Halloween Camp

Halloween Camp
by: Cliobella


“Ow! Hermione, let go!”

Hermione looked down at Neville’s arm and saw the little crescent shaped marks her nails made in the skin.

“I’m so sorry, Neville,” She pulled her hands away with a guilty start. She turned her attention back to Ginny who was telling a story about some kid at sleep away camp drowning and coming back years later to kill a bunch of teenagers at this very spot. Hermione tried to ignore Ginny’s voice and concentrated on staring at the fire in front of her. She hated these kinds of stories! When they decided to go on this little excursion to help close down Luna’s Uncle Gaerwn’s summer camp, Hermione had no idea that it was going to turn into a contest to see who could tell the scariest story.

Uncle Gaerwn, as he insisted they all call him, had been running a summer camp for squib children for the last 40 years. When he fell ill, Luna says from an infected Snarfblatt bite, Luna and Neville volunteered to close the camp up for the winter. Harry, Ron and Hermione happily offered to help and where Won-Won went, Lavender was sure to follow. The big surprise was Draco Malfoy’s offer of his assistance. For some reason, he and Luna had become friends following the final battle last Halloween. They were all spending a weekend at the camp, closing the cabins and making sure new wards were set to keep everything in good order for the following Spring.

They spent the day clearing paths and shutting up all the little cabins, with the exception of the ones they were using. They then split into smaller groups to tackle the common areas. Harry, Neville and Lavender worked in the greenhouse and gardens while Ginny and Ron cleaned and closed up the games building. That left Hermione, Luna and Draco to clean and close up the kitchen and dining building. Hermione was surprised, not only had Draco pitched in and worked as hard as anyone else, he was nice about it, friendly even. He even had a talent for cooking, which they all discovered when he volunteered to help Harry make dinner. It was no surprise that Harry had experience in a kitchen, he was little more than an unpaid servant for his Muggle relatives; but Draco Malfoy? That had everyone stumped until he blushingly told them that he was raised by house-elves for all intents and purposes and therefore spent a great deal of time in the kitchens. He even knew quite a few housekeeping spells that sped up their cleaning and closing up routines. After the sun went down, they sat on logs around a big campfire and roasted marshmallows. Then the horrible stories started.

Hermione started out sitting on a log next to Ron and Lavender, but while Neville telling a story about an escapee from an insane asylum with a hook for a hand, she grabbed Ron’s hand. After very possessive look from Lavender, Hermione made her way over to sit next to Harry and Ginny. Ron then told a story about a serial killer who attacks people in their sleep, using their dreams. Hermione scooted so close to Harry during that story, she ended up pushing him into Ginny who then fell off the other end of the log to the ground. So, she was now sitting next to Neville while Ginny tells her horrible story. She knows it is only a matter of time before even sweet-hearted Neville sends her packing too; after all, she has practically ripped his arm to shreds. She wonders if she can go back over to Ron. She cast a speculative look in his direction, only to see a “Don’t even think about it” look on Lavender’s face as she climbed onto Ron’s lap. Ginny reached a point in her story that was scary enough for Neville to jump a bit. Unfortunately, his jump sent her into another round of frantic clawing on his arm.

“That’s it!” He stood up and swinging her over his shoulder said, “I’m sorry, ‘Mione-Luv; but I’m going to need my wand arm tomorrow.”

With that being said, he strode around the campfire and dropped her right on Malfoy’s lap! Hermione let out an indignant squeal and jumped up, scooting as far down to the other end of the log as she could. She couldn’t even look at Draco, afraid she would see nothing but his old disdain for her in his eyes. She made it through the rest of Ginny’s story, thankfully there wasn’t much left to tell, something about a boulder in the bottom of a lake.

She was just taking a deep breath to try and calm her nerves when Harry leaned over from his seat on the log adjacent to hers and yelled, “Boo!”

Hermione screamed and jumped to the other end of the log, back to Draco’s lap. She flew into his arms, knocking him backwards over the log. He landed flat on his back with his legs still over the top of the log and his arms full of witch. Amid Harry and Ron’s laughter, she hesitantly lifted her head from where she had been burrowing into his chest. She looked into his eyes, expecting to see anger or disgust, something she was familiar with coming from him. Instead she saw something akin to amusement, but not directed at her; more at the genuinely funny situation. She gave him a tentative smile, only to receive a wider one in return. She scrambled up, apologizing to him for knocking him down, then stood there trying to figure out where she could go sit now.

“Just sit down, Granger,” Draco told her, tugging on her arm until she was sitting next to him on the log. She looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled at her and asked who was next.

Ten minutes later, Lavender was going on about a woman in a motel shower and Hermione was busily chewing her fingernails and keeping her eyes clenched shut. She jumped a little when she felt a hand on hers. Opening her eyes she saw Draco pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“Stop that,” he admonished gently. He gave her hand a soft squeeze before he pulled away, turning his attention back to Lavender’s story.

A few minutes later and Hermione was chewing again; but this time when Draco pulled her hands from her mouth, he kept them in his own. She looked up at him startled, but he just smiled at her and turned back to the story being told. Hermione relaxed a bit, even if she did edge a little closer to Draco as the story moved on. When it was Luna’s turn, Hermione calmed down. She was expecting a story along the lines of Wrinkle-Necked Snow Shoe Chewers in the Andes or something equally outrageous. What Luna provided, however, was a story about a madman putting people in deathtraps in some insane bid to change their outlook on life. Hermione squeezed Draco’s hand so hard he winced and pulled his hand away. She looked up in apology and he simply shook his head, grinning at her. Then putting his arm around her, he drew her closer to his side.

“You are completely mental,” he said in a low voice, lips twitching into a friendly smirk. “You do know that, right?”

She just looked at him and laughed, “Of course I know that, Ron has been saying that for years.”

Somewhere in the woods behind them an animal made a noise and Hermione screamed. She jumped on Draco, climbing onto his lap and wrapping arms and legs around him, squealing the whole time.

“Merlin’s Fuzzy Slippers, Hermione!” he laughed. “You stood up to the Darkest Wizard of our time. You actually told him, to that thing he called a face, that he was a…and I quote…a ’Scaly Half-Blood with delusions of grandeur whose asinine attempts at world domination probably stemmed from penile envy’ but a squirrel breaks wind in the woods, and you start climbing me like a deranged tree monkey!”

Hermione looked down at his face, his head thrown back in laughter and started laughing herself. Before long, everyone was laughing.

“Did you really say that to Voldemort?” Lavender asked, voice filled with awe.

“Not exactly,” Neville said with a smirk. “She didn’t say anything as remotely mature as ‘penile envy.’ She told him he was compensating for being totally dickless.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Draco said as everyone started laughing. “I must have blocked that traumatic phrase from my memory. But I do remember being shocked that sweet innocent Hermione Granger actually said the word dickless.”

“Hah! That is because she hasn’t gone after you before,” Ron laughed.

“Excuse me?” Draco laughed in a huff. “She decked me in third year! If that isn’t being gone after, I don’t know what is.”

“Nah,” Harry said. “That was just a little love-pat. If you want to talk about getting decked, you should have seen what she did to Dudley the summer before our last year!”

Hermione blushed, “Harry, we don’t have to bring that up again.”

“Shut up, Granger! I want to know what happened to Harry‘s cousin,” Draco said, wondering what the little witch next to him did to make her cheeks turn such a pretty shade of pink.

“We were on our way to pick Harry up at the Dursley’s, Fred and George had developed a temporary invisibility charm so we were able to fly. ‘Mione was already in a bad mood”

“Hey! I was not in a bad mood!”

“Oh, yes you were!” Harry laughed. “I saw you when you landed.”

“May I continue please?” Ron said imperiously. “Anyway. Like I was saying. She was in a bad mood ‘cause she really hates to be on a broom; but she rode there with Fred and George so she wasn‘t as bad as she would have been if she was on a broom with anyone else.”

“What? Wait a minute!” Draco interrupted. He looked at Hermione in disbelief, “You rode on the same broom with Fred and George?”

“Well, not at the same time!” Hermione laughed. “I rode there with Fred and back with George.”

“If you picked up Potter, why didn’t you ride back with him?” Draco questioned.

“She only trusts Fred and George,” Harry said. “She always has. Don’t know why, they still fly fast and high, but she isn’t scared with either of them.”

“And you are with the Gryffindor Golden Boy?” Draco was trying to process Hermione trusting the troublemaking twins to fly her more than Harry.

“I’m not scared with others, exactly,” Hermione tried to explain, “I’m just more secure with the twins. I don’t really know why either, but I am.”

“Anyway!” Ron put in, “if I can finish.”

“Damn, I hoped he would get distracted and tell a story about the twins or something,” Hermione grumbled quietly as Draco cocked a brow at her.

“He will end up telling how it took both of them to pull you off Dudley,” Harry told her.

“What?” Draco couldn’t believe it, were they saying she actually beat up a kid? “Harry, is your cousin is built like, well, you? No offense.”

“None taken, I assure you,” Harry reassured Draco. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be tall like the Weasley boys. "No, Dudley is..."

“Not, Dudley…,” Ron interrupted solemnly, “Ickle Duddikins.”

“Yes, thank you, Ronald, you are correct,” Harry continued. “Ickle Duddikins makes Neville look like, well, me.”

Draco’s eyes widened at that, amazed. Neville was nearly as tall as Ron, standing a couple inches over six feet, and seemed nearly as wide as he was tall, all of it solid muscle. He hit a serious growth spurt during sixth year and the following summer and was definitely a force to be reckoned with. It was a good thing he was so mild mannered, Draco thought, because the man was a veritable wall with feet. And Harry’s cousin made Neville look small?

“Ickle Duddikins must be a damn monster,” Draco said softly.

“Yeah, in more ways than one,” Hermione put in. “When we were nearing Privet Drive, we heard noises in the park down the street. We did a quick little fly-by and saw the big fat bastard pounding on Harry while two of his not-quite-as-fat bastard friends were holding him.”

“Yeah, Duddy-Diddums was on the boxing team at his school and liked to stay in practice over the summer,” Ron added. “We hadn’t even properly landed and Hermione here jumped off Fred’s broom and ran at the fat slob full speed, screaming and cussing at him the whole way. She knocked him away from Harry and started swinging.”

“The pudgy bastard deserved it!“ Hermione exclaimed. “He had been treating Harry like dirt for years, and I know he hit Harry before; but this? This was just viciousness simply for the sake of viciousness.”

Draco looked down in amazement at Hermione who was sitting there face flushed in what he originally thought was embarrassment. Now he knew it was just anger, pure and simple. Righteous, justified anger.

“Then Big D, as he used to be known to his friends,” Harry began.

“Used to be?” Draco stopped Harry, “Why used to be?”

“Well,” Ron explained, “would your friends call you Big anything if they saw you get the shite beat out of you by someone that little? And a girl to boot? Yeah, didn‘t think so.”

“Anyway, then my darling cousin made his big mistake,” Harry picked up where he left off. “The moron turned around and called Hermione a Freak Bitch and then called her a whore. That's when Hermione got really mad. She beat the hell out of Dudders and wouldn’t have stopped if Fred and George hadn’t grabbed her.”

“Yeah, they are really the only ones that can calm her down when she goes off like that, again, we don’t know why,” Ron said. “And we don’t ask, we are just grateful they can and that she doesn’t go berserk like that often.”

“Then, while she is hanging from Fred and George’s arms, still swinging I might add, she looked at Dudley’s friends and asked if they wanted to say anything either. They just about wet themselves trying to say ‘no’ fast enough for her. Then…then” Harry was laughing at the memory so hard he couldn‘t continue.

“She told them to pick up their piece of shite friend and get his sorry arse out of her sight before she lost her temper,” Ron finished for Harry.

“And before you ask, she didn’t use magic either,” Harry said, reading Draco’s thoughts. “She was just mad.”

“She is also a black-belt,” Hermione put in. “And she is sitting right here so you all can stop talking about me like I‘m not. I‘m ashamed of my behavior when he called me those names; but I would do it again for what he did to Harry.”

“I take it back,” Draco said with respect. “What you gave me in third year was a little pat compared to that. Remind me to never make you mad. At least not that mad.”

“That mad?” she questioned.

“Well, a little mad is OK,” he teased her. “You are awful cute when you’re mad.”

“And on that note,” Neville stood up, “we should probably put out the fire and turn in. It looks like it is going to start raining any minute.”

“Then I’m glad we got the outside work done today,” Ginny said.

They put the fire out, and everyone made their way to their cabins as the sky opened up. They were staying in the counselor’s cabins, small little single person cabins, just big enough for a bed, chair and wardrobe. There was also a tiny fireplace and a small little bathroom. The original plan was to have one each; but realistically, Hermione knew the others would be pairing up. After walking Hermione to her cabin door, and making a show of searching the wardrobe and under the bed for monsters, Harry kissed her on the forehead and told her goodnight before walking down to Ginny’s cabin.

Lavender was already in Ron’s cabin; and as she stood on the little wooden step in front of her door, Hermione watched Neville pick Luna up and run through the rain to her cabin. Hermione walked in the cabin and looked out the door as she shut it. Draco was in the cabin directly across from hers. He was standing in the doorway, she couldn’t see his expression, he was just a dark outline in the door. He lifted a hand and waved to her. She raised her own hand and closed her door, locking it tight before moving to the wardrobe to pull out a pair of flannel pajamas.

About thirty minutes later the storm was in full swing. Draco was reading in the chair when he was startled by a pounding on his door. He set the book aside and moved to the door, fingers moving towards his wand.

“Draco! Open the door!” Hermione’s voice yelled through the wood. “Please!”

Draco swung the door open to find a shivering, soaking wet Hermione Granger standing on his doorstep.

“Get in here, Granger,” He pulled her forcefully into the room, slamming the door on the storm. He grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom and wrapping her in one of them, started roughly drying her hair with the other. “What in blazes do you think you are doing outside in a storm like this? And in your pajamas, no less?”

“I heard a noise outside my window and thought about all those psycho killers and got scared.”

“Oh,” he gave her a half-arsed sneer. “You heard a noise, and, worried that it could be a psycho killer, went rushing out to what? Save him the trouble of breaking in your door?”

“Well, it just sounds stupid when you say it that way,” she huffed.

“Okay,” he nodded at her. “Why don’t you say it in a way that won’t make it sound stupid.”

“I can’t and you know it,” she pouted up at him, then she started laughing. “I guess it does sound a bit stupid, huh?”

“Just a bit.” he laughed with her. “So, why are you here, dripping on my floor?”

“Well, I was wondering…or hoping…I mean, not actually hoping, but,” she stammered, trying to figure out the best way to answer him.

“Just spit it out, Granger. I’ve never known you to have a hard time speaking your mind.”

She looked up at him and glared.

“Look, I’ll save you the trouble,” he said gently. “Would you feel better if you stayed in here with me tonight?”

“Yes, please,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks turning pink.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and I’ll get you something dry to put on,” he moved towards the wardrobe to begin a search. “But I warn you, it probably won’t be all that fashionable. You will probably have to make do with a Quidditch jersey.”

She laughed, “That’s alright, a preference if you want the truth. I usually sleep in one of Fred or George’s old jerseys at home.“

He gave her a considering look as he handed her a soft jersey, “Really?”

She took the shirt from his hand and headed for the bathroom, “Yeah, really.” She continued answering him through the bathroom door as she changed from her flannel pajamas into the well-worn Cannons jersey. “In fact, I make it a point of nicking one whenever I go to the Burrow.”

She opened the bathroom door and Draco’s breath caught in his throat. She looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t believe it. She was standing there, hair a wet, tangled mess, cheeks flushed an embarrassed pink, and wearing a bright orange Quidditch jersey that fell to mid-thigh. And in Draco’s mind, no woman had ever looked lovelier, or likely ever would. He always knew she was brilliant and brave, not to mention fiercely loyal and protective. The story he heard earlier about Harry’s cousin was a perfect example of that. But he had never really looked at her as a woman. Sure, she was lovely that year at the Yule Ball, but that was different somehow. This was just Hermione, and Hermione was perfect. He felt his heart begin to stumble a little bit. Then she sneezed. It was a tiny little sneeze, like the sound a kitten would make. It was such a little thing, but his heart did more than stumble. It dropped right down to the floor, landing in a heap at her feet.

“Bless you,” he said softly, his finger tapping her on the tip of her nose.

“Thank you”

“Come on, Granger. Let’s get you in front of the fire and get that hair dry.”

“Do you have a comb?” she asked as he just looked at her like she was the most daft person on the planet. “Oh, right. Silly me. Forgot who I was talking to for a second.”

He just laughed and walked into the bathroom, returning with a comb.

“Sit down, I’ll get the tangles out for you.”

She looked up at him, surprised by the offer. She didn’t say anything, just silently sat in front of the fire as he moved behind her. He started combing her hair, starting at the bottom, working the tangles out.

“So. You are pretty close to the Weasley twins, huh?” He was trying for casual nonchalance, and wasn’t sure he was succeeding. But he had to know what her relationship situation was, especially since he had every intention of making her relationship situation totally about him.

“Yeah,” she answered. “It probably seems surprising, Little-Miss-By-The-Rules and the most notorious rule breakers Hogwarts had seen in a generation. But, they understand me. They are brilliant, you know. All those jokes in their shop, all those new spells and charms? They came up with them. They came up with such wonderful tools for the Order during the war, everything from the invisibility charm to hexes and curses. And afterwards, everyone was so happy and excited; but they truly understood the losses, on both sides. Just like I did. They never treat me like some silly, little girl; they listen to me, really listen. And, they are the only ones who really stand up to me. Merlin knows Harry and Ron won’t,” she laughed as she said it.

“That is true,” Draco said, joining in her laughter. “What is it Ron used to say about you, brilliant, but scary? It doesn’t surprise me that he wouldn’t stand up to you. And Potter is too busy being protective to even think about standing up to you.”

“Ron still says that,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “And Harry is definitely the protective type. The twins, on the other hand, don’t see any reason to be protective, what they really are is supportive. They know I can take care of myself, for the most part. In all this time, they have only stepped in once to defend me. Truth to tell, it was mainly my pride that was damaged, but they insisted that they were defending my honor. I almost felt sorry for him when they were done.”

He felt a quick surge of anger, if someone hurt her, they were going to pay. And pay dearly. “Who?”

“Ron.”

“What?” Draco was completely taken aback, all anger forgotten. “What happened?”

“Ron and I started dating. Well, after a couple months, I knew it wasn’t working out. We were much better as just friends, but before I had a chance to tell him that we should break it off, I caught him snogging Lavender. I ran outside; crying, feeling like a fool. Anyway, Fred and George saw me and asked what was wrong. Before too long, I poured out the whole story to them. They understood that it was bruised pride and not heartbreak; but they said that Ron had to learn to break it off with one girl before going after another. Then they made sure that lesson sunk in.”

“How did they do that?” Draco knew enough about the twins to know that it was definitely not a good idea to be on their bad side.

“Well, first they switched out his shampoo and soap. His hair turned green, Slytherin green,” she looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “it stuck out in all directions, like he had just been hit by lightning. And all his freckles turned green as well. Not terribly attractive, by the way. Then they did something to his shoes so that his feet ended up smelling like a dead blast-ended skrewt.”

By this time Draco had given up on combing her hair and was lying on the floor laughing like a loon holding his sides and gasping for air.

She joined in the laughter saying, “That wasn’t all they did, that was just a couple highlights. It gets better, or worse, depending on your point of view! He spent two weeks talking only in rhyme and then another two weeks where he would start singing “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” every time he saw Snape. I was sure Ron was going to be hexed into oblivion; but Fred and George explained the whats and whys to Severus and the dear professor just glared and menaced and gave him horrible detentions, thankfully he didn‘t take house points. The worst part, and I still can’t get them to tell me how they did it, but the worst part was what they did to Lavender.”

“What did they do to her?” Draco asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Well, it wasn’t actually to her, she just ended up with the unpleasant results,” Hermione explained. “The twins set Ron up so that every time he was with Lavender and he was, shall we say excited, he would end up with horrible, and I do mean horrible, gas! Apparently, this was discovered when they closed themselves up in a broom closet. The twins watched them go in and spelled the door to stay shut until Filch or Snape opened it.”

At this, Draco threw back his head and just howled. He was trying to catch is breath enough to ask her which one opened the door, but only ended up stammering, “Wh…who…wh.”

She understood what he was trying to ask, and between hiccupping gasps for air herself answered, “Filch. And apparently the smell was so bad when he opened the door, that he passed out himself, right after he got sick on Lavender’s new shoes! Fred and George took pictures!”

They ended up laying on the floor for several minutes laughing hysterically and trying to catch their breath. Both imagining the unpleasant caretaker being so disgusted by a smell that it made him sick. They knew it had to be bad for that to happen. After they had calmed down, they sat back up, wiping tears from their eyes. He moved behind her again and picked up the comb. There were no tangles left, but he wanted any excuse he could to keep touching her.

“I finally told the twins enough was enough. After all, Ron hadn’t really hurt anything other than my pride.”

“Ah, but for a Gryffindor such as yourself, that could be fatal,” Draco said with a mock wise nod of his head.

“That is was they said,” she looked over at him. “But they finally agreed to let him go, after they had a long talk to him about being careful of a woman’s feelings.”

“Especially a woman that obviously means so much to the two of them,” Draco said, absently playing with one of her curls. “So, um. Are you, like, dating both of them; or, um, just one, or, um?”

She turned around slowly to sit facing him, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. He let out a small groan and closed his eyes. He could feel his face burning as he just sat there, not believing he asked her that. And he stuttered when he did it too. Smooth Malfoy, he thought, real smooth.

“Draco,” she said putting her hand on his knee, “Fred and George are gay. I‘m not dating anyone.”

His eyes flew open. He knew his mouth was moving; but there was no sound coming forth. He probably looked like a carp. He blinked a couple times, trying desperately to get his brain to engage. But all he could think was that he had a chance. She was still looking at him, staring into his eyes with a soft little smile on her face; and he still couldn’t speak.

She just shook her head at him and said, “Draco, you are going to hurt yourself. Now, quit trying to think and just kiss me already.”

Kiss her? He replayed what she said. Yeah, he thought, I can do that. Leaning forward, he placed a hand on either side of her face and, not closing his eyes, touched his lips to hers. It was soft and warm and gentle. It spoke of feelings as yet unsaid and vows yet to be made. It lasted only a moment and held a lifetime of promise. When he lifted his head, he knew that he would never let her go.

They spent the next while talking about everything and nothing, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. When she couldn’t stifle her yawns anymore, they decided to turn in.

“You can have the bed,” Draco told her, moving to the wardrobe to get another blanket. “I’ll be good in the chair.”

“You don’t have to sleep in the chair, Draco,” Hermione pulled him toward the bed.

As they sat down on the bed, Draco said, “I was so hoping you would say that.” He smiled and asked, “Do you need me to check for monsters under the bed?”

“Um, about that,” she began, looking up at him with an odd little gleam in her eye. “I’m not afraid of monsters, or the dark, or psycho killers. I actually love scary stories and movies and books and places and everything. I even spent my last birthday in Dracula’s Castle, thanks to Charlie and his wife," She was babbling, she knew; but couldn't seem to stop. "Anyway, all those stories tonight, they came from me. I told them what stories to tell and how to tell them. I even told Neville to send me over to sit with you. Although the carrying me and dropping me on your lap was a complete improvisation on his part.” She watched as the realization that the whole evening had been a setup sank in. Now that she had confessed, she was looking at him a little nervously.

“You set this up,” he said, looking down at her. “As a joke?”

“No, Draco,” she rushed to explain, before he could get the wrong idea. “It was definitely not a joke. I wanted to, well, be with you and I knew the direct approach wouldn’t work. You would be too quick to think I had ulterior motives. I knew that the only way to get a Slytherin, was to think like a Slytherin.”

He slid back onto the bed until he was lying against the pillows, pulling her with him and wrapping his arms around her. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he settled her on his shoulder. She knew then that she won.

“You thought like a Slytherin,” he asked in disbelief. “You? Gryffindor’s Princess?”

“Well, not exactly,” she said. “I had some help with the whole plan.”

“Let me guess,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Fred and George.”

“Oh, please,” she smirked. “They are more Gryffindor that me! Are we okay?”

“We are more than okay, Granger,” he kissed her. “We are going to live happily ever after.”

“I like those stories the best,” she smiled up at him.

“So, if you didn’t get help from Fred and George, who did help you?” he asked.

“I asked their boyfriend. He’s pure Slytherin, through and through,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Really?” Draco asked, not surprised that they shared one boyfriend, but a little stunned that he is a Slytherin. “Who is he?”

“Severus.”

~The End~

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I hope you all like this. I wrote this story for my daughter, so there is no smut involved - She may be an adult, but...so not going there! :) She loves Draco Malfoy. Actually, she just has a thing for blonde men; says it is my fault for listening to Billy Idol while I was pregnant. She is also a huge horror movie fan, even though I can‘t stand the things. My real life is scary enough, thank you very much. She wanted a Halloween story that combined both, I hope I delivered. Let me know what you think.