Rifling through the curious books with interest, Octavia's eyes were alight with enthrallment. She had never ventured to the muggle section of Tomes and Scrolls in the Hogsmeade village before. But she couldn't understand for the life of her why not. It was utterly fascinating.
Hermione had dragged her to the small shelves at the back corner of the bookstore upon arrival to browse. At first, Octavia was rather reluctant. She tended to prefer reading only when absolutely necessary, say for an assignment or the like. Her reluctance disappeared quickly however, as she spotted the dozen or so books dedicated to muggle fashionwear.
Grabbing the largest book, Octavia grunted as she hauled it from the shelf and pulled the heavy tome against her chest. 'Style through the Ages', it read. The blurb explained that the book detailed each decade's primary fashionable attire, with extra emphasis and attention to the current decade. Interesting. The cost of the tome was hardly expensive, so that was not reason for Octavia's hesitance to purchase it.
If her mother or father were to discover her increased interest in the muggle world, they would be rather displeased. Perhaps they would interpret her interest as an indication to send her off into the muggle world? She did not want that. Octavia was quite content to remain in the magical world, with her family, where she belonged. Despite her lack of magical abilities.
She merely harboured a flame of intrigue regarding the muggle world. They just did things so differently to the world she knew. Ninny had said that they do not enter into arranged marriages in the vast majority of the muggle world. That women were allowed to select their own suitors, or none if they so wished. Women were able to have careers, instead of children. Not that Octavia wanted a career or anything. She was just fascinated by the thought of … what is it? Freedom?
Yes. That's it. Freedom.
Something that Octavia did not have. Something that the entire contents of her Gringott's vault could not purchase.
Freedom.
Debating on her potential purchase, Octavia flipped open the book to the last chapter, her glistening hazel eyes scanning the page interestedly. Her gaze rested on an image of a pretty model, the girl turning and exhibiting the muggle clothes in an endless cycle. So the book was made in the wizarding world, Octavia realised, given that the pictures moved. Perhaps that would alleviate her parents' potential distress should they ever discover the book in her bedroom one day.
"Ninny!" Octavia sang, her eyes still fixed on the photograph. "Ninny, come here!"
"What is it, O?" Hermione sighed, appearing out of nowhere.
"What's that?" Octavia frowned, eyeing the pants that the model adored.
"The trousers?" Hermione quizzed. "They're jeans. Trousers made out of denim."
"Denim," Octavia echoed, the word unfamiliar on her tongue.
"I wear jeans," Hermione informed, smiling at her fascinated friend. "The blue trousers, remember?"
"Oh," Octavia scrunched up her face. "Those are ghastly. They look nothing like the denim in the picture."
"Because the jeans in the picture are Gucci." Hermione sassed. "They're designer and very expensive."
"But they look nothing like your trousers at all!" Octavia exclaimed, her confusion evident.
"Different styles," Hermione sighed. "It's like … dresses. Even though two dresses might be made from satin, they can look completely different."
"Ohhh," Octavia sang, understanding now due to Hermione speaking her language. "I see. So you chose the uglier denim?"
"Stop saying 'denim'," Hermione snapped. "They're called 'jeans'. Denim is the material."
Octavia raised her eyebrows, glancing at her irritated friend.
"Ok, then." Octavia said slowly. "Well, why don't you own jeans like these ones?"
"They're expensive, and too revealing for my taste," Hermione responded coolly.
"Revealing?" O scoffed, glancing back at the jeans.
"Yes, they're far too tight." Hermione continued, an air of judgement surrounding her. "And the waistline is too low. They're called 'skinny jeans'."
"Well, I like them." Octavia murmured, slamming the book shut and clutching it to her chest.
Octavia stomped off toward the cashier to purchase the tome, eager to delve into it the first chance she got and observe more attire. Perhaps she would like other muggle clothes? Not that it really mattered, anyway. It would be highly improper of her to adorn such attire. But … there was no harm in looking at the pictures, right?
Right.
Sitting outside in the sun, Octavia smiled as the warmth of the summer weather washed over her. She and the others sat at the circular tables out the front of the Three Broomsticks. The atmosphere of the village street was alight with excitement due to the Quidditch match that was to take place that afternoon. The Quidditch match that Octavia would not be attending, as always. It wasn't a particularly fascinating sport, according to the wizard-born, and that was only added to the fact that she could not participate even if she wished to.
For no broomstick would respond to her lack of magic.
A shimmer of envy tingled through her at the thought, her pretty face contorting into a fleeting scowl. Given that she was afraid of heights, Octavia didn't exactly want to play Quidditch or have a broomstick respond to her. But she didn't like that others were able to do things that she could not. It seemed unfair.
Fiddling with the long sleeves of her baby pink dress, Octavia offered a smile of gratitude to the waitress that placed a tray of butterbeers on the table. Hermione and Luna remained in their one-sided conversation about Nargles and how to effectively ward them off, Octavia tuning the nonsense out as she retrieved a bottle from the tray.
The very reason for Octavia adorning the backless, short dress walked down the path with his fellow professors. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, Octavia's hazel eyes remained on Professor Diggory as he chatted enthusiastically with Slughorn about something or other. Octavia didn't really care what they were discussing. She only cared that he noticed her dress. Noticed her.
For Professor Diggory had expertly ignored Octavia since their kiss one week ago. He rarely made eye-contact with her in class anymore, even when she raised her hand to answer questions issued to the students. He didn't watch her in the Great Hall anymore, to her knowledge. And he had given her an 'Acceptable' grade for her essay, meaning that there was no need for them to convene to discuss the poor assignment.
While she didn't exactly go out of her way to speak to the now-silent Professor, she watched him whenever he was around. Just waiting for him to meet her stare. He never did. Not anymore.
Had she really been that terrible of a kisser? She hadn't thought he would mind about her lack of skills in that department, but she doubted that now. Perhaps it was only her paranoia, though. Maybe he just wasn't interested in her, like she was him. Maybe, just maybe, she had imagined his interest in her and took it a step too far.
Again, Diggory didn't even meet her persistent gaze as he walked by with his fellow professors, and disappeared into the pub. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, her dimmed hazel eyes fixing on the chipped table before her as she slumped slightly.
In that moment, all she wanted to do was spill every detail to Hermione and Luna. It almost physically pained her to keep such a secret from them. But if Hermione knew that Octavia had kissed a professor, who knew what would happen? Ninny was Octavia's friend, through and through. She was loyal and protective. But she was also a stickler for the rules. So Octavia didn't want to discover Hermione's reaction to her fraternising with the professor.
Luna, on the other hand, would be much more understanding. But it hardly felt right to tell Luna and not Hermione. In saying that, Octavia wasn't really interested in Luna's advice. Undoubtedly, it would only consist of irrelevant ramblings about non-existent creatures. And Octavia didn't have the patience for that when it came to her current predicament.
Of course, she could always just forget about her kiss with the professor. Her first kiss. She could put it down to a 'moment' that they had shared, and nothing more. She could – and should – forget about it and move on. But, somehow, it was almost all she could think about. It was what she dreamt about. The arousal that coursed through her as his tongue swept over hers. The tingling in her toes and fingers as his body pressed against hers. The desire pooling in her core as his erection nudged against her.
Heaving a sigh, Octavia yanked herself from the memory, forcing her attention to return to her friends as Ron and Harry joined them at the table.
"Shouldn't you be at practice?" Hermione asked as Ron immediately picked at her fries.
"We've been practicing all morning," Harry sighed, the weariness evident in his tired green eyes. "The Slytherins booked the pitch for the rest of the day before the game."
"You guys coming to the game?" Ron asked through a mouthful of fries.
"Nope," Hermione answered as Octavia shook her head.
"Oh, come on!" Harry complained, reclining in his chair as he raised his hands in the air. "It's the first game of the year. Slytherin verses Gryffindor. You have to come!"
"I have homework," Octavia shrugged, her feet shuffling automatically as the lie escaped her lips.
In reality, Octavia planned on hanging out in the common room during the match. Although she did actually have homework to do … Not that she'd do it, or anything.
"If we win, you have to come to the party though," Harry offered a compromise, his green eyes flickering between the three girls hopefully.
Hermione appeared to consider it for a moment before relenting.
"If Gryffindor win, I'll come." Hermione agreed, Luna nodding.
"What about you, O?" Harry pressed.
"I dunno," Octavia mumbled. "I'll just go back to my dorms or something."
"You'd rather go back to the Slytherin dorms after they lose? After Draco Malfoy, the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, loses?" Ron laughed.
"Oh," Octavia frowned, as though just realising the dangers of the potential outcome.
"Come on," Harry persuaded. "You never come to the parties."
"Yeah, 'cause if I do, and do something stupid, it'll get back to my father." Octavia sighed, reclining in the chair.
"It's our last year at Hogwarts, O." Hermione added. "It's ok to live a little."
"Plus there won't be any other Slytherins there, so who's gonna rat you out?" Ron asked before shoving a handful of fries into his abnormally large trap.
Octavia shrugged lamely, unable to come up with a response.
"Fine," she relented, tossing her hands up in the air. "But if you lose?"
"If we lose, then the party won't be happening." Ron grumbled.
"The Slytherins will have a party," Luna chimed. "So we can have another girl's night."
"Deal," Hermione smiled. "Blaise will go to the Slytherin party, so we'll have the common room to ourselves."
"Yeah, until he comes back with Theo and Draco," Octavia mumbled.
Speak of the devils, all three members of the Snake Trio themselves sauntered down the main street, headed straight in their direction. Octavia scowled as Draco's cold eyes found her instantly, his gaze not faltering as the three of them continued to walk toward them.
"Thought they were using the Quidditch pitch?" Octavia hissed, her narrowed hazel orbs glued to Draco's cold grey eyes.
Everyone at the table shimmied to get a good look at the approaching trio, Harry scowling as he turned back around.
"I knew they didn't need the extra practice," Harry seethed, his cheeks growing red with anger. "They booked it just so we couldn't make up the time."
"Make up what time?" Hermione asked, turning back around.
"They've practically had free reign over the pitch this whole week, so we couldn't get enough practice hours in. They've done it on purpose."
"Looks like it might be a girls' night!" Octavia grinned, clapping her hands together.
Harry and Ron only glowered at her in response.
"What?" Octavia frowned. "I'm a Slytherin, remember?"
Luna laughed, the sound ringing like bells as Hermione shook her head. At times they did forget where Octavia's loyalties lay. And it wasn't with her House. Being a true Slytherin, her loyalties lay with herself. And she would much prefer a girl's night to the Gryffindor party.
The table fell into a tense silence as the Snake Trio approached, making their way past the table and into the establishment. Suddenly, an idea struck Octavia and she abruptly stood from her chair.
"Need to pee," Octavia muttered before turning and scurrying into the Three Broomsticks, leaving her friends to re-enter conversations regarding the game and party.
Pushing through the heavy door to the pub, Octavia stumbled over the threshold, her bright hazel eyes scanning the crowded space swiftly. Her eyes met with grey for a moment before she yanked her gaze from Draco and continued searching for her target.
Finding him, Octavia's stomach flipped as Professor Diggory made his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms. She couldn't have dreamt up a more opportune moment.
Not caring in the slightest about being courteous, Octavia shoved her way through the occupants of the busy pub, hastily following her professor to the back of the establishment. As she began to catch up with him with her hurried pace, she ran her fingers through her blonde curls, before straightening out the short hem of her skirt. Her tight curls brushed against her back, tickling her skin due to the backless nature of her new dress. The dress that her mother had finally sent her after ordering it two weeks ago.
She was actually supposed to have ordered the ugliest dress in her magazine, according to her dare issued by Hermione. But Octavia had lied and told Ninny that her mother outright refused to purchase the dress for her. An easy lie, considering how dreadful the dress was. Instead, she purchased the dress she currently wore. The dress she put on that day just for the man that she followed through the pub.
Entirely unaware of Draco Malfoy following her discreetly, his eyes burning into her back as he stalked her like the predator he is.
"Professor!" Octavia shouted, scurrying after Diggory as he made his way through the quiet corridors of the pub, headed toward the toilets. "Professor Diggory!"
The Professor tensed before he came to a complete stop, recognising her voice instantly. He didn't turn around as she caught up to him, stopping a few feet away from him.
"What can I do for you, Miss Zabini?" Cedric asked, his back to her.
Neither of the two noticed Draco Malfoy step into the corridor, slipping into the shadows of an alcove as he watched the two intently. After he placed a disillusionment charm on himself, of course. He did not wish to be seen whilst the two interacted.
"Can we talk?" Octavia whispered, her hopeful gaze fixed on the back of his head.
"Not here," Cedric hushed, turning around to face her, his expression worried.
"Then where?" Octavia pouted. "You've been avoiding me."
"There are too many people here, Miss Zabini. It is best that this conversation waits –"
"No!" Octavia stomped her foot childishly. "You'll just keep avoiding me. I want to talk about it now!"
"I do not think that there is anything to discuss, Miss Zabini," Professor Diggory responded, his air of professionalism slipping back into place. "Now, if you will excuse me."
"Was it really that bad?" Octavia whispered, her eyes alight with pain.
"What?" Cedric frowned.
"I … hadn't kissed anyone before … I … I could get better. I didn't know what to do … I'll try harder …"
"Octavia," Cedric whispered, eyeing her sadly. "It wasn't the kiss … the kiss was great. You are great. It's … more than that. I'm your professor, and you're my student. That kiss should not have happened. It can't happen again."
"But I want it to," Octavia pleaded, stepping closer to him. "I want it to happen again. And so what if you're my teacher? We can just … be secretive about it … and I graduate in less than a year!"
Octavia's skin tingled with excitement as he placed his hand on her waist and led her into the shadows of the alcove, allowing them a little more privacy and discretion. Or so they thought, for they were now standing a few inches away from a furious Draco Malfoy.
"What happens after you graduate?" Cedric countered, his voice hushed. "You think your father is just going to change his mind about rejecting my offers time and time again?"
"You made more than one offer?" Octavia blinked up at him.
Cedric smiled down at her. "I've made many offers on your contract."
A flattering blush crept up Octavia's cheeks as she bit her lip.
"But that doesn't change that I am not wealthy enough for your contract," Cedric sighed. "Yes, you graduate in less than a year. But what happens after that, Octavia? Nothing can. Unless you are willing to flee your life and become a pariah to your people."
Blanching visibly, Octavia's hazel orbs filled with pain as she realised that he was correct. There was nothing and no one that could make her leave her life; her family. And her father would not accept him. So what could be done?
Although, Octavia was quite adept at getting her way.
"I'll make him." Octavia promised. "It'll take a while, but he'll … he'll say yes."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Cedric laughed, running his hands through his luscious hair.
"Same way I always get what I want from him," Octavia shrugged, a devious smirk on her plump lips. "Lots of tears and tantrums."
Cedric smiled, gazing at her warmly as she grinned proudly. Their eyes remained connected, both forgetting where they were for a moment. But before the moment could take complete control, Cedric stepped back from her.
"If your father accepts my offer, this can work between us. But while you're my student, it just can't happen."
"But what if my father accepts your offer soon?" Octavia asked hopefully. "Then … we can still … you know …"
"Not officially," Cedric shook his head. "People would learn of our engagement. That is inevitable. But our affections cannot take place during the year."
"At least in public, right?" Octavia grinned. "But what about in your office? Or … here?"
"This is in public," Cedric laughed, neither of them feeling the fury radiating from the invisible body beside them.
"So you're office then?" Octavia beamed proudly, pushing past him before he could respond.
Cedric smiled as he watched her skip away, a bounce in her step that filled him with desire.
"Thank you, Professor!" Octavia called out, not looking back before she disappeared into the crowd.
Cedric watched her go, a wide grin on his face and light blush on his cheeks. He quite liked when she called him 'professor'. Not that he would admit that, though.
Turning, Cedric began to make his way to the bathrooms before a red jet of light came out of nowhere, slamming him into the wall harshly. A simple stupefy, a powerful one at that.
A spell filled with such raw fury that Cedric was knocked out before he even hit the wall.
The crackling of the simmering fire was barely heard over the three girls gossiping avidly. Well, Luna was hardly gossiping. She was actually just humming to herself, seemingly lost in one of her many daydreams. Hermione was doing something more along the lines of complaining. But Octavia was gossiping. She hung on every word Hermione said, basking in the dramas of another. It was quite wonderful.
"Harry said that even Malfoy grabbed a bat and hit bludgers to the Gryffindor teammates at times," Hermione continued, her brown eyes alight with injustice. "Four Gryffindors in the infirmary, and all the Slytherins get is one detention? It's ridiculous!"
"Is it true that Draco hit the professors with a bludger?" Octavia asked, rolling around to lay on her tummy, propping her chin up on her hands.
"He aimed the bludger at the staff stands, according to Ron," Hermione clarified. "The bludger didn't actually hit any of the professors, but it almost got Professor Diggory."
"Oh." Octavia said, her lips parted and forming a circle.
"It just infuriates me that Snape only gave them one detention," Hermione complained. "And they still won."
"Yeah, but their detention is tonight," Octavia yawned, rolling onto her back as she stretched out. "So they can't party or anything."
"That's hardly a fitting punishment," Hermione spat. "They put students in the infirmary! Ginny's arm was broken!"
"I'm not defending them, Ninny." Octavia frowned.
"Then what are you doing?" Hermione hissed, raising her brow as she stared expectantly at O.
"I dunno," Octavia sighed. "I'm just saying that they will be pretty bummed that they can't celebrate their win."
Hermione rolled her eyes, not finding the punishment to be sufficient for their actions.
"Why were they so aggressive anyway?" Octavia asked, attempting to deflect Hermione's annoyance from herself.
"Because they're Slytherins," Hermione shrugged, unaware of the sour expression that fleetingly graced Octavia's face.
Octavia simply loathed that her friend still harboured some resentment toward her House. Yes, most Slytherins were unsavoury types, her brother included. And definitely Draco Malfoy. But not all Slytherins were like that, especially not her. Or … she liked to think so, at least. While Octavia knew that she was selfish and self-absorbed at times, she also knew that she was welcoming and friendly. She only wanted the best for those she loved … given that she was happy too, of course. But still. She wasn't like the others.
Gryffindors were hardly all saints either, in her opinion. Hermione had a heart of gold, but she was bossy and self-important at times. Harry was suspicious and judgemental when it came to Slytherins. Ron was huffy and quick to explode over the smallest incidents. Everyone was good and bad. No matter the House you belonged to.
Although, the Slytherin Quidditch team were perhaps a little too bad.
"What did Blaise do?" Octavia asked interestedly.
"I wasn't there," Hermione dismissed.
"Yeah, but did Harry and Ron say anything?" Octavia pressed. "He's the Keeper."
"I know he's the Keeper," Hermione rolled her eyes. "They didn't say anything about him."
"Oh," Octavia bit her lip, her eyes narrowing somewhat.
She had hoped for some incriminating intel on her brother, providing her with enough material in the future to discredit him to her parents. That is, if he decided to snitch on her again for being rude to Draco. She needed something on him, just in case. Though, she could always just lie.
It's not like it would be the first time she lied about her brother's behaviour to her parents.
Having just parted ways with Luna who had gone off toward the Ravenclaw Tower, Octavia skipped down the grand staircase as she made her way to her dorms. She was well out passed curfew, roaming through the castle after midnight. But considering the fact that the Head Boy was her brother, and the Head Girl was her best friend, she wasn't exactly anxious about being caught. Plus Hermione knew that she was out after curfew and said nothing.
The main threat was the Prefects. She wasn't exactly on friendly terms with any of the Prefects, particularly the Slytherins ones. Draco and Pansy.
The latter of the two would undoubtedly be shacked up somewhere in the castle with a random guy, while Draco – she assumed – would be currently serving his detention. Or he would be finished with his punishment, and would have already retired to his own dormitory. So she wasn't exactly on edge as she strolled through the main foyer of the castle and toward the Dark Corridor that led to the dungeons.
Foolishly, she allowed herself to hope that she would encounter Professor Diggory on her way to the Slytherin common room. But that was silly, given the late hour and the location of her destination. He would already be in bed, fast asleep probably.
She wondered what he looked like when he slept. He was so handsome, in a dreamy boy-next-door way. His looks were charming without effort. So he probably looked magnificent as he slept.
Did he dream of her?
She didn't know, really. She hoped he did, but it was all speculation. Octavia knew that he harboured affection for her, but how deep did that run? She didn't know.
Actually, she didn't know much about Cedric. Only that she fancied him. But that was a strong premise for an arranged marriage, so it didn't concern her. At least they had the initial attraction. Others weren't so lucky.
In saying that, there were many potential suitors that could be deemed attractive. Like Draco or Theo. But she wasn't attracted to them. So, with Cedric's offer on her contract, she was quite hopeful indeed.
Perhaps their mutual attraction would grow? It had the potential to grow into something beyond physical appeal.
Regardless, it hardly mattered at that point. She could allow herself to ponder their prospective relationship at a future date. But not at that particular moment. For she still had to work on her father to consider his offer.
A difficult task.
Cedric was correct in his statement about his wealth not being abundant enough for her contract. She may have to work if they were to marry. Or maybe not, for her dowry was sufficient to sustain a comfortable lifestyle three times over. The issue was that Octavia was accustomed to a lifestyle that surpassed 'comfortable'. Octavia was accustomed to travelling constantly, and enjoying a life of lavish luxury. Having an unlimited amount of galleons at her disposal for whatever she desired.
Perhaps her father would consider supporting her when she was wed to Cedric?
A girl could dream.
"Out after curfew, little squib?" A familiar aristocratic drawl sounded out, causing Octavia to freeze mid-step.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"What do you want, Draco?" Octavia sighed, turning around to face the unwanted arrival in the Slytherin corridors.
The moment her eyes locked with his fierce grey orbs, fear assaulted her body without mercy. His eyes held so much malice and fury, she feared that his stare alone would destroy her. Octavia held her breath as he stepped toward her casually, his hands stuffed in his pockets. While his movements were casual, she felt like a mouse being hunted by a cat. No. Not a cat.
A wolf.
A hungry wolf out for blood and destruction.
The fury emanated from his muscular body, his jaw clenched tightly causing two light dimples of sorts to appear on his pale cheeks. And not the cute kind. No. It only added to his intimidating appearance.
"I was thinking," Draco drawled, his tone slicing through the air like a sharp knife. "The politically correct term for your blood status is 'wizard-born muggle', no?"
Octavia didn't respond. She merely gulped as he neared her, goosebumps rising up on her flesh as a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't recall a time that he stared at her with such hatred.
"So you are a muggle, of sorts. Therefore, it would be accurate to refer to you as a 'mudblood', would it not?"
Her pink dress brushed against her thigh as she took a step back, his nearing proximity causing her heart to pump surges of horrid adrenaline through her tense body.
"While the blood that runs through your veins is pure," Draco continued, his tone low and drenched with malice, "it is tainted by the abomination that you are. Would you agree, given the facts, that your blood is thereby dirty?"
"No," Octavia croaked, her voice refusing to be more than a pathetic whisper.
"You do not agree?" Draco quirked his brow, coming to a stop right in front of the terrified girl. "Are you calling me a liar?"
"No," Octavia shook her head, her fearful hazel orbs locked into his chilling stare.
"No?" Draco prompted. "No, you do not agree?"
"I'm not calling you a liar," Octavia whispered, her voice shaking along with her body. "I just … don't agree."
"Allow me to present my case," Draco demanded, not making a request in the slightest.
Octavia wanted nothing more than to turn around and bolt down the corridor at an impossible speed, the look in his eyes terrifying her to her fucking core. But the fierceness in his grey eyes had her frozen on the spot, unable to move a muscle.
That is, until he stepped around her, closing in on her as she stumbled backwards, only stopping when her back pressed against the cold, rough wall. The course stone was almost painful against her bare back, but she barely registered it. Her mind was fuzzy, hearing her heart pounding brutally in her ears as he placed his hands on the wall at either side of her head, trapping her.
"I find myself in somewhat of a predicament," Draco spoke icily, his molten grey eyes boring down at her wide hazel orbs. "I possess great respect and familiarity with the Zabini family. It almost pains me that they produced an abomination, such as yourself."
Her eyes stung, the fear taking a complete hold on her as tears welled up. His breath brushed against her face, the scent of peppermint invading her senses. But she was certain that she could taste the hatred too.
"The rumour that circulates your true origin is what prompted my interest, however." Draco continued, stepping closer to her, their bodies a mere inch apart now. "As it happens, Adela Yaxley died of mysterious causes after disappearing for eight months."
Octavia's cheeks were now damp from the light tears that escaped her fearful eyes. She knew exactly where he was going with this, considering the rumour was quite prominent in her society. It was mostly based on her contrasting appearance to the rest of her family, but her mother and father had always assured her that there was no truth behind it. She was their daughter, 'in love and blood' as her mother always said.
"Adela was known to be the mistress of Cerberus Rosier," Draco continued, his body tensing as his anger threatened to take over. "I do not doubt that you are the result of their scandalous relations. A punishment, one could say."
"Leave me al –" Octavia began before Draco slammed his hand on the wall, effectively silencing her as she flinched.
"I am not finished," Draco snarled, his face inching toward hers.
Octavia sank back into the wall, as though the futile attempt would assist her in escaping the man before her. Tears streamed down her blotchy cheeks as she sniffed, her lips damp from the salty liquid.
"We are both aware of the fact that Adela succumbed to death," Draco continued, his voice laced with anger. "But do you know why? I believe that I do."
Octavia shook her head weakly, her face scrunched up as she resisted the sobbing fit that threatened to consume her.
"I believe, little squib," Draco growled, his body almost touching hers as he stared down at her coldly, "that she took her own life after bringing filth like you into the world."
Swallowing back the sob that crept up in her throat, Octavia averted her eyes, fixing her gaze on the collar of his shirt instead.
"Your own mother could not bear to be around you, so she took her own life." Draco growled, Octavia trembling as she cried silently.
Octavia shivered, her tears relentless as his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears gently. Her body trembled further as his face neared hers, his lips brushing against her forehead as a sob escaped her lips.
"Detention for being out after curfew," Draco whispered against her skin before pushing himself from her.
Draco turned and strode down the corridor as Octavia slumped down the wall, burying her face in her hands as she cried. The sounds were muffled by her hands but they carried down the corridor regardless, reaching the ears of Draco Malfoy as he walked away. His jaw clenched tightly as he listened to her weep, conflicted terribly inside.
