When Harry and Ron arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room, they found Black standing in a corner.
"What are you doing here?!" Ron shouted across the room. "Come on! We will miss the class!"
Harry squinted his eyes at Black.
In these days, the boys had clearly become close enough to pick up on the subtle things about each other.
First, it was how stupidly Black was standing, stuck to the wall in the corner.
Second, it was the small smile on his lips as if he was about to throw Scabbers out of the train again.
Third, it was Black; of course, he was up to something.
Two things happened suddenly, then.
From the dormitory, Draco descended, panicking.
He had borrowed his sister's notes on potions to look cool in front of Snape and regain some dignity and favor that he had lost by becoming a Gryffindor.
While having breakfast Draco remembered he had completely forgotten to even look at those notes, though. So he had returned to have the quickest look at them.
From across the room, Ron stepped toward Black, reaching the center of the room. He also pulled a skeptical Harry along with him, whose heart had begun thumping seeing Black's widening smile.
Coincidentally, Harry, Ron, and Draco were all in the same room being looked at by Black as if he was about to watch the greatest drama.
Before Draco could take off his twisted frown from Harry's face, Black opened his mouth. "Ron!" he shouted, jolting Draco who hadn't seen him in the corner. "Do you like Darcie?!"
Ron and Draco's bodies went into shock, refusing to budge from their places.
The red-haired boy just gawked at Black at first in sheer disbelief. He didn't even know what to say.
Or… perhaps, he did; because, in the very next moment, Ron's mouth began moving, uttering out the truest words.
"Have you gone mad?!" Ron said, unable to control what he was saying. "Who's gonna marry her?!"
Shocked at what he just said, Ron slammed a palm on his mouth.
Draco had gone blue in anger. He wanted to curse, taking out his wand. Before he could chant anything, though, his words also twisted. "There's no man who even deserves to lick her shoes, you red-haired gremlin!"
The young Malfoy's blue face became red as blood rose to his cheeks.
Harry couldn't hold his laugh, though he never intended to laugh at all. "Haha!" he snorted, holding his glasses. "Darcie this, Darcie that. I have met her. She's like a statue. Just a very good at playing the part of a girl, I guess."
Ron's eyes widened at Harry, who had also slammed his hand on his mouth.
Veins were pulsing on Draco's head now, his teeth making an audible grinding noise.
It was then they remembered that they weren't the only three who were in the Common Room. Silently, they turned their heads to look at the source of this untimely feud.
Black's smile had widened enough to reach his ears. "What should I ask now?"
"NO!" the three Gryffindors shouted together.
"What's happening?!" Ron asked, shocked.
Black shrugged mischievously. "I was getting bored," he told the truth, leaning on the two walls meeting at the corner. No matter how much he relied on his Facelessness, even he couldn't lie, it seemed. "And suddenly, it was as if a great demon cast a magic… We can't lie in this Room anymore."
"What?!"
Harry and Draco thought aloud.
They shared a gaze and instantly looked away.
"Say," Black said, smiling, making the hair on the back of Ron, Harry, and Draco's necks stand up, "how many scars do you guys have?"
Draco snapped his head back toward Black so fast that his vision went black for a moment.
Ron vomited out first. "I got three." Scabbers had bitten him twice in the last week.
"I got four," Harry said, disbelief coursing through his green eyes. It had been so long since Dudley had injured him. He could swear he didn't even know how many scars he had on his body right now.
Standing opposite Harry and Ron, Draco's face paled.
He was shaking so much that it felt like he was holding the grandest fart.
Ultimately, the imposed Rule — When asked, you must answer with the Truth — won the battle of wills.
"Eighty… One!" Draco fell to his knees, huffing and puffing.
Standing over him, Harry and Ron looked at the slick-haired boy with the widest gaze possible.
Silence.
…
"Alright," the voice jolted them out of the shock. "Let's go."
Harry and Ron looked up, but Black had vanished from where he had been glued to. They looked around and found him standing at the entrance to the Common Room, yawning.
Draco crossed the room with large strides and grabbed Black's collars. "You filthy…"
"Say, do you…" Black drawled, grinning.
Draco let go of Black's robes so fast as if a snake had bitten him. However, he suddenly realized the Mudblood had made a fool of him. Once again. He crumpled the notes between his fists and marched away, cursing in the foulest language possible.
Black adjusted his uniform and smiled at Ron and Harry as they approached him.
"It's bloody brilliant!" Ron said, despite the obvious fear and shock lingering on his face. "Was it you?!"
Harry didn't know what to say anymore.
Black scoffed. "I can't do this magic even if Professor Dumbledore gifted me his wand," he jested. "Must be some senior, I guess." As he was technically out of the House Common Room, the Rule didn't force him to utter the truth anymore.
"Merlin's beard!" Ron suddenly shouted, holding his head. "We are late!"
The boys ran through the corridors, with Ron taking the lead, their shoes making the wizards and witches in the posters put their hands on their ears.
"Eighty One…" Harry mumbled, remembering the answer.
Black looked at the short boy and laughed. "Rich people have weird taste, you know."
Harry's lips twitched at the obvious joke. Suddenly, he realized something. "Wait," he said, huffing as he ran. "How did you figure out you can't lie when you were the only one there…"
Instead of replying, Black fastened his pace, leaving even Ron behind. "Whoever comes last, likes Darcie!"
Harry ran faster involuntarily, laughing with Ron. One thing was clear to Harry, though.
Behind Black's nonchalant and goofy behavior, hid the smartest boy he had ever met.
…
When they reached the Potion's classroom, they found a crowd of students waiting for them.
"Wha… What's going on?" Harry asked, catching his breath.
Black and Ron were standing on their toes to look beyond the heads, but couldn't make sense of it, either.
Suddenly, Ron spied a black speck becoming bigger and bigger at the other end of the corridor.
"He's here!" Ron hissed.
So, not waiting to ask around anymore, the three scooted their way through the crowd and entered the classroom, randomly sitting somewhere in the middle.
On their left, there was a listless Draco, lost in his thoughts, with Crabbe and Goyle.
On their right, Daphne and Hermione sat together, eying the three of them with questioning eyes.
And just as they sat, letting out a relaxed breath, their eyes fell on the person standing on the platform in front of the students.
Darcie Malfoy, the third-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, looked at Harry, Ron, and Black with the flattest stare.
Suddenly, the classroom's doors opened with a bang, followed by an angry, hissing snap.
Professor Snape, the Potions Master, had finally arrived, and the main storyline finally entered the major stage of the timeline.
**************
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