The Ravenclaw looked up with teary-eyes and the most pathetic expression. âI-I, Iâve been trying this stupid riddle for ten. Fucking. Minutes. I donât know what to do!â
âLanguage.â Draco half-muttered, nearly making Harry roll his eyes at the way Draco sounded exactly like Remus.
He gave the girl a small smile. âIâm sure we can figure it out.â He encouraged, looking over to the door. âWhatâs the riddle?â
The doorknocker slowly came to life, which wasnât what Harry had expected. For some reason, he thought it was the door who spoke the riddle. Furthering his surprise, the voice the knocker spoke in was somewhat eerie though melodic.
âWhat lies between order and chaos,
yet belongs to neither?
Not silence, nor sound,
nor thought, nor action.â
Dracoâs eyes slowly squinted as his head tilted forward, looking down at the knocker with the most insulted expression Harry had ever seen him wear. âAnd what could that possibly mean?â
Harry gave a small snort of laughter. âFuck if I know.â
âYouâve said bad words before.â He muttered to his fellow prefect.
âPrivately.â He whispered back before letting out a huff and returning to the riddle. His features flickered in their positioning on his face, somehow growing more and more offended and exasperated. âI- i- uh,â he gave a vague hand motion as if to hurry himself along and think faster, ânot silence or sound, not thought or action. Nothing, itâs nothing.â
But Harry only frowned. âItâs got to be something. Thereâs far better riddles to get to ânothingâ as the answer.â
âFine,â he thought another second, sighing, âpotential ⊠inertia ⊠suspense?â
Between all his huffing and puffing and sighing, Harry wondered if Draco was getting close to breaking some sort of record for exasperated dramatics. But yet again, something about it also held a grace. As if it werenât, in fact, overdramatic. As if the outrage was completely justified. As if, perhaps, Harry was the crazy one for not feeling just as exasperated as him.
âI tried those.â The Ravenclaw girl mumbled.
Harry looked down with a sympathetic smile, trying not to seem too amused by the situation as she seemed clearly upset. âAnd what else did you try, lovey?â
âStalemate and equilibrium.â
âGood answers.â Though it was undercut by Draco murmuring, âNot good enough, apparently.â Though the ire was directed at the knocker and not the girl.
Really, Harry agreed. They were pretty solid answers.
The Sphinx in the third task last year really cemented for Harry that he wasnât good at riddles. He could figure people out, he could read subtext, he could work his way through a conversation or a fight just the same. But a riddle wasnât nearly as solid. It wasnât real. Wasnât observable or malleable. He couldnât touch it and he couldnât change it. Really, it was a lucky guess no doubt brought on by the rune for luck in his shoe. So he didnât even bother trying to answer the riddle.
âInstinct!â Draco suddenly shouted.
They all stared at the knocker, waiting.
A quick shift of his legs told Harry that the blond just barely held back from kicking the door.
Frankly, he wished he did.
âI canât do this.â The girlâs breathing began to pick up. âI-I just ⊠I donât think Iâm smart enough for Ravenclaw.â
âLovey, no.â Harry held onto the wall and gently squatted to her level. Face tightened immediately. He dropped to his knees. Pain shot through his thigh and he took a deep breath to try and hold back any reaction. Squatting was a mistake. A big mistake. Knees were fine. He just had to breathe through the pain. âBetween you and me, the doorâs a pretentious git.â He then leaned in and whispered, âThankfully, Malfoyâs an even bigger one.â
The girl broke into a wide smile, giggling.
âDo you have any other idea what it might be?â He gently asked, trying to shift as casually as possible on his knees to relieve some of the pain. He briefly wondered if âdoubtâ could make for a good answer, but decided to wait for her to try again.
âI- ⊠maybe. I dunno.â She shrugged. Still frustrated, but calmer. âI thought maybe ⊠breath?â
He furrowed his eyebrows. âBreath?â
âWell yea, like ⊠like baited breath, maybe? Itâs not silence or sound. Not thought or action. But itâs sort of between. Itâs something. But not a thing. It just ⊠well it just is.â
He grinned at her. âThatâs a really good ans-â
All three stared at the door as it swung open.
There was a momentâs pause. Disbelief, almost.
Draco stared a moment longer before rapidly blinking and once more addressing the knocker, this time with an accusingly pointed finger. âI- w-, hold on! How was that right?!â
âAny answer can be correct, if reasoned well.â
Draco almost definitely would have kicked the door if not for the girl grabbing her bag and running inside as the door began to shut.
âThank you!â She called, waving.
Harry looked up to the blond who still stood there, jaw dropped. âYou alright?â
âAll I had to do was explain myself.â He took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. It didnât work. âIâm going to hex the door.â
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57911521/chapters/169052422