made him angrier: the fact that Aries might have got himself hurt or killed, or the fact that he hadn't invited Draco to go along with him.

The corridors of the castle were empty this early on a Sunday morning, and Draco made exceptionally good time - so good, in fact, that he had run past the painting of Athena before he had realized it was there. He backtracked a few steps, then uttered the password. The painting swung open.

Inside, curled up together on the sofa, lay Sirius and Aries. Neither one had even changed into their pajamas, and empty bottles of butterbeer sat on the coffee table in front of them. They didn't look particularly comfortable. Sirius's head lay on his left shoulder, his long hair hanging in front of his eyes, and Aries' face was squashed up against Sirius's chest. Sirius was drooling a bit. Draco thought about taking a photograph and sending it into Witch Weekly, but that would have been unnecessarily cruel. He decided instead simply to take one and send it to his mum. He thought she might appreciate it.

He retrieved his dad's camera from the desk and took several pictures in rapid succession. He took out the film and slipped it into his pocket, then quietly left the room. There were countless other pranks he could have played on them, of course, but Draco thought it a shame to disturb them. Squashed and drooling as they were, it was still a cute father-and-son scene, so Draco thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Once he had deposited the film back in his trunk – he would have the photographs developed later – Draco went searching for something to do. No one else in Gryffindor Tower was awake. (Daring and chivalry, for some odd reason, seemed not often to correspond with promptness in waking, especially on the weekend.) Draco left the Tower and made his way to Professor Lupin's quarters. Remus Lupin was another early riser, and Draco thought he might share an early breakfast with the Transfiguration master before the others woke up.

He gave the password and made his way into the professor's quarters, only to find the werewolf snoring loudly. Remus, at least, had made it into his bed, but he had also fallen asleep fully dressed. He was even wearing his boots. Draco frowned as he left Remus's quarters and headed downstairs to the Great Hall. Something very strange was going on, and Draco had the unpleasant sense that his family had been on some adventure or another the night before, and he alone had been left out.

The Great Hall was empty except for one first-year girl at the Slytherin table who was eating a buttered croissant and sipping a cup of cocoa. Draco smiled when he saw her: it was Astoria Greengrass. Draco sat down across from the younger girl. She didn't notice him, being still very interested in her croissant. "Good morning, Astoria," Draco said, and smiled when she jumped in surprise. "Draco!" she exclaimed, then turned a delicate shade of rose. "Do you mind if I join you for breakfast?" Draco asked. Astoria's eyes went wide. "A-aren't you supposed to be sitting with your Housemates?" she stammered.

Draco chuckled and waved one arm at the empty hall. "There's no one else here, Astoria," he pointed out. "And it's much more pleasant to eat in the presence of pleasant company, wouldn't you agree?" The girl nodded meekly, a bit overwhelmed at having such a wealthy third-year Gryffindor speaking to her, not to mention the fact that said third-year was the adopted son of the infamous Sirius Black, who for all that he was supposedly innocent and now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, still managed to inspire fear in the hearts of many of his pupils, especially the Slytherins.

As soon as Draco had sat down at the table, additional trays appeared. Astoria Greengrass might have been satisfied with a bit of pastry, but Draco preferred a substantial breakfast, and evidently the elves knew this. Draco piled his plate high with bacon and eggs, along with a couple of pieces of hot buttered toast spread thickly with marmalade, and put three heaping teaspoons of sugar into his very strong tea.

Astoria watched him with an admixture of horror and fascination. "How can you eat all that?" she asked him. "Mummy says that one ought always to watch what one eats very carefully, lest one lose one's girlish figure and not be able to wear fashionable dress robes." Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm a boy," he replied, as though that settled everything. Astoria nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that does make some sense. Mummy makes Daddy eat exactly what we do when he eats at home, but he often chooses to dine at his club, and I know that there he eats whatever he likes."

"And how often does he dine at the club?" Draco asked. "Five or six nights a week," Astoria replied nonchalantly, then took another dainty nibble of her croissant. Draco laughed. Astoria looked surprised at first, but then she smiled a bit. "I suppose it is rather amusing," she admitted. She took a sip of tea, then fixed Draco in her sights. She leaned forward over the table. "Tell me, Draco," she whispered, glancing back and forth to make sure they were still quite alone. "Do you happen to know anything about...cooking?"

Draco laughed again, and began to regale the girl with stories of Granny Black and her kitchen of wonders. Astoria listened with wide-eyed amazement, her croissant forgotten. "Perhaps this summer you and your sister could come stay with us at the chateau," Draco suggested. "Granny loves to play hostess, and I think Aries would be particularly delighted to have Daphne visit." He leaned forward confidentially, until their foreheads were almost touching. "I think he fancies her," he said quietly, and Astoria giggled. "Do you really think so?" she asked. Draco nodded confidently. "I'm pretty sure about it," he replied. "But don't say anything. I don't think even Aries has realized it yet." "My lips are sealed," Astoria promised.

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