THIS IS BOOK 2 IN THE BLOOD TRAITOR TRILOGY.
[BOOK 1: BLOOD TRAITOR CAN BE FOUND ON MY PROFILE]
i.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. However, the character of Nova Malfoy and her unique storylines remain my intellectual property.
The door slammed behind her as she ran into the room, her insides lurched and coiled forcing her forward with such power that she gripped the sink to steady herself. Old, frail skin began to bubble and long matted white hair curled and darkened. As the burning sensation eased, she stood up straighter; watching as muddy almond eyes lightened to a cool grey and wrinkles smoothed into nothingness. Blinking twice, her reflection returned. After a month stuck inside the musty smelling room as her potion brewed, the young witch had been glad to feel the sun on her face as she assumed the identity of one of the Hogshead's more disreputable patrons; she had soon learned that it was much easier to remain off the radar when disguised as someone that nobody particularly wanted to associate themselves with. The solitude had been lonely, though the girl knew that she had very little choice. After destroying the prophecy and facilitating in the arrest of many of the Dark Lord's followers, Nova knew that she could not return to Malfoy Manor. And so, she survived on her own for the first time in her life; near enough forgetting what her own voice sounded like. The only company being the bearded innkeeper with the kind eyes who thought more than he spoke as he continuously polished tankards with a dirty rag, and a rather curious and smelly old goat by the name of Matey. However, one good thing had transpired from her self-banishment. Too cautious to talk to anyone for an extended period of time - regardless of the polyjuice potion - the young witch had spent her time getting acquainted with the portion of her magic that she had often tried to neglect. With use, her legilimency appeared to have grown in power, allowing her to read people with a simple glance. It had become a game of sorts.
Digging in the pocket of the robes that now drowned her, Nova wrestled out a crumpled yellow envelope and hastily ripped it open to reveal a clump of hair that perfectly blended the colour of her twin brother's hair and her own unruly curls, accompanied by a beautiful ring that belonged to her mother and a number of words scrawled onto parchment: Mother wanted you to have this. See you soon. D. A gentle smile twisted her lips at the thought of her brother as she ran a finger over the dried ink before sliding the ring onto her right hand, casting a slight shrinking charm to ensure it fit. Stepping over the mirror that her nightmare had shattered, she approached her cauldron. Bile rose in her throat and her stomach churned at the thought of shifting into the shape of another so soon and so the youngest Malfoy chose to trust that her male counterpart had delivered precisely what she had asked for. Stuffing the loose hairs into a vial, she secured them in her mokeskin bag with a flask of her potion. In case of emergencies. Finally, she peeled the large tattered robes from her petite body; her nose crinkling as the motion of the fabric released the foul odour of their original owner.
As the witch discarded the clothing and pulled one of her own woollen sweaters over her head, a knock rattled the door. The hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention and her hand instinctively reached for her wand. The door shook once more. Tiptoeing, she held her breath and clutched her wand much tighter. Her knuckles white. A trembling hand reached for the doorknob. The handle wobbled as the wood was pounded a third time. Taking a deep breath and running her tongue over her bottom lip, Nova finally built the courage to face one of the thousand possible outcomes that flashed through her mind. Her pulse jumped in her throat, forcing her to swallow heavily; her heart drowning out even the loudest of knocks on the opposite side of the dark wooden barrier.
Slowly, she wrenched the door open.
"Wayward witch courier service!" A pair of identical grins, and a flash of red hair.
Fighting her instincts, the Malfoy girl raised her wand: "Which of my textbooks did you set fire to last year?"
The twins looked at one another before a lazy smirk spread across George's expression: "Trick question." He answered, lackadaisically leaning against the frame of the door as the younger girl studied him. "It was you who set fire to my textbook. Although, I believe it was…" The Weasley cradled his jaw in feigned thought before finishing his sentence in synchronisation with Fred: "The Standard Book of Spells." A sigh of relief passed her lips as they twisted into a smile. Before she could think, she had all but launched herself at the older boy; her arms flinging around his neck. "Hello to you too." He chuckled, returning her embrace.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you!" The girl mumbled into her forearm before pulling away to address both of her friends. "What are you doing here?"
"Mum." They answered in unison.
"Well, we were here to check on the shop but…"
George had continued in explanation before his brother interrupted: "Mum found out that you were staying here and…"
"She was having none of it. So…"
"We're bringing you home!" As they announced their agenda at the same time, they grinned brightly.
However, the young witch only frowned - entirely preoccupied by the possibility that she had made a mistake somewhere along the line: "But I don't understand…I was careful. How…?"
"Dumbledore." The red-headed pair shrugged as they looked from their reflection back to the girl in front of them.
Nova nodded slowly, a gentle frown still twisting her brow as she subconsciously toyed with the dog that hung from her neck. Her heart ached as her fingertips grazed the wooden surface; the last remaining tie to the man that had gifted it to her. Of the man that had died because of a mistake that they had made. Because she had blindly followed the Boy Who Lived. Turmoil thwarted her thoughts, twisting like a knife. A deep chasm widening in the pit of her stomach as the pale and expressionless face pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. Swallowing, she released the pendant and forced the rising tide of trauma back towards the box in which she had locked it, and far far away from the gaping hole in her chest. As the weeks had passed, the grief had only grown darker; slowly snuffing out any sliver of light. Festering as it fermented and poisoned her every whim. A dark blanket hanging heavily across her shoulders.
Unaware of the time that had passed, the younger of the three swallowed once more and twisted her lips into a grimace ought to have been a smile: "Then, let's go."
The back door to The Burrow was littered with wellington boots and old, discarded cauldrons. A strong smell of home-baking wafted through the creaky old door, earning a grumble from her rather neglected stomach; another indication that whilst she had tried, the young witch was certainly unaccustomed to life on her own. Chickens chased one another across the path, clucking contently. It had always seemed that everyone here was happy. Another concept that had confused her upon her initial interactions with the red-headed family. The clattering of plates and cutlery sounded from the kitchen, hinting at the bustling life that had always accompanied the Weasleys. As the twins pushed through the door, Nova followed; the heat from the crackling fire enveloping her. A bright grin spread across her expression at the sight of the family and a warmth swelled in the hollow of her chest for perhaps the first time since Sirius…Sirius. Guilt swarmed like a tidal wave, flushing her with icy cold water and yanking her to the deep dark depths of a sobering reality. Her expression faltered.
"Nova, dear!" Molly Weasley's voice tugged her back to reality. "Look at you, you're as thin as parchment! Sit down, dear." Cool grey sought out George as his mother clasped her shoulders and guided her to the kitchen table. The boy offering a smile and a simple shrug. "I couldn't believe it when Dumbledore told me that you were staying in the Hog's Head all alone!" The woman scolded, tapping a pot with her wand. Nova watched wordlessly as it flew towards her and filled an empty bowl with soup. Her stomach rumbled once more. Placing a chunk of bread in front of the young witch, Mrs Weasley nodded in encouragement. "Eat up, dear."
"Thank you." The girl mumbled, almost forgetting all her manners as she shoved the bread into her mouth. It was still warm from baking, and tasted miles better than the somewhat mouldy bread she had been used to in Hogsmeade.
"The Hog's Head of all places!"
"Well, she couldn't go home, could she? They weren't exactly going to welcome her back." Nova's head snapped to the source of the voice, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as the mop-haired boy nodded. "Alright?"
A flash of frizzy brunette soon appeared from behind: "Ronald, that is so insensitive!" Nova's grin brightened as Hermione slapped the boy's arm. Warm chestnut eyes landed on the dark circles that cradled her friend's eyes. "You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?" The young Malfoy needn't have been a Legilimens to know the true intent behind the Granger girl's question. The meaning behind her scrutinising stare as she tried to mask it. She wanted to know if the ticking time-bomb was set to detonate. If the witch before her was as fragile as she suspected.
Nova simply shrugged, thankful as yet another person entered the already crowded kitchen. The young woman looked to be a few years older than herself, taller and a thousand times more graceful. As she ventured further into the room, she appeared to float rather than walk and the raven-haired witch was certain that she had heard Ron sigh in admiration. The newcomer's pale complexion appeared to radiate the soft glow of the lamps that illuminated the space, perfectly complimenting the silvery blonde hair that flowed freely from her shoulders.
"You muz be Nova!" The older girl spoke with a thick accent, forcing the younger to concentrate on her words. "Eet is a pleasure to meet you."
"Um, you too." Nova cleared her throat and jumped to her feet feeling rather inferior as the beautiful woman floated across the floor towards her and shook her hand delicately. A heavy silence fell amongst the group, forcing the young woman to glance around: Hermione and Mrs Weasley appeared to be looking everywhere but at the stranger, whilst the boys seemed incapable of looking elsewhere.
The witch's brilliant blue eyes widened lightly as she realised that she hadn't introduced herself: "Pardon, Fleur Delacour."
Suddenly a flash of red hair stole her sight from her. The raven-haired girl stumbled backwards as a someone jumped on her; their arms around her neck. As shock subsided, the assailant released her and stepped back with a bright grin: "I wondered when you'd show up." The youngest of the Weasleys smiled, before slapping the arm of her friend. "That's for not writing to me."
Nova rubbed her arm with a feigned frown, betrayed by the quirk of a smile that highlighted the dimple on her left cheek. For perhaps the first time since the night that brought her nightmares to the forefront of her woken mind, there was the faintest glimmer of light amongst the darkness; reminding the young witch as she stood surrounded by the family that had embraced her that she wasn't entirely as alone as she had allowed herself to believe.
The world around her was dark. Darker than anything she had ever experienced, and that alone frightened her. Her breathing was rapid; the only sound to be heard in the room. That accompanied by the hammering of her heart. Grey eyes flickered anxiously, cold hands clenched in fear.
"You'll never be alone." The words were nothing but a whisper, barely audible through the suffocating silence. And yet, the young witch would know them anywhere.
"Sirius?" She called out, her voice reverberating off invisible walls. Frantically she searched, her hair whipping her cheek as she spun with the hope of catching a glimpse of him. "Sirius, where are you?"
Suddenly, her blood ran cold as a familiar archway appeared afore her. Bile rose in her throat as she shook her head: "No." Hands gripped her limbs, halting her as she tried to run. "No, please!" Her pleading fell into the deaf silence as she fought to yank herself free, adrenaline battling with logic. Fingers dug themselves into her skin, bruising and tearing. Tears stung tired eyes as they fell to her flushed cheeks.
The fight left her the moment he appeared before her. His eyes crinkled with the joy and love that she had grown to know him for. He held his arms out to embrace her, yet the chilled, clammy hands only dug their nails deeper; holding her steady as they drew specks of blood through her pale complexion. He laughed, carefree and youthful. The sound sending a spear through her heart as he uttered the last words she'd ever hear him say: "Come on, you can do better than that!"
"No!" The plea ripped through her as she lurched forward, reaching out to him with all the strength she could muster. However, time stood slowed to a halt. Her knees buckled and a wave of turmoil washed over her. Sirius stumbled backwards.
And once more, he took an age to fall.
She bolted upright as she started awake, the air slamming into her lungs. A vase on the windowsill in front of her shook violently before shattering. Cool grey eyes widening as her hand stretched forward, involuntarily. The shards paused in mid-air.
"How did you do that?" The wonder in the Granger girl's whisper matched that on the Malfoy's face as she frowned lightly, tilting her head as she studied the scene afore her before finding herself at a loss for words. Hermione yawned, fumbling around in her bag as she retrieved her wand. "Reparo." As the vase mended itself before their eyes, Ginny stirred in her sleep drawing the girls' attention before she settled once more, snoring lightly. Sleepy chestnut eyed the raven-haired girl cautiously. "You shouted his name." She whispered, "How often…"
"Every night." Nova sighed, rubbing her eyes: "What time is it?"
"About one..." The muffled mumble, drew the attention of the younger girl who turned to see her friend cuddled up with a pillow on her cot bed, her eyes shut.
Now wide awake, Nova sighed lightly and released herself from the knitted blanket that had entangled itself around her legs like a python. Quietly, she crept out of Ginny's bedroom and headed for the staircase. A dim glow illuminated the final steps, and a hushed conversation alerted the girl to the fact that she was not alone, however as she reached the bottom, she was met with someone that she did not expect to see so late.
"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, looking up from where she was seated at the kitchen table. The red-headed woman engulfed in an old tattered green dressing gown. Across from her sat Tonks, a large mug cradled between her hands.
"Um, I just needed a glass of water." As she headed for the sink, Nova stole a glance towards her cousin. She looked a lot older than the last time she had seen her; mousy brown replacing the usual vibrant hair colours. In her current state, the youngest Malfoy saw the familial resemblance from the Black bloodline. As silence descended, the pain felt by Tonks became evident; as though it were screaming in the mind of the legilimens. "You aren't alone." The words blurted out before she had the chance to filter them, and she cringed. The brunette woman raised her brows in alarm, causing the younger girl to flush scarlet and avert her gaze sheepishly. "Sorry…People are easier to read when they're feeling down."
Tonks nodded curtly as she returned her solemn stare to the mug of tea in front of her: "It's alright." She muttered. As Nova opened her mouth to respond, three loud raps on the back door startled them. Promptly, Mrs Weasley headed off to answer it. Grey eyes wandered to the Auror as she pulled her wand from the sleeve of her jacket; knuckles white as she clutched it tightly. "If anything happens, go upstairs."
With wide eyes, the young witch nodded as muffled voices echoed in the hallway before three sets of footprints approached.
"Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected." A familiar voice rang out, as the small group entered the modest kitchen. "Ah, hello, Nymphadora!" As Tonks responded, Nova noted the way her shoulders visibly relaxed. "Nova, I see you made it in one piece." It was the first time that the Malfoy girl had laid eyes on the Headmaster since the dreadful events at the Ministry. And the first time that any words had been exchanged since that afternoon in Grimmauld Place. The afternoon that Dumbledore had inadvertently revealed what he truly thought of her:
She paused as her fingertips grazed the dark wood of the kitchen door. A hushed argument caressing her ears as she silently paused in the hallway.
"You are not going to use her to get to him – I won't allow it! Harry was born into this but Nova has a choice."
"I do not think she does, Sirius. I fear her fate lies with Mr Potter's." The brash tones of Alistair Moody's voice were unmistakable to the young witch as she frowned at their topic of conversation.
"Then I will do everything in my power to protect her, including, stopping you from using her as a weapon! She is the daughter of his most loyal followers, I will not allow you to put her in anymore danger!" Her mother's cousin argued, a ferocity in his tone. "She's a child, Albus, and a scared one at that."
"She is too powerful for her own good and soon enough Voldemort will stop at nothing to take her and I am not sure that she will refuse." Professor Dumbledore added. A feeling of betrayal swept through Nova's heart as she comprehended the old wizard's words. He had said that he would protect her and yet he compared her to the very person that she had ruined her life to destroy.
"Nova is nothing like him, how dare you compare them?"
"I fear your love for the girl is blinding you, Sirius." The headmaster sighed, the softness of his tone muffled by the door. The young Malfoy witch frowned, tears welling in her eyes as she looked down at the threadbare carpet as she considered the truth in his words. It was naïve to assume that there were no similarities between her and the Dark Lord but it had warmed her heart to hear the way Sirius had defended her with such ferocious tenacity.
"Her blood is my blood. She has a good heart." Sirius argued, anger seeping through his tone as he spoke through gritted teeth. Nova swiftly blinked back her tears and locked her emotions behind a passive, nonchalant expression – much like her twin brother's. "I have heard enough."
The younger of the two women in the modest kitchen noted the lack of response from her cousin, and offered a greeting to the Potter boy who had remained firmly by the Professor's side. Her voice pulled Nova from the confines of her mind as she relived the moment that fuelled her resentment for the man that she had begun to view as a mentor. The memory was a painful one. Not simply because it scarred the forefront of her mind, highlighting the repercussions of the prophecy with a sobering reality that if it came to her life or Harry's, the final line of that prophecy would ring true, but because it reminded her that her biggest champion was no longer with her; and that thought alone raised the tsunami of emotion that threatened to drown her in every flitting moment. And Nova was not convinced that she could swim on her own.
Once Harry had freed himself from the mother in the room, his attention was absorbed by the older girl. A genuine smile broke across his expression as he observed her, the gentle pince between her brow as she was lost to her thoughts, the unruly dark curls that made it evident that she had been sleeping prior to his arrival, and the jumper that undoubtedly belonged to her brother as it drowned her. His feet carried him forward without the need for thought, his smile only growing when the girl met him halfway looking equally as pleased to see him.
As he wrapped his arms around her, the Malfoy smiled; a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. The cold night air still clinging to his jumper, and sending a slight chill through her despite the warm glow of the kitchen hearth. Nevertheless, she returned the embrace, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
After a moment too long, the pair untangled themselves. The girl clearing her throat in an attempt to mask the tint of pink that now brandished her expression. Her eyes wandered over him as she concluded: "You're taller." Tucking a curl behind her ear, Nova put a little more distance between them and turned to her abandoned glass of water, leaving Harry grinning like a fool and silently cursing his inability to control his facial expression.
Tonks excused herself as soon as she was sure that it no longer seemed rude, passing the youngest witch and offering a light nod before turning on the spot in the field and disappearing into the night. As Dumbledore followed suit, Mrs Weasley remarked how skinny the raven-haired boy looked and produced a large bowl of soup accompanied by a chunk of bread before she also dismissed herself, telling the pair to head to bed. Silence descended upon them as the girl joined him at the table, suddenly rather interested in the loose thread on the end of her right sleeve. There was a massive elephant in the room, and yet neither particularly wanted to broach the subject. Finally the boy spoke up:
"Dumbledore wants to give me private lessons this year. You too."
Nova scowled, darkly: "What for? So he can prepare me for slaughter?" Her tone was bitter, drawing Harry's attention to her expression; it was colder than he had remembered it - right down to the colour of her eyes as they appeared much more like her brother's and father's than the warm grey glow that had resembled Sirius'. Her mouth was turned downward as she clenched her jaw, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Ice grey trained on her fingers as they twisted around one another underneath the sleeves of her jumper. Emerald watched as she pursed her lips tighter and swallowed heavily, trying with all her might to keep whatever was swarming around within her mind from making its escape. Her frown was deep, and she looked exhausted. Dark rings darkening her eyes, and forcing her complexion to look paler than he had ever seen it. As she sighed roughly through her nose and looked at him, Harry waited, wishing that she was confide in him. In truth, he needed her to; in the months since Sirius' death he had felt more isolated than ever, and so selfishly, he prayed that she would tell him that she felt the same. Prayed that she would understand. However, as she opened her mouth, she simply asked: "How's your soup?"
And Harry laughed. Louder than he ought to have considering the time, yet he couldn't help it. His eyes glistened as humour battled the melancholy that had grown at home within them. A bright grin fighting the dour expression that he had grown accustomed to. If there was one thing that he knew about the girl, it was that she was unpredictable. Despite her foul mood, a laugh escaped Nova's pale pink lips; her curls bouncing lightly as she shook her head, acknowledging how ridiculous she had sounded.
As emerald met grey, and perhaps for the first time since the Department of Mysteries, the boy felt something other than a gaping hole:
"I missed you."