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March Madness: Fandoms #5
Umbrella Academy
Harry Potter
To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 29
Rating: M Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: None
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
MY MASTER-LIST
The authentic Alastor Moody watched in his night robes. He sat on the floor at the edge of the inside of the wooden chest. The man sat with his arms crossed over his chest. The only thing probably worse than being unwillingly locked inside of a trunk was being locked inside of a trunk with a teenager.
An angry one at that.
He then watched the student run against the wall with a rageful scream and tackle it down with her shoulder. She slid down the wall painfully heaving before rising, stumbling back, and trying again. He guessed her shoulder was probably wounded by now, if not a couple of strikes away from being dislocated.
“Give it up, kid,” He called from his corner. “It’s useless. The only way out is in,” He said pessimistically.
“I’m not giving up!” She grunted with pain. “I’m not giving up. I’m getting out of here-“ She heaved furiously, looking up at the unending darkness above the two. “There has to be another way out…” She said more to herself.
“Who-“ Her dark eyes moved from a nonexistent exit back to the Auror’s. “Who was that? If you’re Moody then, who-?” she was frustrated at her loss of words.
“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Alastor sat up and uncrossed his arms. He would’ve walked if he could, but Crouch had his leg. “Most unpleasant slimeball. Scum of the scum that walks this Earth. Death Eater and loyal to You-Know-Who until the end. Caught me slippin’ in my retirement,” Moody finished his sentence by cursing words Nel hadn’t even heard before. The trunk was pitch black. She couldn’t see just how filthy the man was with unkempt hair and a growing beard from being locked in here so long.
He also couldn’t distinguish the features of the Slytherin.
If he could’ve been immediately able to distinguish just who he was in the room with.
“And what do they want with you?” He asked gruffly.
“The hell should I know. I’m just an orphan.”
If he could’ve seen the constellation in her face in the shape of Ophiuchus, he would’ve immediately known just who was locked inside of the trunk with him.
Harry Potter sat in the office of Professor Alastor Moody, crying. He was alone processing the events of the Third Task of the Tournament.
Cedric was dead.
Voldemort was back.
Nel was missing.
Probably dead too.
He had seen Cedric’s life flash before his eyes. The Dark Lord had touched him. Cursed his blood to be shared between the two. Everything had gone to hell. He pinched the bridge of his nose and remove his glasses to wipe his tears from his swollen eyes.
His head jolted up when Moody’s door slammed behind him as he entered the room. Startled, he looked at the Professor.
In the same room, inside of the chest, the missing student attentively listened to the conversation that Harry and Barty Crouch Jr. were having. It sounded muffled and distant. Words were inaudible beyond recognition, but the voices were clear.
“That sounds…” Nel said, pressing her ear against the wall. “It’s Moody-“ She looked back at the miserable man slumped in the corner. His silhouette was barely recognizable in the darkness. “Well- not you- and that’s- That’s got to be Harry!” She exclaimed.
“HELP!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “HELP!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. So loud her throat ached.
“It’s useless,” Moody grumbled.
“It’s not,” She croaked, keeping her eyes on the darkness above her. There had to be a way out. Most charmed objects have a way in or out in case their casters become trapped inside of them, but how would she get out without her wand?
“HELP!” She shouted desperately. Feeling the wall, she could feel the leather interior and, burying her nails into it attempted to climb it.
“Even if you do climb it, you’ll never get out. There’s a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and Merlin knows how many more trunks.” The retired Auror explained.
“I don’t care,” She spat, continuing to attempt her climb.
“I’ll claw through the walls if I have to,” She said determinedly.
Climbing two steps up, she lost her grip and collapsed on the floor.
“Told ya,” Moody said snidely.
“I don’t care!” She shouted angrily, removing one of her shoes and tossing it against the wall. “I won’t let them get away with it!” She heaved, holding her other shoe in her hand. “I prefer death to whatever it is they’ll do to us.”
Holding the loafer in her hands, she looked at it intensely and focused. She needed something to climb to the top. She focused all of her energy on the old shoe. Closing her eyes, almost squashing it between her hands, moody looked at her oddly. Without a wand, it was harder to channel magic, but it wasn’t impossible.
A popping sound inside the barrel and an identical copy of the shoe appeared out of thin air.
Then another.
And another.
Followed by several more.
“What did you do?” Moody pressed his back against the wall as he heard the popping sound in the room and the thud the shoes would make when dropping to the ground.
“Uh-,” Nel stepped back, almost tripping over one of the hundreds of shoes on the ground. “I-I think I messed up,” She said, struggling as the shoes reached up to her knees.
“What did you do?!” Moody screamed in horror as he prepared to drown in a sea of multiplying shoes.
“I wanted to turn the shoe into a ladder, but I think I-“ She stumbled, trying to reach for the older man.
“Gemino Curse? You stupid girl!” He clung to her shoulder and hoisted himself up. “We will suffocate!”
Meanwhile outside.
“Harry, get away from there!” Dumbledore said, pushing Harry behind him and the other Hogwarts professors.
Moody and Nel were pressed up against the ceiling, slowly being crushed by the mountains of shoes.
“Out of all things you could multiply- you chose a pair of smelly shoes?” Moody grimaced at the way he was going out. Out of all the ways to die, this was probably the most undignified one.
“I thought I could climb the laced up!”
Just then, a bright light spilled into the inside of the trunk. Dozens of shoes spilled out of it, followed by a brown-haired teenager and the real and the Alastor Moody.
“Ms. Saintday! Alastor! Are you alright?” Dumbledore asked, stepping back.
Professor Snape stepped forward and picked up his student by the upper arm, pushing her behind him. With one quick look, the Slytherin determined she was shaken but otherwise looked unharmed. His glare was scolding, but there was some relief in his brown eyes.
“I’m sorry, Albus,” Mad-Eye lamented, dropping his head. “I’m just glad to be out of that hellish place.”
“Ms. Saintday,” McGonagall rushed to the student and took her face in her hold hands. “Are you alright?” She asked kindly.
Dumbledore kept his eye on Moody. Snape held his wand raised and pointed at the impostor.
The young Slytherin nodded weakly and, looking past the Gryffindor professor, seethed when looking at the disfigured man that was once again morphing into somebody else across the room. Crouch twitched relentlessly, making strange noises as he did. Nel didn’t even hear what Harry said to her when he stood beside her.
The impostor’s eyepiece fell to the wooden floor and continued to twitch in every direction as Barty Crouch Junior revealed himself.
“Seems like we now know who’s been raiding your pantry for Polyjuice potion, Severus,” Dumbledore said.
“Son of a bitch,” Moody coughed. “Caught me off-guard.” The man pressed his back against the chest as he sat on the edge of the room.
Crouch reminded Elowen of a snake. A slithering creature with a darting tongue who hissed when threatened.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a skull and snake marking on his arm. The man began cackling. The mark on his arm danced, and its dark pigment shined in the dim light.
“The Dark Mark.”
‘What was that horrible thing?’
Harry flinched, bringing a hand to his forehead at the immediate pain he felt. He didn’t need to have this explained. It was his mark. He felt the same pain he had as when Voldemort had laid his hand on him.
“Your arm Harry,” Dumbledore reached for the Chosen One’s arm. Looking down at her arm. Elowen felt the need to hide it. Crouch had sliced her arm in the same place where he had the mark. She didn’t want to know what type of ill omen this was.
“You know what this means don’t you?” Crouch began. His lip curled into a malicious sneer. “He’s back,” He flipped a hair from his forehead. “Lord Voldemort has returned.”
His words rang loudly, and the air in the room suddenly felt heavy at the horrid revelation. Crouch’s beady eyes focused on the girl’s.
“And he’s come back for what’s rightful his,” he threatened.
Nel flinched, shrinking slightly. Without a second thought, Snape stood between the two, blocking sight of his student. From behind, Moody looked at the girl’s dirty face. He thought he could recognize a peculiar curse mark on her features.
“You took me!” Elowen sidestepped around Snape. “You locked me up!” Boldly or very foolishly, the girl stepped towards the man. Professor McGonagall held her back, failing as the girl slipped from her gentle grip. Harry’s reach and grasp was stronger as he held her back with his hands on her shoulders. “Both you and Ellar Lestrange!” She shook Harry’s grip off. Dumbledore observed the scene. His twinkling eyes were waiting for something unexpected to happen anything. Regardless the Headmaster did not move.
“The two of you assaulted, attacked and… then you,” She grew silent. Unaware of the vile intentions the two men held.
Crouch cackled madly, and the Slytherin felt her anger begin to boil. She wanted to hurt Crouch. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Tie him to a chair, stand above him and terrify him until he pissed himself. Maybe set him on fire.
The feeling of being powerless. Elowen felt as if she’d hit a wall. She was powerless against him, against the Lestranges, and against Cordelia Wool.
It was humiliating. Harry’s grip loosened around his friend, and he gave her an odd look.
“Lestrange?” McGonagall asked.
“Bastard,” Mad-Eye cough. It didn’t matter which one she was referring to. All the Lestranges were equally rotten in his eyes. Pureblood scum.
“Yes,” Nel answered quickly. “Ellar Lestrange,” She wanted them to know his name. “Former student. He killed Simon Kominsky. He’s been in on the plan with Crouch the whole time.”
Dumbledore didn’t question her this time.
“Send an owl to Azkaban,” He said to McGonagall. “I think they’ll find they’re missing a prisoner or two.”
Instead of looking intimidated, Crouch beamed with pride. “I’ll be welcomed back like a hero.” He grinned, cherishing the moment.
“Pucker up, Barty. Dementors will be thrilled to see you,” Moody called.
Crouch seemed unfazed at Moody’s threat, and this filled Nel with rage. The son of a bitch even though he was above the law and death. Perhaps she didn’t have her magic, but she would always have her muscle.
“Not if I can help it!” She lunched forward, ready to bite, claw and strike Crouch. However, McGonagall pulled her back from the arm, scolding her. “Ms. Saintday!” She said, horrified. “Come along with me, Elowen,” She said to the barefoot teen. “We’ve got to take you to Madame Pomfrey at once,” She said, trying to usher her out of the room.
Crouch laughed loudly. “Ah! Go on, dead girl, strike me,” He cried out.
The Slytherin protested, looking over her shoulder. “I’m fine!” She raised her voice. “Completely and utterly fine!”
“Dead girl?” Moody said to himself, turning. He looked at Dumbledore oddly as the pieces all aligned in his head. Moody instantly knew just what was happening and who this child was. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was just what in the world was Albus planning...
Nel wanted to meet Snape’s eyes, but instead, the Professor lingered behind, stabbing his wand into Crouch’s twisted face. Hatred was reflected on the Slytherin’s eyes as he looked down at the vermin he was threading on. Moody remained behind.
Outside McGonagall wrapped an arm around the student’s shoulders as she led her away. She didn’t take her rudeness personally. The girl was clearly in a state of shock. Minerva was just relieved the situation hadn’t escalated. Losing one student in one day was one thing, but two?
Dumbledore exited the room with Harry. The Gryffindor looked over his shoulder, hoping that his friend would be looking back at him instead, her eyes were glued to the floor, and she walked in small steps as Professor McGonagall guided her to the Hospital Room.
Nel hadn’t thought of how long she had been gone. McGonagall looked overly concerned. Her eyebrows were turned up in worry. The Professor let out a small breath of relief as they made their way downstairs.
“Oh, Elowen. We were all so worried,” She spoke as she picked up her pace. “After what happened to that poor boy, we all thought you…” The Professor went silent.
“Thought what?” Nel asked sharply, looking at her concerned expression. She still couldn’t believe they had allowed this to happen. She had been missing for a day, or who knows how many hours, and nobody had come looking for her. Oh, but Harry. She thought bitterly. Looking back, the only reason they had found her, and Moody was probably because Harry was in a room and in danger. If he hadn’t been there… Only the stars know what would’ve happened. Looking over her shoulder, she realized Harry and Dumbledore were gone.
‘Fuck, if Harry went missing for a minute, the world would probably end.’
“Well,” McGonagall began with discomfort. “We thought you’d been killed dear,” she said gravely.
Elowen had no reaction to this. Yes, Ellar had killed people before. She had gotten really lucky this time. However, Simon hadn’t been that lucky…
“Maybe Simon can find some peace now,” She muttered absentmindedly thinking the older witch had been referring to the ghost in the Quidditch field.
She felt great relief after having confessed about Ellar’s abuse. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was grave enough, and she had heard what Dumbledore had said about Azkaban. This time consequences would be severe. There was no way the rat-faced git would be able to lawyer his way out of this one.
The two were walking by the Great Hall, nearing the Hospital room at this point. Who knew what time it was. It was night. The castle was dark except for the few torches that lit the school corridors.
“Nel,” The Professor began slowly, acknowledging her preferred name. She slowed down the pace to a halt. The Slytherin looked at her with confusion. She had never seen the Professor look so hesitant before speaking. Minerva measured her words with scrutiny and care. “There has been an accident,” She wanted to say. However, Cedric Diggory’s death had been no accident. McGonagall didn’t think the two had a relationship. Still, these things had to be handled carefully.
She placed a soft touch on the girl’s shoulder before delivering the hard news. “Cedric Diggory has passed,” she spoke in a gentle tone.
Nel’s dark eyes narrowed with further confusion. She then let out a small laugh. “Passed what?” She asked, perplexed, eyes lighting with excitement. She had even forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament. “Did he pass the final task? Did he win the Tournament?”
Or did Harry win? He hadn’t looked very elated when she saw him only a few moments ago. What had he even been doing in Moody’s office?
“No.” This time Professor McGonagall reached for both of her hands. She held them in hers and patted one lightly, “Dear, Cedric is dead.”
Nel was in denial. The news didn’t sink. Maybe she didn’t want them to. She pretended not to see the defeated look on McGonagall’s eyes or the somber edge to her voice. “Yeah, dead tired, I bet,” She smiled a little, hoping the Professor would return the gesture.
She didn’t.
Instead, the Professor continued. Nel’s face began breaking, her chin quivering, nostrils beginning to flare. Her stomach dropped, and she suddenly felt cold.
It wasn’t true.
It couldn’t be true.
“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”
It was the last day of school.
Startled, twitching awake, Nel sat up, her vision still blurry as everything that happened the previous day came rushing back to her.
“You’re awake,” She ignored the voice.
She was in the hospital room. She could still remember the conversation she had had with Professor McGonagall just a few hours ago. Fragments and pieces of memories from the night before in which the Professor consoled her about Cedric’s death. Nel cried until the point where she couldn’t speak anymore, and Madame Pomfrey gave her a sleeping draught.
She let out a whimper and brought both of her hands up to bury her face into. Her eyes felt crusty. They were swollen and dry, and her nostrils were scratchy.
“I’m sorry,” The voice spoke again. Lowering her hands after a moment, she turned to face Harry, who was sitting at the foot of her bed in the Hospital Room. His head was lowered, tone was low with sorrow.
The Slytherin climbed on her knees and hugged them, shrinking to the opposite side of the bed. She noticed she had been changed into a pair of her old striped pajamas. They were worn and old, with tattered holes on the sleeves. Not that any of that mattered at the moment.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” She let out a dry sob.
Professor McGonagall had explained to her what had happened in the Third Task of the Tournament. She had also explained that Harry had been the only witness to the crime. “I can’t believe-“ Her voice faded again, breaking into a high pitch.
“Please tell me he didn’t suffer Harry,” She looked at her hands. Harry looked at her heartbroken expression. “Please!” She cried out to him.
“He didn’t,” Harry was quick to answer. It was almost rehearsed. It was something he couldn’t possibly know. No matter how many people asked him, Harry wouldn’t go into detail. He wouldn’t talk about Voldemort or about what had transpired in the graveyard. Even the room looked darker, grayer with the foul weather of the day.
“Is there…” Nel cleared her raspy throat. “Do you know if there’s a spell to bring people back from the dead?”
As far as Harry knew, there wasn’t. It was one of the first rules of magic. Once you’re dead, well, you’re dead. Unless you become a ghost. He never had entirely understood how that worked. Then again, he reasoned not many wizards did either. “Not that I know of,” he answered, sniffling and wiping the tip of his nose. If he did, bet his parents would be with him today.
Both shared a long silence. Harry in mourning. Nel wondering if she could contact the dead with a Ouija Board.
“He spoke of you,” Harry said, breaking the silence.
“What?” She froze, stopping her dead crying.
“He said he was expecting his most loyal servant to deliver you to him,” Harry wanted to say. “I think something went wrong with their plan,” he reasoned, alluding to Crouch and Lestrange’s plan. ‘Oh, he meant Voldemort. Not Cedric.’
“Ellar was trying to get me to follow him into the maze,” Nel sighed. The worst part was that if he had played his cards right. If he had dedicated himself to wooing her and keeping her tightly wrapped around her finger from the beginning, she would’ve followed him to the ends of the world. She hated herself for that.
“That’s where the portkey was,” Harry explained. “The one that took us to the graveyard.”
Everything was making sense now. That’s what the Lestrange’s had been planning all year long. However, the question still lingered. Why would the Lord of Death care for a nobody like Nel?
However, there was one person who knew the answer and would tell.
“Harry, I need to see him,” She squeaked, leaning forward. Reaching out to him and holding on to his sleeve tightly. Up this close, she could some of the wounds from the previous day.
“Who?” Harry asked, confused.
“Sirius,” She clarified. Nel had a feeling Snape knew more than he was letting on, but for some reason, the old bat was withholding information from her, and there was no way he was cracking any time soon. “Please,” She pleaded with Harry. She could’ve begged him to let her see and or speak to Sirius Black.
Harry could see the desperation in her eyes.
“I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” her voice broke as her eyes began to water once again. “I need to know why that man wants me. I need to know who I am,” She let out a shaky breath. “I need to know what they did to me. Why they did it. Why?” Her grip tightened.
Harry was supposed to deny the whereabouts or even the fact he had any communication with his godfather. “I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed.
She didn’t hesitate in lunging her arms around him, holding him in a thankful embrace. She buried her face on his shoulder. As per usual, Harry couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the gesture.
Unknowing to the two, a pair of silver eyes watched bitterly from the Hospital Wing entrance. The Slytherin’s hands balled into fists at what he considered to be the horrifying scene he was witnessing. Of course, it had to be Potter.
Nel’s eyes turned to Draco, who remained composed despite his wild jealousy churning and internally nagging at him.
However, his composure was short-lived.
“You’re a dead man, Potter!” Draco stormed in, whipping his wand out.
Harry raised his in defense. Nel pulled away from Harry unbothered. Malfoy was the least of her problems right now. Harry cleared his throat, his face a little red at the girl’s gesture.
“Malfoy!” Nel exclaimed, shooting deathly daggers at the boy. She spoke to him the way you would speak to a dog when you want him to behave.
Draco was angry. Of course, Potter gets to show off and win the Tournament, Potter catches Barty Crouch Jr. in the act and has him sent to Azkaban, and then he makes a move on his girl?
It wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch.
Harry then remembered he had seen Mr. Malfoy at the graveyard. Groveling as one of Voldemort’s most loyal servants. He couldn’t stand the sight of Malfoy. Who knew just how much Draco knew about the incident. “I have to go,” Harry said and shot a menacing look in Malfoy’s direction. Harry’s green eyes had turned into slits. That slimy weasel and his cowardly father, both would be troublesome. Draco was involved in all of this. Harry had to be careful with whatever he trusted Elowen with, considering how close the two Slytherins were. Did she know his family was on Voldemort’s side?
“You better watch it, Malfoy,” Harry spat. It was a threat. This time Harry didn’t stand back awkwardly. He seethed in newfound anger, not removing his eyes from Draco’s silver ones.
“What is your problem, Draco?” She confronted angrily once Harry left.
This was the last thing she needed at the moment. Another useless fight. It was a waste of time.
Harry looked back at his friend, and she nodded that it was okay to leave, so he left, but not before shooting Draco one last glare. Nel looked in between the two, confused. Had she missed something?
Harry looked back to see Malfoy walking stiffly to stand beside the girl’s hospital bed.
He was dressed in a black suit and straight black pants. Neatly groomed. His cologne announced his arrival before his presence. It looked more like he was going to a business meeting than to visit a friend at the hospital.
Draco was silent. He was still angry. He gave her a stern look and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and speak to her.
He wasn’t the person she wanted to see right now. Especially not after the tantrum he had just thrown. The only thing she cared about was seeing Sirius Black, talking to him, getting to the bottom of this horrible nightmare, and maybe finding a way to see Cedric again.
Draco remained quiet. Little did Nel know about the raging storm that was happening in his head and about everything he had done for her before coming here.
Trying to control her emotions, she wiped her face, took a deep breath, and brushed all of her brown hair out of her swollen face with her fingers.
“Came to mooch off my gifts?” She offered sarcastically, barely looking back at the little flowers and candies next to her bed.
He didn’t say a word.
This was uncharacteristic of him. You usually hated Malfoy for opening his mouth, not for remaining so oddly silent. “You can have some if you like,” She motioned towards them, hoping he would crack. Had he just come here to stare at her? He almost looked sick. What was his problem? Why was he acting so weird?
“Not the lemon pastries, but anything else really. I mean, I’m not going to eat-“ She babbled nervously at his loud silence not bearing his quietness. Anxiety got the best of her as she toyed with the bedsheets, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. She was in her most disgusting pajamas. Draco slept in fresh silk while she slept in something even a moth wouldn’t chew on. It was something that made her feel ashamed and embarrassed.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, and the silence in the room felt more remarkable after he spoke. The fact the two were alone in the suffocating room with the palpable tension was painful.
She really wished he had given her some sort of warning before opening his mouth.
“I fancy you,” he admitted boldly.
His hands inside his pockets. Eyes steady as he kept his fixed gaze on her shocked one. She remained silent at his confession. Her expression was unreadable.
Now it was her turn to grow silent.
She lowered her head in embarrassment and continued to anxiously fidget with the sheets on the bed, suddenly wanting to hide under them and vanish. In a cleverer state, she would’ve pretended to faint just to avoid the awkwardness that was to follow.
God, this was so awkward, so painful. She flashbacked to what Daphne had suggested. She had been right. She flashbacked to the Yule Ball to all of the years of torture she had endured just so that he could have her attention. She also thought about those rare moments the two shared together. Draco could be nice, he could be a friend, he was sort of handsome, but then again- She looked at the childish way he had just stormed in and threatened Harry. The way he could be so demanding and selfish was a turn off. Besides, it would never work out between the two. His parents would never approve of her or her socioeconomic status. Even less when they were most likely planning on delivering her to the Dark Lord like Ellar had been.
“As in, I like you.” He elaborated on his emotion. “As more than friends.”
What if this is what it was all about?
Since Ellar had failed in his task of delivering her to Lord Voldemort, it had fallen on Draco to do so. Could that be it?
But how did she feel about him? She turned away from him, her dry eyes beginning to sting. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Draco was in turmoil. Malfoy Sr. Had always taught his son ‘Nobody says no to a Malfoy,’ and if someone did, he had insisted never to take no for an answer. Here, Draco had a feeling he had met somebody that would say no to a Malfoy.
“I don’t like you” she avoided his stung expression.
Despite her rejection, he remained standing tall, unwavering. Either he didn’t believe her, or as he had been taught, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“So,” he began appearing calm. “What are we going to do about it?” He attempted to negotiate.
“We?” She looked at him in horrific surprise. In his head they were already together. We, as in collective, as in us. As in Us vs. Them. A fat tear slid down her face. Why was he saying this to her? Was he toying with her?
Perhaps, Ellar was right, and he really was just playing with her. Draco’s family was well known for fraternizing with You-Know-Who, and after what had happened with that psychopath— what if he was just the same? Could she really trust him?
What if all of this time, he had also been trying to manipulate her. Open wounds from Ellar’s emotional abuse suddenly stung as fear made her act out aggressively.
“There is no we, there is no us. You have tortured me for the last four almost five years, and you expect me to fancy you-“ She spat at him livid before letting out a rueful laugh. Nel didn’t know what came over her - perhaps it had been all of these years of pent-up rage. Maybe it was the fear, stress, and loss of the last twenty-four hours.
“How- “ She demanded to know where his emotions stemmed from, “Why?”
Why on Earth would somebody like him look at someone like her?
He had so much to lose with this attraction – she, on the other hand, had nothing.
Malfoy visibly flinched at the harshness of her tone. His hostile walls slowly beginning to build up once again.
“You know why,” he said quietly, almost with remorse.
“No. I can’t for the life of me figure that one out.”
She couldn’t trust him.
“I know you. I see you,” he insisted.
“No, you don’t,” She retorted, eyes welling with angry tears for what seemed to be like the hundred time in the day. If there was one thing Malfoy was good at was making her cry. He seemed to be an expert at it, not even struggling to manage to drain canals of tears from her sorrowful eyes.
Malfoy started to become just as frustrated. Leaning forward, he grabbed both of her arms, and she inched backward, away from him; instead, he pulled her towards him and held her tightly, dropping his body on the bed sitting next to her.
“I know you better than anybody else. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen parts of you they haven’t seen. The good, the bad, and especially the ugly,” He said, shooting her a look. She avoided meeting his eyes. Nel knew that if she looked at him, she would cave, and she can’t. She refuses to.
Reaching for her face, he turned her hoping she’d look at him, but her gaze remained lowered. Nel looked hurt, wounded, with tears welled in her glassy eyes.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her face.
“I can’t trust you,” She admitted weakly in an icy tone that made her own heart twist. She wanted to trust him, but couldn’t find herself willing to do it.
Despite everything, he had been told and taught. Draco accepted the rejection. He let go of her and leaned back, sitting at the edge of the bed at the foot with wounded pride.
He didn’t even move when he heard the loud screaming and rushed footsteps entering the hospital wing.
“Nel!” It was Tracey and Daphne both didn’t seem to care that Draco was there. Both were too concerned with their friend to acknowledge that she did not look pleased to see them. The two Slytherins were crying. The tension between the blonde and the brunette could be cut and sliced with a dull knife.
The girls immediately tackled their friend into a hug, one from each side, cradling her body and stroking her hair.
“We’re so glad’ you’re okay!”
“God, we were worried sick!”
Draco inconspicuously stood up and lingered by the end of the bed. He scratched the tip of his nose. Still taking in her rejection before walking away without a word of goodbye.
“Merlin. After what happened to Cedric- we didn’t know if you- if you!” Tracey’s voice broke as she hugged her best friend tightly, burying her tears into her shoulder.
“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Daphne said, genuinely sounding relieved.
Tracey and Daphne pulled away and exchanged eye contact. Both wondered why their friend remained silent. Still shocked by Malfoy’s confession.
“We’re also really sorry for what we did,” Tracey was the first to apologize.
“For what I did,” Daphne stressed. “I shouldn’t have told. I’m really sorry. We really are knob heads.” Daphne bombarded as she profusely apologized. “I’m just glad the Lestranges are all going to be locked away in Azkaban now.”
Boom. Another bomb dropped.
“What?” She didn’t realize her voice was so dry. It cracked when she opened her mouth, crying out like a rusty squeezebox.
“After everything he did to you and Crouch’s confession, the Ministry, the Ministry of Magic, is investigated and trying Ellar Lestrange for the possible murder of Sulk- of Simon—- they took him to Azkaban that same day where he waits for trial,” Daphne explained. “And his mother-“ Tracey arched her eyebrows.
“There was an anonymous tip to the Ministry of Dark Artifacts found in the Lestrange household and of her unwavering support to You-Know-Who. Their home was raided some time ago. Since the Ministry is on edge because of what happened yesterday, and his mother was taken to Azkaban. There she also waits for trial.”
Nel was paralyzed by the news. Her eyes looked in between her friends and focused on Malfoy’s back as he walked out of the room.
It had been him.
She had no evidence. No way of proving it, but she knew he had done this.
Draco exited out of it the room.
Daphne looked back at him. “Didn’t - didn’t Draco mention it?” She asked, just as confused, also turning to look at his retreating back.
“He was so worried,” Tracey added. “I don’t think I had ever seen him like that,” Daphne admitted. “He even went as far as getting his father involved. Hogwarts almost shut down!” Tracey exclaimed.
“I don’t think I saw him eat either,” Daphne said. “Theodore said he didn’t return to the dormitory last night.”
“Hogwarts would’ve probably shut down if we hadn’t found you. One student in the Tournament - well, there are risks involved, but another taken and disappeared?” She reasoned.
Draco had done all that? She couldn’t believe it. “Even gave us quite a mouthful-“
Nel had stopped listening at this point. He even tried to fix things between her and her friends? It was then that she remembered. Yesterday at the Quidditch arena. That’s exactly what he had been doing. He did everything he promised he would do. He got rid of Cloelia, he took care of Lestrange, he even mended her friendship with the other Slytherins. Maybe he really did care about her.
Both Tracey and Daphne looked confused as the barefoot girl leaped out of her bed and ran outside of the hospital room. She was so focused on finding the blond she didn’t even acknowledge Theodore who was walking in holding a bouquet of flowers. Several gasps could be heard as she crossed the school. Whispering too. It was the girl that had been taking. The girl that could talk to snakes. Slytherin’s heir. The girl that did school favor’s for pay. She probably looked ridiculous running around the school in her pajamas. She was heaving by the time she turned down the corridor and spotted him in the distance headed towards the Slytherin Common Room. She saw his blonde head descend down the stairs. Without warning with remorseful tears, she ran towards him, her feet patting against the floor before she threw her arms and embraced him from behind.
He remained still, unmoving, and could feel her face burrow into his back. She held him tightly, tighter than she had probably ever held anyone in her life, as she cried. Her hands squeezed his torso tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized. Her voice sounded weak, almost like a squeak.
She took in his scent, the way his jacket felt, the way he stood so stiffly.
His hand reached for hers and curled around her fingers. Despite it, he did not turn for her. She held his hand back, and their fingers intertwined.
“I know.”
She hadn’t even considered his feelings. After everything, he had done for her.
Maybe she could trust him. Maybe they could make things work. Maybe she liked the way he smelled. Maybe she thought he was more than sort of handsome. Maybe she liked spending time with him. Maybe she genuinely liked him when he wasn’t being a royal prick.
Maybe, just maybe she could fancy the Slytherin back as much as he fancied her.
“Draco,” She said his name.
Letting go of him, he turned around still standing in the stairs with an intrigued expression and looked at her. He hadn’t let go of her hand. She had been more than clear with her rejection. Draco was close to snapping and harshly demanding if she had returned to further humiliate him. However, the dazed look on her face told him otherwise. Stepping up a stair, grabbing the lapel of his black suit jacket, she pulled him in and kissed him.
END of YEAR 4
AN: Woooooo this year was so long. I can’t believe we are through The Goblet of Fire. Funfact this was actually the first scene I imagined.
Thank you so much for everybody that takes the time to message me. It means a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. I know it’s a very – erm – different story than the others. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but I always found it very interesting how Harry, despite all of his abuse and suffering, always chose kindness. I wanted to play with a character that did the opposite and was the antithesis of that.
Thank you, Happy Valentine’s Day <3 Much Love, - G
Any predictions or theories for Year 5? ;)
YA LIT MEME: series of books [3/10] → Harry Potter
Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry,
but why on Earth should that mean that it is not real?
To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 25
Rating: M Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Violence! Emotional Abuse!
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
MY MASTER-LIST
Argus Filch, the school’s caretaker, shook his head wearing a large frown as he mopped the corridor in front of the Great Hall. Next to him, also mopping, with her head lowered in humiliation as students passed by and sniggered, was Pansy Parkinson bearing the unjust punishment for something she didn’t do.
“Little harsh?” Tracey whispered to her friend as the three Slytherins walked by. “Harsh. But well deserved,” Theodore said with an apathetic ‘hn’ at the end. “Hope she learns her lesson,” Elowen flashed a sweet smile in Pansy’s direction before walking into the Great Hall.
After the Yule Ball catastrophe - All the fighting couples, the intoxicated ill students and the flooded bathrooms – people started pointing fingers and the castle was combed for somebody to blame.
It just so happened that when searching the castle, they found several bottles of Spyrit and the ingredients to make a love potion under Pansy’s bed. Which made her look pretty suspicious to Dumbledore and McGonagall. Who would’ve thought Pansy could do such a thing? Despite how much she denied it and how much she wailed and cried claiming that she was innocent the Headmaster didn’t buy it. Nel had a feeling that Snape knew, but he did nothing about it, instead Pansy was punished. Her detention for the rest of the year having to assist Mr. Filch with his caretaking duties around the castle; everything ranging from mopping floors, cleaning bathrooms, polishing mirrors and even venturing out into the Forbidden Forest at night.
Entering the Great Hall, the three almost ran into Malfoy. He looked pale and had a panicked look on his face. Tracey narrowed her eyes ready for him to spit out a nasty insult but instead he avoided their gazes. He mumbled an uncharacteristic sorry. The tension he carried with him palpable. Without another gesture he side stepped around them and left.
“What-“ Theodore looked over his shoulder incredibly confused. “Was that all about?” He asked with an intrigued expression before he turned back to look at his friends.
“What was what?” Nel gave a blank stared that seemed to successfully fool him. However, the way her gaze avoided his eyes and ears turned a little redder did not go amiss to him.
It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed the peculiar interaction between the two. Ever since the Yule Ball something had been off. No petty pranks of insults were exchanged between the two. In fact, it seemed like the two went out of their way to avoid each other almost as if they were walking on thin ice.
Even earlier today during transfigurations class the students had been asked to pick out a top hat to practice transfiguring it into a rabbit. Both Slytherins just happened to reach for the same one at the same time as a group crowded by the shelf where all the top hats were neatly stacked.
“You take it,” Nel was quick to drop the hat. “You should take it,” Draco insisted raising the hat in her direction.
“Um...” She stammered nervously before reaching for a more ragged and dustier one and returning to her seat leaving the teen standing with the hat in hand.
“I forgot something,” Theodore lied as he turned away from his friends. “I’ll be back,” he said swiftly before following after the suspicious acting blond Slytherin.
Neither girl thought much about it and they proceeded to take a seat on their House table, Daphne soon joining them confused about Theodore’s absence.
Xxx
Returning to the Slytherin dormitory after dinner the girls were conversing about their winter holidays and the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament which would be coming up in two weeks.
This was troubling since Nel and Cedric hadn’t had a breakthrough on the Second Task and from the looks of it neither had Viktor or Harry. The two suspected the task would take place in the Black Lake and that had been about it. A generous tip from Nathair.
Walking in the trio saw a circular crowd of Slytherin girls gathered around a table ogling at something. Theodore and Malfoy were sitting on the side of the Common Room sitting on two sofa chairs with an ignored game of chess between them. The two seemed to be in a rushed and upsetting conversation unaidable to anybody else in the room.
“There you are!” The Slytherin prefect said turning to look at Nel and her friends with large eyes and a gleeful smile.
“Somebody left these for you, they have your name,” She said signaling to the orphan and nodding her towards the circle. The circle of females parted to reveal a massive bouquet of colorful flower buds. The prefect handed her a sealed note that had her name scribbled on it. Looking at it curiously – the bouquet was half her size. Leaning over she reached for one of the flowers but pricked her finger with a thorn.
“Ow,” She sucked in her breath and brough her bleeding finger to her mouth. The moment she pricked her finger the bouquet of buds began opening in a vibrant bloom before her eyes becoming a pleasing array of burgundy roses, cyclamen, yellow carnations and maroon dahlias.
The girl’s around her cooed and awed gushing at the elaborate arrangement none ever seeing something to elegant before. “They’re beautiful!” One of the girls said. Pansy who was standing around with her arms crossed over her chest eyed the flowers with disdain. “I bet she sent them to herself,” she scoffed bitterly.
“Who sent them? Who sent them?” Some of the girls elbowed the Slytherin and attempted to peer over her shoulder to take a look at the contents of the note.
‘Meet me at the boathouse after dinner.’
“It doesn’t say,” She answered tucking the note inside of her pocket. Looking up, Nel spotted Theodore and Draco starring from the edge of the common room both looked just as surprised as she was at the gesture.
“Wait. What did it say?” Daphne asked trying to reach for the note which was now out of sight. “You look- disappointed,” Millicent pointed as she looked at the elegant bouquet with a dreamy expression. It was true. Her expression had shifted into a serious one as her lips were drawn in an unsmiling thin line as she didn’t seem the slightest bit elated by the expensive arrangement. “I’ll be back,” The girl responded ominously before walking out, pausing and giving Draco and Theodore one last look before exiting.
It was dark and quiet in the boathouse. She hugged her arms as she attempted to keep herself warm from the bitter winter cold, her breath visible in white clouds as she hugged her coat closer. Having been waiting for some time she again pulled out the note from her pocket and re-read it. She was at the right place at the right time.
Hearing footsteps making the dock’s wood planks creak she quickly turned to face the individual who had sent the flowers.
Perhaps she was at the right place and at the right time, but it was the wrong guy.
“You,” She drawled out upset ready to return to the castle.
“Elowen,” A thin hand grabbed her arm tightly. “Wait…” Ellar said holding her back. She stopped and looked down at his hand with a cross expression. “Get your hand off me!” She whipped her arm back to her person.
“Please,” He pleaded in a lazy tone. “Hear me out.”
“No,” She reached for the note he had written, wrinkled it and tossed it at his feet. “You played me. You had no interest in actually taking me to the Yule Ball, did you?”
“Elowen,” He shook his head and ran a hand though his curly hair. “I did, I swear, but everything that happened with Diggory and then-“ She began walking away not wanting to listen to his lies for another minute. Nel couldn’t believe she had at one point been so infatuated with this lying prick.
“I won’t waste another moment listening to your lies.” Again, he stopped her by reaching for her upper arm and gripping onto her dark gray coat.
“You didn’t even want to dance with me. And then-“ She remembered what she had caught him doing in the restroom. “There’s that filthy habit.” She didn’t know much about the effects of snorting dragonpuff all she knew was that it was similar to muggle cocaine, except worse.
“Oh? So that’s what this is about?” He stepped forward forcefully taking her hands as he stepped forward with a dancing step. She stepped backwards pulling on her hands as they turned in the chilly boathouse next to the black water which mirrored the starry sky above.
“We’re dancing now. Happy?” He said dryly without compassion.
“No,” She again tried to snake out of his grip or reach for her wand. “I’m not happy.”
“What keeps you unhappy?”
“You.” She scoffed at him. “This. Everything you did at the ball.” She eyed him warily waiting to get socked in the face like he had done to Malfoy the night of the Yule Ball. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
After years of living at Wool’s and existing under Cordelia Wool’s thumb Nel had learned a terribly important lesson about dealing with manipulative monsters. Ellar wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t apologizing. Instead he was antagonizing her for her emotions. ‘I’m sorry,’ would’ve been acceptable not ‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’
Feeling an angry fever coming in with gritted teeth she pushed at his body as he forced her to dance with him. His grip on her gaunt hand was so tight she was certain her skin would eventually blemish into a dark bruise.
“What do you want from me? What made you change your mind? You ignore me the entire dance, maybe the whole school year and then you suddenly change your mind?” She marveled at his ridiculous personality change. She had thought long and hard about what his motives could be but couldn’t think of one. His mother didn’t have a problem casting the Imperio curse on her and stealing her body from her. What else could he possibly want?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar!” She pushed with anger baring her teeth. “Elowen, I sincerely have no idea what you are referring to-“ He continued spewing his lie. “Liar. Let me go! You gaslighting, no good, son of a-“ She fought hard against him managing to whip her wand out. Criminally, he stole her first kiss right then and there.
It wasn’t like anything she had imagined. Like anything she had hoped for or like in the movies. No matter how many nights she had stayed up dreaming about kissing Ellar Lestrange in her dreams his lips were softer, they didn’t hurt or crash against her teeth. She imagined it would’ve been a warm feeling not one that left her feeling so void and empty afterwards.
She bit him and mustering all of her physical strength shoved him away from her. The momentum was so much she staggered backwards heel catching on the edge of the dock and falling back into the Black Lake’s ice-cold water.
She sank into the lake her body numb to the cold. Unable to think, act or breathe. The bitter chill seizing control for a moment before a jolt of adrenaline allowed her to kick towards the surface.
Ellar’s hand was reaching down the dock to help her up. She reached for it. “Help!” She cried out spitting out a mouthful of water. Her soaked coat, uniform and scarf weighting down on her shoulders. She reached for his hand, instead her head was once again pushed beneath the water.
Ellar Lestrange’s nails dug into her scalp as he held her head down underwater. Water went inside of her mouth as she gasped for air and desperately clawed at his hand leaving red scratch marks. She couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t think. Her lungs ached from lack of breath. Heartbeat strong. Her legs growing weak from the weight as she fought and persisted kicking.
“-Go mad,” She distinguished as she caught a part of what he was seeing. “I want to see you go mad.”
There was a crazed look on his dark eyes as he knelt over the dock and drowned the girl. He kept on murmuring something to himself as he kept his eyes peeled on the dark bobbing head and the rising bubbles in the water. Water went inside her mouth and she choked on the soul tasting water.
Then Nel didn’t feel a weight pushing her head down and managed to claw at the mossy edge of the wooden board and rise up bringing her shoulders to the dock. She violently coughed the water she had swallowed and pulled her body up harshly breathing through trembling cloudy breaths. Her eyes shot open and she raised her wand ready to curse Ellar. She could see his dark leather shoes. Instead a pair of arms reached down and pulled her out of the water.
“Stupid girl,” Snape’s nasal voice could never fool her as he dragged her out of the water like a soaking wet mop. Safe on the boat house’s wooden dock she sat up still heaving leaning her weight on her elbows. Chest aching, throat feeling like barbwire, teeth chattering, body shivering unpleasantly.
Snape pointed his wand at her and did a complicated wave that made hot air stream out of the tip. Her coat and robes began to steam into a pleasantly warm vapor as they dried out.
“Where-Where did he go?” She looked around the empty boathouse with fearful eyes. The sound of distant splashing in the darkness of the Black Lake gave her a feeling that Ellar was a distance away and alone in the lake.
“Coming to the lake with him,” Snape ignored her question and scolded roughly dragging her up to her feet by the arm. Once up he gripped the back of her neck and forced her head down as he led her up the steep stairs of the cliffs that lead to the castle.
“You stupid, imprudent, senseless girl-“ He scolded gruffly.
“Professor Snape-“ She winced at his rough grip her neck straining some strands of wet hair sticking to her forehead. “How did you even find me?”
“Mind your luck I was rounding the perimeter of the sacred Black Lake and witnessed Rabastan Lestrange’s progeny descending down these steps-“ His mouth moved fast as he spoke in a rapid tone she had stopped listening halfway as they descended down the stairs of the dungeon and into his office, he pulled her in by her upper arm now slamming the door behind him.
She turned looking at him with her eyes wide as he let her go and rounded around his desk.
“Why were you down at the Black Lake, Professor?”
“Ministry of Magic business,” He responded curtly sucking in a deep breath.
She remembered what Nathair had said about seeing the Ministry of Magic walking the perimeter of the Black Lake. No doubt her assumption that the Second Task of the tournament would take place there. That was some news Cedric would be happy about.
“What happened to him? What did you do?” She asked frightfully. “We need to tell the Headmaster!” She scattered heart still hammering in her chest from the fearful experience.
He had just tried to kill her. What could she do? What would she do? Could she successfully execute a vengeful plan against him and get away with it? Probably not knowing that his mother was her absolute guardian and would probably do something just as terrible to her. However, would it be worth it? She had after all already physically wounded him once.
“Silence!” Snape snapped shushing her.
She had nothing to lose. She could do it. Make him pay. Just like she had made Pansy pay and all the others before. Ellar was the type of person that didn’t deserve her care or empathy. People – men like him weren’t worth it.
“Mr. Lestrange is enjoying a pleasant midnight swim with the grindylows. I’m sure the giant squid and the lake’s merpeople will keep him company,” he said sardonically.
“Are you going to do anything?” She looked at him with an incredulous expression. Almost a hopeful one. He had almost killed her for Salazar’s sake. Her expression faltered into a wounded one after a moment. Did Snape even care enough to do something about it?
“No,” He spoke after a moment of silence.
Again, Snape had proven she couldn’t trust him. He didn’t care enough. He wouldn’t move a finger to even try and get the bastard expelled from Beauxbatons.
“He was trying to kill me!” She shouted angry. “I couldn’t breath- I could’ve drowned! Do you know how much water I swallowed?! Do you even –“
With a flick of his wand she was silent. Her lips continued rapidly moving as she rambled and kicked the chair in front of his desk before turning and slapping a hand on his desk. She unmuted herself with a charm.
“As much as you enjoy the sound of your own voice Saintday I will ask you to be quiet and listen.”
“He could’ve killed me!” “He didn’t,” Snape silenced her his voice sharp as he leaned over his desk.
He wouldn’t have. Snape was more than certain that the Lestranges had strict orders not to physically harm The Girl Who Died. The consequences would be dire if she was wounded. He gave her a hard look as if pondering his words carefully measuring just what he would say to her, just like he had at the beginning of the year.
“It wouldn’t be the first time Ellar Lestrange was involved in an accident on schoolgrounds. His reeking privilege has saved him from rotting in the cells of Azkaban once already,” Snape trailed up as he brought a pensive hand to his chin.
Again, Ellar wouldn’t have killed her. The consequences for him and his family would be dire if the Dark Lord’s plans were soiled.
She was about to ask what he meant but he instead continued to speak.
“Sit,” He commanded. Keeping her eyes on him she dropped to the chair before his desk. “What I am about to tell you is of imperative importance and I expect you to listen and most importantly obey.”
She said nothing in response and listened attentively.
“And no- you are not allowed to question why.” He added snidely.
Again, she remained still keeping her ears open.
“Stay away from Ellar Lestrange.”
To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 26
Rating: Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Anxiety! Phobia!
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
MY MASTER-LIST
Did Professor Snape actually think she was stupid?
Probably. Ellar Lestrange had tried to kill her. How- why on Earth would she ever considering being around him ever again? An unpleasant chill went down her spine at the thought of being around him. She thought of the crazed look on his eyes as he attempted to drown her, his rough grip on her body, his cold lips. Consider it done Snape.
It wouldn’t happen again.
However, the thought of getting even – the need to make him feel just as small as he had made her feel – the thought was more than tempting, but how could she hurt him? As far as she knew it didn’t look like Ellar had a weakness. She tried to empathize with him, to think of his intentions and have the benefit of the doubt yet couldn’t reach a conclusion.
‘Mr. Lupin, I apologize it has taken so long for me to write to you back. I hope the gloves I sent you fit you well. I’m not the most skilled knitter so I have enchanted them with a charm that should keep your hands warm (it is still a work in progress, so I hope the charm sticks).
Hogwarts has been well Hogwarts. I’m happy to be home. Work has been keeping me busy. I have a lot to make up to from last year and every year I get more and more clients. It can get exhausting, but work is work and I shouldn’t complain.
The Yule Ball was fine-‘
It wasn’t. The Yule Ball was a complete catastrophe. Not just for Nel but for almost every student that attended.
‘-I went stag. Found a dress from the ‘Come and Go Room.’ Did you know Hogwarts has a secret room? My friends are-‘
She looked up from her scribbling to see Daphne and Theodore playing and holding with each other’s hands in the middle of the Slytherin table. Both of them completely lost in each other’s eyes. Some Durmstrang students glared at them with revulsion at the romantic public display of attention. Nel almost threw up. To think she wanted that to be her and Ellar Lestrange only a couple of weeks ago. Leanne who was sitting next to Tracey in the Slytherin table was showing her the latest photographs she had captured of the Whomping Willow shaking off some snow. Both were also completely absorbed with each other leaving Nel to constantly feel lonely or like a fifth wheel.
When they asked why she had returned to the dormitory with parts of her clothes soaking wet she lied and said it had been a prank by the Weasley twins. When asked who had been the one behind the anonymous flower arrangement, she, again, lied and said the person never showed.
“Was it Ellar?” Daphne had asked leaning over her bed, eyes wide in astonishment.
“No,” Nel said dully. “Why would he send me flowers?” She rolled her eyes dramatically. Another lie. None of them questioned it. Specially after the showdown that went on in the Yule Ball.
Of course, all of them were too engrossed with each other to noticed how she had begun to avoid the Black Lake. How she began to make excuses not to run around it in the mornings with Tracey and Viktor, how she starred at the green tinted windows in the Common Room it with unease, nails burying into skin leaving half-moon crescents in her palms, or how her breathing would become irregular when in the presence of a large body of water or even the mentioning of the lake.
She tried to compartmentalize. To push the memory to the back of her head. To ignore the painful memory of your lungs screaming and burning for air. The dark coldness of the underwater and the crazed look on that maniac’s face.
If you’re lying to your friends, you are doing something wrong. However, she felt like they wouldn’t understand. If they knew- if any of them knew it would only complicate things. If Snape, a Hogwarts professor, wasn’t able to do anything what help could her friends be? It didn’t seem like Ellar had a weakness. Even Professor Snape had said it himself, his reeking privileged had saved him from Azkaban once before. They might give him a piece of their minds but that would be about it.
In regards of her other friends- Harry was too impulsive, so were the Weasley’s- even talking about it- it would just be problematic. Even Nathair was absent since he was hibernating the cold winter somewhere inside the greenhouse.
Then again, these weren’t things they talked with each other. The less they knew about each other the better.
She wanted to talk to somebody who wouldn’t be biased to judge, someone who would just listen-
Her eyes left the letter she was writing and slowly wondered a couple of seats away to Draco who was pointing at something in a magazine Zabini was showing him, no surprise probably roasting someone. He was a good listener; he was good at this kind of thing.
“Why is Saintday starring at me?” Blaise narcissistically asked Draco when he felt a pair of eyes on him. “Think she’ll ask me to Puddifoot’s?” He laughed in reference to the pink Tea Shop were students usually went on dinner dates at Hogsmeade. She turned away quickly when Malfoy turned in her direction. Her mind went to that same place it had the night after the Yule Ball. The grip around her pen became a little tighter when she felt her face burning from the embarrassment of the memory.
‘My friends are great.’
She dotted that statement harshly.
‘I haven’t been practicing my Patronus charm as much as I should be. Other than that, professor, I was wondering,’ She wanted to scratch off the word professor. It was a force of habit to call him that. ‘Have you ever heard of Ellar Lestrange? He used to be a student at Hogwarts.’ He’s also a real foul git.
‘Other than that – I hope you are well professor. Hopefully by the next time we meet my Patronus will be fully functional.
Take care, - Nel’
Looking over her shoulder she fed a piece of sausage to her owl which had been loyally perched on her shoulder all this time and handed it two sealed letters. One for Lupin and another for Cedric who was just a couple of tables away.
‘Meet me outside in 5.’ The note read.
Cedric read it and their eyes met from across the Great Hall. Looking up he nodded with a lazy smile and made his way outside.
“Where are you going?” Tracey asked when she saw her friend rise without saying a word.
“Common Room,” She half lied. “See ya,” She said curtly.
“Nel you’ve been acting very wei-“ Tracey didn’t get to finish her sentence, her friend leaving her hanging. “Weird,” She dead panned and turned to give Leanne an irritated look. “I think she’s just upset about the Yule Ball,” the Hufflepuff suggested.
“I mean something did happen with Lestrange, right? People say she went mad and struck him, then he sent her flowers- you’d think she’d be elated. Didn’t you say she fancied him?” Moon added to the group of Slytherins. Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose irritated at the missing puzzle piece.
She was missing something, but what was it?
“Ced,” Outside of the Great Hall, Nel greeted the older Hufflepuff as they walked down the corridor in no particular direction. “Ever heard of the ‘Come and Go Room?’” She asked with particular interest.
Cedric looked a little confused by her question. “You mean the Room of Requirement?” He arched an eyebrow.
“The Room of what?” Her expression mimicked his.
“Come, I’ll show you,” He said turning in the direction of the moving staircases and leading her up. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?” He asked as they headed up the stairs to the seventh floor.
No. She wanted to tell him about what she knew about the lake. She wanted to tell him- someone about what had happened with Ellar Lestrange that night. About how his mother would most definitely kill her in cold blood for wounding the pride and joy that was her only son. She didn’t want to think of Cloelia rigidly sitting at home with her palms flat on the dining table as she plotted her vengeance against her. “I want to see you go mad,” the Beuxbaton student’s cruel words still haunted her. The thought of the dark water-
“No,” She said quicker than she intended. Wanting to shut out the memory of the dark water. “It’s about the Second Task of the Tournament. I am more than certain it’s at the lake. Are you prepared to go underwater?”
“Underwater?” Cedric’s thick eyebrows burrowed deep in thought. “Yes. Unless you can grow gills, I have a feeling you’re going to need some help in that department.”
“How do you know this?” He asked curiously.
She could’ve confessed. Told her about what Ellar had done to her and how Professor Snape knew. How Snape had been there and had done nothing about it, but it brought so much shame to her. It had been her fault in the first place, for being there, for trusting Ellar, for putting herself in that situation. Besides- what would Cedric do about it? Nothing. Ellar was beyond privileged, it would come to his word against her and in the end his, being a Lestrange, weighted more. It weighted enough to get him off the hook from Azkaban.
“Never mind that,” He shrugged. “Anyhow-“ Cedric said as they entered the Seventh Floor. “Here it is,” he finished with confident as they stopped in front of a large empty wall across from a tapestry of Barnabas the Barny trying to teach trolls to dance ballet.
She was silent for a moment looking for the entrance to the Room of Requirement. The door must be really small, she squinted her eyes to try and see.
“But there’s no door,” Nel observed.
“One thing about Hogwarts is, nothing really is what it seems,” Cedric reached for her arm and pulled her along as he walked away. She was more than perplexed by the missing room.
“The Room of Requirements only reveals itself to those who require it,” He explained as the two walked in front of tapestry three times. It was then that he stopped a massive door with intricate swirling carvings then revealed itself to the two of them. It even seemed to slightly shimmer. “Tricky, aint it?” He said with his hands on his waist.
“How-How’d you?” She looked at him wide eyed with a broad smile.
“Walk in front of the tapestry three times while focusing on an intent. If you do it correctly the room and whatever you desire should appear.”
She made a mental note of this. “How do you know about it?” She looked at him oddly.
A coy grin grew across his face and he ran a hand through his neat copper hair. “Well,” He chuckled. “Prefects use it as a snogging room,” he said cheekily. He laughed at her stunned expression. “Why? Are you thinking of having some company over?”
She slapped his arm and looked away hoping he wouldn’t notice her flustered reaction.
“Knock yourself out,” He once again laughed. “That reminds me-“ He waved his finger. She noted he was stepping away from her. “I have an idea. Meet me outside the prefect’s bathroom in half an hour.”
“What?” She turned back to look at him with that same confused look she had been wearing on her face all evening long so far.
Xxx
It would take hours- no days. To look through all of the vials, books, trunks, boxes and other magical trinkets that are all inside of the room. And who knew what Cedric meant when he said the room would shift into whatever its user required.
Elowen even lost track of her time and arrived outside the Prefect’s Bathroom later than expected. She waited outside but Cedric never showed. Maybe- she looked around the corridor shiftily hoping no other prefects or professors would be doing rounds tonight. Maybe he was already inside?
“Hello?” She croaked as she crept inside of the Prefect’s Bathroom. She was distracted looking up in awe at the animated mermaid stained glass windows and the massive organ like fountain that was pouring down a rainbow of water that descended into a bubbly lagoon that she didn’t even realize Cedric half underwater. Did people actually come and bathe in here?
“Took you long enough!” He laughed a little and swam towards the edge and reached for the golden egg he had received in the First Task.
Normally she would’ve had a clever retort at the tip of her tongue, but the sight of the dark water grounded her in place. He didn’t seem to notice her rattled reaction. Her eyes were frozen on the water. She knew it had a bottom. She knew Cedric wasn’t struggling. She knew she wouldn’t fall. She knew she wouldn’t drown, but the memories.
The vivid feeling of her lungs burning for air as salty lake water flooded her mouth and choked the air out of her suddenly came back to her.
“Well come on then,” he waved his hand over in his direction still wearing a cheery grin. She didn’t share his enthusiasm. “Welcome to the Prefect’s Bathroom. You’ll be able to use it next year. If you are chosen to become a prefect. I think you’d make a rather good one.”
The cold darkness that engulfed her beneath the lake still pricked at her with the sight of the dark water.
The fact Diggory was shirtless and in the water didn’t cross her mind, she didn’t snap out of her fearful trance until she heard a dreadfully familiar laugh.
“Is this the- handsome boy – you brewed that foul-smelling Love Potion for?”
Moaning Myrtle.
“Myrtle,” Nel dropped her name from her mouth with much nasal distaste. The ghost girl’s remarks cause her to snap out of her trance and drag her heavily grounded feet towards the pool.
“I would disagree,” She said woefully with a bit of an incredulous laugh answering his comment.
Nel? Prefect? Could you imagine the chaos and havoc? Students would be getting points for jinxing people on her shit list.
“You brewed a Love Potion Nel?” Cedric laughed; his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Maybe the snogging room will come in handy!”
“The only snog Snelly Nelly is getting is from a Welsh troll,” Myrtle cackled and Nel wished she could toss something in her direction. Both ignored her.
“I am not getting in the water Cedric,” She warned kneeling on the edge.
“Are you sure?” He rested his elbows on the edge. “Waters nice,” He said splashing some warm water in her direction. She stiffened up petrified. Again, he chuckled slightly interpreting her response as a girlish nervousness.
“I was thinking-“ He pondered for a moment. “Since the task is underwater, what do you think would happen if I sink the egg underwater?”
Xxx
“You have to come!” A week later Tracey was pulling on Nel’s hand as she insisted her friend came to attend the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament which would take place in the Black Lake.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” She lied shiftily nervously playing with her book bag’s strap. Never in this lifetime would she admit she was afraid and less to a room full of Slytherins. “Oh, come on,” Tracey insisted still pulling on her friend’s hand. “It’ll be fun! Leanne even got butterscotch popcorn for us!”
“Thanks Trace, but I’ll pass really,” Nel averted her eyes and kept them glued to the floor. She withdrew her hand from her friend’s coldly.
Tracey looked at her with a concerned expression. “You’ve been acting really odd lately,” She said with a hand on her waist.
“Odd?” Nel kept busy by tossing meaningless items inside of her bookbag. “Odd how?” She dodged the subject tossing in more parchments, ink, an extra quill and a pillow. Wait- she didn’t need a pillow. She put the item back in her bed and took in a deep breath her eyes moving from one end of the Slytherin dormitory to the other eventually focusing on Mildred’s cat.
“Nel,” Tracey said softly as she took a seat on the edge of her friend’s bed.
“You can talk to me – to us – your friends. About anything, really-“ She said tenderly her worried eyes still lingering on her roommate.
“There is nothing going on!” She snapped in return. She didn’t even realize she had raised her voice. “Nothing Trace! Stop being so damn bloody nosey!” She shut her book bag before standing up and storming out of the room. Tracey sat stunned at the volatile reaction.
Halting by the door, Nel rested a hand on the door frame. “Trace- I’m…” She turned with her head lowered. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have snapped. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” She hesitated before walking back to the bed. “I’m sorry,” She pinched the bridge of her nose and Tracey suspected she was wiping away tears that dared prick at the inner corners of her eyes.
She sat in the bed next to her and Tracey took her hand in hers patting it sadly.
“Who do I have to kill?” Tracey laughed slightly which in turn made Nel break into a smile. “Was it Malfoy?” This time she spoke in full seriousness.
Feeling drained Nel held her breath. “Draco?” She shook her head and put her head on her friend’s shoulder before sighing deeply. “No, not this time.”
“Draco?” Tracey was in turn more than surprised at her casual use of his name. “That’s new,” Tracey huffed slightly before nudging her shoulder up. She was about to further press on the topic when Pansy Parkinson walked into the dormitory. “Forgot my binoculars,” She tossed over her shoulder not paying the two Slytherins much attention.
“By the way my money’s on Potter,” She added with pomp before walking out.
“’On Potter?’” Nel repeated still with her head comfortably resting on Tracey’s shoulder. How odd for Pansy to be rooting for Harry in anything. “Interesting choice,” was all she commented.
“They’re not betting on winners,” Tracey said with an exhausting sight. “They’re betting on who’s drowning first.”
Like that Nel’s head jolted up as she sat extremely straight and looked at Tracey with a horrified expression. “What?” She gaped.
Tracey couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s reaction. “Calm down,” She said through small laughs as she attempted to comfort her friend. “Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic will be there, there’s no reason why anything could go wrong.”
The thought of Harry or Cedric or Viktor or even Fleur de la Couer whom Nel had never exchanged a word with drowning made Nel want to retch. She pictured the horrifying image of pale body floating in the contrasting waters of the Black Lake. She paled at the thought and felt her stomach twist uneasily. There it was again that tight sensation in her throat.
“I’ll catch up,” She croaked after a moment. Tracey hugged her and promised they would save her a seat since Daphne and Theodore were probably already there waiting for them in the audience bleachers.
Xxx
The day was freezing. Air was cold as strong gusts of wind blew through the eager crowds which sat on the bleachers in a makeshift dock in the middle of the Black Lake. It was definitely not a good day to take a dip in the freezing waters.
The Ministry of Magic sat in the audience as a spectator, next to him sat Lucius Malfoy, on the same row was Albus Dumbledore, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch.
In the row below Tracey looked around the crowd anxiously. She sat in defeat when she came to the realization her friend was nowhere to be found.
Lowering her binoculars Nel blew a hair out from her face in great frustration as she watched from a far. There was no way she was going to walk across a bridge and sit in a dock for who knows how many hours waiting for anybody to come up from the water. She was safe and sound witnessing the events from the edge of the lake actually standing on solid British soil.
A gun had been fired and the contestant had been underwater for some time now.
Sighing she once again picked up the binoculars and this time observed as the champions got ready to take a leap. She knew that Cedric would use a Bubble-Head Charm one that he had endlessly been practicing in the Prefect’s Bathroom. She helped him practice, convincing herself that it would be ideal to know, especially when in such a close proximity to a large body of water. She was curious as to what the other champions would use.
“What are you doing here?” A voice that ran a chill down her spine struck her.
She said nothing and stammer a little imagining how ridiculous she probably looked standing alone on the edge of the Black Lake witnessing everything from a far.
“You’re scared of the lake. Aren’t you?”
Irritated she again lowered her binoculars yet didn’t turn around, her gaze remained fixed on the end of the dock where the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament was happening.
“So perceptive of you,” She said dryly.
“Why?” She could hear the pebbles on the edge of the muddy lake crunching under his feet as he approached her side. His voice, it sounded like he had genuine concern. Yet with Malfoy it was hard to know if he was being sincere or not. “Are you here to make fun of me?”
He stood there for a moment “I’m not,” like Tracey’s earlier his voice was soft, unthreatening, he sunk his hands in his black jacket’s pockets shielding them from the bitter winds.
Her lips were tightly drawn into a line. She still didn’t want to look at him. Wasn’t his father in the audience? Why was he here with her?
Unsure of what to say she was silent for a moment.
“You were right,” She decided to break that silence. She hadn’t even realized she was biting her lip, nodding her head slightly with a distant look of disdain in her eyes. He looked at her with curiosity.
“Lestrange,” She thought of the perfect way to describe him. “He’s a monster.”
She didn’t notice how his expression hardened when he registered the apathetic look in her eyes. That son of a bitch. He wondered just what was going through her head. His eyes looked for any trace of injury on her exposed skin, but it was hard to see beneath the gloves, scarf, knitted cap and all winter gear.
“Seems to be quite fixed on you as of the late. Sending you flowers and all.”
“How?” She finally turned to face him. How was it that he always seemed to know?
“The Weasleys can barely afford to breathe, Potter is too daft to send something so elaborate. It has to be someone with a strong intent that can afford such an unimaginative gesture,” He looked at her with full seriousness. “Alright Sherlock,” She rolled her eyes wearing a half smile before once again focusing on the tournament through her binoculars which were strapped around her neck.
“What did you call me?” He asked sounding offended by the unknown word.
“Muggle reference,” She added wearing that same coy smile. The moment was short lived. The smile wiped from her features as there seemed to be some action in the tournament.
“I think Krum is coming up-“ She described. “Is that? With Granger?” She squinted through the glass making sure she was seeing correctly. “You’re missing the task,” She said to Malfoy hoping he’d go away and return to his father’s eyes to witness the tournament. Instead he said nothing and took the binoculars from her and she was tugged to his side by the short strap that was around her neck. He didn’t apologize for standing so close to her, nor did he seem to care.
She could smell his strong cologne. Could see the beauty marks and freckles on his pale skin.
She didn’t mean for it to happen, but her heart picked up pace. This time there was no alcohol involved. She stood on her tip toes hoping to keep a distance between the two. Struggling to keep her balance standing over the slippery pebbles. Slipping she braced onto his arm to hold herself up. “Sorry,” She mumbled ducking her head.
“Fancy a swim Elowen?” A voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard interrupted. Ellar stood a couple of feet away from them about to cross the bridge which lead to the makeshift island were audiences were viewing the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He wore a smug smile as he hid his hands in his coat’s pockets.
Malfoy glared at the Beuxbaton student with hatred.
“Cowering behind Malfoy. How typical,” The other shot. Nel didn’t even realize she was hiding behind Malfoy, or maybe he had pushed her behind him. Did it really matter? Triggered she stepped forward and whipped her wand ready to hex him. Yet her hand was held back. Draco gave her a knowing look. He knew when to pick his fights. She didn’t.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Lestrange raised his hands up mockingly. “Might want to put a leash around her Malfoy. I heard she bites,” Ellar bit down on the edge of his lip with a wink before haughtily walking away with his head tossed back as he retreated. His loud laugher a faraway echo from the windy spot where Draco and Nel were standing.
Nel kept her head lowered not wanting to think about what had happened with Ellar. After all it had all been her fault.
“Nel,” She felt a rough hand on her shoulder turn her. “What did he do?”
Sullenly she simply shook her head in small movements. “What did he do to you?” He repeated his tone stronger, grip on her arm tighter. “Nothing,” She lied dismissively , like she had rehearsed a thousand times. “Tell me,” He ordered. “He forced himself on me,” word vomit. She hadn’t even realized she’d said it. “Kissed me,” She paused. “And then tried to drown me in the Black Lake,” She admitted not wanting to look at his judging eyes. She waited for him to blame her just like she blamed herself from the shame of it. “Son of a bitch.”
Draco wasn’t looking at her he instead marched in Ellar’s direction beginning to cross the wood bridge. Lifting his wand dishonorably hexing the teen with his back turned; Lestrange was propelled high into the sky and across nastily splashing into the lake’s water. His father, the audience and everybody else would’ve been way to distracted by one of the champions emerging from the water to even realize what he had done. “And coming up!” Ludo spoke as he continued to narrate the events of the tournament to the audience.
Nel watched with her mouth ajar again bringing the binoculars to her mouth as Ellar spat out some cold water and rise up in the tournament. “Is that a student? Somebody get that fanatic out of the winter waters!”
Students in the audience pointed and laughed.
Wearing a triumphant and very satisfied smile Draco flipped his wand in his hand before turning to face Nel. Lowering her binoculars, she rubbed her eyes and buried her face in the palms of her hands.
“Nel?” He called her name quickly approaching her. Again, she could hear the pebbles shifting under his steps. “Are you crying?” He asked sounding more blatantly surprised than concerned this time.
“No,” She removed her hands and wore a broad smile she attempted to hide behind her knuckles.
Satisfied Draco looked back at the audience from a far. He let out a laugh when he saw the way Lestrange was pitifully fished out of the freezing cold water by a Beuxbaton Professor. People laughed at him as they did.
“What a tosser,” Draco grumbled with great distaste. Still hiding her shy smile, the girl admired his face profile from the side. He completely missed the large doe eyes she was looking at him with. “Worse than mudbloods I tell you.” And… Just like that it was gone.
To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 23
Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings:
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
MY MASTER-LIST
"Oi," Nel stopped in her tracks and turned to see none other than Cedric calling after her. "I don't want you to take this personally, but I'm not going to the Yule Ball with you. Is that alright?
She looked at the Hufflepuff in surprise. "I only said yes because I didn't want to embarrass you in front of everybody else. I'm actually planning on asking Cho."
How gracious of Diggory. He was letting her down and he was even good at that. To the older teen's surprise, she actually seemed relieved.
"You seem happy," He laughed a little. "It's a long story," She drawled out really not wanting to relive the tale. "Malfoy dared me to do it. He said if you said no, he'd take pity on me and take me," She rolled her eyes still fuming at his offense.
"Oh?" Cedric wondered out loud. "And you want to go with him?" He asked nosily.
"Absolutely not!" She cried out louder than he expected. "He was just bullying me like always."
"Sounds to me like he wants to take you," Cedric flashed her a knowing smile.
"Why didn't he just ask then?" She groaned out feeling beyond irritated.
"Also sounds like you him to take you," He teased playfully.
"Nonsense," She glared at him with hostility. "I'm waiting for somebody else to ask me," She avoided his questioning gaze.
"Anything I can do to help?" He offered. Merlin, he was such a Hufflepuff. "You've done enough. Thanks, Ced," She thanked him for sparing her the terrible humiliation of being turned down in front of half of the school. He flashed her one of his infamous smiles. The kind that made girls everywhere melt and it almost made her regret not holding him onto his word.
(AN: Ha! Bet I really had you there for a moment lol).
xxx
That had been a couple of weeks ago.
It was officially the third weekend of December, meaning the holiday had just started and the ETA for the Yule Ball was exactly one week.
Yule Ball Dress: Worth it.
Yule Ball Date: Nonexistent.
Elowen was presently brewing a weak version of Amortentia also known as Love Potion #9. The potion had yet to turn red but the pleasant smell of fine wool and lemon tart seemed to flood the Second-Floor girl's bathroom.
"I never had to brew a love potion to get a boy to like me," Moaning Myrtle taunted as she hovered around the Slytherin who was presently focused on properly adding her rose thorns into the light blue potion.
"Shut up Myrtle," Nel glared with great frustration as she sat with her legs crossed underneath her body on the bathroom floor. "You never had to brew a love potion to get a boy to like you because you're dead."
"And yet you alive- still cannot manage," she laughed loudly. Nel shot her a nasty look she wanted to throw something at her but knew it would simply phase through her. "At least I'm not dead," was her lame comeback.
Myrtle scowled in her direction before spewing more insults, shrieking and vanishing into the sink behind the girl making the water splash and rain on the Slytherin Fourth Year. "Ugh…" Nel wiped some water from her brow with great frustration.
"I won't pretend to know why it is you're brewing Amortentia in the Second Floor's bathroom," an invasive voice suddenly interrupted. "And a particularly weak one at that," Professor Snape walked into the girl's bathroom with both of his arms crossed over his torso. He glared down in judgement already assuming the intentions behind her brewing.
"Professor Snape!" Elowen said alarmed staggering to her feet. "How did you-?"
"The stench reeks in the corridor. I wouldn't be surprised if Mr.-," Snape paused holding his tongue for a moment. "Whoever, stumbled upon you."
Somehow this was even worse than Snape using her to rehearse ballroom dancing with her in front of the entire Slytherin House. Her ears were burning a dark shade of red as she hid her embarrassed face. She wanted to admit it wasn't what it looked like but didn't know how to without getting into trouble.
Now with his hands behind his back, the Potions Master stepped forward peering down into the cauldron and reached down to add an extra dash of pearl dust which in turn turned the potion a bright shade of red before shifting a glittery white powder. The bathroom was filled with a strong cologne smell that made the girl pinch her nose from the potency. It smelled like something familiar she had smelled somewhere in the castle before.
"Carry on," Snape drawled out looking unimpressed. "Five points Slytherin for attempting an advanced potion and with that – my office Monday after dinner." He turned referring to the private lessons he had been giving her.
"Y-Yes, Sir," She nodded her head forward as he left without another word. That had been a close one. The worst part was that Nel didn't want the potion to drug someone with it. The potion would serve a much more evil purpose.
Yule Ball Prank: In the works.
It was part of her end of the bargain with Peeves. He helped her escape that claustrophobic office last year and now she had to do his bidding and ensue chaos at the Yule Ball. Dramatic much, but Peeves liked a show.
The potion was in the making, there were currently several bottles of Spyrit liquor, the strongest liquor known to Wizard kind hidden under her bed. The Weasley twins, her suppliers, weren't sure if it would do much to the Bulgarians, but she had to give it try. She was currently carefully bottling the potion making sure not to spill any when Myrtle again screeching phased through the floor and knocked the bottle out of her hands making her spill the potion on her uniform.
"Myrtle!" Nel shouted angrily as she attempted to rub the strong-smelling potion from her school jumper and skirt. "Serves you right," Myrtle stuck out her tongue and raspberried at the girl before again vanishing. It was almost time for dinner, cursing under her breath the girl packed up the potion in different vials before rushing back to the dining hall. She didn't look any different, but she found it odd that people kept on turning their heads when she passed by them in the Great Hall.
"Smells like home," Ivo, one of the Bulgarians, inhaled deeply as the girl walked behind him. The Bulgarians looked at her oddly as she took her regular seat with the other Fourth Year Slytherins.
"New perfume?" Theodore commented as he lowered his book when he caught a whiff of his friend.
"Why do you smell like halide?" Tracey asked wrinkling her nose, she looked at her friend with paranoid suspicion. "Huh?" Nel asked not even knowing what halide is.
Daphne wrinkled her nose leaning over her dinner plate and visibly sniffing her friend who deliciously smelled like a s'more.
Other students who took noticed in the strong scent all turned their heads towards her. She looked at them uncomfortably. She couldn't just sit and explain to them just what she had been doing.
"Why-" A pair of hands slammed on the table next to her. "Are you wearing Draco's cologne?" Pansy demanded to know with a furious expression. Malfoy looked at the two girls confused. All he could smell was the lemon tart dessert.
"I'm not," She simply answered shooting the girl a wary look. Pansy looked between the brunette and the blond boy that was sitting some seats away with terrible irritation. Draco had been awfully quiet as of the late, suspiciously dodging Elowen. Then again, so had most of the Slytherin boys, even Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. She figured they didn't want to be near her in case she asked any of them to the dance. They didn't need to flatter themselves; it wasn't as if she'd ever do it.
Daphne looked at her friend suspiciously having a feeling of what it was she was really smelling. "Have you found a date to the ball yet?" She asked absentmindedly.
"No, not yet," Nel whispered leaning closer over the table. Her eyes shot to look at the Ellar Lestrange who was sitting all the way across the Great Hall in the Ravenclaw table.
"Why don't you just ask him and get it over with?" Theodore suggested with a careless shrug. Nel looked at him incredulously and then turned back to look at Daphne with disbelief at what the Slytherin was suggesting.
"What's the worst that can happen?" She suggested.
She turned to look at Tracey hoping for a defense. "Just do it. Worst case scenario he says no and he sucks."
With a determined look the girl reached in her bookbag and pulling up a parchment she scribbled something in it rather madly before folding it into a paper plane and enchanting it to fly across the Great Hall. All waited with their eyes obviously fixed on the older teen as he caught and unfolded the parchment looking up and smiling weakly at the girl.
"Is that a yes?" Tracey clenched her friend's arm.
"No," She said smiling back at him. "I asked him to meet me somewhere," She reached for a pumpkin pastry and took a bite that would most definitely make the Lestrange's dining room table kick her before chugging her water and heading off without another word.
"Wait! Nel!" Tracey called after her friend who was already running out of the Great Hall. "Where is she going?" She asked Daphne and Theo who looked at her figure vanishing.
"I hope he says yes!" Daphne gushed excitedly.
"Shit."
The three friends turned to look at the Slytherin who had slipped and audibly cursed. For some reason Draco looked caught and almost looked sick with paranoia and guilt.
Xxx
Ellar Lestrange calmly walked up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. He wasn't sure what Elowen Saintday could possibly want to discuss with him. He wondered if his mother had been particularly giving her a hard time. As far as he knew the two had no contact, even if Cloelia regularly asked him for updates on the girl's life. He shared what little he knew about her life.
Opening the trap door to the tower he saw how she stood near the railing mouthing some words to herself practicing a repeated flicking movement with her wand.
"Hey," He interrupted and watched her jump a little.
"Oh! Hi! Ellar!" She laughed nervously before walking towards him and trying to keep her hair tame despite the bad weather. It wasn't a nice night, with a strong wind carrying the cold December air to them.
She stood in front of him slightly swaying her body back and forth as if she was waiting for him to ask her something.
"What can I do for you Elowen?" He asked slightly perplexed as to what she wanted to talk to him about, so privately and up here out of all places.
It wasn't the question she was hoping to hear.
Giving a step back and flickering her wand golden sparks began to fly from the tip as she rapidly moved and waved it writing out four words in her best handwriting in the air.
'Yule Ball U + ME ?'
She dotted the '?' and the words began to spin in a colorful array of beautiful lights and magic. Ellar made a noise that sounded like a curious chuckle. He looked at her with surprise and took in the rare, yet pleasant scent of red wine that filled the open space between them.
Her heart was jumping at her throat and she looked terribly nervous. Breath quicker than usual. Hand shaking slightly at the fear of rejection.
"Elowen," he managed to say with a tight smile on his purse lips. "What is this?" He waved at the glowing letters above her that had begun to fade as the girl's optimism did too.
"Do you…" She choked on her words. "Do you want to go to the Yule Ball," She paused for a moment swallowing the word that had choked in her throat. "with me?" She looked at him with large and hopeful eyes.
He was quiet for a moment before answering.
It took him only a couple of seconds to answer but time felt like it was moving slower. It might as well have five maybe ten minutes of silence between them.
"Yeah, I would," he spoke softly. Yet despite his positive affirmation, his expression was a sullen one filled with confusion. Her heart leapt for a moment as she held her breath waiting for his answer. "But I thought you were going with Malfoy?"
Silence.
Now it was her turn to be confused. "You mean-" She hoped he had gotten the names messed up. "Cedric?" She asked him with a knotted brow.
"No, I mean Malfoy," the wavy-haired teen repeated. "I heard you two are going together."
She listened not believing a word he was saying.
"I would've asked you myself, but I didn't want to step on anyone's toes," he shook his head slightly. "So, I asked a friend instead."
She wore a blank expression on her face as the anger began to bubble inside of her. He found it hard to tell just what she could possibly be running through her mind. She had no volatile reaction to his words.
"Word is you begged him to go with you."
It was almost as if he was purposely provoking her, drilling and pushing into her buttons which he was more than well aware would make her blow up despite how cool and collected she had been trying to appear.
Nel's hands were tightly clenched at her sides gripping her wand tightly. Her eyes turned into angry slits, resembling the ones of somebody that could and would kill.
"That I what?" She drawled out now absolutely livid her voice a low hiss.
Ellar's head snapped to the side when he heard a loud pop and saw one of the dim lights of the tower pop making shattered glass fly everywhere. One by one each and every one of them exploded until the two were consumed by an unfamiliar darkness. In a blind rage the girl stormed out of the tower seeking an exit. He stood in the darkness wearing a satisfied sneer.
Xxx
Portraits in Hogwarts shrunk, rare students and even some prefects stepped out of the way as they saw the girl full on rampage stomping down the moving stairs making way to the Slytherin dormitory where she was ready to drag someone out of bed and potentially murder them in cold blood. And by them she meant Draco Malfoy who was suddenly turning in the stairs of the second floor.
"You!" Her loud shout echoed the stairs waking up some of the sleeping portraits as she descended the moving stairs. Malfoy was out of luck as the moving stairs that lead to the third floor moved skewing the directly in his direction. Whipping out her want red sparks flew as she attacked the Slytherin with repeated crimson flashes.
"You conniving, evil, ferret-weasel!" She shouted at him each word being followed by a nasty hex. "You ruined everything!" She shouted at him. Large frames rattled as they trembled and were tossed off the walls. People in the portraits screaming or collapsing as their frames came down to hit the floor.
"Expeliarmus!" Draco managed to disarm her. She didn't look twice for her wand; she didn't need need magic to do what she was going to do. She leapt off the second step and pushed him back tumbling on top of him. She was about to strike him, but he caught her hands in his.
"I can explain," He attempted to barter with the enraged girl.
"I would rather hear a mandragora scream than listen to whatever pathetic lie you're about to pull out of your ass!" She shouted enraged. The only thing she wanted, the only thing she had been expecting of this year was to have a decent date with a boy she fancied at the Yule Ball and he had taken that away from her and for no good reason. Her dress it would be for nothing. She had been robbed.
"Elowen, please, let me explain," He swallowed the barbwire knot that had formed on his throat. She let go of his hands pushing them away from her and sat back on the floor looking at him with glassy eyes.
He wanted to ask her to the ball. In a way he had. Not properly. But the two were friends. The two could go to the Yule Ball as friends. However,… What would his parents say? What would his mother think?
When his mother had asked him who he planned on escorting to the Yule Ball he had lied and written home that he wasn't interested in any of the girl's his year. His mother had suggested him escorting a Pureblooded young lady such as Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson or even Millicent Bullstrode. Neither Davis or Saintday had been amongst his mother's options and then again, why would they be?
Both of them were barren from Pureblood Society since their names were not included in the Sacred Twenty-Eight Directory.
His father had a peculiar attention for Saintday and so did the Lestranges, but that didn't change the fact that she was a nameless nobody without a knut to her name.
He didn't need to ask to for their permission to know that they would never approve. It simply wasn't what was expected of him. If anything, it would perhaps make things worse… However, if he could make it seem as if the two just happened to end up going together – his parents could've been upset, but they would have let it slide. After all it wouldn't have been his fault that the two just happened to end up there together.
"I thought we were friends!" She spoke before he could. "This isn't what friends do to each other. You're a liar and a cheat and I can't believe I trusted you! I do this to myself, over, and over, and over, and over again," She wiped a stray tear that escaped the corner of her eye.
From a higher floor Theodore and Daphne who were also looking for their friend had begun rapidly descending when they heard the commotion of the many paintings collapsing. Tracey ran from the floors below as the five Slytherins met halfway.
"If this is what it's like being your friend, I don't want it!" She tossed angrily standing up as her friends reached her side.
"Nel, please," He could've begged. He stood up feeling both small and self-conscious under the deathly daggers of all her friends were shooting him. Davis already had her wand pointed at him ready to attack and Saintday's in her other.
"Stay away from me!" Nel shouted at him with a broken voice before walking away, her two girl friends following behind. Davis shot him a look that could kill before descending down the staircase. Greengrass shook her head seeming almost disappointed. Even Nott didn't seem pleased as he stuck around levitating the portraits back into their appropriate places and positions on the wall.
"You're a foul git you know that?" Theodore shot him a nasty glare. He had never been one for confrontation but riled up and just as angry as his friends he had to say something.
"Shove off Nott," Malfoy spat back angrily. Who was Theodore Nott to judge him? "You think you're better than all of us judging with your beak hidden behind a rotting book."
"If you wanted her to go to the bloody ball with you, why didn't you just ask?" He shrugged in disbelief at the blonde's childishness.
Theodore thought Draco wouldn't answer him, but his words brought him to a halt.
"You know why," He uttered darkly.
Words which sadly resonated with Theo. There was a reason why he had never invited his friends over to his home.
"What do you think your ancient father would do if you took someone like Saintday home with you?"
Theo didn't want to think about his aggressive father or the things he would say or do to him or his friends if they ever met. He had never confronted his father about it, but the rumor was that Theodore Nott Sr. had even known Voldemort even before he became You-Know-Who. Rumors where he was one of the first Death Eaters. Having fought for the dark side in the Wizarding War being an elderly widower, it seemed like Nott had avoided being sent to Azkaban simply by appearing vulnerable and playing his cards right. However, Saintday…
"She's not like the others and you know that," Theo spat back. "You think the Lestranges took her in out of the kindness and generosity of their hearts?"
Draco was silent his lips drawn into a serious thin line. Finally hanging the last portrait Nott turned to speak properly to Malfoy. Saintday, Davis and Nott never discussed their personal lives at Hogwarts. It was some type of silent unspoken rule that the three had sworn never to cross. Just as Theo never asked Nel about the odd bruises she would sometimes wear she'd never inquire about his family's past siding with the Dark Lord.
"Both, you and I know that they want something from her. Sirius Black taking her away as an infant, living hidden amongst muggles for twelve years, private lessons with Snape, the Lestranges, her being a Parselmouth, the fact she can see therstals…" He trailed off before leaning in close.
Draco was a little stunned at the revelation that Nel could see Therstals. It was a fact that only people that had seen death could see these horrible creatures.
"Whatever it is that they want, it's dark, and it's not… good. Nel already has enough on her plate. She could do without you tormenting her," his green eyes raked the silver haired blonde before scowling his way and leaving Draco to stand under the judging eyes of the school's portraits.
Xxxx
"I would curse him," Tracey paced the second-floor girl's bathroom. "I swear, I would curse him but he's already a pathetic and sad," Tracey tossed angrily under her breath as she paced in circles.
"Just stop," Nel shook her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose keeping her head lowered. She really didn't want to think about what had happened with Ellar and specially not with Malfoy.
She could've lived knowing that Ellar didn't want to go with her but knowing that Malfoy had pulled off that nasty trick. Specially after he claimed the two were friends. She didn't know what they were, but whatever they were it wasn't friends. Friends didn't do that to each other.
"It's just-!" Tracey's hands twitched as she clawed and closed them in frustration. "Why-? Like-? WHO DOES THAT?! What was he thinking?"
"I don't think he was…" The orphan kept her head lowered pessimistically.
"Nel," Daphne who had been silent all of this time, yet remained observant began. "Have you thought that," She wondered out loud. She wasn't even sure how to proceed what she was going to say without triggering a fight with both of her friends. Both Tracey and Elowen looked at her with confused expressions at what she was so hesitant to say.
"Maybe Draco really did want to go to the Yule Ball with you," She suggested the theory which sounded incredulous to the two other girls. Nel kept her eyes lowered and particularly focused on a wet spot on the bathroom floor. Really not wanting to dissect what Daphne had just said.
"No," Tracey shook her head in denial. "That's just- no," she said borderline disgusted by the theory she deemed to be ridiculous. The odds of the Ballcastle Bats winning the British Quidditch Cup were higher.
"It's not that farfetched," Daphne insisted strongly believing in her peculiar theory. "Think about it. He's constantly hovering around you; he literally pulls your hair in class, and he's always trying to get your attention-" She was interrupted by Tracey.
"Daph, he's just a bully-" She was again interrupted by Daphne who had already began her tangent on this analysis.
"Good or bad – he always tries to get Nel's attention."
The two other Slytherins were still giving the blonde a confused look. It was almost as if she was speaking alien to the two of them.
"What I'm trying to say is that maybe- in case it hasn't crossed either of your minds - maybe he likes you!" She announced. The silence after her sentence was impressive. So impressive you could hear a sink leak drop and drop at the end of the bathroom's sink.
"Daph, that's toxic," Tracey coughed awkwardly after a moment of heavy silence. "What? Malfoy? No- there's no way," She stammered thinking about how ridiculous it was for the scenario to be in the slightest bit realistic.
"I never said it wasn't toxic!" Daphne said defensively simply raising up her hands. "All I'm saying is-"
The two friends began bickering back and forth about how possible or impossible this way. One more passionate than other in the suddenly becoming heated debate. Nel didn't want to think about anything. Burying her face in her hands and taking in a deep stressful breath her two friends grew quiet.
"That's enough," She exhaled finally sitting up. "I don't want to talk about it. Malfoy, Ellar, any of that," She shook her head to the sides. "Trace," she turned to look at her friend. "Do you to go to the ball with me?"
Maybe she should've done this since the beginning. Simply ask a friend to go with her. I mean why not? She would've asked Daphne, but she knew that she would be attending the Yule Ball with Theodore.
Nel didn't know what she had been expecting but Tracey grew silent at her question. There was a pregnant silence. It went on long enough that her friends questioned why she had grown mute.
"…I already asked someone," She admitted quietly, almost sullenly as she eggshelled around the topic.
Normally Daphne would've been excited so would've Elowen but instead both looked at her with the same grave expression. "Who?" They had to ask.
Tracey took in a deep breath and rubbed the nape of her neck nervously as she braced herself to reveal just where and who she had been spending so much of her time with.
"Leanne Moon, Hufflepuff," she looked at them with a lowered head fearing the judgement that could come.
Nel scrunched up her nose at the revelation. Who was Leanne Moon? It took her a moment to jog her memory and then she remembered that over excited Hufflepuff that had been taking photographs of Tracey during her Quidditch practice. She had seen her around the castle photographic shadows and other moving objects.
Tracey closed her eyes, getting ready to leave, already feeling a cold sinkhole forming in her heart.
"A Hufflepuff?" Daphne snorted letting out a laugh. Nel elbowed the girl sitting next to her also laughing slightly. Both of her friends flashed Tracey an accepting smile that almost made her forget what she had been worrying about for so long. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
"I hope she's cool," Elowen said with the first grin of the night. "Just tell her to stay away from the punch."
xxxxx
STARRING
THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES
with
ARDEN CHO as LEANNE MOON
and
NIKKI BLONSKY as MILICENT BULLSTRODE
Xxxxx
AN: Next episode, finally, the YULE BALLLLLLL
Draco Malfoy and the Breakfast Blunder
Draco has a special surprise for his boyfriend, but will everything go as he has it planned or will it all go awry? (Domestic fluff)
Harry Potter awoke early one morning to a loud crack in the kitchen downstairs. He smiled softly to himself and rolled over onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Draco, is that you?” he yelled.
The blond jumped at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “Shit,” he muttered before calling back up. “Yes. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“No, I’m just…” he devised a quick fib, “getting in the shower.”
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, take your time.”
Reaching to the bedside table and putting on his glasses, he managed to drag his still half-asleep body out of his warm bed and shivered as soon as his feet hit the cold hard wood floor. He grabbed his old Gryffindor towel out of the closet and hung it around his neck. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Draco whirled around, dispensing various food articles and parcels from the black satchel he had draped over his arm. “Not a problem. I’ll be waiting.” After he had emptied the remainder of the contents, he surveyed them with mild exhaustion at the prospect of what he was about to do.
His first task at hand was a frittata. Unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, he read the directions in his mother’s elegant script. After pre-heating the oven, he took down a small cast iron skillet from the hanging rack and was on his way. He began chopping up the mound of ham, peppers, onions, potatoes and cheese into equal sized bits. Smiling proudly at his handiwork, he moved onto the eggs. He reached a bowl out of the cabinet, and cracked half a dozen eggs into it and added a bit of milk. He beat them with a fork and then folded the other ingredients into the pale yellow mixture and proceeded to dump them into the pan. He slid the pan into the oven and said quietly, to himself, “Not bad, Draco. Just keep calm and everything will go as planned.” He drew his wand from the breast pocket of his grey-blue blazer and cast aguamenti, washing the bowl out without alerting Harry to his doings.
Next, he put the kettle on to boil. He chuckled at his ongoing triumph in the kitchen. He had never tried before, but he couldn’t see the issue that people had with cooking.
He walked over to the small cake on the counter and rolled the small tube of icing next to it in his hands. This was going to be difficult, but he knew he could manage. Even as a child, his writing had been impeccable. He managed to get most of it on in neat, even letters but as a cramp began in his right hand, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to finish without some sort of glitch. He decided on a slight change from “Harry” to “love” and continued on. When he had finished, he smiled down at the gleaming gold frosting.
He was starting to smell the breakfast, so he decided that it was time to put the toast in. His steel blue eyes scoured the kitchen for something that looked like it would house the capability to toast bread. Finally, his gaze fell upon a silver machine with 4 slots. Perfect. He pressed the two levers until they clicked into place, turned around to retrieve the bread and jumped as, moments later, he heard a loud snap, almost akin to an apparition.
Brandishing his wand, he investigated. He had expressly told Harry’s friends not to come by until later, so it shouldn’t have been them. Who could it possibly be? He stuck his head around the corner and gazed into the next room and then climbed upstairs. There was one there. He walked back into the kitchen and saw that the toast making machine had rejected his pressure. He cursed muggle technology and fiddled with the two dials. Nothing disobeyed a Malfoy, especially not some confounded machine. Confounded… that was it. Perhaps it just needed a bit of persuasion. “Imperio.” He then put the bread into the four slots, and ordered it to make the bread into a golden toast. After staring intently at his reflection in the chrome, he slammed the two levers down. Something had to go wrong eventually. He folded his arms and leaned against the counter.
The four pieces of what were supposed to be toast ejected. Instead of the flaxen color he had intended, they had obtained more of an appearance of charcoal. Draco tossed the offending items aside. “I’ll teach you to burn my toast,” he growled, ego as injured as the toast. He disconnected the cord and placed the object in the middle of the floor. “Depulso!” The gleaming monstrosity slammed into a shelf, rattling soup cans in its wake. He wasn’t yet satisfied. “Confringo,” he near-yelled. The toaster exploded, sending bits of metal scattering about. Here he was, Draco Malfoy, feeling defeated by an inanimate object of muggle manufacture. The mere thought of it was enough to send him retreating.
A strand of hair fell into his eyes. With a huff, he smoothed it back into place. He slammed the heel of his other hand down onto the spot of, what he had expected to be, counter that wound up being the edge of the cake. “Shit,” he hissed, scraping the icing and bits of cake into the sink. He leaned down on the edge, thankful for the coolness of the steel sink on his face, which was now blushing fiercely, creating a strong contrast with his cool blue eyes and icy blond hair.
Some minutes had passed and now, a grey haze was overtaking the kitchen. “What the hell?” Draco opened the oven and was near engulfed by smoke. Without thinking, he reached in and attempted to pull the dish out. It slammed out onto the door as he let escape a shout of pain. He reached his hand into the freezer and grabbed an ice pack. He bit softly into his lip.
Upstairs, Harry was shutting off the faucet and wrapping his towel around his waist when he heard a large clatter from downstairs. “Dray?” he called. “Draco, are you alright?” When no response was heard, he ventured into the kitchen. He saw his boyfriend, doubled over, pressing an icepack to his hand between his knees with the entire scene shrouded in a thick smog. Bending down to get a better view, he asked “Draco, what happened,” voice brimming with concern for both his seemingly injured partner and the disarray of his kitchen. “Talk to me, love. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”
Draco let out a strangled cry. “I wanted to…” he stopped, remembering why he had done all of this in the first place. Freeing his uninjured hand, he cupped Harry’s jaw, bringing him in close. “Happy birthday, darling.” He kissed the dripping wet figure and then tried to gauge how angry he was.
“You did all of this for me?” Harry was flattered. He had forgotten that it was his own birthday. He had always hated it to begin with, but usually his friends made such a big deal he was forced to go along. This year, though, looked like he was really going to enjoy it. “Thank you, Draco.”
The taller boy sank further. “For what? All I did was muck everything up.”
Harry sighed. “Accio dittany.” As he squeezed a few drops onto his boyfriend’s singed hand, he searched Draco. Was he kidding? This was the most effort anyone had ever put forth for him. “For everything.” He moved to the window and jerked it open, trying to air out the smoke.
Draco had one last thing planned for this morning and, if he did say so himself, it was the pièce de résistance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. Mustering up all the bravado he could, given the circumstance, he tossed the box back and forth in his hands and playfully answered, “Well, if that’s the case, would you thank me if I asked you to marry me?”
By the time he question had been processed and Harry could turn around, Draco was on his knee, proffering a gold, double banded ring with two stones, a red and a green. “I know that we’d discussed it before, and we’d never really come to a conclusion, but Harry, I want to marry you. I want to live with you. I want to raise children together. I want us to be that old couple that walks past the café where we have lunch.” His voice was weakening, his hands were shaking and tears began to fall. “You are the love of my life and I… I don’t deserve you, but sometimes that’s the beauty of it. For years, you were known as ‘the chosen one’ but, now, if you’ll marry me, I think the title should be passed on to me.”
A film of tears lined the birthday boy’s eyes. “Yes,” he slid to his knees, directly in front of his lover. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Always, yes.”
His hands trembling, Draco slid the band out and onto Harry’s finger and kissed his hand, his arm, his chest, his cheek until finally Harry adjusted his aim for his mouth. Smiling through the kiss, Harry decided that this was absolutely his best birthday and definitely his favorite breakfast.
