There are times meant for breaking
And words to ignore
And a bent to our souls
When our skin is at war
If leaving were freedom
Well, we'd both walk right out of that door
Maybe we can stay
'Til the last drop of water flows under the bridge
I hummed a little while I strolled down Diagon Alley, attempting to keep away from my parents as far as possible. They were muggles, they had no idea what to do with the streets filled with witches and wizards, dressed in all sorts of magical finery. Someone passed by wearing bright teal robes, and my mother looked all but ready to faint when he got too close to her. It made me chuckle a little bit, but that was cruel. Or at least it sort of was. My parents were too skittish to ever really get used to this Wizarding World stuff.
"Hey Evelyn!" I spun when I heard my real name. I frowned, expecting to see someone like Pansy Parkinson in the small alleyway where my name had been yelled from. Instead, a petite blonde girl wearing relatively hip robes was leaning up against the side of a building, smiling mischievously. I smiled and sauntered towards her.
"Oh hey Lindsey. I thought you weren't going to recognize me," I responded, smiling at Lindsey. She was my rock at Hogwarts, probably the only thing that kept me from blowing my brains out. She understood my frustration being stuck in a school that stifled any creativity and any sort of question of authority. Honestly, most muggle schools let you have some freedom. So why didn't witches and wizards get any?
"Well regardless of you being stuck halfway around the world this summer, I'm still your best friend," She reminded me, quickly bring her hand to her face to shield her aquamarine eyes from the sun. I grabbed my Ray-bans from my pocket and shoved them on her face. I've never seen her look so grateful.
"I like Australia," I responded, tucking a lock of sun-bleached brown hair behind my ears. My hair turns from dark brown to golden brown every summer. Saying goodbye to my golden hair was another shitty thing about the end of summer.
"Yeah well Australia is too expensive to visit, even for the daughter of a Ministry employee." She paused to take the sunglasses off and began to walk away from the building. I followed behind her, not really caring where my parents were. "It may help your tan, but it sure as hell does not help our wonderful line of communication."
I shrugged. "You didn't miss much. My last letter in July pretty much covered everything."
"Aaron dumped you over a month ago Evelyn. It's time to stop mourning," She said, and then paused in the middle of the street. "Like with him." She pointed at Draco Malfoy, who'd appeared before us with startling speed. I hadn't even noticed him. He was about halfway down the street, staring straight at me.
"It's not like that with him—" I was cut off by a hand suddenly appearing on my wrist. Within seconds I was pulled into apparating out of Diagon Alley…to somewhere that I'd never seen before. I thudded down onto a dark wood floor, feeling a little queasy after the nonconsensual trip.
"Evi!" A voice called out from somewhere next to me, trying to wake me up. It wasn't until then I realized that I was unable to see at the moment. It took me a solid minute to be able to sit up, and then with a final force of strength I pried open my eyes. I attempted to comprehend the scene around me—I was in a gothic looking living room, one with a large bay window exactly across the room from me. I turned forward again, but instead of seeing anything inviting, I saw a large portrait of a man frowning down on me. The best part of all of this was that I was planted in the center of the room. With everyone in the room staring down at me. There were only about six people in the room, but they all looked a little embarrassed at my crash landing. I was kidnapped. What did they expect?
"Evi, are you alright?" The same voice from before called out. I turned towards the place where I heard the voice from. There was Draco Malfoy, being restrained by some sort of gargantuan thug. I shook my head, trying to comprehend everything. But my mind was still moving too slowly—I couldn't really process where I was or what was going on. And who were these people looking at me?
"Draco…" I said without really meaning to. "Draco where am I? Why am I here?" I tried to make more syllables come out of my mouth, but instead I lost control of my body and slumped over. My consciousness faded out once more as I heard footsteps and more people move toward me.
I awoke from unconsciousness in what seemed like days. I heard murmurs of what was around me. It seemed there were two people standing near me, whispering about something I couldn't really make out.
"…this is really our hope…"
"…no we'll…we'll trust…"
My senses were finally returning to me. I could feel my toes and my fingers again, and my head was no longer as fuzzy as it was when I'd woken up in the living room. Sound became clearer again and I felt alive. But I knew it was unwise to open my eyes. So I stayed still.
"We've been gifted with something magnificent here. She can't kill him, but she can trap him. She's what we needed. She's our only way to get him."
"But we can't put all our faith in this girl. She barely passes for a witch…"
I opened my eyes suddenly, anger filling my body. I was a damn good witch. Just because I fail to follow the rules 100% of the time does not mean I was a horrible witch.
There was a sudden shift in the feeling of the room.
"Seems like our conversation is no longer private," One of the voices remarked incredulously. I struggled to see into the corner, but I suddenly realized I was glued down to the table I was lying on. There were invisible barriers around my arms, I knew it.
"Don't struggle too hard." One of the voices spoke from the blackness, now coming nearer to my body. I was paralyzed against the metal table, unable to even move my head, so it was impossible to see who was now standing behind me.
"Since you asked so nicely," I retorted, feeling a little temperamental. I never really did well in the aspect of respecting authority.
In a sudden flash of black smoke, a tall, opposing figure appeared in front me. His red, beady eyes shown through porcelain white slits in the center of his face, surrounded by multitudes of wrinkles. His face was as white as the crescent moon and his flattened nose came into what looked like a beak. Slowly I formed an idea that frightened me to such a degree I couldn't stand. The person standing before me was…
"Lord Voldemort." He finished my sentence before I could even really form it inside my head. "I knew you'd recognize me. Now do you seem more inclined to show me respect?"
I immediately froze under the restraints and pushed my head as far onto the table as possible in order to avoid nearing his face. It was almost like he was reaching into my soul and trying to pull it from my body with merely his eyes. I nodded imperceptibly at his question, not necessarily conscience of the fact that I had power over my own body.
"Master I think it best we inform the girl before she becomes too frightened to yield to our request." This voice appeared from the left hand side of the room, but the figure was still in the dark. I thanked God for him though, because I felt faint simply being in the presence of Lord Voldemort. Every inch of my body slowly relaxed as Voldemort apparated away, but his cold presence still left my body whirring with worry.
The other person in the room emerged from the shadow of the back room, revealing that it was not a stranger but rather Severus Snape, the potions teacher at Hogwarts. I frowned, letting it register in my mind that he was there. Wasn't he loyal to Dumbledore? But I was careful to not let anything show on my face. Nothing affected me.
"Let the girl sit up Wormtail," Lord Voldemort called from the other part of the room he'd vanished to. It felt slightly better that he was not in my sight, but that same fact also seemed to be even more threatening.
Before I knew it was being propped up on the metal table, forced against the wall, and yet still totally unable to control any of my limb movements. But then the invisible ropes seemed to fall off, and I was finally able to move my appendages. I scrunched my hands up, trying to get the feeling back in them because they were insanely sore now.
"Sorry about the restraints, Evelyn is it?" I nodded as Voldemort moved in front of me once more. "We do that because people are generally startled when they wake up in this room. They have a tendency to try to escape," He commented, slowly moving across the room. He snapped his fingers and a small, short man ran out of another dark corner and lit the fireplace behind Voldemort. I hadn't even realized there was a fireplace in the room before he lit it. But now the dark shadows had been chased out of the room and I could see we were in some sort of run down bedroom, with moldy, chipping wallpaper lining the walls and decrepit wood molding lining the top of the surrounding walls. It was certainly not a very pleasing room.
"I won't try to escape," I responded, trying not to sound too scared. I was usually not afraid of anything. But this—him—I was shivering I was so frightened.
"You're a smart girl, I know you won't." Voldemort attempted a smile, but instead it looked like he was merely baring his pointed, razor sharp teeth.
"So, Evelyn, there's a reason I brought you here today," Voldemort began, once more taking a place in front of the fireplace. "I have something to ask you."
I shivered. I knew this would be bad.