Count the stars.
“Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…”
“You skipped one.”
“What?”
“That star, there. You forgot to count that one.”
“How the hell can you tell which star I’m pointing at, Malfoy?”
“I’ve told you, Ginny. I am a Malfoy- I know everything.”
“Really. Well, that would mean that you know what this means.”
“Manners, Weasley, manners.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And your mother has raised such a nice, respectable, gracious young lady- I’m amazed.”
“I’ll tell Ron you sent him the compliment.”
“You know what? Here. I’ll show you where you messed up. So, you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-nine.”
“Your point, Draco, my hair is turning gray.”
“And then you skipped that one and said the next one was eighty.”
“I did not, you dolt, I- oh. Dammit.”
“Malfoys are never wrong Weasley. You should know that by now.”
“Oh, please. Go find the tallest cliff you can and jump off it.”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice.”
“I am not a very nice person, Malfoy. Surely even with your limited intelligence you were able to discern that.”
“You wound me.”
“That was the point.”
“…”
“What, Malfoy? Stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re always so angry.”
“What?”
“The way you speak- it’s like you always have this pent up aggression and anger inside.”
“I do not. What, just yesterday you were complaining because you said I was too bouncy and cheery all the time.”
“Well, you are.”
“How in the world can I be both cheery and angry all the time?”
“Maybe not so cheery. More like, hyperactive. Yes, that’s it. You are an angry, bouncy child with too much energy.”
“Hmm, a child with pent up aggression and a tiny attention span- you’re making me sound like a sociopath waiting to happen.”
“Not my intentions, but if I think about it, that might not be too far off the mark…”
“Hilarious, Malfoy.
“It’s true.”
“What’s with the sudden character analysis?”
“I don’t really know- it’s just that…you’re just always so bubbly.”
“Hyperactive, I know. And also, angry. We’ve been here before, Draco, I recognize that tree stump.”
“Does it cackle?”
“What?”
“You said that you- ok, never mind. We’ll only get sidetracked.”
“That does tend to happen in our conversations, yes. Myself, I tend to blame you and your inability to maintain interest in anything other than a scantily clad witch but-”
“You know, that is something you could remedy quite easily.”
“What, your annoying male tendencies?”
“No, the lack of scantily clad witches.”
“Bugger off, Malfoy, and stop hitting on me.”
“I should’ve known better than to waste a perfectly good pick-up line on you, Weasley.”
“Yes, you should have. And what were we talking about before this? It was like…oh yes, you were about to insult me.”
“No, not insult, just trying to understand you.”
“Telling me that I’m an angry, hyperactive sociopath isn’t insulting me?”
“No, seriously Ginny, let me try and get this out. It’s like…you’re always doing something. Or when you’re in a conversation, you always having something to say back.”
“That trait tends to be beneficial in a conversation, yes.”
“But you always just have something quick and witty to snap back at the person, you know? It’s like…you say something to make them laugh and distract them from looking at you too directly. Just like how you’re always busy and rushing around, so no one is able to pay close attention to you,”
“My, my, aren’t we the little psychiatrist.”
“See? Just like that! You always have some sort of sarcastic, biting comment- which is why I called you angry and-”
“Well, isn’t this a riot. Draco Malfoy telling me that I’m the one who is always being sarcastic and snarky. Why, hello Pot, aren’t you looking black today.”
“I told you, Ginny, I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just trying to, well, actually I have no idea what I’m trying to say. It just seems like you’re trying to hide something, that’s all.”
“If I was trying to hide something, you would be the first to know- I talk to you practically every day.”
“I know, but-”
“Will you just stop? I hate being subject to these pesky little psychoanalyses. My mother’s been piling them on me every time I come home for the past year, and I do not need you, of all people, to start on me too, alright?”
“Why this past year?”
“What?”
“You said that she's been bothering you about this for the past year- why?”
“Oh…well, she started when me and Harry broke up.”
“But that was forever ago. She’s still bugging you?”
“I don’t know- well, actually I do but- ugh, alright, so she has this insane little theory.”
“That you’re still in love with Harry?”
“No! Well, I mean, yes, that is her theory, but I don’t-”
“Yes, yes, I know, the two of you were too perfect, it never would have worked out, you’re over him now, blah blah blah.”
“I do not appreciate being patronized, Malfoy.”
“You know what I think? I think your mother’s right.”
“What? That’s preposter-”
“Yes, in fact, I’m certain. You still love Harry, and that’s the thing you’re always trying to cover up with your insane behavior.”
“Malfoy, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I think I do.”
“You know what? You’re just an arrogant little-”
“And now you’re doing that thing where you insult me, in order to distract the attention away from yourself.”
“What? I am not!”
“Liar.”
“Look, I can’t help it if you’re just a snooty bastard who-”
“And there you go again.”
“What? Draco, you are- alright, never mind. Just- just, drop it, ok?”
“Drop what?”
“This! Your deconstruction of my psyche and my behavior and my nonexistent residual feelings for Harry, it’s…it’s annoying, ok? So just, stop it.”
“Alright.”
“…”
“I didn’t mean to get you upset, it’s just something I noticed.”
“Malfoy, since when have you noticed anything.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, you’re Draco Malfoy! The prat who never socializes with anyone below his social circle and just smirks at the entire world, never saying anything, and-”
“First off, Weasley, I am definitely socializing ‘below my social circle’ right now, seeing as how I’m outside, lying in the damned grass next to you, because you somehow got the insipid idea to spend the night trying to count the bloody stars- which, by the way, is not possible- instead of doing something civilized like going to eat in an actual restaurant where people actually sit in a chair instead of sprawling across the grass and probably getting lice and-”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, you’re not that person anymore. Shut up already.”
“Thank you. And just so you know, when I’m doing all that silent ‘smirking’ at other people, I do tend to observe a couple things. Especially things about people and why they act the way they do.”
“And now we’re getting close to that topic that we’re not talking about, so let’s change the subject now.”
“Fine.”
“…”
“You know, I’ve never seen a shooting star.”
“What?”
“I’ve never seen a shooting star. What are you now, deaf?”
“Stop talking please. I heard you- I just didn’t believe it. You never saw one, not even in Astronomy?”
“I might have seen one if I ever paid attention in Astronomy.”
“You never paid attention? But you got an O on your O.W.L.!”
“I’m named after a constellation, Weasley, and my family is obsessed with two things- the purity of our bloodline and the stars. I probably could’ve passed that exam when I was six.”
“Oh, right…so which one’s yours?”
“Which star?”
“No, constellation. What one’s the Draco constellation?”
“Shouldn’t you know this too? I distinctly remember Sinistra teaching this to us, because I remember her saying 'Draco' constantly and thinking I was getting in trouble every time."
“My attention tended to wander during Astronomy classes too.”
“Really? Why?”
“If I told you, you’d laugh at me.”
“No, I really want to know.”
“No laughing?”
“Promise.”
“Alright, well…I was always trying to count the stars.”
“…Seriously, Weasley?”
“What? It’s possible, I swear. But I’d always end up losing count around two hundred and have to start over.”
“It can’t be done, Weasley. You can’t even see all the stars in the sky at one time- it changes with the seasons. And-”
“I know, I know. But just because it’s impossible doesn’t mean I can’t keep trying.”
“Well, actually, it does.”
“Not true. It used to be said that it was impossible for a Weasley and a Malfoy to be friends, and now look.”
“But we just kind of…happened.”
“Right. And one of these days, I will just happen to count all the stars in the sky.”
“You are out of your mind.”
“Right you are. You still haven’t showed me Draco.”
“Right. So it’s right….there. No, there. Under the Little Dipper, that curve of stars that kind of looks like a squiggly N.”
“What a professional description.”
“Well, I’ve never had to describe it before. Most people know already.”
“So that’s what you’re named for? A bunch of stars in the shape of a squiggly N?”
“Well, technically I’m named for the hundred-headed dragon that guarded the gods' golden apples and that was cast into the stars- hence the constellation.”
“Isn’t there another myth of the Draco constellation? From the Arabians?”
“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar. I remember Sinistra babbling about it- something about a mother elephant or a llama or a- a camel! That’s what you are! The Arabic nomads thought the Draco constellation was a ring of camels surrounding a baby one, protecting it from vultures or something.”
“Hyenas.”
“Right, hyenas. So your great namesake, Draco Malfoy, is a family of camels and some ravenous hyenas. Congratulations.”
“Oh, be quiet. I am a magnificent camel.”
“Can’t argue with you there, Draco.”
“You know, I cannot believe that I voluntarily chose to spend my evening in the company of idiots.”
“Not a company, Draco, just one. And this idiot is the idiot who baked you those cookies you’ve been shoving in your mouth all night.”
“Your point?”
“It was a deal, Malfoy. You get cookies- I get help counting the stars. Now shut up and start counting.”
“…”
“Draco?”
“…One….two…three…”
“Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…”
“You skipped one.”
“What?”
“That star, there. You forgot to count that one.”
“How the hell can you tell which star I’m pointing at, Malfoy?”
“I’ve told you, Ginny. I am a Malfoy- I know everything.”
“Really. Well, that would mean that you know what this means.”
“Manners, Weasley, manners.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And your mother has raised such a nice, respectable, gracious young lady- I’m amazed.”
“I’ll tell Ron you sent him the compliment.”
“You know what? Here. I’ll show you where you messed up. So, you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-nine.”
“Your point, Draco, my hair is turning gray.”
“And then you skipped that one and said the next one was eighty.”
“I did not, you dolt, I- oh. Dammit.”
“Malfoys are never wrong Weasley. You should know that by now.”
“Oh, please. Go find the tallest cliff you can and jump off it.”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice.”
“I am not a very nice person, Malfoy. Surely even with your limited intelligence you were able to discern that.”
“You wound me.”
“That was the point.”
“…”
“What, Malfoy? Stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re always so angry.”
“What?”
“The way you speak- it’s like you always have this pent up aggression and anger inside.”
“I do not. What, just yesterday you were complaining because you said I was too bouncy and cheery all the time.”
“Well, you are.”
“How in the world can I be both cheery and angry all the time?”
“Maybe not so cheery. More like, hyperactive. Yes, that’s it. You are an angry, bouncy child with too much energy.”
“Hmm, a child with pent up aggression and a tiny attention span- you’re making me sound like a sociopath waiting to happen.”
“Not my intentions, but if I think about it, that might not be too far off the mark…”
“Hilarious, Malfoy.
“It’s true.”
“What’s with the sudden character analysis?”
“I don’t really know- it’s just that…you’re just always so bubbly.”
“Hyperactive, I know. And also, angry. We’ve been here before, Draco, I recognize that tree stump.”
“Does it cackle?”
“What?”
“You said that you- ok, never mind. We’ll only get sidetracked.”
“That does tend to happen in our conversations, yes. Myself, I tend to blame you and your inability to maintain interest in anything other than a scantily clad witch but-”
“You know, that is something you could remedy quite easily.”
“What, your annoying male tendencies?”
“No, the lack of scantily clad witches.”
“Bugger off, Malfoy, and stop hitting on me.”
“I should’ve known better than to waste a perfectly good pick-up line on you, Weasley.”
“Yes, you should have. And what were we talking about before this? It was like…oh yes, you were about to insult me.”
“No, not insult, just trying to understand you.”
“Telling me that I’m an angry, hyperactive sociopath isn’t insulting me?”
“No, seriously Ginny, let me try and get this out. It’s like…you’re always doing something. Or when you’re in a conversation, you always having something to say back.”
“That trait tends to be beneficial in a conversation, yes.”
“But you always just have something quick and witty to snap back at the person, you know? It’s like…you say something to make them laugh and distract them from looking at you too directly. Just like how you’re always busy and rushing around, so no one is able to pay close attention to you,”
“My, my, aren’t we the little psychiatrist.”
“See? Just like that! You always have some sort of sarcastic, biting comment- which is why I called you angry and-”
“Well, isn’t this a riot. Draco Malfoy telling me that I’m the one who is always being sarcastic and snarky. Why, hello Pot, aren’t you looking black today.”
“I told you, Ginny, I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just trying to, well, actually I have no idea what I’m trying to say. It just seems like you’re trying to hide something, that’s all.”
“If I was trying to hide something, you would be the first to know- I talk to you practically every day.”
“I know, but-”
“Will you just stop? I hate being subject to these pesky little psychoanalyses. My mother’s been piling them on me every time I come home for the past year, and I do not need you, of all people, to start on me too, alright?”
“Why this past year?”
“What?”
“You said that she's been bothering you about this for the past year- why?”
“Oh…well, she started when me and Harry broke up.”
“But that was forever ago. She’s still bugging you?”
“I don’t know- well, actually I do but- ugh, alright, so she has this insane little theory.”
“That you’re still in love with Harry?”
“No! Well, I mean, yes, that is her theory, but I don’t-”
“Yes, yes, I know, the two of you were too perfect, it never would have worked out, you’re over him now, blah blah blah.”
“I do not appreciate being patronized, Malfoy.”
“You know what I think? I think your mother’s right.”
“What? That’s preposter-”
“Yes, in fact, I’m certain. You still love Harry, and that’s the thing you’re always trying to cover up with your insane behavior.”
“Malfoy, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I think I do.”
“You know what? You’re just an arrogant little-”
“And now you’re doing that thing where you insult me, in order to distract the attention away from yourself.”
“What? I am not!”
“Liar.”
“Look, I can’t help it if you’re just a snooty bastard who-”
“And there you go again.”
“What? Draco, you are- alright, never mind. Just- just, drop it, ok?”
“Drop what?”
“This! Your deconstruction of my psyche and my behavior and my nonexistent residual feelings for Harry, it’s…it’s annoying, ok? So just, stop it.”
“Alright.”
“…”
“I didn’t mean to get you upset, it’s just something I noticed.”
“Malfoy, since when have you noticed anything.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, you’re Draco Malfoy! The prat who never socializes with anyone below his social circle and just smirks at the entire world, never saying anything, and-”
“First off, Weasley, I am definitely socializing ‘below my social circle’ right now, seeing as how I’m outside, lying in the damned grass next to you, because you somehow got the insipid idea to spend the night trying to count the bloody stars- which, by the way, is not possible- instead of doing something civilized like going to eat in an actual restaurant where people actually sit in a chair instead of sprawling across the grass and probably getting lice and-”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, you’re not that person anymore. Shut up already.”
“Thank you. And just so you know, when I’m doing all that silent ‘smirking’ at other people, I do tend to observe a couple things. Especially things about people and why they act the way they do.”
“And now we’re getting close to that topic that we’re not talking about, so let’s change the subject now.”
“Fine.”
“…”
“You know, I’ve never seen a shooting star.”
“What?”
“I’ve never seen a shooting star. What are you now, deaf?”
“Stop talking please. I heard you- I just didn’t believe it. You never saw one, not even in Astronomy?”
“I might have seen one if I ever paid attention in Astronomy.”
“You never paid attention? But you got an O on your O.W.L.!”
“I’m named after a constellation, Weasley, and my family is obsessed with two things- the purity of our bloodline and the stars. I probably could’ve passed that exam when I was six.”
“Oh, right…so which one’s yours?”
“Which star?”
“No, constellation. What one’s the Draco constellation?”
“Shouldn’t you know this too? I distinctly remember Sinistra teaching this to us, because I remember her saying 'Draco' constantly and thinking I was getting in trouble every time."
“My attention tended to wander during Astronomy classes too.”
“Really? Why?”
“If I told you, you’d laugh at me.”
“No, I really want to know.”
“No laughing?”
“Promise.”
“Alright, well…I was always trying to count the stars.”
“…Seriously, Weasley?”
“What? It’s possible, I swear. But I’d always end up losing count around two hundred and have to start over.”
“It can’t be done, Weasley. You can’t even see all the stars in the sky at one time- it changes with the seasons. And-”
“I know, I know. But just because it’s impossible doesn’t mean I can’t keep trying.”
“Well, actually, it does.”
“Not true. It used to be said that it was impossible for a Weasley and a Malfoy to be friends, and now look.”
“But we just kind of…happened.”
“Right. And one of these days, I will just happen to count all the stars in the sky.”
“You are out of your mind.”
“Right you are. You still haven’t showed me Draco.”
“Right. So it’s right….there. No, there. Under the Little Dipper, that curve of stars that kind of looks like a squiggly N.”
“What a professional description.”
“Well, I’ve never had to describe it before. Most people know already.”
“So that’s what you’re named for? A bunch of stars in the shape of a squiggly N?”
“Well, technically I’m named for the hundred-headed dragon that guarded the gods' golden apples and that was cast into the stars- hence the constellation.”
“Isn’t there another myth of the Draco constellation? From the Arabians?”
“…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar. I remember Sinistra babbling about it- something about a mother elephant or a llama or a- a camel! That’s what you are! The Arabic nomads thought the Draco constellation was a ring of camels surrounding a baby one, protecting it from vultures or something.”
“Hyenas.”
“Right, hyenas. So your great namesake, Draco Malfoy, is a family of camels and some ravenous hyenas. Congratulations.”
“Oh, be quiet. I am a magnificent camel.”
“Can’t argue with you there, Draco.”
“You know, I cannot believe that I voluntarily chose to spend my evening in the company of idiots.”
“Not a company, Draco, just one. And this idiot is the idiot who baked you those cookies you’ve been shoving in your mouth all night.”
“Your point?”
“It was a deal, Malfoy. You get cookies- I get help counting the stars. Now shut up and start counting.”
“…”
“Draco?”
“…One….two…three…”
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