Chapter 1: Charity
"Whoa," Moira breathed, watching the body pass the doorway. Draco was standing right behind her, watching the procession of Death Eaters levitating Charity Burbage's limp form past the door. They had blown out the candles a moment before and were now standing concealed by the darkness and the door, which they had cracked open. Moira turned her head and looked up into Draco's face, which looked stunned and scared. She took the smallest of steps backward, toward Draco, felt her shoulder blades touch his chest, then closed the door silently. She turned on the spot, put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently away from her as she stepped back into the room. "You don't see that every day," she commented, turing away from Draco and going over to light the nearest candle.
Draco did the same and they both walked around the edges of the room, lighting candles until they met in the middle, standing next to the window. As they walked, Draco replied, "No, you certainly don't." Moira looked around at him; he kept his eyes entirely focused on the candle he was lighting, then moved on. "There's a meeting tonight," Draco continued, "in the Dining Hall. That's why they've brought her here."
Moira continued walking, waving her hand over the candles, which ignited as she passed. Working with fire had alway been fun and easy for her. She kept her eyes on what she was doing as she said, "They'll kill her," as calmly as she could.
"I know," he said, feigning apathy and failing just as she had. Neither of them had the heart to actually do this. That was for certain. They had never said it aloud, but had both come to the silent agreement to help each other. "All because she published an article in the Prophet." They had both reached the back of the room, and were standing facing each other. "I told you I don't like the company here."
"Charity or the Death Eaters and Captain Crazy?"
She never failed to make him smile even when he knew he shouldn't. "The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord," he answered her. "Captain Crazy? Really?" Moira shrugged and smiled at him. It was funny to Draco that this carefree attitude of hers, this attitude that said 'I don't let anyone tell me what I can and can't, or should and shouldn't do', used to be something annoying to him. He liked that in her now, and he wished he had at least some of her tenacity.
It was then that both the Dark Marks on their forearms burned, summoning them. They both jumped at the sudden pain and looked away from each other, down at the black tattoos. "Want to go?" Moira asked. She always took everything as an invitation, an opportunity; no one gave her orders, they gave her suggestions.
"Not really," he answered honestly, but knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't go. His family was not quite off the hook. Moira did what she wanted when she wanted and the Dark Lord didn't complain too much because when she was useful, she was very useful and he wanted her on his side. "But I'm going to."
"Me too. Apathetic as I pretend to be I'm interested to see what Tom says to her. We can leave early, how about that?"
"What, just get up and walk out?" He looked confused as they started for the door together. Moira was putting out the candles behind them as they walked.
She shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" He gave her a meaningful look as he pulled the door open and stepped back to allow her to pass and she rolled her eyes.
They sat down beside each other at the long dining table. Draco on Moira's left, Lucius (who looked like death warmed over from his year in Azkaban) to Draco's left and an empty chair on Moira's right. There was an also empty space near the head of the table where Tom was sitting. The whole group was waiting for two people.
Several silent minutes past. Moira had chosen not to look at Charity until she had to, but she could see Draco's eyes looking up ever so often. It was brutal the way she was just hanging their, upside down, rotating around and around almost right above their heads. Her hair was knotted and their were cuts and bruises on her face. Even for Death Eaters, they had been unkind while capturing her.
Moira, socially awkward as she was, leaned over and whispered in Draco's ear so that no one else could hear, "It figures that this is your house and you and your parents have just about the worst seats here doesn't it?" He gave a very small nod and clenched his teeth together, looking as though he was about to be sick. He was still not entirely well from the events of last year. Some of his color had come back and he was eating more but the damage he had done to himself in that year had not been completely undone in a month's time.
As the doors opened Moira clicked her fingers once under the table, offering Draco her hand. His eyes moved quickly from Charity's face to where he could see her arm. She was not looking at him, but at Yaxley and Snape, who had just entered the room, but when he took her hand she did not jump.
Tom instructed the late arrivals where to sit. Snape took the seat near the head and Yaxley sat beside Moira, who didn't look at him even in greeting. 'Captain Crazy' as Moira called him spoke to Snape, who began to divulge the plans the Order of the Phoenix had been making over the past few weeks. Moira had not seen Dumbledore's portrait about what they were to tell him and what they were to keep silent about, but she must give the same story as Snape. When Tom looked at her for confirmation, she nodded but Yaxley spoke up.
"Dawlish?" Moira turned her face to him. "He's always been susceptible to being hexed. You don't think-," but Snape spoke over here, wisely on his part because Yaxley did not look happy at being addressed thus by Moira.
"The Ministry no longer plays a part in the boy's protection." Moira, irritated, shut the conversation out from that point onward. She would not be a member of the party sent after Potter and therefore did not need to be mentally present until Charity was brought in. If she did need to be aware of the proceedings, someone was sure to get her attention, or Draco would inform her later.
Draco saw Moira lean her head back on her chair and he wished he could have her peace of mind and her confidence. Sometimes, like now for instance, he wished she would be more careful, but it would be nice for him to have some of her attitude. A 50/50 mix between the two extremes would be ideal.
Moira was roused twice from her drowsy state. Once when many of the Death Eaters were stamping around like elephants, jeering at the Malfoys and once when she heard the scream from the cellar. Draco cringed at the scream and Moira looked sideways at him and gripped his hand a little tighter. He tried to sit calmly on his seat as his father was forced to hand over his wand to the Dark Lord and averted his eyes from all others when his father requested that he be loaned Tom's wand as compensation for his own.
When Voldemort flicked his want to wake Charity Burbage Moira sat up straight again, earning herself a glance from Yaxley. She heard the Dark Lord ask whether Snape recognized her, then felt Draco's hand cling more tightly to her own as he was addressed and then ignored again.
Charity was crying as she fought the invisible ropes that held her. She was pleading with Snape to help her, to have mercy on his friend, and even though Snape was not a nice person to speak with, Moira knew that had they been in other company he may have done something to help her. She revolved again, still begging for help. Draco kept a tight grip on Moira's hand to prevent her from doing something irrational. For such a smart person, she did do a great many things that were completely illogical. He remembered her words from the tower a month ago. 'There was nothing you could have ever done. Death is inevitable,' and hoped those words were worth more to her than just the feeling that she knew he was relaxing as he stared at the man he was supposed to kill.
Moira looked from Charity to Draco, mouthed 'I know,' to him, and looked back at the professor. Her eyes stayed fixed (though perhaps they got a little wider) as the jet of green light hit the poor woman, who then fell to the table with a loud crash. "Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort. Everyone but Moira watched the snake glide forward over the polished wood of the table. Moira pushed back her chair, letting go of Draco's hand before she did so and turned to leave. "Going somewhere?" She spun around again at the sound of Voldemort's voice. Nagini stopped too. She even looked up from her prey to watch Moira.
"This is insane and disgusting. I'm not watching it." And she turned and walked away. After a quick look at his mother and father, Draco followed her.
Disclaimer: Don't own
AN: Sorry for the delay. College is crazy and I'm trying not to post stuff on here before I have the story completed otherwise I tend to leave people with a half-finished product and that's no ok.
Anyway, what do you think? Also, as far as characters and personality go, are Moira and Draco the same Moira and Draco we know and love from the first fic or are they weird? Let me know.
Also, by the way, because we saw so very little of Draco in the 7th book, there is significantly more in this fic about his and Moira's friendship. I'm not really sure if that's going to be good or bad for you guys, so let me know.