Ok, so, sorry I haven't posted in a while, and sorry if this chapter isn't satisfactory enough for the long wait. I don't really want to make this story a lovey-dovey Harry/Alex thing, so I'm changing a few things, so please don't review, saying, "no, it's not supposed to be that way," and don't predict things, because my story is not meant to be predictable. You never know, Alex may do something completely awful to protect a person she never had feelings for, before. Ok? That's just how things are going to be. Sorry if that came across as horrible, I didn't mean it like that. Thanks, hope you enjoy.
I couldn't see him, but the sound of his footsteps led me forward. Why did I agree to this? I'm so tired. I was curving around stacks of books, desks and towers of old portraits that reached the ceiling. Every bend was a risk, I'd either push something over and get his attention, or I could accidently bump into him. But the worst thing of all, is, I couldn't turn back even if I tried. I was lost. I'm such a stupid, little girl.
I heard him stop walking around the mountains of supplies. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't retrace his steps and see me. I peeked around a wooden chest, to find his back to me, his hand slowly gripping onto a sheet of white silk that covered a tall, wide square on four wooden legs. He pulled the sheet off. I had to grasp my throat, to prevent the dust that filled the air from licking my throat.
It was a cabinet. His hand slowly leaned on the handle, before he opened one of the doors. I couldn't see his face, but by the looks of his profile, he seemed frustrated.
Is this what I followed him in for? Risked my life, hiding from a troubled Slytherin, to watch him open a cabinet? Wow, my life sure is interesting. I blinked repeatedly, trying to brush away the heavy bags that weighed down my eyelids. Absent-mindedly, I opened my mouth and released a clear yawn.
"Who's there?" He whirled around. I hid behind the wall of books that stood between us, hoping he wouldn't come any closer.
"Stupefy!" He cried, as the books I hid behind all toppled to the floor. Before the last of the books reached the carpet, I flew to the floor, hiding beneath a shattered table, that looked like it was on it's last leg. "You're losing it, Draco," I heard him murmur, before his footsteps passed the table I hid beneath and faded somewhere in the direction we came from.
When I heard a door slam, I crawled out from beneath the table, to stare at the shiny cabinet he was examining. Looking around, I walked towards it. I opened one of the doors. Inside, was nothing. Nothing but shadows. It was quite a large cabinet, a person could definitely fit inside. It was cold and smelled as if it hadn't been opened in months, maybe years. I reached my hand inside, patting the bottom to search for anything Draco possibly put inside, but nothing.
So, what made this cabinet so special? It was an empty cabinet. An empty, smelly, good-for-nothing cabinet, that was hidden beneath a cloak before we got here. What was Draco up to? Should I tell Harry? I mean, Harry is under the impression that Draco Malfoy is a death eater, so any suspicious behaviour should be reported to Harry immediately, right?.. Right.
(**)
I caught sight of him, Ron and Hermione as all the students were exiting the great hall. Harry was smiling confusedly when he saw me. "I thought you went to bed?"
"Y-yeah, w-well." I panted.
"Is everything ok, Alex?" Hermione asked, leaning a hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head. "Malfoy. Cabinet." I said, through clenched teeth. My mouth was extremely dry.
The trio exchanged nervous looks. "Not here," Harry said, pulling us three towards the Gryffindor tower. When we arrived, the three sat in their usual armchairs, while I stood before them, explaining everything I saw.
"Well, what was he doing?" Ron asked.
"I'm not sure. He revealed a cabinet. It wasn't a usual one, I could tell. There was something unnatural about it. Besides, there has to be something off about it, otherwise Malfoy wouldn't waste his time with it, right?" I frowned.
Hermione nodded. "Could you take us to it?"
"I wouldn't know how to. This room – it just appeared out of thin air." I gaped.
"The Room of Requirement." The three of them said, nodding their heads.
"What's that?" I asked. Hermione started explaining.
"It's a hidden room in Hogwarts. It only appears when someone is in need of it. Whatever Draco was doing, it was obviously meaningful, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen such a private room that offers such magnificent equipment. If we can take you to the room, could you show us the cabinet, Alex?"
I shook my head. "I wouldn't be able to recognise it if I tried. There's about a million things in there, and I didn't get a good look at it. It was hidden beneath sheets first of all, but Draco forgot to hide it before he left, so it blends in with everything else."
Harry and Hermione slumped. Ron grinned. "What was inside? Boggarts?-"
Hermione tusked. I shrugged. "Nothing. That's what made it even more strange. It was empty. Completely empty. Having no special ability, or secret drawers inside or anything.."
…Or does it?
(**)
The first class next morning was Potions. Did I want to go? Honestly, no. I was not looking forward to seeing Slughorn after I ran out of the classroom crying, yesterday, but at least the sympathy from my fellow students had died down.
Us four were standing outside of his classroom, Slughorn was yet to come. I noticed the girl that clung onto Draco's arm the first time I met him, leaning against the wall, standing besides a dark skinned boy. Where was Draco? I looked away when Harry asked me a question. "Hmm?" I smiled.
"That's Pansy Parkinson." He told me, jerking his head towards the girl. He obviously noticed me staring at her. He didn't look happy saying her name, but Hermione told me that Harry had trouble with all Slytherin's. "Draco Malfoys'… Play toy." He said after seconds of silence.
"Play toy?" I asked him, glancing at Pansy from the corner of my eye. "She does look rather lost without him." I agreed.
He sneered, leading me inside the classroom after Slughorn appeared. We all sat down at our usual desks, and after ignoring many pitiful glances from Slughorn, I was on the edge of cracking. The lesson was long and boring. I sat back, appearing to be working hard when Slughorn stared at me, but honestly, I left Hermione to do the work. We were brewing a potion I couldn't pronounce, since I hadn't been listening to a word Slughorn said, and my eyes were consciously watching the door. Who was I expecting? A blonde haired Slytherin. Where was Malfoy? I heard that potions became his least favourite class after Professor Snape no longer taught it, but I didn't think he hated the class so much to ditch.
When the bell rang, signalling everyone to move on to next lesson, I gathered my things quickly and ran out the door, ignoring Slughorn when he was calling after me. "What's wrong with you today, Alex?" Hermione asked rashly, tugging on my arm for attention.
"Nothing." I breathed in frustration, looking away. "I don't feel so well." I lied. "Could you tell McGonagall that I've gone back to bed?"
"Sure." I heard her reply. I rushed away, my feet walking faster when I saw Harry and Ron walk out of Potions. I walked up to the seventh floor, and when I reached the common room, I slipped out a bit of parchment and wrote to my brothers.
Dear Charlie and Kevin,
I miss you guys so much, it's unreal. I hope you miss me too, but from what dad has been telling me, Charlie is quite busy with some other girl. Just kidding. How are you guys? I hope you're looking after dad - and Charlie, it's about time you got a job! Merlin, I was beginning to think you had twelve O.W.L's for nothing! And Kevin, well, whatever good you're doing, keep it up. Any gossip lately? Anything interesting happening on private drive? Nothing new here, I'm sitting in the common room, doing nothing interesting that's worth mentioning. Reply as soon as you can. Your reply might be the highlight of my week.
Love,
Alex.
After watching Mary fly away with my letter, I looked around the empty common room, suddenly feeling regretful about missing Transfiguration. I had nothing better to do, and because of it, I walked out of the common room, letting my feet take me wherever they felt like going. I was still on the seventh floor, when I stopped abruptly, before hiding around a corner. Draco Malfoy walked out of the Room of Requirement, before he unknowingly strolled passed where I was hiding. So that's where he had been.
Not allowing the doors to bubble away, I ran into the room. This time, it wasn't so hard to find the cabinet. It definitely stood out more than I thought it would, the oak shining brightly under the light. The silk sheet laid forgotten on the floor, and one door of the cabinet was open. Looking around, I stepped directly in front of the cabinet, my hand caressing the cold handle.
A green apple was laying innocently inside the cabinet, teeth marks scarring the lime skin of the fruit. I picked the apple up, twirling it in my hands, before placing it back inside the cabinet, shutting the door softly with a click. Pressing my ear to the door, I heard nothing. I didn't know what to expect, I didn't know if I was expecting anything at all, but when I opened the door, the apple was gone.
I scrambled two hands inside the cabinet, feeling every bit of the inside in hope to grab the apple, but all I felt was emptiness. The spot of light that shone through the cabinet was shining down on a blank surface. Confused, I stepped back, staring at the cabinet, what was it? Some port key? I should ask Hermione.
In case Draco returned, I left the right door of the cabinet, open, leaving it exactly how I found it, before exiting the room and rushing back up to the common room, now only wanting my brothers to reply to keep my mind off of things. However, my journey back to the Gryffindor common room was disturbed.
"Miss. Russo?" The cold and slow voice of Professor Snape called from behind my shoulder.
I forced a smile and turned around, "Good afternoon, professor. May I help you?"
"I'll push my suspicious as to why you're not in Transfiguration at this very moment, aside, seeing as though I do have a question to ask you. Earlier this morning, I had an unexpected visit from Professor Slughorn." He drawled, a thick eyebrow reaching his greasy hairline.
I cleared my throat, knowing what was coming next, "Oh, really? And what was it that he wanted?"
"He said that you were rather marvellous in Defence Against the Dark Arts back at Salem. I had a browse through your files and, indeed, your permanent record is rather impressive. I do suggest you take the class, this year, Miss. Russo." He said, not a care in his tone.
I ran a hand through my hair, huffing, my brain was overloading with many things. Was a new class exactly what I need right now? No, what I needed was a good chat with Hermione about a mysterious cabinet and a fresh cup of pumpkin juice. But what was worse to deal with – my favourite class, or a disappointed Slughorn after I informed him that I didn't accept Snape's offer? The latter matter, of course. "Sure. I'd be honoured, sir, thank you." I smiled.
Before he could open his mouth to reply, a tormented looking Draco Malfoy came storming around the corner, the concentrated look on his face disappeared as he found me and Snape. He was about to rush away, when Snape grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and yanked him back. Draco was wincing.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape muttered, sharply, "You, as well as Miss. Russo, are also not in class. Why is that?"
Draco glared at his head of house. It was obvious that if I hadn't been standing there, Draco would've answered with the truth: an answer he clearly didn't want me to hear as he shot me a quick scowl, before replying, "I felt sick, professor. I was on my way to the infirmary."
Lie. Well, I would know that, since I saw him come out of the Room of Requirement, but would Professor Snape buy it? Or would he see right through him, yet let his favourite Slytherin walk away, unpunished?
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure a bad head is what has brought you out of your classes? Or blurred vision? The sickness must've infected your senses, greatly, considering the infirmary is definitely not on the seventh floor, and never has been. If a stupider excuse is the reason of your ditching, I'm sure acquainting Miss. Russo in a detention, shouldn't disturb your studies." He gave a nasty smile.
"Detention?" I gasped. The two looked at me, Snape lured forward.
"Yes, Miss. Russo, detention. You were also lurking around the halls, with no note from a professor, which leaves me but with no choice to punish you." He clarified, already walking down the hall, towards the dungeons, no doubt. "Come on," He said, realising Draco and I weren't following. Draco glared at me, before heading after Snape, and I shortly followed, grumpily.
(**)
I hated the dungeons. They were cold, wet and immensely freaky. I had only been down here once, and that was when I accidently got lost, running around in a haunted maze for minutes before bumping into a Ravenclaw prefect, who kindly directed me back to the third floor. It appeared that only I felt uncomfortable as we strolled through the dark halls, Draco and Snape seemed unfazed by the dripping of water that fell from the ceiling and the ghostly poltergeists that twirled above our heads, cackling.
I was walking a good twenty feet behind Draco and Snape, who were hissing hush words back and forth and taking long strides to reach Snape's office. I jogged lightly behind them, not wanting to get lost in the dungeons, only having to find my way out by myself, afterwards. "But, professor!-" Draco whined aloud.
"No but's, Malfoy," Snape scolded, roughly pushing the door to his office, open, and whisking inside. Draco paused after Snape's entrance, before entering himself. I sighed, following them inside.
Snape's office was everything I thought it would be. Gloomy, evil and well.. that's it. The only light that shone in the room were one or two potions he kept on his shelves. He walked over to his desk, whirled his chair around and sat down, facing the front of the class as he glowered at me when I didn't follow Draco in taking a seat.
"Miss. Russo, are you going to stand there like a fool, or sit down?" He snarled.
"Oh, er, sorry." I said, sliding in a seat next to Draco at the front. Draco stiffened and shuffled slightly to the right, widening the space between us. I gave him a strange look. Did he think I was infectious or something? By the look on his face, yes, yes he did.
"Now," Snape drawled, glaring only at me, "Before you get yourself into further trouble, Miss. Russo, would you mind telling me why you weren't in Transfiguration?"
Stupid Malfoy, he took my excuse! "I didn't feel very well, sir." I told him, unemotionally. The man looked at me as if he were trying to take a glimpse into my mind. I shifted in my seat. "After potions, I felt nauseous. I told Hermione to tell Professor McGonagall that I had gone back to bed."
He sneered. "Ah, yes, Miss. Granger. Gryffindor's know it all," He said mockingly. Draco sniggered. "And you thought she would pass on the message?" He raised an eyebrow, as if doubting whether Hermione was up for such a small task.
I nodded. "I was only going back to bed. I was planning on going to Charms, afterwards, I just felt lightheaded."
Snape stared at me for a while, narrowing his eyes, before collecting two pieces of parchment off his desk and handing one to me and one to Draco. Wasn't he going to ask where Malfoy was instead of class? Stupid Slytherin's. "I would like you both to write a two thousand word essay, on why lying is never healthy for your soul." He said, setting two quills on our blank pieces of parchment. I gaped up at him.
"But, sir, I'm not lying." I told him firmly, watching him walk back to his desk.
He acted as though he hadn't heard me, and settled two jars which contained whirlpools of colour in a carrier bag. "I'll be back shortly, I have a meeting with Professor Slughorn. I expect you to be half done by the time I return. Begin." He snapped, going out of the room.
When the door slammed shut behind him, Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at his quill, muttering something under his breath. The quill plopped up by itself, and began scribbling tidy notes on his parchment. Draco pulled out a book from his robes, and opened it beneath his nose, allowing the quill to do the dirty work for him, as he pretended my existence was as important as a speck of dust.
"You shouldn't do that, you know," I told him. He stared up at me, blankly, raising a careless eyebrow, "If Snape knew what you were doing.."
"And he never will, unless a blood traitor tells him," He cut me off sharply, glaring at me.
"A blood traitor?" I scoffed, "What do you mean by that?" I dropped my quill to fold my arms across my chest, mirroring his glare.
An infamous smirk twitched on the side of his mouth, yet a look of disgust was in his eyes, "You're friends with the repulsive muggle-born, herself, are you not?"
"Hermione's my friend!" I pointed out, "Don't you dare bring her into this! I don't see what she has to do with anything! And would you stop that thing? It's annoying!" I spat, pointing at his quill, which was quickly itching his essay out for him. The noise of quill scratching paper made my skin crawl.
He looked at his quill, shrugged, then turned back to his book. I scoffed, turning back to my empty parchment, completely clueless where to start. I was mad, no, not mad, infuriated. I let him win. He insulted me, he insulted Hermione, and to make things worse, I just sat there and said nothing!
From the corner of my eye, I took a glimpse at his parchment, which was already half full. He'd be finished in seconds while I haven't even written my name on the top left corner of the paper. I read how he, or the quill, started off the essay and turned to begin mine, when a pale hand stole the quill from my grasp. "Hey!" I glared up at him, "give it back!" I reached for it, but he held it above his head, out of reach.
"I don't think so," He growled, "Have your parents ever told you that cheating is wrong?" His grey eyes were sparkling with enjoyment.
"What?" I screeched. "Are you kidding me? Says the git who has his quill working for him!"
"That's different. I'm telling it what to write, Miss. Soon-to-be-Potter." He snickered, coldly.
I glared at him, feeling the blush reach my cheeks, "How mature of you. But seriously, Malfoy, give it back!" I demanded, reaching for the quill. He held it higher above his head, I got up from my seat, standing on my feet, jumping to reach it when I fell back on my seat, heaving. He snorted, dropping the quill on my desk and turned back to his book.
"I'd start working, if I were you," He said nonchalantly, his eyes not leaving the open pages. "I'm sure Snape wouldn't be too happy to find a blank parchment when he comes back."
"You're an asshole, you know that?" I sighed angrily, beginning to write my essay.
"I've been called worse, princess," He said darkly, giving me the possibly scariest glare I've ever seen. I cleared my throat and turned away.
Minutes later, quarter of my parchment was filled with notes, when his quill fell tiredly on the desk, having completed the long essay for him. He lazily levitated the quill over to Snape's desk before peering at my parchment to see how I was doing. "What?" I hissed, after he snorted and was about to go back to his book.
"Nothing, nothing.." He brushed it off, staring down at his book while smirking.
"What is that you are reading, anyway?" I tried glancing over his shoulder, when his hands covered the pages, and he glared at me.
"Nothing that concerns you, or your business." He spat, slamming the book shut. He pushed his seat away from the desk and I winced when the metal legs scratched against the floor. He stood up and walked over to Snape's desk, placing the essay on a bundle of papers before he turned to the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked him, when his hand was inches away from the handle, "Even if you have completed your essay, you haven't been given permission to leave. Sit down, you're not going anywhere."
He looked over his shoulder, sneering, "Who are you? My mother?"
"No, but I'm sure your mother wouldn't be too happy if you ran out of detention to go play with a cabinet." I smirked, walking around the desk and placing my hands on my hips. His pale face displayed a look of horror and shock.
"W-what are you talking about?" He stuttered, the book in his hand fell on the floor. I eyed it for a moment, but then I looked back at him.
"What is that cabinet, Malfoy? I was going to ask Hermione, but now that I've brought it up, I may as well ask you. I followed you into the Room of Requirement. I can't say that I'm sorry, because I'm pretty sure you're up to no good. So what does it do? Make things disappear!" I snorted.
He didn't answer. He was horror-struck, staring at his feet, his cold eyes no longer teasing, but.. scared? I took a few steps forward. "What are you up to? And don't say 'nothing', just cut the crap and tell me. Otherwise you'll leave me but with no choice to tell Dumbledo- Oof!" I cried. He had stormed towards me, one hand on my hip as he slammed me into the nearest wall.
His hot breath was hitting my cheeks, as he raised his wand, digging it into my neck. "I can do it, you know," He threatened, "Kill you. Right here, right now. You're a blood traitor, Snape wouldn't care. The only people that would come searching for you are the fantastic trio, who were managing their years in this shitty school well, before you came along." He hissed in my ear, "You have no meaning," He told me, huskily, tracing his index finger down my jaw line before placing his hand back on his wand, pressuring the tip harder against my neck. I winced. "Just a flimsy little girl," He whispered, bringing his face closer to mine. I could feel my heart beating frantically against my chest. Our lips were centimetres apart. "Don't you dare threaten me again, princess," He snarled, "I've done bad things, things people like yourself wouldn't have seen, even in their darkest nightmares. Why don't you just be a good little girl, run back to your boyfriend, Scarface's, side and stay out of the way? Stay as an outsider, out of the attention, where you belong and where you won't get yourself killed, unlike your brainless mother." He brushed a piece of hair that fell from my ponytail behind my ear. "Good girl." He breathed, throwing me to the floor.
He picked up his book and stormed out the door, the shelves rattling as the door slammed shut behind him. I shivered on the floor, gluing my legs to my chest as I stared blankly.
What was that?