Draco took his usual seat at the library. He looked around for her, but she wasn't there yet. She was usually here before he was, but ever since Halloween when she'd made friends with Harry and Ron she'd been turning up later and later.
She stopped rushing meals like he did, and ate slowly, talking to Ron and Harry and some of the other Gryffindor kids.
She turned up ten minutes after that. "Sorry I'm late!" She said breathlessly. "I got caught up in conversation. Ran all the way here."
"Whatever are you sorry for? I'm always late." Draco said to make her feel better.
"Oh, no you're not," She said, taking stuff out of her bag and sitting down. "In fact, you're always here the same time, just about."
Draco smiled. "If you say so." He stood up. "I'll be back." He said.
He wandered off to the bookshelves, and huffed when he saw a book that had been put back on the shelf roughly, spine facing the back of the shelf. "How can anyone expect to pass their exams," he put the book in correctly, making sure to be careful of the already bent cover "if they can't even put a book in a shelf the right way?"
He ran his fingers along the dusty spines, searching for the right book. He wasn't searching for a particular book-just one to read, take his mind off things.
A title caught his eye. It didn't look like it belonged on this shelf-it was soft grey colour, in vast contrast to the dusty, ugly browns and reds of the other books on the shelf.
He pulled it out, and looked at it. The Diary of Anne Frank, it read. He turned it over to read the back, but there wasn't a description.
He opened the front cover to see the list of past borrowers, but it wasn't there. It didn't seem to be a library book, but it looked very worn and well-loved. It must be good.
He didn't read a page. He trusted the opinion of whoever's book this was.
Draco took it to the front desk. "Madam Pince?" He said tentatively. She whirled around, a grimace on her face, as if talking to him was the very last thing she wanted to do. He put the book on the desk and pushed it towards her.
"I found this book. It doesn't appear to be a library book." She picked it up, and as she did, a note fell out of it and floated down to the library desk.
They looked at each other, and Madam Pince snatched the note up in her claw-like fingers.
She read the note, her eyebrows raised, and passed it to Draco when she was done.
To whomever finds this,
This book has touched me in no way a book has ever, and it is time for me to pass it on so somebody else may get what I got from it.
It tells the true story of Anne Frank, a young girl living in an attic during World War Two. This is her diary, and it contains notes and poems depicting her experiences during the war.
It reminded me that even though my life may seem tough at times, it could be so much worse, and you just need to look for the light at the end of the dark tunnel. Anne Frank saw hope and love while she was experiencing horrible things, and it taught me to always look for the good in people.
This isn't a library book, and I'm putting it in the very back shelf of the library, where hardly anyone ever goes. I hope that the person who finds it is the right one.
From a well wisher.
Draco looked up from the piece of paper with wide eyes. It wasn't parchment.
Madam Pince shrugged. "There isn't any room for clutter in here. You can have it." She handed him the book, and Draco tucked it under his arm.
"Thank you." He said, and she nodded and turned her back.
Draco went back to his seat, and opened the book. Hermione peeked at the cover.
"I've heard of that book. I wanted to read it, but Mum told me it was terribly sad and wouldn't let me."
"Oh." Draco said. "I'm still going to read it."
"I wonder what a muggle book is doing in the library." Hermione said thoughtfully.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Draco huddled in front of the fire in the common room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The common room was always cold-but no too cold to be unable to adjust. But as it got closer to Christmas, it soon got almost unbearably cold. And Draco wasn't quite good enough to perform a warming charm yet.
He sat as close to the fire as he could without risking setting himself on fire. His cheeks felt warm and his back felt cold.
He had pushed the couch forwards and was leaning against it, with the book he found and a packet of almonds he took from lunchtime.
He was halfway through the diary already, and the person who left it was right. It was an amazing thing to read, and scary because all the things that happened to her were true. Draco shuddered at the thought of being shut in for so long.
Draco flipped pages, munching on almonds, while the flames in the fireplace got lower and lower and the common room darker and darker.
His eyelids got heavy, and before he knew it, his head was lolled back onto the couch and the book fell from his hands. He snored softly for a while, before waking with a jolt. He glanced at his watch. 1 am. His mum wouldn't be happy if she knew how late he stayed up.
Deciding it was time to go to bed, he gathered the remaining almonds and picked up the book, and headed up to the dormitory.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Dear Harry,
You can stay if you really want to. We were looking forward to seeing you, but you can stay there with the Weasleys if you really want to.
The twins are a bit upset. They made you drawings.
Write back this time!
Love, Mum, Dad, Gran, Leo and Celeste.
Narcissa had just finished writing the letter when Lucius entered the study. "Hello, darling."
"Hello, my beautiful Cissy." Lucius said, taking her hand and spinning her around.
"I'm guessing the deal went well?" She laughed.
Lucius nodded. "Yes, they agreed to buy the house for an extra two hundred galleons."
"That's wonderful!" Narcissa exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. "I wrote a bit more of the book today. It's coming along really well!" Narcissa had been writing a novel for the past few months.
"Oh, and I wrote back to Harry," she said. The happy smile fell from her husband's face.
"Are we still letting him stay?"
"Yes." Narcissa said firmly. "He's got independence now, Lucius, and we have to start letting him make his own decisions."
"Narcissa, he's eleven. And we're his parents who haven't seen him for three months."
"Yes, Lucius I know that, but-"
Lucius cut her off. "You do realise that it'll be another three months before we see him again, right?"
"I know that. And I miss him, but as I said, he's got to start making his own decisions. We can talk to him if they're the wrong ones, or possibly life-changing ones, but this is neither. He's just a boy who wants to spend Christmas with his best friend."
"I know, Narcissa, my goodness, how many times have you said that already?"
"Not enough for you to listen, evidently." She crossed her arms and took a step back from him.
"We are his parents, and he is our son. As I am his father, I say he should spend Christmas with his family." Lucius said, his voice getting louder.
When most people are angry, their voices get louder and louder until they're shouting. Their faces got red, and they felt hot all over, like fire.
Narcissa, however was a different story. When she got angry, her voice got softer and softer, dropping to almost a whisper, and instead of presenting her emotions with yelling, she expressed them with tone. She didn't feel hot all over when she was angry-she felt cold. Often a shiver would run down her spine, and that is when she would use a certain tone that could make almost anyone stop and listen to her.
"I know you are his father, Lucius." She said quietly, looking him dead in the eye. "But I am his mother. And I say that he is allowed to make his own decisions."
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Fine. I am not happy about this." With that, he turned, and walked out of the room briskly.
Narcissa sat down at the desk and buried her face in her hands. They hadn't had a heated argument like that for years, and now she felt sick with the guilt of it. She breathed in and out until the horrible feeling faded.
She placed the letter in the envelope and smiled when she folded up the twins' drawings. Celeste had drawn a thundercloud with a bolt of lightning setting a broom on fire. Narcissa guessed it was Harry's broom.
When Celeste had found out that Harry wasn't coming home for Christmas, she's pouted and thrown a tantrum. Leo's reaction had been much the same, except with more tears and less furious kicks and shrieks.
Leo had scribbled all over a piece of paper in blue and red and yellow, with a circle in the corner. Narcissa wasn't exactly sure what it was meant to be.
She yawned, and looked at the time. She had been intending to do some more writing before sending the letter off, but it was far too late. It was one in the morning.
After sealing the envelope with a stamp, she gave it to her owl, Artemis, and turned off the lights in the study. On her way out, she tripped on the chair leg and twisted her ankle, falling to the ground with a pained shriek.
She cursed under her breath and heard footsteps running up the stairs. "Cissa?" Lucius said worriedly, turning the lights back on. When they were on, he saw her sprawled out on the floor, her mouth twisted into a grimace.
He helped her up gently, and helped her sit on the sofa in the sitting room, propping her foot up with a pillow. He got some ice from the kitchen and gave it to her.
"Thanks." She said, taking it.
"Look," he said, taking her hand in his. She looked at him. "I'm sorry. You're right. He should be able to make his own decision. I shouldn't have yelled."
"I shouldn't have whispered," she said, and they both laughed.