A Whole New World Chapter 3
Wearing her favourite pair of blue wash jeans and white converse, Octavia strolled through the grand castle grounds beside Pansy. There wasn't a whole lot to do during the weekends at Hogwarts lately, given the recommencing Quidditch games that took place. The consequence of this meant that the rest of the clique tended to be on the pitch, either participating in the games and practices, or watching from the stands.
As Draco and Harry had been successful in their try-outs for the Slytherin Quidditch team, both earning their respective positions as seeker and chaser, all the boys in their group were at the practice taking place on the pitch. Pansy and Octavia had decided that there was nothing much else to do that murky Saturday morning, so had opted to attend the practice and sit with Blaise and Theo.
While Octavia wasn't particularly a fan of the sport, she didn't mind enjoying the company of Blaise Zabini. He and Octavia had become quite good friends over the first six months of their first year. Yes, he was an arrogant and sometimes pompous boy, but Octavia considered him to be considerably humorous, and quite fun to be around at times. He had even taught her how to cheat in Hangman and Exploding Snap without the use of magic. Of course, Octavia was a witch, so should be able to employ magic whilst cheating, but could barely manage a simple spell without blowing everyone up. Only last Wednesday had Octavia sent Professor Snape flying through the room by tapping her wand against the rim of her cauldron.
Luckily, as she was a Slytherin, Snape didn't punish her too severely. But as his pride had been injured, she had the misfortune of serving detention in the potions lab that very evening. No doubt scrubbing grimy old cauldrons by hand.
Pansy and Octavia walked arm in arm through the grassy grounds of the castle, making their way toward the pitch ahead. As they neared, however, they noticed that the practice had ended, or had yet to begin. The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams stood near the stands, seemingly arguing with one another. What was peculiar about the situation, though, was that Hermione was with the Gryffindor team.
Ah. It made sense now.
Hermione was with Ron Weasley, who appeared to be with the Quidditch team, which comprised of three of his brothers: Percy, and two identical twins who Octavia couldn't tell apart.
Approaching the tense atmosphere surrounding the teams, Octavia and Pansy remained quiet as they listened to the altercation. The Slytherin team had their backs to the two new arrivals, and the Gryffindors faced them with varied expressions of ridicule and incredulity.
Oliver Wood had seemingly just spoked vile words to Draco, who quickly responded with insults regarding Wood's muggle heritage.
"I don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families."
"Maybe you should judge worth on talent and pure skill," Hermione said importantly.
"How dare you speak to me," Draco hissed, his words barely audible to Octavia. "You filthy little mudblood."
A unison of shocked gasps echoed through the Gryffindors, Hermione's eyes widening as her lips parted in horror. It wasn't the first time Draco had called her such a foul word, but it was not a term that was heard in everyday conversation, so it definitely packed a punch. A gut wrenching, soul shattered, derogatory punch that left its victims rendered of speech.
Absolute fury surged through Octavia as she barged past Harry and Blaise, storming right over to Draco's back. With all her meagre might, Octavia shoved Draco harshly, her palms connecting with his shoulder blades as he stumbled forward. One hand gripping his Nimbus 2000, Draco spun around to face his attacker, his free hand gripping his wand tightly.
Octavia didn't falter in the slightest as the searing tip of his wand pressed against the dip of her neck and collarbone, Draco's molten silver eyes radiating murderous fury. A flicker of recognition and regret flashed in his glowing eyes, his aggressive stance relaxing quickly. Her upper lip curled in distaste as he blinked stupidly at her, his wand lowering and expression morphing into stunned shame.
"What about me?" Octavia spat, stepping toward him, her face tilted upwards as she glowered up at the prat. "What am I, then?"
Draco blushed as his brows knitted together, his gaze averting to the ground as though he was too ashamed to meet her furious hazel eyes. The miserable frown was almost concealed by the damp blonde hair that fell over his forehead, but she saw it.
Both Gryffindor and Slytherin groups remained silent, watching with wide eyes as the Malfoy heir submitted, not speaking a word in response. Hermione glanced with watery honey eyes between the two, her bottom lip wobbling as she threatened to burst into tears at any given moment. But Octavia only had eyes for Draco, and it wasn't with the sweetness in which it sounded.
Sparkling hazel eyes were swarming and glistening with outrage, shimmers of hurt there to see for anyone who looked. Draco didn't. He swallowed before clearing his throat, his eyes still on the ground.
"You're not …" Draco whispered, Harry watching with a wide spread grin. "I didn't mean it."
"You know what you are?" Octavia shouted, Draco keeping his gaze on the dewy grass below. "You're a slimy cowardly snake! And not even a cool one, like a cobra or python. You're like one of those gross little water snakes that are pretty much worms! You're a worm!"
Draco's lips pressed together in a tight line, his sad silver eyes rising to meet her gaze, his brows knitted together as he appeared utterly dejected and downcast. Some snickers rippled through the small crowd, predominantly coming from the awe-struck Gryffindors. Even Harry snickered quietly, his forearm resting on Blaise's shoulders as he watched in a casual stance.
Realising that he wasn't going to respond, Octavia barged by him huffily, knocking her shoulder against his intentionally. She stomped over to her teary eyed cousin, snatching her hand and hauling her away from the crowd, Pansy at their heels.
O didn't glance over her shoulder to see if Draco was watching her, for she could feel his gaze on the back of her head. No hex or barbed words came as she stormed off, but Hermione barely managed to reach the castle before her tears took hold.
Octavia stood at the mirror in her dormitory, pulling her wild blonde curls into a high messy bun atop her head. Pansy lounged on her four-poster bed against the wall, the ever-silent Daphne perched on the edge of the small square bath in the centre of the room. Octavia never really understood the purpose of the small bath of cold water in the girl's dormitory, for it wasn't the fresh clean water that one would normally bathe in. Perhaps it was more of a décor feature than a practical one?
As Octavia prepared herself for her detention, Pansy rolled over onto her belly and continued to scribble a letter to her parents. No doubt filled with lies about how she didn't associate with Octavia anymore. Pansy hadn't told O about her parents' disapproval of their friendship, but O had riffled through her friend's belongings a few weeks ago and found a less than pleasant letter from Lord Parkinson. To say that they didn't like Octavia's blood status would be an understatement. Octavia could now officially say that she had been called the 'M' word. It had stung so badly that she had cried in the shower, the sounds of her sobs muffled by the stream of running water that washed over her.
Perhaps that is the reason for Octavia's act of revenge on Draco. Not so much the shouting at him in front of everyone on the Quidditch pitch, but definitely what came after. Octavia had ratted him out to Professor Snape, the Head of House left with no choice but to issue him detention as well.
Of course, he wouldn't have given Draco detention had Octavia not informed him of his behaviour right in front of the Headmaster. It was all about timing, you see. For if she had waited until Snape was alone, Draco would have received no punishment at all. He was the teacher's pet.
"Do you think Draco will have the same detention as you tonight?" Pansy asked, chewing on the end of her quill.
"I dunno," Octavia shrugged, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. "I hope not. That'd be super awkward."
"Serves him right," Pansy smirked. "The bigger the punishment the better, I think."
Octavia nodded as she fiddled with the stray curls that had escaped her bun.
"I thought he was going to cry," Pansy grinned. "Honestly, when you were shouting at him, I really did think he would start crying."
"Whatever," Octavia frowned. "He deserved it."
"Yeah," Pansy agreed. "It was pretty funny though. I've never seen him let anyone yell at him before. Normally he would just hex a person for trying to shout at him, except his father of course."
"Well, he better not hex me," Octavia sniffed. "I'm a master at blowing people up, so he should be careful."
Pansy laughed as she nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with the snootily declared statement. Octavia didn't intentionally blow things up, but that only made her magic more frightening. Pansy was certain that it would cause severe injuries to an unfortunate victim one day.
"Ugh, I should go," Octavia groaned, glancing at the clock on her black wooden nightstand.
"Have fun," Pansy sang, a wicked smirk on her lips.
Rolling her eyes at her friends teasing, Octavia grabbed her wand from the edge of her bed and stuck it into the stretched pocket of her jeans. The same pocket that Hermione had cast an undetectable extension charm on during their train ride to Hogwarts.
"Smell ya later, alligator," Octavia chimed, scurrying through the huge and cold dormitory toward the exit.
"In a while, crocodile," Pansy sang with the response she learned from Octavia.
Octavia exited the dormitory, slamming the heavy door behind her as she jumped down the stairs, two steps at a time. As she reached the unusually busy common room, she released a puff of breath at seeing Draco descending the boy's dormitory staircase closest to the exit, Blaise by his side.
His silver eyes quickly found hers as he came to a stop at the base of the steps, evidently waiting for her to approach. Holding her head high, Octavia tottered on over to the pair.
"Harry Potter!" A sixth year by the fireplace hollered. "Harry Potter! Anyone seen Harry?"
"He's in the dorm," Blaise drawled, jerking his head to the staircase he just stepped down.
"Get him, will ya?" The sixth year shouted. "There's a face in the fireplace for him."
As she walked over to Draco, Octavia cast a side-glance at the simmering fireplace. There was indeed a face in the flames; that of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. He visited frequently by means of the fireplace. It seemed that he and Harry were quite close with one another. Sirius shot her a soft smile as she waved in passing before reaching Draco.
Blaise had already taken off at a jog up the staircase, presumably to retrieve his comrade. Octavia turned toward the exit as she reached Draco, the blond boy falling into step beside her as they pushed through the heavy wooden doors that were slatted with hunks of metal. They strode down the last few steps after the doorway, coming to a stop by the stone gargoyle.
Two Ravenclaw girls were bickering with the gargoyle in an attempt to gain entrance to the Slytherin common room, the red-head's robes featuring a shiny Prefects badge.
"Hey, can you tell this stupid thing to let us in?" The Prefect asked, glancing between Draco and Octavia.
Octavia quirked her brow at the request, whereas Draco scowled at the girl.
"No outsiders allowed," both Draco and the gargoyle responded in perfect unison.
"Who are you looking for?" Octavia asked politely. "I can go get them for you."
"No, we want to go in," the Prefect shook her head. "My boyfriend's in there, and it's his birthday. I want to surprise him."
"Sorry," Octavia shrugged. "No outsiders allowed."
"So we've heard," the other girl droned bitterly. "That's a silly rule."
"Well, it's a rule that has been in place for over seven centuries," Draco drawled, grabbing O's arm and steering them away from the two vexed girls.
Octavia yanked her arm out of his grip as they made their way down the corridor, the Ravenclaws continuing to bicker with the stone gargoyle. It was no use, Octavia knew. There wasn't a happy chance in Azkaban that they'd be permitted entry to the Slytherin common room. Octavia didn't know the reason for the rule, and she didn't necessarily agree with it, but it was just the Slytherin way. It was one of those rules that you abided by, without question. Who was Octavia to go against seven hundred years of tradition?
As they journeyed through the dim and dank dungeons of the castle, Octavia and Draco fell into a silence. Neither spoke, and the atmosphere suddenly thickened with undeniable amounts of awkwardness. Octavia truly wished that the silence would continue for the duration of their detention, for she had nothing to say to the boy. He had called her cousin a most despicable word – twice. It was filthy, prejudicial and disgusting. He obviously possessed double-standards when it came to Octavia, for he had claimed that he didn't mean what he said the moment she confronted him. But if he didn't mean it, then why had he said it twice? It wasn't a word that was generally thrown around when one was upset or provoked. It was a vile word with the most derogatory of connotations, rivalling that of the 'N' word in the muggle world.
Octavia knew enough about the 'N' word to know that it was never acceptable for anyone of any race to speak it. The word held a vile and gruesome history, so no matter your colour of skin or age or beliefs, it should never be spoken. Just like the 'M' word in the wizarding world. It had an awful history of war and bloodshed attached to it, and centuries of oppression.
When Octavia had first gotten on the Hogwarts Express and journeyed to a new magical world of the unknown, she hadn't thought that it would have been like this. Not for a moment did she entertain the prospect of racism and bigotry existing in a world of wonder. But she supposed that it existed everywhere in both worlds, didn't it? For where there was hatred and ignorance, there was prejudices and bigotries. They went hand in hand.
After four minutes exactly, Octavia and Draco reached the Potions Master's office, Draco knocking on the door twice. No greeting or voice sounded out. Instead, the door opened with a haunting creak, revealing the dank and dull office to the two first years.
Professor Snape stood behind his desk, smoothly rifling through stacks of parchment, not even glancing up at their arrival.
"Take a seat." Snape said, Draco and Octavia entering the office before the door slammed shut behind them.
They both walked over to the only table set up in the centre of the dimly lit room, a hard wooden chair on either side of it. Cauldrons lined the table, small and large, every single one of them as filthy as the dungeon walls.
"You will clean all cauldrons by hand, and are only permitted to leave once finished." Snape said, still not sparing the two students a glance.
Octavia sighed as she plopped herself down on the chair, Draco walking around the table to seat himself in the chair across from her. They both remained silent as they grabbed murky old sponges from the table and dunked them into the largest cauldron filled with bubbly soapy water.
Together, they set to performing their tasks, Draco's sour expression indicating the extent of his displeasure. Although, he did grab the larger cauldrons to clean, thankfully leaving Octavia with the smaller ones. It made his task longer and harder, whilst hers was considerably easy, therefore allowing her to dawdle and get lost in daydreams.
An hour into detention – or at least, it felt like an hour – and they had only managed to clean sixteen cauldrons. It may sound like a lot to some, but given that they had fifty-three more to clean, it was quite the disappointment.
It wasn't until they were working on the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth cauldrons that a knock rapped at the door. Octavia yawned ungracefully as Snape stormed toward the door of his office, his movements almost lost in the ominous black robes that billowed around him. Craning her neck to see who was at the door, Octavia shifted in her seat, Draco leaning to the side to glimpse around her.
Professor McGonagall stood in the threshold, Snape holding the door open with one hand. The woman normally had a natural air of sternness around her, but not in that moment. Her eyes were wide with concern, her tense body radiating worry and anxiety. Her greying course hair frizzed like Hermione's would do when stressed, and her complexion was sickly pale. It was rather startling to see the woman in such a distressed state. Quite out of the ordinary.
"Severus, we have received word on the pro-" she began, until she spotted O and Draco in the office. "Perhaps it would be best for you to come with me. Headmaster Dumbledore is expecting us."
Snape regarded her for a moment before he nodded once and turned his attention to the two students.
"When I return, I expect every cauldron to be clean and placed in the supply closet." Snape ordered, both students nodding. "You may only return to your common room once you are finished."
"Yes, Professor Snape." They both responded in a sing-song tune.
The moment that the door closed and took both teachers away from the room, Draco and Octavia stopped what they were doing at once. Octavia slumped in her chair, blowing puffs of air to remove stray tresses from her face, whilst Draco reclined gracefully in his chair, eyeing the cauldrons with palpable tedium and distaste.
"This is servants' work," Draco drawled, his tone coated with utter revulsion. "And to do it by hand? Honestly, we aren't muggles!"
Octavia narrowed her eyes at him, Draco instantly biting his tongue in both senses of the phrase; literally and figuratively.
Pale cheeks tinged with pink, as they seemed to daily, and silvery eyes softened as his brows knitted together. He kept his eyes on her venomous stare, swallowing audibly before he spoke in an almost whisper.
"I apologise," Draco said, his silvery eyes pleading with the icy girl. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. It just came out, I swear."
"Of course it did," Octavia smirked, straightening her back and grabbing the sponge. "You're mean and a bully. It's how your pea-sized brain works."
Draco frowned miserably, watching as she ignored him and set to cleaning her half-dirty cauldron. "I … don't bully you."
"You might as well," Octavia scoffed. "If you bully my cousin, you're pretty much bullying me. And when you say that word to anyone, you're calling me it."
"I wouldn't call you that ever," Draco whispered, his dejected gaze fixed on her scrunched up face as she scrubbed the cauldron vigorously. "Not ever."
"Ha!" Octavia shouted, tossing down the sponge and glowering at him. "Any time that anyone ever says that word, it is mean. It's mean to people like me. I'm a muggle-born, Draco. So if you call any muggle-born the 'M' word, then you're calling me it too!"
Draco had the decency to look ashamed, licking his pink lips as he stared down at his cauldron.
"If you ever call Hermione that word again, I'll kick you in the … you know what," Octavia glowered, her cheeks turning rosy at the mention of a boy's private area. "I'll do it in front of everyone and they'll all laugh at you. Then you'll know what it feels like to be embarrassed in front of everyone."
"I didn't embarrass you," Draco whispered, frowning at his cauldron.
"You embarrassed Hermione," Octavia bit. "You made her cry and you hurt her feelings. Don't talk to her ever again. Don't even look at her! If you say anything to her again, I'll tell everyone that you peed your pants in detention."
Draco pursed his lips together in annoyance, but remained silent. Satisfied, Octavia nodded once and returned her attentions to the task they had to complete.
"Now hurry up and help me," Octavia grumbled. "I want to get out of here before bed time."
Draco nodded, slipping out his wand, catching O's cautious attention instantly. She quickly pulled her own wand from her pocket, gripping it tightly as she eyed him warily.
Noticing her movements, Draco rolled his eyes, tapping his wand against the rim of his cauldron. Instantly, the cauldron's grime and dirt vanished, now sparkling clean.
"How'd you do that?" Octavia gaped in wonder, her gaze fixed on the clean cauldron.
"A scrougify spell." Draco blushed, feeling a little proud that she appeared impressed.
"But you didn't say anything." Octavia said, her wide eyes meeting his silver eyes as he smiled.
"I don't have to." Draco shrugged, trying and failing to be nonchalant. "Father taught me."
"How?"
"Since I was a kid he's taught me how to do magic without a wand and without speaking the incantations." Draco grinned, looking incredibly proud of himself.
"But you can't do magic outside of Hogwarts," Octavia frowned.
"That only applies when we start school." Draco explained. "And anyways, my father is really important, so I won't get in trouble."
Octavia almost rolled her eyes at him, but found that the envy bubbling inside of her prevented her from doing so. All she could manage was crossing her arms over her shoulder and glaring at his clean cauldron.
"I can teach you, if you want." Draco offered nervously, glancing up at her before averting his eyes.
Octavia's expression of jealousy and outrage softened, her lips parting as she considered his offer. A simple spell was all it was, but one that she was unable to perform without blasting everything to Azkaban. She bit her bottom lip as she gazed at the clean cauldron, shifting around in her seat and swinging her legs.
"Ok," Octavia said after a moment.
Draco raised his brows as he looked at her from beneath his lashes, a small smile on his lips.
"Ok," Draco nodded, rising from his chair and strolling around the table to join her as she stood.
Draco moved the chair away from her, stepping to stand behind the muggle-born. He pressed his chest against her back, titling his head to see the cauldrons over her shoulder. He stuffed his wand into his pocket before tentatively clasping his fingers around her wand-hand and raising it.
He spoke no words, nor gave any instructions as he held her hand, slowly moving it toward her cauldron. She heard him swallow nervously at her ear, his rapid breaths brushing over the sensitive skin as she twitched. It tickled.
She bit her bottom lip and fixed her anxious hazel eyes on the cauldron. He guided her wand and hand toward said instrument, resting the tip of her wand on the grimy dirt crusted rim. Another swallow and tickly breath, but she resisted the urge to squirm and giggle. She still didn't like him, but he had offered to teach her a spell. An offer that she couldn't pass up.
"Don't grip it so tightly," Draco whispered, his breath tickling her ear again. "Loose but secure."
She did as he said, loosening her grip on her wand slightly.
"When you lift the wand, don't lift your hand." Draco instructed, his voice shaky.
"Huh?" Octavia frowned, utterly perplexed. "How else can I lift my wand?"
"Like this," Draco whispered.
He applied pressure with the pad of his thumb to hers, wrapping his fingers over her knuckles. His index finger guided hers to curl around the wand, the grip still loose. His index finger jerked, causing hers to do the same. The movement caused the wand to twitch slightly and tap against the rim of the cauldron, but nothing happened.
"Now do that again, but this time say the spell." Draco said, his breaths rather uneven against her ear.
"But you don't have to say the spell," Octavia mumbled with a pout.
"That took years of practice. You have to learn how to say the spells first."
"Ok," Octavia sighed, rather disappointed.
He kept his hand on hers as he spoke. "On the count of nine."
"Three," Octavia said.
"Twelve."
"Nine," they both said at the same time, right before performing the same twitch of her wand against the cauldron.
"Scrougify!" Octavia shouted, enunciating the word to perfection.
She grimaced the moment the spell escaped her lips, cringing back from the blast of the cauldron. A blast that didn't come.
Slowly, she returned her gaze to the cauldron, seeing that the inside of it was pristine and void of any specks of dirt whatsoever. The outside, however, was still smeared and coated with dust and grime. But she didn't care about that. She had done a spell! She had done a spell without blasting the room and its occupants to the wall!
Octavia squealed in utter joy, jumping up and down on the spot as Draco stepped away from her. He smiled as he watched her bun of curls wobble and jitter atop her head from her excited bouncing, the muggle-born applauding herself as she repeatedly squealed and giggled.
Swiftly, she spun around on the spot and lunged at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him tightly. Draco stood frozen in place, his eyes as wide as saucers, his body tense and still, his lips parted and entire face crimson red.
Octavia quickly came back to her senses, pulling away from him as though he had burned her. They stared at each other with pink faces, their eyes wide and blinking stupidly.
Suddenly, she barged by him and sprinted out of the office, slamming the door loudly behind her as she fled.
Draco stood on the spot, having not moved since she hugged him. He swallowed loudly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared at nothing with wide eyes.
And then a big, wide grin spread across his pink face.
