fic: the fine art of point deduction
Title the fine art of point deduction
Authors capitol_barbie and el_em_en_oh_pee
Paring, characters Ernie Macmillan/Tracey Davis, Alecto Carrow
Wordcount ~6,500
Rating PG-13ish
Warnings Depictions of torture
Summary After a chance (after-curfew) encounter, Ernie learns more about house points than he ever really wanted to know.
Prompt: Ernie Macmillan, seeds of contention
Authors Notes sorry that this is late! Ernie was written mostly by capitol_barbie, and Tracey by el_em_en_oh_pee. :D
Ernie Macmillan had just left the stairs leading up to Astronomy Tower with his friends when he realised he forgotten one of his textbooks up there next to his telescope. He told his housemates to go ahead back to Hufflepuff, knowing that as Head Boy he would have less of a chance of getting tortured until the point of death by the Carrows if they found him. Ernie quickly dashed back up the tower, trying to be as quiet as possible while still dashing, and grabbed his book.
He nearly flew down the stairs and down the corridor, heading for the staircase that would take him down to the ground floor, but didn't quite have enough presence of mind to avoid the trick step halfway down the flight of stairs as he usually did. Ernie swore under his breath as he felt the step give way below his feet, then glanced around in a panic (he suddenly thought that it would be quite possible and probable for the Carrows or one of their supporters to be lurking around; Ernie really wasn't that stealthy).
Ernie had been trying to wrench himself quietly out of the step when he suddenly heard someone fall into the step right next to him. His hand flew to his back pocket and pulled out his wand before pointing it threateningly at the stranger. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice quiet yet firm. "I'm Head Boy, I'll give you detention for sneaking about in the middle of the night."
Tracey Davis had been sneaking down to the Slytherin dorm as quickly and quietly as she could after a run-in with Ms. Norris right outside the kitchens, when she realised (a moment too late) that she was on the trick-step staircase (there was a more logical way to go), and that her foot was caught in the trick step. "I don't think you're in much of a position to give detentions," Tracey said, distinctly not telling her name (it gave her one up on him: she knew that Ernie Macmillan was Head Boy, and doubted very much that he could tell who she was in the dark). "It seems that, actually, you're in the same position as I am."
"Lumos," Ernie muttered, then smirked at her once his trick-step-mate was illuminated. The girl in front of him was very familiar; she was likely in a few of his N.E.W.T. levels, perhaps Potions. He was quite sure that she was in Slytherin but couldn't remember her name. "What are you doing out right now?" he then said authoritatively, puffing his chest out a bit.
"Being stuck in a staircase," Tracey said. "Obviously."
"Before that," Ernie said, scoffing a bit. "I don't expect you broke curfew for the sole purpose of getting trapped in this damned staircase."
"Of course I did," Tracey said. "It's all the rage in my house."
Ernie's eyes flicked down to her school robes. "Twenty points from Slytherin due to a combination of unnecessary disrespect and sheer rulebreaking," he announced.
"The Carrows will be especially pleased to hear this," Tracey said, offhandedly, though secretly she didn't like them at all.
Ernie grimaced at the mention of their names. "I'm sure they will," he said, rather insouciantly. "They can go sod off."
"Should I report this unnecessary disrespect to them?" Tracey said. She was fully intent on getting her points back.
"You can if you'd like," Ernie said with a careless shrug, though he was privately chastising himself for letting that slip out of his mouth. "I expect they've been waiting to torture me for ages, they keep trying to catch me lecturing the younger years about them."
"In fact, it's probably not a good idea to take any points off of Slytherin at all, these days," Tracey mused. Then: "wait, what?"
Ernie looked levelly at her (or rather, as level as he could considering the height difference). "They don't like me."
"Is that so," Tracey said, putting on very pensive airs. "Good to know."
"I've been anticipating it for a while, actually, ever since I heard that rumour," Ernie told her, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. "It's a pity they're so crap at everything they do, otherwise I could've gotten it over with."
"Shall I tell them what you're saying now?" Tracey mused. "Maybe a recording spell would be in order..."
Ernie was having a hard time stopping all of his blustering and bravado. "Sure, do it," he said, daring her with his eyes.
"Okay, I will," Tracey said, staring at him, hoping he'd cave very soon. "I'll call them right now."
"Are you going to stay in the step and watch?" Ernie countered, feeling suddenly as though he were in a high-stakes poker game. "Might be good training for when you join up."
Tracey was moderately sickened. Join, and potentially die? Better she make potions in the background for the highest bidder. But Macmillan didn't have to know. "Maybe it will be."
Ernie twirled his wand in his fingers, randomly casting light around them. "What are you waiting for?"
"I'm not waiting," Tracey said. "I'm preparing myself for the magnificence of their presence."
"At least tell me who's going to be witnessing the taking of my torture virginity," Ernie remarked with false breeziness.
"Me, of course," Tracey said. "The Carrows. Whoever else comes up out of the dungeons to see."
"What is your name, I meant," Ernie said, frustration evident in his voice.
"Oh, that," Tracey said. "I don't think I want to tell you."
Ernie held his wand up to better scrutinise her face. "You look about my age," he said, thinking aloud. "I'm quite sure you're in my Potions lessons- Davis, you're Davis."
Tracey raised an eyebrow. "Actually I'm Pansy on Polyjuice," she said, because Pansy had been the one to dare her to go up to the kitchens, subsequently getting her into this mess.
"Even better," Ernie said, rolling his eyes. "Ten more points for the illegal use of Polyjuice."
"Shut up," Tracey said, suddenly growing nervous (because in actuality, the Carrows would probably torture her for losing the points, and from the Hufflepuff Head Boy, too!).
Ernie smiled smugly at her. "Get the Carrows, then, I'll likely shut up for a bit while they do their business."
Tracey stalled. "Just give me my points back and no one has to be called."
"And how am I supposed to know that you'll keep your word?" Ernie asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Contrary to popular belief," Tracey said. "A lot of Slytherins don't actually lie."
Ernie remained steadfastly unconvinced. "Even when it'll serve you to do so?"
Tracey considered. "Depends on the occasion," she admitted. "This is not the occasion."
"You mean that watching my getting tortured wouldn't serve you?" Ernie was being very cautious.
"Not particularly," Tracey said, cautiously.
"I believe we're at a standstill, then," Ernie said, eyeing her suspiciously once more.
"It appears so," Tracey said.
"I'll take the last ten off if you tell me what you were doing," Ernie told her earnestly.
"I was in the kitchens," Tracey said. "Because I was rather hungry." (she of course did not mention that she was there on a dare).
Ernie waved his wand in the air a bit flamboyantly. "All right, I put the ten back. Unfortunately, though, I had to take them away again for trespassing into the kitchens." He flashed her a smug smile.
"Put them back," Tracey said. "All of them. Or I call the Carrows."
"House points shouldn't matter so much to you," Ernie said, his tone firm. "They only serve to breed competition between us and our peers, which doesn't do much for house unity."
"House unity, schmouse unity," Tracey said. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's really not what people need to be focusing on this year."
"Yes it is," Ernie said, gesturing violently with his free hand. "The Sorting Hat warned us two years ago! We've got to unite in order to stop- him."
Tracey looked all around, and listened intently for anyone who might be near for a moment before hissing: "he's already here! The least you can do is stop him from punishing his favorites for not being perfect!"
Ernie blinked at her; the hand that had just been violently gesturing dropped down to his side. "What are you going on about?"
Tracey had been prepared to rant at him, for as long as necessary, until he gave her her points back, but she suddenly realised that this might not be the best thing to do, all things considered. "I shouldn't say."
"I'll put the points back if you do," Ernie offered. "Really this time."
"We Slytherins are held to a certain standard of perfection," Tracey said, tersely (Oh! the things she did for her house!). "God forbid we don't meet it constantly."
Ernie furrowed his brow slightly, thinking over her vague statements. He nodded a little, looking at her intently. "All right. What's this got to do with punishment?" He had a suspicion, but wanted to see if she'd say it without him having to guess.
"I really shouldn't say," Tracey said, "but if I were forced to, I would tell you something along the lines of there being harsh consequences for our mistakes."
Ernie, to his credit, looked rather concerned. He had been so worried about his friends and housemates that he hadn't considered the possibility that perhaps the Slytherins were also not doing so well. "Er- have you been. Consequenced?"
"...once or twice," Tracey said evasively, meaning something more along the lines of 'fourteen times'.
Ernie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, studying her again. "Really?"
Tracey bit her lip and nodded, once.
"Well- that's what you get for breaking the rules," Ernie said, though his voice was shaking a little.
"That's what I get for Vincent breaking the rules and Blaise breaking the rules," Tracey snapped. "And that's what everyone's going to get for me getting stuck on a stupid staircase that I usually know better than to go near. That's what Daphne and Millicent and Theodore are going to get for Pansy's stupid dare and fucking Mrs. Norris. And you and your stupid rules," she added as an afterthought.
Ernie's initial reaction during her rant was to step backwards, and to his surprise found that doing so removed him from the catch (he was now standing on the lower step, right below the one with the trick). He glanced down in shock, then looked back up at Tracey. "Pansy fucked Mrs. Norris?" he asked in a feeble attempt to lighten the situation.
Quite to Tracey's indignation, she started to cry. "No," she said. "How the fuck did you get out?"
"I don't know how I did it," Ernie said, bewildered by her tears. He stuffed his wand into his pocket and leapt up to the step above the trick, then held his arms out to her. "I'll try to pull you out," he offered, feeling guilty for making her cry (although he didn't know for sure if he had been the cause of her tears, he still felt a bit horrible).
Tracey was tempted to say, 'I can do it myself', but she knew she probably really couldn't. "Okay."
Ernie bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around her, and then attempted to hoist her out of the trick step. While he was tugging, one of Tracey's arms slipped, and she half-fell forward into the step. His grip on her hand was rather tight; because of this he found himself falling forwards down a flight of stairs, his mind shouted frantically (That's what you get for trying to help a Slytherin!). He landed nearly on top of Tracey.
"Ow," Tracey said, mildly. "Hi."
"Hi," Ernie replied, blushing furiously. The light from his wand was now rather dim, as it was emanating from inside his school robes, and while he was very much aware of the fact that he was on Tracey Davis and that this was highly inappropriate, he had smacked his head on the stair above the one they were now awkwardly lying on. Ernie felt a bit woozy.
He wasn't getting off of her. Why wasn't he getting off of her? This was distinctly awkward. "Hi," Tracey said again. "Um. Are you okay?"
"I hit my head," Ernie mumbled, trying to push himself up. Unfortunately for him, though, the move ended up shifting him off- balance and he tumbled down a few more stairs to the bottom of the intermediate landing before the stairs turned 180 degrees.
"Are you okay!" Tracey called, struggling to get out of the trick step.
Ernie had hit the back of his head against the wall and he was struggling to fight the tears that were forming rather quickly in his eyes. "No," he managed. "I mean. Yes." He was wondering simultaneously how no one had found them after all the racket they were causing.
Tracey, still struggling, managed to propel herself out of the trick step, somehow. Unfortunately, she landed right on top of Ernie. "Sorry," she groaned.
"Hi," Ernie said, uncomfortably, after he had gotten over the shock of having her land on top of him.
"Sorry," she whispered, trying to push herself off of him.
"My head hurts," Ernie whinged, pouting dramatically. He fished his still-lit wand out of his pocket, holding it out to her. "Can you check to make sure I'm not bleeding?"
Tracey knelt over his chest, holding Ernie's wand close to his scalp and examining. "Lift your head up so I can see the back," she commanded after thorough inspection. "It looks like you'll pull through in the end."
"Thanks," Ernie said, swallowing heavily. He held his hand out for his wand. "I'll put the points back, I promise."
Tracey sighed, suddenly relieved. "Thank you," she said. "Um. You have a knot forming on the back of your head."
Ernie sighed as well, running a hand through his hair to feel the knot. "It'll go away eventually."
"Sit up," Tracey said. "Let me see what I can do."
He obeyed, looking over at her apprehensively. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"Hypothetically," said Tracey. "It works on my brother, I think."
"Right," Ernie said, glancing over at her again.
"I can't be positive that it doesn't cause lasting mental damage," Tracey admitted. "Because he's rather stupid."
Ernie pushed himself away from her, looking incredibly alarmed. "I'll just go to Madam Pomfrey in the morning, thanks," he told her, holding his hands up.
Tracey blinked. "I was kidding, you know," she said, and then, darkly: "such spells are a necessity in the Slytherin common room."
Ernie shook his head, wincing slightly at the dull pain, then tried to change the topic. "Are you all right now? You know, now that you're, er. Free."
"Yeah," Tracey said. "Thanks."
"All right." The wand-light was dimmed again and he could barely make her out next to him, but he was suddenly very aware of how much noise they had been making so he tried to lean closer to her in order to whisper: "You should go back to Slytherin now, Davis."
"Okay," Tracey replied. "Go back to Hufflepuff."
"I will," he replied. "30 points to Slytherin."
Tracey blinked. "Thank you," she whispered again, patting him awkwardly on one arm before turning to dash to Slytherin.
Ernie stood up, watching her go, before turning around to go back to Hufflepuff. He'd made it up past the trick stair when Alecto Carrow appeared at the top of the stairwell. "What's this?" she asked, tapping her (ugly, pointed) foot.
Ernie froze. Alecto Carrow beckoned.
He followed her into a small room in the dungeons, and stood resigned as she took out her wand and polished it, fondly. He stood resigned as she pointed it at him. He stood resigned as she told him "the more noise you make, the longer this will last."
And then he collapsed into the snapping red blast of light that came from her wand as she cast Crucio.
The pain of it made him start to shake violently, his eyes squeezed shut (it somehow hurt more looking at the red light-- or was it that he couldn't bear even the little energy it took to keep them open still?). He bit hard on the inside of his mouth, desperately trying not to cry out, and it seemed like nearly half an hour had passed before it stopped.
He looked up at her then, breathing heavily, then adjusted the badge on his robes and smiled a bit in fake bravado. "You know, Snape did pick me to be Head Boy still after all- and I'm a Pureblood," he reminded her, wondering how badly the next round would hurt. "I hear you don't like to spill our blood."
Carrow raised her eyebrows down at him, visibly nonplussed (though inwardly she was full of loathing for the arrogant bastard), then took up her wand again.
He was right- it was much worse this time and he knew he had deserved it for talking to her like that, but he couldn't have just sat and taken it without saying something- then it would all be for nothing, wouldn't it have been, all the D.A. lessons and the fighting that had already occurred so far this year under their noses. He managed to roll a bit on the floor, trying to protect his stomach (though he couldn't bear to do it, he still took notes in Dark Arts classes just out of habit, so he knew that when one had their wand at the most vulnerable areas on the body, it hurt about twice as much as when one was aiming for just a limb).
It seemed, though, that his words had actually gotten to her, as the second round turned out to be the final round, and much shorter than one that had preluded it. "Get up, Hufflepuff," Carrow sneered, then waved him away with her hand. "How very hypocritical for Mr. Head Boy to be breaking the rules he works so hard to uphold."
Ernie stared dumbly up at her, not quite knowing how to take this, then realised that she was actually letting him free. She looked like she had something else on her mind, though, so he pulled his wand out of his pocket. Carrow raised her eyebrows again, but he merely waved it in the air and said clearly, "One hundred points from Hufflepuff, right?"
He went, then, quickly, and shot a glance at her over his shoulder (one especially full of hatred), hoping she wouldn't curse him as he left. Fortunately, though, she didn't, and he made it back down to Hufflepuff without further incident. He didn't bother to take his robes and clothes off, though, just wanting so badly to be in bed that he was struck with an uncharacteristic and out-of-character laziness, and practically fell down on top of his blankets, a quiet sob escaping his throat once his head hit his pillow.
+++
Ernie sidled into Potions and took his usual seat, about five minutes before the class was scheduled to begin. He had gone to Madam Pomfrey before Potions and gotten all fixed up; Zacharias swore that he looked perfectly normal.
Tracey glanced up as Ernie entered the room and nodded, almost imperceptibly, before turning 'round and whispering to Theodore about their Arithmancy homework. He nodded back, just as slightly, and reviewed his notes before Slughorn announced that lessons were now beginning. Rather uncharacteristically of Ernie, though, he found himself not listening to a single thing Slughorn was saying. He had been dreading going to Potions, as he knew he would see Tracey there and that would just remind him of what had happened that night on the staircase. Suddenly, though, he caught his name and heard it followed by "partnered with Tracey Davis for this particular potion."
Tracey blinked when Slughorn assigned the groups for their potions. She excused herself from her conversation with Theodore with, "have fun with Corner," and gathered her things, moving over to where Ernie was. "Hello, Macmillan," she said, putting her stuff down. "I hope you know how to make this?" Under her breath, she whispered, "did everything turn out okay for you?"
Ernie opened his textbook to the correct page and leaned over the book, feigning great interest (though it really was a very fascinating potion). He shot her a sideways glance and whispered back, "More or less."
"Do you have the lacewings?" Tracey asked, muttering back, "more or less?"
Ernie rummaged through his kit and shook his head. "I'm a bit short- I've got a few here, but I don't expect they'll be enough." He then flushed slightly as he contemplated how to ask her real question, then whispered, "It wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be."
"What?!" Tracey exclaimed, and hastily amended: "But I don't have enough, either!" Quieter, she repeated, "what?"
Ernie straightened up a little in his seat and looked over at her pointedly. "Storeroom, then?"
"All right," Tracey said, leading the way. When they got in there, she turned on him. "What gives?"
"There's really not much to say," Ernie answered quietly, going over to the lacewings (he really didn't have much of them). "You left, the one who teaches Muggle Studies came and caught me and took me down to the dungeon."
Alecto. The worse of the two. "Oh my God," Tracey whispered, rummaging through the other ingredients they might need. "Are you... was it very bad?"
"It was all right," Ernie said, shrugging a little. He looked down quickly at the ground, though, once he realised that his voice had cracked slightly just thinking about it.
But it wasn't all right. "I shouldn't have left," Tracey fretted.
Ernie had predicted she would say something along those lines. "No," he said, more firmly than before, then walked over to where she was standing in the storeroom. "I'm glad you left- I hadn't had it before and- you were lucky."
"You shouldn't have had it!" Tracey whispered back, growing agitated. "They might've taken your Head Boy status away -- actually, they might yet -- and you can be almost certain that Blaise would get it, and that would not be good!" She had been jabbing her finger at him as she said this, pushing him backwards, and at that last, she had him against a wall. "I'm used to it, and I really don't have anything to lose if I'm caught breaking rules! You should've gone instead!"
Ernie hit the back of his head on the wall and suddenly got a tremendous sense of deja vu from their last encounter. "I couldn't have lived with myself if I had just let you get it," he hissed back, looking down at her. "I don't care about being Head Boy, it doesn't mean what I thought it would, not with them in charge! I have to enforce their rules and take points away for the dumbest things and people think I'm going to help them but I can't and I feel so guilty because I can't and." He trailed off for a moment. "I break the rules all the time now anyway."
"Better you than Blaise!" Tracey snapped at him. "He would go around torturing people without going to the Carrows! Your keeping Head Boy is important, like it or not!"
"They won't take it away from me," Ernie said confidently, though he was becoming less and less sure of this. "She told me- afterwards- and I took about a hundred points away from my house once it was done and she seemed to like that because I sort of had a feeling she would ask me to so I went ahead and did it anyway."
Tracey closed her eyes, speechless. Opened them again, and resumed sorting through vials.
"It's not like I really care about them," Ernie muttered, trying to fill up the awkward silence. "Like I told you. I just- everyone else cares and I feel bad, but I'm glad they didn't catch you."
"Thank you," Tracey said, sincerely, and, realising that she still had him against the wall, stepped back. "Truly."
"You're welcome," Ernie said, then smiled a little at her despite the circumstances.
Tracey smiled tentatively back. "So!" she said, after a moment of silence. "We should probably start on the potion now."
Ernie shrugged a little, glancing down at the lacewings. "I don't really want to. Is that bad?"
"Probably," Tracey said, wrinkling her nose.
"Let's not, then," Ernie deadpanned, though he was uncharacteristically serious.
Tracey bit her lip. "That would probably not end up well," she admitted. "Unless you have some sort of deal with Professor Slughorn."
"No, I haven't," Ernie said, then walked back over to the door of the storeroom. "Let's go, then."
Tracey picked up the lacewings and a vial of hippopotamus oil, which Ernie had left behind, and followed him out.
He sat down at his seat and got out his cauldron, glancing over at Tracey. Now that they were actually both well-lit (considering that it was daytime), he couldn't help but notice that she wasn't really that bad looking, better than Parkinson, at least.
Tracey glanced across at Ernie to see him looking at her. She half-smiled, mashing dandelion and clover root, and starting the flame under their cauldron.
"Pardon me," he said, and reached over for the jar of lacewings. He set to work, reading the instructions again carefully, and accidentally brushed her hand with his.
Tracey nodded, reaching for the shrivelfig, trying to ignore the fact that Ernie's hand brushed hers.
Ernie leaned over and whispered in her ear, "How does your head of house feel about the, er. You know. Does he condone it?"
"He doesn't really have that much choice," Tracey whispered back. "Pass the boomslang skin, please."
Ernie nodded a little, and then handed over the boomslang. "Does he do it? Was really what I was asking."
"No, he doesn't," Tracey said. "Somehow they don't make him." She started shredding the boomslang. "Wait, do we need this in the potion at all?"
"Yes," Ernie said, his tone patient. He pointed to his textbook and showed her the page.
"Oh, good." She continued shredding.
Ernie glanced up at the clock and was most disheartened to see that only about fifteen minutes had elapsed since the beginning of the period. He started on the first paragraph of instructions, adding the specified ingredients to the cauldron and stirring twice counterclockwise.
+++
Tracey followed Ernie as he left the room hastily. "Hey," she whispered at him, as he threatened to be lost in the mass of students winding away from the classroom. "Hey, come over here." She was gesturing towards an alcove, next to a rather ugly statue of a rather large wizard.
Ernie glanced over at her curiously, not quite sure what she wanted to talk to him about. Class had gone quite well in the end once he realised that they were fairly well matched in skill at the subject and were able to work together decently. He walked over with her to the alcove, then looked at her expectantly.
Tracey wasn't exactly sure why she had called him over. "Er," she said. "Um. Okay, so."
"Yes," Ernie said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Did you want to speak to me some more?"
"Yeah," Tracey said. "It's about... administration at this school."
"Oh, yeah?" Ernie looked at her intently, wondering why she was suddenly so tentative when earlier she had been rather vehement and intense with her feelings on this specific subject.
Tracey looked around again. "Only I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't have listening spells around here," she said. "Do you know of a place?"
Ernie immediately thought of the Room of Requirement, then decided that he couldn't dare risk telling Tracey about that. "No, I don't," he lied.
Tracey considered. It might be a risk, mentioning it to him, but he seemed like an okay guy. "Have you heard of the Come and Go Room?"
"Yes," Ernie said carefully, honestly a bit disturbed that she had mentioned it. "I've, er. Heard of it, but never quite found where it is."
Tracey nodded. "Um. Okay, then. I don't know."
"Right," Ernie said, then shrugged a little, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Tracey shook her head. "Never mind. Forget I mentioned anything." She shouldered her bag and made as if to leave.
"All right," Ernie said, entirely confused as to what exactly had just happened.
"All right," Tracey said, peevishly. "See you next Potions."
He nodded a little and gave her a small wave, then started walking away towards his House.
Tracey cursed herself, inwardly, and went on toward Charms.
When she got back into her common room later, she wrote Ernie a note, careful to make her handwriting as ambiguous as was possible. It contained secrets to distracting oneself from the Cruciatus when being tortured (pain would be the same, mind would be otherwise occupied -- it only sometimes worked, but was worth a shot) and, not signing it, sent it to him by way of illiterate first year hulk.
Ernie was rather frightened when a rather large first year came up to him in the Great Hall during dinner. He glanced down at the boy's Slytherin design on his robes and shot a quick glance over at Tracey when he thought no one was looking.
Tracey was shoving a rather large piece of chicken in her mouth (she had never quite managed the fine art of cutting her food into bite-sized pieces) when she noticed that Ernie had gotten her note. She almost choked, but manage to regain composure in time to smile serenely at no-one in particular (and Ernie in general) and focus intently on her peas, somewhat embarrassed. Ernie laughed a little, having completely witnessed the whole thing, and went back to his seat at the Hufflepuff table.
Tracey flushed, a little.
Pansy had apparently watched the whole thing shrewdly. "What's with you and that Macmillan guy?" she asked, eating a (perfectly cut) bit of her own chicken.
"Nothing," Tracey said. "We're just partnered up in Potions."
"Oh, I see," Pansy said. "So what was in the note, plans for a late-night rendezvous and under-the-sheets action?"
"We've already had our rendezvous," Tracey said. "It was a proposal for marriage." And she smiled serenely and took a sip of her blackcurrant juice, and winked at the just-returned first year (who promptly dropped his plate).
Ernie slipped the note into his pocket and decided to read it when he was away from Zacharias, who would probably want to read over his shoulder out of curiosity (Justin was an insatiably curious fellow and probably should have been in Ravenclaw; that or perhaps he was just a bit of a gossip).
Tracey didn't feel much for dessert, so she left the Great Hall early, and headed for the library.
Ernie had been shooting glances over at Tracey throughout the rest of the meal so when he saw her get up he was half-tempted to follow her, but then decided that that might seem a bit suspicious (and besides, even if he left a few minutes later, how on earth was he to know where she was going?). So he didn't. It wasn't like he really wanted to talk to her anyway, she was just rather intriguing.
Tracey settled down to do some intensive research for Transfigurations (Such a horrid class!) in her favourite corner in the library. She snuck a sugar quill out of her bag, and sucked on it, trying to make heads or tails of the theory she'd need for NEWTs.
Ernie went to the library after dinner as usual and nearly walked past her before noticing who it was. He cleared his throat slightly and waited for her to look up from her book.
Tracey didn't hear anything, but she noticed that someone was standing next to her about a quarter of the way through the quill. "Oh, hi," she said, upon seeing Ernie.
"What are you working on?" Ernie asked, then took a seat next to her without being invited.
"Transfigurations," Tracey said, wrinkling her nose. "Honestly, give me fifteen Arithmancy equations and I can get them done in a heartbeat, but ask me about the theory behind Transfigurations, and." She shuddered.
"You're in my Arithmancy class too?" Ernie asked, leaning closer to her in order to see what she was looking at. "Oh, yes, this is a nasty chapter."
"Pretty much," Tracey agreed, underlining a section. "I'd almost rather take Care of Magical Creatures than learn this. Almost."
Ernie pulled a face just thinking about that class. "Don't ever say that."
Tracey sneered at him, though the effect was rather ruined by the bit of sugar quill caught on her lip. "Anyway so what are you doing here?"
"Revision," Ernie answered, thinking that was rather obvious. "You've got some quill on your lip, by the way."
"For what?" Tracey asked, licking her lips in order to get the offending bit off.
Ernie brought his gaze up to her eyes and swallowed slightly. "History of Magic," he answered after a moment.
"Ooh, History of Magic!" Tracey said, only somewhat sarcastically (and also completely oblivious to Ernie's reactions). "That has the potential to be really interesting."
"Shut up," Ernie answered instantly, and shot her a grin. "I really like it. I think it's a totally necessary subject- I wish more people were taking it, though, it's really awkward to have one-on-one classes with Binns."
"I would be taking it," Tracey admitted, "if it fit into my schedule."
"You're missing out," Ernie said, shrugging. He leaned back against his chair and yawned a bit. "Binns is a lovely fellow."
"Yes," Tracey said.
Ernie yawned again, covering his mouth politely. "Thanks for the note, by the way," he added after a moment. He had read it in the corridor on his way to the library.
Tracey nodded. "Absolutely no problem," she said, refocusing on her Transfigurations text and also her sugar quill (which teased the corner of her mouth when she focused extra-hard).
Ernie pulled out his own textbook (which was quite thick) and opened it to page 672 before glancing over at her again. "Tracey?"
"Mmm?" Tracey asked, underlining another section, and looked up. "Yes?"
"My head hurts still," he lied.
Tracey frowned. "I'm sorry," she said. "Would you like the spell?"
"Yeah, can you do it?" Ernie asked, then leaned closer to her again.
"Yeah," Tracey said, her mouth growing dry. She cleared her throat and whispered the spell.
Ernie waited for the cold feeling to leave before smiling a little at her. "Thanks," he said. "It feels a lot better" (which was another lie, seeing as his head sort of felt a bit strange now that it was a bit numb on just that one spot).
"I'm glad," Tracey said, turning to re-focus on her Transfigurations, touching the tip of her sugar quill to her tongue.
Ernie's gaze fell back down to her mouth and he swallowed. "Tracey?"
"Yeah?" Tracey said, accidentally swallowing part of her quill. She coughed. "What is it?"
"I think you're pretty," Ernie blurted. His eyes widened slightly in shock at the slip before he leaned in to kiss her (as though he was attempting to shut her up from asking anything about what he had just said).
Tracey barely had time to blink after Ernie's statement before he kissed her (and yet she still managed to get another blink in). She considered pushing him back and asking him exactly what it was that he thought he was doing, but there was also the factor of him being a decent kisser. "Conundrum," she thought, not realising that she actually said it aloud (while he was still kissing her).
"What on earth," Ernie said, partly in response to his actually kissing her and partly wondering what was that odd noise she had just made. He then pulled away, his eyes still wide.
"Exactly," Tracey said, and blinked, still not over the whole blinking thing.
"Yes," he said, then looked at her nervously. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Tracey considered, eating her sugar quill again. "No," she said, after great deliberation. "I really think it was all right."
Ernie smiled then, not realising he had been waiting nervously for her to say something along those lines for the past few seconds. "All right, then."
"All right, what?" Tracey asked, dismayed to find she only had about a quarter of her quill left. She decided to eat it all at once.
"I don't know," Ernie said with a shrug. "Let's just see what happens." And he looked down at his textbook again, a grin barely contained on his face.
Tracey half-smiled. "Okay," she said, reaching in her bag for another sugar quill and a scrap of parchment.
+++
Ernie was strolling down the corridors on his way to somewhere.
Pansy had accosted Tracey in the hall earlier that day. "There's something going on with you and that Macmillan boy," she'd said, accusingly.
Tracey had tried to deny it, but she hadn't listened. "Prove it," she'd said. "By tonight."
So now, Tracey was doing (rather good) impressions of Ernie in a rather unfavorable light, in the name of proving to Pansy that she wasn't with Ernie (thus sparing them both some rather unsavory attention from most of the rest of Slytherin house), making sure to focus on his penchant for deducting house points for minor infractions of the rules.
Tracey didn't seem to notice that Ernie had stumbled across her and Pansy. He watched her antics for a few minutes, feeling decidedly heartbroken, before straightening his Head Boy badge on his chest. "Davis, I suppose I'm going to predictable as always," he started, glancing over at Pansy with scorn before looking back over at Tracey.
"Ten points," Ernie said with a wave of his hand. "Go back to Slytherin now, both of you."
Tracey watched Pansy stalk off, looking vaguely reassured, but didn't move herself. "Ernie, I can explain," she said, very much regretting doing impressions in a public location.
"You don't have to," Ernie said, then walked back where he had come from.
But Tracey followed after him. "Ernie, she was suspicious."
"You don't have to explain anything to me," Ernie repeated, not looking over his shoulder at her.
"Ernie, I didn't mean it," Tracey said, beginning to feel hopeless and a little angry.
"How do I know you aren't lying?" He went round a corner and caught a glimpse of her as he did so.
"Because," Tracey said, "because I'm not!"
"If you really cared about what other people thought, you wouldn't be chasing me about Hogwarts making a scene- sort of undoes all your work trying to trick Parkinson, doesn't it?" Ernie snapped, finally turning around to face her.
"I'm not making a scene!" Tracey hissed. "No one else is around!" Which was true.
"I don't need this, Davis," Ernie said, then turned and walked away again.
"Alright, fine," Tracey snapped, but he was already out of earshot. She was okay with this. She really was. If Er- Macmillan was going to be that way, she would, too.
She stalked off to Slytherin, ruminating on (admittedly petty) ways to make him make a proper scene. Probably trick stairs should be involved.
Authors capitol_barbie and el_em_en_oh_pee
Paring, characters Ernie Macmillan/Tracey Davis, Alecto Carrow
Wordcount ~6,500
Rating PG-13ish
Warnings Depictions of torture
Summary After a chance (after-curfew) encounter, Ernie learns more about house points than he ever really wanted to know.
Prompt: Ernie Macmillan, seeds of contention
Authors Notes sorry that this is late! Ernie was written mostly by capitol_barbie, and Tracey by el_em_en_oh_pee. :D
Ernie Macmillan had just left the stairs leading up to Astronomy Tower with his friends when he realised he forgotten one of his textbooks up there next to his telescope. He told his housemates to go ahead back to Hufflepuff, knowing that as Head Boy he would have less of a chance of getting tortured until the point of death by the Carrows if they found him. Ernie quickly dashed back up the tower, trying to be as quiet as possible while still dashing, and grabbed his book.
He nearly flew down the stairs and down the corridor, heading for the staircase that would take him down to the ground floor, but didn't quite have enough presence of mind to avoid the trick step halfway down the flight of stairs as he usually did. Ernie swore under his breath as he felt the step give way below his feet, then glanced around in a panic (he suddenly thought that it would be quite possible and probable for the Carrows or one of their supporters to be lurking around; Ernie really wasn't that stealthy).
Ernie had been trying to wrench himself quietly out of the step when he suddenly heard someone fall into the step right next to him. His hand flew to his back pocket and pulled out his wand before pointing it threateningly at the stranger. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice quiet yet firm. "I'm Head Boy, I'll give you detention for sneaking about in the middle of the night."
Tracey Davis had been sneaking down to the Slytherin dorm as quickly and quietly as she could after a run-in with Ms. Norris right outside the kitchens, when she realised (a moment too late) that she was on the trick-step staircase (there was a more logical way to go), and that her foot was caught in the trick step. "I don't think you're in much of a position to give detentions," Tracey said, distinctly not telling her name (it gave her one up on him: she knew that Ernie Macmillan was Head Boy, and doubted very much that he could tell who she was in the dark). "It seems that, actually, you're in the same position as I am."
"Lumos," Ernie muttered, then smirked at her once his trick-step-mate was illuminated. The girl in front of him was very familiar; she was likely in a few of his N.E.W.T. levels, perhaps Potions. He was quite sure that she was in Slytherin but couldn't remember her name. "What are you doing out right now?" he then said authoritatively, puffing his chest out a bit.
"Being stuck in a staircase," Tracey said. "Obviously."
"Before that," Ernie said, scoffing a bit. "I don't expect you broke curfew for the sole purpose of getting trapped in this damned staircase."
"Of course I did," Tracey said. "It's all the rage in my house."
Ernie's eyes flicked down to her school robes. "Twenty points from Slytherin due to a combination of unnecessary disrespect and sheer rulebreaking," he announced.
"The Carrows will be especially pleased to hear this," Tracey said, offhandedly, though secretly she didn't like them at all.
Ernie grimaced at the mention of their names. "I'm sure they will," he said, rather insouciantly. "They can go sod off."
"Should I report this unnecessary disrespect to them?" Tracey said. She was fully intent on getting her points back.
"You can if you'd like," Ernie said with a careless shrug, though he was privately chastising himself for letting that slip out of his mouth. "I expect they've been waiting to torture me for ages, they keep trying to catch me lecturing the younger years about them."
"In fact, it's probably not a good idea to take any points off of Slytherin at all, these days," Tracey mused. Then: "wait, what?"
Ernie looked levelly at her (or rather, as level as he could considering the height difference). "They don't like me."
"Is that so," Tracey said, putting on very pensive airs. "Good to know."
"I've been anticipating it for a while, actually, ever since I heard that rumour," Ernie told her, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. "It's a pity they're so crap at everything they do, otherwise I could've gotten it over with."
"Shall I tell them what you're saying now?" Tracey mused. "Maybe a recording spell would be in order..."
Ernie was having a hard time stopping all of his blustering and bravado. "Sure, do it," he said, daring her with his eyes.
"Okay, I will," Tracey said, staring at him, hoping he'd cave very soon. "I'll call them right now."
"Are you going to stay in the step and watch?" Ernie countered, feeling suddenly as though he were in a high-stakes poker game. "Might be good training for when you join up."
Tracey was moderately sickened. Join, and potentially die? Better she make potions in the background for the highest bidder. But Macmillan didn't have to know. "Maybe it will be."
Ernie twirled his wand in his fingers, randomly casting light around them. "What are you waiting for?"
"I'm not waiting," Tracey said. "I'm preparing myself for the magnificence of their presence."
"At least tell me who's going to be witnessing the taking of my torture virginity," Ernie remarked with false breeziness.
"Me, of course," Tracey said. "The Carrows. Whoever else comes up out of the dungeons to see."
"What is your name, I meant," Ernie said, frustration evident in his voice.
"Oh, that," Tracey said. "I don't think I want to tell you."
Ernie held his wand up to better scrutinise her face. "You look about my age," he said, thinking aloud. "I'm quite sure you're in my Potions lessons- Davis, you're Davis."
Tracey raised an eyebrow. "Actually I'm Pansy on Polyjuice," she said, because Pansy had been the one to dare her to go up to the kitchens, subsequently getting her into this mess.
"Even better," Ernie said, rolling his eyes. "Ten more points for the illegal use of Polyjuice."
"Shut up," Tracey said, suddenly growing nervous (because in actuality, the Carrows would probably torture her for losing the points, and from the Hufflepuff Head Boy, too!).
Ernie smiled smugly at her. "Get the Carrows, then, I'll likely shut up for a bit while they do their business."
Tracey stalled. "Just give me my points back and no one has to be called."
"And how am I supposed to know that you'll keep your word?" Ernie asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Contrary to popular belief," Tracey said. "A lot of Slytherins don't actually lie."
Ernie remained steadfastly unconvinced. "Even when it'll serve you to do so?"
Tracey considered. "Depends on the occasion," she admitted. "This is not the occasion."
"You mean that watching my getting tortured wouldn't serve you?" Ernie was being very cautious.
"Not particularly," Tracey said, cautiously.
"I believe we're at a standstill, then," Ernie said, eyeing her suspiciously once more.
"It appears so," Tracey said.
"I'll take the last ten off if you tell me what you were doing," Ernie told her earnestly.
"I was in the kitchens," Tracey said. "Because I was rather hungry." (she of course did not mention that she was there on a dare).
Ernie waved his wand in the air a bit flamboyantly. "All right, I put the ten back. Unfortunately, though, I had to take them away again for trespassing into the kitchens." He flashed her a smug smile.
"Put them back," Tracey said. "All of them. Or I call the Carrows."
"House points shouldn't matter so much to you," Ernie said, his tone firm. "They only serve to breed competition between us and our peers, which doesn't do much for house unity."
"House unity, schmouse unity," Tracey said. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's really not what people need to be focusing on this year."
"Yes it is," Ernie said, gesturing violently with his free hand. "The Sorting Hat warned us two years ago! We've got to unite in order to stop- him."
Tracey looked all around, and listened intently for anyone who might be near for a moment before hissing: "he's already here! The least you can do is stop him from punishing his favorites for not being perfect!"
Ernie blinked at her; the hand that had just been violently gesturing dropped down to his side. "What are you going on about?"
Tracey had been prepared to rant at him, for as long as necessary, until he gave her her points back, but she suddenly realised that this might not be the best thing to do, all things considered. "I shouldn't say."
"I'll put the points back if you do," Ernie offered. "Really this time."
"We Slytherins are held to a certain standard of perfection," Tracey said, tersely (Oh! the things she did for her house!). "God forbid we don't meet it constantly."
Ernie furrowed his brow slightly, thinking over her vague statements. He nodded a little, looking at her intently. "All right. What's this got to do with punishment?" He had a suspicion, but wanted to see if she'd say it without him having to guess.
"I really shouldn't say," Tracey said, "but if I were forced to, I would tell you something along the lines of there being harsh consequences for our mistakes."
Ernie, to his credit, looked rather concerned. He had been so worried about his friends and housemates that he hadn't considered the possibility that perhaps the Slytherins were also not doing so well. "Er- have you been. Consequenced?"
"...once or twice," Tracey said evasively, meaning something more along the lines of 'fourteen times'.
Ernie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, studying her again. "Really?"
Tracey bit her lip and nodded, once.
"Well- that's what you get for breaking the rules," Ernie said, though his voice was shaking a little.
"That's what I get for Vincent breaking the rules and Blaise breaking the rules," Tracey snapped. "And that's what everyone's going to get for me getting stuck on a stupid staircase that I usually know better than to go near. That's what Daphne and Millicent and Theodore are going to get for Pansy's stupid dare and fucking Mrs. Norris. And you and your stupid rules," she added as an afterthought.
Ernie's initial reaction during her rant was to step backwards, and to his surprise found that doing so removed him from the catch (he was now standing on the lower step, right below the one with the trick). He glanced down in shock, then looked back up at Tracey. "Pansy fucked Mrs. Norris?" he asked in a feeble attempt to lighten the situation.
Quite to Tracey's indignation, she started to cry. "No," she said. "How the fuck did you get out?"
"I don't know how I did it," Ernie said, bewildered by her tears. He stuffed his wand into his pocket and leapt up to the step above the trick, then held his arms out to her. "I'll try to pull you out," he offered, feeling guilty for making her cry (although he didn't know for sure if he had been the cause of her tears, he still felt a bit horrible).
Tracey was tempted to say, 'I can do it myself', but she knew she probably really couldn't. "Okay."
Ernie bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around her, and then attempted to hoist her out of the trick step. While he was tugging, one of Tracey's arms slipped, and she half-fell forward into the step. His grip on her hand was rather tight; because of this he found himself falling forwards down a flight of stairs, his mind shouted frantically (That's what you get for trying to help a Slytherin!). He landed nearly on top of Tracey.
"Ow," Tracey said, mildly. "Hi."
"Hi," Ernie replied, blushing furiously. The light from his wand was now rather dim, as it was emanating from inside his school robes, and while he was very much aware of the fact that he was on Tracey Davis and that this was highly inappropriate, he had smacked his head on the stair above the one they were now awkwardly lying on. Ernie felt a bit woozy.
He wasn't getting off of her. Why wasn't he getting off of her? This was distinctly awkward. "Hi," Tracey said again. "Um. Are you okay?"
"I hit my head," Ernie mumbled, trying to push himself up. Unfortunately for him, though, the move ended up shifting him off- balance and he tumbled down a few more stairs to the bottom of the intermediate landing before the stairs turned 180 degrees.
"Are you okay!" Tracey called, struggling to get out of the trick step.
Ernie had hit the back of his head against the wall and he was struggling to fight the tears that were forming rather quickly in his eyes. "No," he managed. "I mean. Yes." He was wondering simultaneously how no one had found them after all the racket they were causing.
Tracey, still struggling, managed to propel herself out of the trick step, somehow. Unfortunately, she landed right on top of Ernie. "Sorry," she groaned.
"Hi," Ernie said, uncomfortably, after he had gotten over the shock of having her land on top of him.
"Sorry," she whispered, trying to push herself off of him.
"My head hurts," Ernie whinged, pouting dramatically. He fished his still-lit wand out of his pocket, holding it out to her. "Can you check to make sure I'm not bleeding?"
Tracey knelt over his chest, holding Ernie's wand close to his scalp and examining. "Lift your head up so I can see the back," she commanded after thorough inspection. "It looks like you'll pull through in the end."
"Thanks," Ernie said, swallowing heavily. He held his hand out for his wand. "I'll put the points back, I promise."
Tracey sighed, suddenly relieved. "Thank you," she said. "Um. You have a knot forming on the back of your head."
Ernie sighed as well, running a hand through his hair to feel the knot. "It'll go away eventually."
"Sit up," Tracey said. "Let me see what I can do."
He obeyed, looking over at her apprehensively. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"Hypothetically," said Tracey. "It works on my brother, I think."
"Right," Ernie said, glancing over at her again.
"I can't be positive that it doesn't cause lasting mental damage," Tracey admitted. "Because he's rather stupid."
Ernie pushed himself away from her, looking incredibly alarmed. "I'll just go to Madam Pomfrey in the morning, thanks," he told her, holding his hands up.
Tracey blinked. "I was kidding, you know," she said, and then, darkly: "such spells are a necessity in the Slytherin common room."
Ernie shook his head, wincing slightly at the dull pain, then tried to change the topic. "Are you all right now? You know, now that you're, er. Free."
"Yeah," Tracey said. "Thanks."
"All right." The wand-light was dimmed again and he could barely make her out next to him, but he was suddenly very aware of how much noise they had been making so he tried to lean closer to her in order to whisper: "You should go back to Slytherin now, Davis."
"Okay," Tracey replied. "Go back to Hufflepuff."
"I will," he replied. "30 points to Slytherin."
Tracey blinked. "Thank you," she whispered again, patting him awkwardly on one arm before turning to dash to Slytherin.
Ernie stood up, watching her go, before turning around to go back to Hufflepuff. He'd made it up past the trick stair when Alecto Carrow appeared at the top of the stairwell. "What's this?" she asked, tapping her (ugly, pointed) foot.
Ernie froze. Alecto Carrow beckoned.
He followed her into a small room in the dungeons, and stood resigned as she took out her wand and polished it, fondly. He stood resigned as she pointed it at him. He stood resigned as she told him "the more noise you make, the longer this will last."
And then he collapsed into the snapping red blast of light that came from her wand as she cast Crucio.
The pain of it made him start to shake violently, his eyes squeezed shut (it somehow hurt more looking at the red light-- or was it that he couldn't bear even the little energy it took to keep them open still?). He bit hard on the inside of his mouth, desperately trying not to cry out, and it seemed like nearly half an hour had passed before it stopped.
He looked up at her then, breathing heavily, then adjusted the badge on his robes and smiled a bit in fake bravado. "You know, Snape did pick me to be Head Boy still after all- and I'm a Pureblood," he reminded her, wondering how badly the next round would hurt. "I hear you don't like to spill our blood."
Carrow raised her eyebrows down at him, visibly nonplussed (though inwardly she was full of loathing for the arrogant bastard), then took up her wand again.
He was right- it was much worse this time and he knew he had deserved it for talking to her like that, but he couldn't have just sat and taken it without saying something- then it would all be for nothing, wouldn't it have been, all the D.A. lessons and the fighting that had already occurred so far this year under their noses. He managed to roll a bit on the floor, trying to protect his stomach (though he couldn't bear to do it, he still took notes in Dark Arts classes just out of habit, so he knew that when one had their wand at the most vulnerable areas on the body, it hurt about twice as much as when one was aiming for just a limb).
It seemed, though, that his words had actually gotten to her, as the second round turned out to be the final round, and much shorter than one that had preluded it. "Get up, Hufflepuff," Carrow sneered, then waved him away with her hand. "How very hypocritical for Mr. Head Boy to be breaking the rules he works so hard to uphold."
Ernie stared dumbly up at her, not quite knowing how to take this, then realised that she was actually letting him free. She looked like she had something else on her mind, though, so he pulled his wand out of his pocket. Carrow raised her eyebrows again, but he merely waved it in the air and said clearly, "One hundred points from Hufflepuff, right?"
He went, then, quickly, and shot a glance at her over his shoulder (one especially full of hatred), hoping she wouldn't curse him as he left. Fortunately, though, she didn't, and he made it back down to Hufflepuff without further incident. He didn't bother to take his robes and clothes off, though, just wanting so badly to be in bed that he was struck with an uncharacteristic and out-of-character laziness, and practically fell down on top of his blankets, a quiet sob escaping his throat once his head hit his pillow.
+++
Ernie sidled into Potions and took his usual seat, about five minutes before the class was scheduled to begin. He had gone to Madam Pomfrey before Potions and gotten all fixed up; Zacharias swore that he looked perfectly normal.
Tracey glanced up as Ernie entered the room and nodded, almost imperceptibly, before turning 'round and whispering to Theodore about their Arithmancy homework. He nodded back, just as slightly, and reviewed his notes before Slughorn announced that lessons were now beginning. Rather uncharacteristically of Ernie, though, he found himself not listening to a single thing Slughorn was saying. He had been dreading going to Potions, as he knew he would see Tracey there and that would just remind him of what had happened that night on the staircase. Suddenly, though, he caught his name and heard it followed by "partnered with Tracey Davis for this particular potion."
Tracey blinked when Slughorn assigned the groups for their potions. She excused herself from her conversation with Theodore with, "have fun with Corner," and gathered her things, moving over to where Ernie was. "Hello, Macmillan," she said, putting her stuff down. "I hope you know how to make this?" Under her breath, she whispered, "did everything turn out okay for you?"
Ernie opened his textbook to the correct page and leaned over the book, feigning great interest (though it really was a very fascinating potion). He shot her a sideways glance and whispered back, "More or less."
"Do you have the lacewings?" Tracey asked, muttering back, "more or less?"
Ernie rummaged through his kit and shook his head. "I'm a bit short- I've got a few here, but I don't expect they'll be enough." He then flushed slightly as he contemplated how to ask her real question, then whispered, "It wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be."
"What?!" Tracey exclaimed, and hastily amended: "But I don't have enough, either!" Quieter, she repeated, "what?"
Ernie straightened up a little in his seat and looked over at her pointedly. "Storeroom, then?"
"All right," Tracey said, leading the way. When they got in there, she turned on him. "What gives?"
"There's really not much to say," Ernie answered quietly, going over to the lacewings (he really didn't have much of them). "You left, the one who teaches Muggle Studies came and caught me and took me down to the dungeon."
Alecto. The worse of the two. "Oh my God," Tracey whispered, rummaging through the other ingredients they might need. "Are you... was it very bad?"
"It was all right," Ernie said, shrugging a little. He looked down quickly at the ground, though, once he realised that his voice had cracked slightly just thinking about it.
But it wasn't all right. "I shouldn't have left," Tracey fretted.
Ernie had predicted she would say something along those lines. "No," he said, more firmly than before, then walked over to where she was standing in the storeroom. "I'm glad you left- I hadn't had it before and- you were lucky."
"You shouldn't have had it!" Tracey whispered back, growing agitated. "They might've taken your Head Boy status away -- actually, they might yet -- and you can be almost certain that Blaise would get it, and that would not be good!" She had been jabbing her finger at him as she said this, pushing him backwards, and at that last, she had him against a wall. "I'm used to it, and I really don't have anything to lose if I'm caught breaking rules! You should've gone instead!"
Ernie hit the back of his head on the wall and suddenly got a tremendous sense of deja vu from their last encounter. "I couldn't have lived with myself if I had just let you get it," he hissed back, looking down at her. "I don't care about being Head Boy, it doesn't mean what I thought it would, not with them in charge! I have to enforce their rules and take points away for the dumbest things and people think I'm going to help them but I can't and I feel so guilty because I can't and." He trailed off for a moment. "I break the rules all the time now anyway."
"Better you than Blaise!" Tracey snapped at him. "He would go around torturing people without going to the Carrows! Your keeping Head Boy is important, like it or not!"
"They won't take it away from me," Ernie said confidently, though he was becoming less and less sure of this. "She told me- afterwards- and I took about a hundred points away from my house once it was done and she seemed to like that because I sort of had a feeling she would ask me to so I went ahead and did it anyway."
Tracey closed her eyes, speechless. Opened them again, and resumed sorting through vials.
"It's not like I really care about them," Ernie muttered, trying to fill up the awkward silence. "Like I told you. I just- everyone else cares and I feel bad, but I'm glad they didn't catch you."
"Thank you," Tracey said, sincerely, and, realising that she still had him against the wall, stepped back. "Truly."
"You're welcome," Ernie said, then smiled a little at her despite the circumstances.
Tracey smiled tentatively back. "So!" she said, after a moment of silence. "We should probably start on the potion now."
Ernie shrugged a little, glancing down at the lacewings. "I don't really want to. Is that bad?"
"Probably," Tracey said, wrinkling her nose.
"Let's not, then," Ernie deadpanned, though he was uncharacteristically serious.
Tracey bit her lip. "That would probably not end up well," she admitted. "Unless you have some sort of deal with Professor Slughorn."
"No, I haven't," Ernie said, then walked back over to the door of the storeroom. "Let's go, then."
Tracey picked up the lacewings and a vial of hippopotamus oil, which Ernie had left behind, and followed him out.
He sat down at his seat and got out his cauldron, glancing over at Tracey. Now that they were actually both well-lit (considering that it was daytime), he couldn't help but notice that she wasn't really that bad looking, better than Parkinson, at least.
Tracey glanced across at Ernie to see him looking at her. She half-smiled, mashing dandelion and clover root, and starting the flame under their cauldron.
"Pardon me," he said, and reached over for the jar of lacewings. He set to work, reading the instructions again carefully, and accidentally brushed her hand with his.
Tracey nodded, reaching for the shrivelfig, trying to ignore the fact that Ernie's hand brushed hers.
Ernie leaned over and whispered in her ear, "How does your head of house feel about the, er. You know. Does he condone it?"
"He doesn't really have that much choice," Tracey whispered back. "Pass the boomslang skin, please."
Ernie nodded a little, and then handed over the boomslang. "Does he do it? Was really what I was asking."
"No, he doesn't," Tracey said. "Somehow they don't make him." She started shredding the boomslang. "Wait, do we need this in the potion at all?"
"Yes," Ernie said, his tone patient. He pointed to his textbook and showed her the page.
"Oh, good." She continued shredding.
Ernie glanced up at the clock and was most disheartened to see that only about fifteen minutes had elapsed since the beginning of the period. He started on the first paragraph of instructions, adding the specified ingredients to the cauldron and stirring twice counterclockwise.
+++
Tracey followed Ernie as he left the room hastily. "Hey," she whispered at him, as he threatened to be lost in the mass of students winding away from the classroom. "Hey, come over here." She was gesturing towards an alcove, next to a rather ugly statue of a rather large wizard.
Ernie glanced over at her curiously, not quite sure what she wanted to talk to him about. Class had gone quite well in the end once he realised that they were fairly well matched in skill at the subject and were able to work together decently. He walked over with her to the alcove, then looked at her expectantly.
Tracey wasn't exactly sure why she had called him over. "Er," she said. "Um. Okay, so."
"Yes," Ernie said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Did you want to speak to me some more?"
"Yeah," Tracey said. "It's about... administration at this school."
"Oh, yeah?" Ernie looked at her intently, wondering why she was suddenly so tentative when earlier she had been rather vehement and intense with her feelings on this specific subject.
Tracey looked around again. "Only I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't have listening spells around here," she said. "Do you know of a place?"
Ernie immediately thought of the Room of Requirement, then decided that he couldn't dare risk telling Tracey about that. "No, I don't," he lied.
Tracey considered. It might be a risk, mentioning it to him, but he seemed like an okay guy. "Have you heard of the Come and Go Room?"
"Yes," Ernie said carefully, honestly a bit disturbed that she had mentioned it. "I've, er. Heard of it, but never quite found where it is."
Tracey nodded. "Um. Okay, then. I don't know."
"Right," Ernie said, then shrugged a little, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Tracey shook her head. "Never mind. Forget I mentioned anything." She shouldered her bag and made as if to leave.
"All right," Ernie said, entirely confused as to what exactly had just happened.
"All right," Tracey said, peevishly. "See you next Potions."
He nodded a little and gave her a small wave, then started walking away towards his House.
Tracey cursed herself, inwardly, and went on toward Charms.
When she got back into her common room later, she wrote Ernie a note, careful to make her handwriting as ambiguous as was possible. It contained secrets to distracting oneself from the Cruciatus when being tortured (pain would be the same, mind would be otherwise occupied -- it only sometimes worked, but was worth a shot) and, not signing it, sent it to him by way of illiterate first year hulk.
Ernie was rather frightened when a rather large first year came up to him in the Great Hall during dinner. He glanced down at the boy's Slytherin design on his robes and shot a quick glance over at Tracey when he thought no one was looking.
Tracey was shoving a rather large piece of chicken in her mouth (she had never quite managed the fine art of cutting her food into bite-sized pieces) when she noticed that Ernie had gotten her note. She almost choked, but manage to regain composure in time to smile serenely at no-one in particular (and Ernie in general) and focus intently on her peas, somewhat embarrassed. Ernie laughed a little, having completely witnessed the whole thing, and went back to his seat at the Hufflepuff table.
Tracey flushed, a little.
Pansy had apparently watched the whole thing shrewdly. "What's with you and that Macmillan guy?" she asked, eating a (perfectly cut) bit of her own chicken.
"Nothing," Tracey said. "We're just partnered up in Potions."
"Oh, I see," Pansy said. "So what was in the note, plans for a late-night rendezvous and under-the-sheets action?"
"We've already had our rendezvous," Tracey said. "It was a proposal for marriage." And she smiled serenely and took a sip of her blackcurrant juice, and winked at the just-returned first year (who promptly dropped his plate).
Ernie slipped the note into his pocket and decided to read it when he was away from Zacharias, who would probably want to read over his shoulder out of curiosity (Justin was an insatiably curious fellow and probably should have been in Ravenclaw; that or perhaps he was just a bit of a gossip).
Tracey didn't feel much for dessert, so she left the Great Hall early, and headed for the library.
Ernie had been shooting glances over at Tracey throughout the rest of the meal so when he saw her get up he was half-tempted to follow her, but then decided that that might seem a bit suspicious (and besides, even if he left a few minutes later, how on earth was he to know where she was going?). So he didn't. It wasn't like he really wanted to talk to her anyway, she was just rather intriguing.
Tracey settled down to do some intensive research for Transfigurations (Such a horrid class!) in her favourite corner in the library. She snuck a sugar quill out of her bag, and sucked on it, trying to make heads or tails of the theory she'd need for NEWTs.
Ernie went to the library after dinner as usual and nearly walked past her before noticing who it was. He cleared his throat slightly and waited for her to look up from her book.
Tracey didn't hear anything, but she noticed that someone was standing next to her about a quarter of the way through the quill. "Oh, hi," she said, upon seeing Ernie.
"What are you working on?" Ernie asked, then took a seat next to her without being invited.
"Transfigurations," Tracey said, wrinkling her nose. "Honestly, give me fifteen Arithmancy equations and I can get them done in a heartbeat, but ask me about the theory behind Transfigurations, and." She shuddered.
"You're in my Arithmancy class too?" Ernie asked, leaning closer to her in order to see what she was looking at. "Oh, yes, this is a nasty chapter."
"Pretty much," Tracey agreed, underlining a section. "I'd almost rather take Care of Magical Creatures than learn this. Almost."
Ernie pulled a face just thinking about that class. "Don't ever say that."
Tracey sneered at him, though the effect was rather ruined by the bit of sugar quill caught on her lip. "Anyway so what are you doing here?"
"Revision," Ernie answered, thinking that was rather obvious. "You've got some quill on your lip, by the way."
"For what?" Tracey asked, licking her lips in order to get the offending bit off.
Ernie brought his gaze up to her eyes and swallowed slightly. "History of Magic," he answered after a moment.
"Ooh, History of Magic!" Tracey said, only somewhat sarcastically (and also completely oblivious to Ernie's reactions). "That has the potential to be really interesting."
"Shut up," Ernie answered instantly, and shot her a grin. "I really like it. I think it's a totally necessary subject- I wish more people were taking it, though, it's really awkward to have one-on-one classes with Binns."
"I would be taking it," Tracey admitted, "if it fit into my schedule."
"You're missing out," Ernie said, shrugging. He leaned back against his chair and yawned a bit. "Binns is a lovely fellow."
"Yes," Tracey said.
Ernie yawned again, covering his mouth politely. "Thanks for the note, by the way," he added after a moment. He had read it in the corridor on his way to the library.
Tracey nodded. "Absolutely no problem," she said, refocusing on her Transfigurations text and also her sugar quill (which teased the corner of her mouth when she focused extra-hard).
Ernie pulled out his own textbook (which was quite thick) and opened it to page 672 before glancing over at her again. "Tracey?"
"Mmm?" Tracey asked, underlining another section, and looked up. "Yes?"
"My head hurts still," he lied.
Tracey frowned. "I'm sorry," she said. "Would you like the spell?"
"Yeah, can you do it?" Ernie asked, then leaned closer to her again.
"Yeah," Tracey said, her mouth growing dry. She cleared her throat and whispered the spell.
Ernie waited for the cold feeling to leave before smiling a little at her. "Thanks," he said. "It feels a lot better" (which was another lie, seeing as his head sort of felt a bit strange now that it was a bit numb on just that one spot).
"I'm glad," Tracey said, turning to re-focus on her Transfigurations, touching the tip of her sugar quill to her tongue.
Ernie's gaze fell back down to her mouth and he swallowed. "Tracey?"
"Yeah?" Tracey said, accidentally swallowing part of her quill. She coughed. "What is it?"
"I think you're pretty," Ernie blurted. His eyes widened slightly in shock at the slip before he leaned in to kiss her (as though he was attempting to shut her up from asking anything about what he had just said).
Tracey barely had time to blink after Ernie's statement before he kissed her (and yet she still managed to get another blink in). She considered pushing him back and asking him exactly what it was that he thought he was doing, but there was also the factor of him being a decent kisser. "Conundrum," she thought, not realising that she actually said it aloud (while he was still kissing her).
"What on earth," Ernie said, partly in response to his actually kissing her and partly wondering what was that odd noise she had just made. He then pulled away, his eyes still wide.
"Exactly," Tracey said, and blinked, still not over the whole blinking thing.
"Yes," he said, then looked at her nervously. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Tracey considered, eating her sugar quill again. "No," she said, after great deliberation. "I really think it was all right."
Ernie smiled then, not realising he had been waiting nervously for her to say something along those lines for the past few seconds. "All right, then."
"All right, what?" Tracey asked, dismayed to find she only had about a quarter of her quill left. She decided to eat it all at once.
"I don't know," Ernie said with a shrug. "Let's just see what happens." And he looked down at his textbook again, a grin barely contained on his face.
Tracey half-smiled. "Okay," she said, reaching in her bag for another sugar quill and a scrap of parchment.
+++
Ernie was strolling down the corridors on his way to somewhere.
Pansy had accosted Tracey in the hall earlier that day. "There's something going on with you and that Macmillan boy," she'd said, accusingly.
Tracey had tried to deny it, but she hadn't listened. "Prove it," she'd said. "By tonight."
So now, Tracey was doing (rather good) impressions of Ernie in a rather unfavorable light, in the name of proving to Pansy that she wasn't with Ernie (thus sparing them both some rather unsavory attention from most of the rest of Slytherin house), making sure to focus on his penchant for deducting house points for minor infractions of the rules.
Tracey didn't seem to notice that Ernie had stumbled across her and Pansy. He watched her antics for a few minutes, feeling decidedly heartbroken, before straightening his Head Boy badge on his chest. "Davis, I suppose I'm going to predictable as always," he started, glancing over at Pansy with scorn before looking back over at Tracey.
"Ten points," Ernie said with a wave of his hand. "Go back to Slytherin now, both of you."
Tracey watched Pansy stalk off, looking vaguely reassured, but didn't move herself. "Ernie, I can explain," she said, very much regretting doing impressions in a public location.
"You don't have to," Ernie said, then walked back where he had come from.
But Tracey followed after him. "Ernie, she was suspicious."
"You don't have to explain anything to me," Ernie repeated, not looking over his shoulder at her.
"Ernie, I didn't mean it," Tracey said, beginning to feel hopeless and a little angry.
"How do I know you aren't lying?" He went round a corner and caught a glimpse of her as he did so.
"Because," Tracey said, "because I'm not!"
"If you really cared about what other people thought, you wouldn't be chasing me about Hogwarts making a scene- sort of undoes all your work trying to trick Parkinson, doesn't it?" Ernie snapped, finally turning around to face her.
"I'm not making a scene!" Tracey hissed. "No one else is around!" Which was true.
"I don't need this, Davis," Ernie said, then turned and walked away again.
"Alright, fine," Tracey snapped, but he was already out of earshot. She was okay with this. She really was. If Er- Macmillan was going to be that way, she would, too.
She stalked off to Slytherin, ruminating on (admittedly petty) ways to make him make a proper scene. Probably trick stairs should be involved.