Chapter Twenty: I Never Told You What I Do For a Living
Chapter title taken from the My Chemical Romance song.
"I don't deserve to live."
A lot is happening straight ahead! Emotions will be high and a lot of information will be revealed. I hope it doesn't come off as confusing, if it does let me know :)
"How was your weekend, Rosalind?" a yawning Hermione asked Monday morning. "We missed you at the party, I was hoping to catch up with you."
The girls were sipping their tea and coffee, walking into the lift on their way to their departments. "It was good, George took me out for my birthday. He definitely outdid himself," Rosalind replied trying hard not to blush.
"You didn't tell us it was your birthday!" the bushy haired girl exclaimed. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I thought you were upset with me to be honest," she admitted. The golden grilles opened, and the cool female voice reminded them they were at the correct floor. "After Madam Malkin's the other day with Daphne and Pansy. I should've stood up for you and Ginny I'm sorry-I had no idea you guys don't like each other."
Hermione swigged some tea, giving the American a reassuring look. "Oh Rosalind don't be sorry," she said gently. "We shouldn't have acted that way, Ginny and I-we keep forgetting that you're new here and everyone else has known each other their whole lives. I personally don't know Daphne very well but Pansy was a snotty bully while we were at Hogwarts but that was ages ago. They come from a background of Pureblood elitists and Death Eaters so we're just concerned for you. We don't want you to get hurt." Her voice was sincere.
"That's what Ron told me, he thinks they would turn on me if something happened. They honestly feel like my friends though, they've been very welcoming and I'm finally starting to adjust to living here. I just-" she struggled to find the right words. "I don't know. Sorry for not being a better friend." She felt dumb apologizing, like the last kid in class to get the joke.
Hermione smiled, giving her a warm hug. "You are a great friend, Rosalind you don't need to apologize for anything. You can be friends with whomever you'd like, we're not going to judge you."
"Thank you Hermione," she said relieved. "That means a lot to me."
"Don't mention it." She smiled brightly and left for the Auror's office catching up to Harry and Ron who waved at her.
Rosalind sighed, happy that Ginny and Hermione weren't upset with her. She sat at her desk going straight to work, when an annoyed Draco interrupted her.
"My mum's coming. She has something for you. Act like you're happy to see her."
"What she's here-?"
"Rosalind!"
Narcissa Malfoy strut into the room in her sharp black robes and elegant heels. She greeted Rosalind warmly, holding a gift basket and a medium sized box. She looked almost as happy as she did the night of the party, hinting at a smile. "Draco let it slip that it was your birthday last weekend, and I couldn't resist stopping by with a small gift."
"Oh Mrs. Malfoy," Rosalind said as she hugged her politely. "That's so thoughtful of you but you really didn't have to-"
"Darling," she replied with a smile, "I already told you, call me Narcissa." She winked, watching as Rosalind awkwardly opened the contents of the gift basket: treacle tarts, pumpkin pasties and several other desserts simmered a savory aroma, along with the bitter smell of cuts of meat and cheese, with a bottle of old French wine.
"I had Pipsqueak bake some desserts for you and fetch a bottle of wine," Narcissa continued as she made her way to the other box. "And Daphne sent over your measurements, I hope you don't mind."
"This is...wow," Rosalind breathed. She pulled out a knee-length, emerald green dress with a low scooping back. "This is beautiful."
Narcissa smiled, flashing her pointed teeth. "Don't you love it? It would look darling with your beautiful skin tone. Wear it next time you come over for dinner."
Rosalind smiled, her cheeks beginning to burn. "Thank you, this is so kind of you." She struggled folding the dress neatly back in the box as Mrs. Malfoy helped her.
"I know how well you treat Draco," she said softly. "And I greatly appreciate it. He can be a bit of a handful but he has been very happy these last few months." Her eyes were gentle, the arrogance gone: she looked like a mother.
"Oh he's not that bad anymore," she laughed. "He can be quite the sweetheart when he wants to."
Narcissa smiled. "He is." She cleared her throat, straightening her back. "Let me know next time you're around, we'll have the whole family over." She turned to her son who was scribbling away on a piece of parchment on the other side of the room.
Rosalind stepped away to set her gifts aside, when a curious Ron and Harry poked their noses through the door in search of food. "Who's got pumpkin pasties?" Ron asked.
"You want some?" she asked, throwing one in their direction.
"Thanks!" They chewed through the dessert quickly, hardly inhaling."Where'd chu get these?" Ron asked mid swallow. "They're amazing."
"Narcissa gave them to me for my birthday," she replied slightly under her breath. "They're good, huh?"
Harry swallowed wide-eyed while Ron nearly dropped his remaining pasty on the floor. "How'd you get acquainted with the Malfoys?"
"I went to a party the other day at their house. Met a lot of people there." Her voice was slow, noting Ron's tone.
"You got invited to the Pureblood Elite Party?" his voice was harsh.
"I thought it was a welcome home party for Lucius." Her heart stopped for a second seeing Ron's pained expression. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," he said grudgingly as Harry was finishing his last bit of pasty to diffuse the situation. "Is just that only Pureblood elitists get invited to that. My whole family's never gone."
"What Ron means is that that was normally used as a Death Eater recruiting party," Harry cut in before Ron could speak up. "We know you're friends with some of the people there, we just don't want you to get involved in something that could be dangerous. Most of them are on the run too so there are probably a lot of people who know where they are."
Rosalind nodded, trying to understand what they meant. "There weren't any Death Eaters there. I mean, Lucius was," she said as her heart beat rapidly, "but he does live there." Both the boys eyed her suspiciously. "They don't want to be Death Eaters anymore or be seen as elitists, they want to turn over a new leaf. You-Know-Who is gone, they're basically disbanded." She felt stupid for defending them but didn't like the way Harry and Ron were eyeing her. "Draco's not a Death Eater anymore either."
"I know." Harry twiddled his thumbs for a second, clearing his thoughts. "Draco's not a bad man. Just be careful, alright? Remember you're still new here so there will be plenty of people who will want to take advantage of you."
"Thanks Harry," Rosalind said with a small smile. "I really appreciate it."
Harry nudged Ron, who was still staring at the floor. "Right. What he said. Sorry for being a prat but...they're all known for being dodgy people. Just watch out." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Thanks for the pasty." He gave her a small simper before leaving for the Auror's Office with Harry.
Rosalind sighed, unsure of what was bothering her more-that all her friends seemed to have a past of disliking each other, or that they thought she couldn't handle herself. They're just looking out for me, she thought, which didn't explain away her guilt.
She slid into her desk next to Draco, who was reading the Prophet. "You all done getting interrogated by Potter and Weaselbee?"
"That obvious?" she pulled out her notes, pretending to be busy. "I don't know why people think I can't take care of myself."
"I don't think that." He had a glimmer of a smile in his eyes. "I know you can handle your own. Except when it comes to me of course."
Rosalind rolled her eyes. "I could handle you easily."
"How? You're like two feet tall."
Rosalind glared at him, stinging him with a spell. "Ow! Stop being a prat." He rubbed his calf, unable to keep his smile.
"You know you like it," she said playfully. Draco smirked, opening his mouth for a retort when Bowen walked into the room looking somber. He stood at the head of the room, his bowler hat resting in his hands.
"I have grave news to share with you all this morning." His voice waved the room into silence. "Over the weekend, one of our own was taken. She was able to ward off her attackers and is currently in St. Mungo's. She's in much better condition than she was yesterday but she cannot be discharged yet." Bowen set his bowler hat down. "Breckenridge was traveling alone and caught off guard. I know that you all are highly trained officers but I feel the need to remind you that we cannot be too careful. Never travel alone and always notify someone of where you are and where you will be going." He paused, as Lucille and others gasped. "Breckenridge is recovering but she is not at her strongest yet. I will keep you all updated as soon as I am aware of her condition." He sighed somberly, approaching Rosalind's desk cautiously. "She has requested to see you," he said in a low voice. "She'd like to see you as soon as possible."
"What?" Rosalind asked flabbergasted. "Why?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted sounding concerned. "Take Malfoy with you."
"Alright," she said with a confused expression on her face. She nodded at Draco, who followed suit.
"What do you reckon she wants?" he asked. They were striding through the halls of St. Mungo's in search of the correct room.
"No idea. We don't talk either so I don't know what to expect." She turned to a young witch asking for directions, who led them into a small blinding-white room. Breckenridge was laying on the bed, almost too tall for it; her long thick legs were covered in bruises and there were spots of dry blood on her face. A glowing strand of what looked like an IV was hooked into her arm, providing nutrients for her. She was pale, no longer looking intimidating: she looked weak.
"Hello?" Rosalind said awkwardly. "Bowen said you wanted to see me."
The gargantuan woman patted the edge of the mattress, and it raised her into a sitting position. "Yeah. I did." Her voice was still gruff.
"What did you want to see me about?"
Breckenridge stared at Draco. "You sure you want him in here?"
"Yes. Whatever you have to say he can hear it too," she replied as Draco crossed his arms in annoyance.
"Alright." She sighed, wincing at the pain in her broken ribs. "I heard you a while ago talking about the girl who was attacked and how you thought that there was a reason why she was alive, that someone is trying to send a message. There haven't been werewolf sightings since the war ended but with what happened at Azkaban and that girl and over the weekend I think your theory makes sense...there's someone out there that's trying to get their point across."
Rosalind and Draco stared at each other then back at Breckenridge. "What happened?"
"After I left the Halloween party I was heading back to my flat alone as always but I felt like I was being followed. Before I had time to react I was ambushed and taken somewhere, I've no idea where, the woods maybe? But I was in and out of consciousness. What I thought were dogs were actually people behaving like animals, it was the strangest thing because it wasn't even a full moon. They kept pestering me, asking me questions and trying to hex me with my wand but it wasn't working for them...it was bizarre..." Her voice trailed off as she struggled to make sense of her memories. "I think some of them might have been Muggles, or Squibs. But not all of them were because I was definitely hit with some nasty Cruciatis Curses, they were terrible." Her eyes were hollow, pained. "There are certain things I can't remember though, I think they were getting frustrated with me because I wouldn't do whatever it was they wanted me to do. They weren't even speaking English half the time so I had no idea what the hell they were saying." She looked into Rosalind's eyes, looking bewildered. "Do you know them? Do they have something on you?"
Rosalind's stomach dropped. "I think I know who you're talking about," she finally said.
Draco and Breckenridge stared at her as she struggled to find the right words. "Well?"
"They're-they're not from here." She wrung her hands nervously, beads of sweat already running down her neck. "What did they look like? Were they short, tall? Dark skinned or light? Tattoos or piercings or anything?"
"Most of them were shorter and not that dark, maybe your skin color," Breckenridge answered slowly. "I can't remember much but they were all tattooed. My memory feels really foggy."
"Does it feel manipulated? Your memory?"
"I s'ppose it does, not terribly but I remember enough that I didn't tell them anything about you or myself."
"Does anything strangely specific hurt? Like your head or your chest or your back?"
"Yeah, my back does." She removed the top part of her robes and turned her torso, revealing a small, faint scratch. "Not sure how I got this."
Rosalind leaned closer, observing the frail mark. "Was this when you were running away? How'd you escape?"
"I waited. There were others there they were trying to talk to but they were behaving oddly and I was bigger than most of them so I just ran for it." She no longer looked gargantuan, she almost looked scared. "If it was the full moon I don't think I would've made it out..I think they had werewolves there."
"What did you tell them?" Rosalind asked nervously.
"Nothing," she replied. "They weren't necessarily asking anything they were more demanding something of me but I don't know what," she said rather calmly. "What do you know about them?"
Rosalind pursed her lips. "If they're who I think they are they're gang members. They must have finally made their way over here. I went to El Salvador a few years ago to fight against them and we'd hear talks about how they were going to make their way up to the States and then Europe but it didn't seem like it could happen..." She gripped her hair, pacing the room. "Our civil war started because wizards began allying with these Muggle gang members to overthrow the government and it worked-I was part of a resistance team but I left after the war because I didn't think I needed to be there anymore. They use their power to intimate both Muggles and wizards because the Muggle gang bangers are ruthless. They aren't afraid of anything. I've seen them set fire on a bus full of women and children simply because they felt like it. They don't kill just for strategy they kill for fun as well."
It was Draco and Breckenridge's turn to stare at her in confusion. "So what are they doing here?"
"They track people-everyone, with their wands. I'm not sure how they tracked the Muggles, but by the time I got home every wizard in the States had their whereabouts known. They know our names, addresses, dates of birth and every spell we have ever used. That's how people get caught and sent to jail, by the tracking but they won't own up to it. That's how they keep people incarcerated. By the time I left they had already crossed the borders and infiltrated our government. These Muggles wanted more power. Somehow they've convinced some wizards down there that they should be treated equally or better and I think that's similar to what they're trying to do here except they're targeting werewolves."
"But why would they do that? Shouldn't they go after elitists or Death Eaters?" Draco inquired.
"I think they tried," Rosalind said slowly. It was starting to make sense: Adriana, Azkaban and the disappearances. "Remember when your father was the only person that wasn't able to escape Azkaban? He refused to say anything because I think he was protecting his old friends, but I think there's a reason that Death Eaters didn't survive as much as other prisoners did. They tried going after who they believed had the most power but the Death Eaters rejected them."
"That's why my father stayed behind," Draco said. "Death Eaters don't like werewolves or Muggles, but they would've done anything to save their necks."
"Exactly." Rosalind nodded. "They overestimated their plan. So they're-I don't know, I'm guessing revolting? They're angry."
"So why haven't they killed anyone?" Breckenridge asked. "If they're as dangerous as you say they are wouldn't they have gone on a rampage?"
"They're waiting. They have to compensate for the numbers they don't have. I'm guessing they were trying to recruit you for your size."
"Well I don't blame them," she attempted a smile. "It all seemed so half hazard and unplanned."
"The smaller cliques don't really know what they're doing. They might have been younger and newer recruits who haven't earned their positions yet." She swallowed the lump in her throat, hands sweating. "You got hit with a Memory Charm by the way, but it's not a good one. You should get your memories back soon." She looked over at Draco, who knew it was time to leave. "I hope you recover quickly."
Breckenridge waved a bruised hand. "Thanks. Take care of yourself."
She smiled stiffly, opening the door as her hands shook and stepped out into the hall. Her heart was beating rapidly, more than it had in years. What if they found her and let the world know what she'd done? She'd lose her job and her friends. She'd be lucky if they didn't kill her.
"Are you alright?" Draco sounded concerned. "You're pale."
Rosalind shook her head, forcing back the knot in her throat. "No." She sounded like a child who needed a parent. "I don't know what to do."
"What do you mean? Do you think they're after you?"
"Not necessarily...but they might have something on me." She tried to look at him but couldn't bring herself to do it. "I have to talk to Bowen. And Harry. They need to know."
"Know what? They sound like a bunch of thugs."
"What they're capable of!" Rosalind exclaimed. "There's a reason why people at home fear them so much!" She quickened her pace, paranoid someone could hear her. "I have to warn them...They're planning something." She ignored Draco's worried look and hurried back to the Ministry.
As soon as the golden grilles opened she felt a flood of panic: how was she going to explain this to them without implicating herself?
She made a stop at her desk, grabbing her notes and approached Bowen's door hesitantly, her hands still shaking while Draco fetched the others. She didn't really want to tell them, at least not everything. But she couldn't take a chance and stay quiet either. She held her breath and knocked on the door. Draco, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dawlish were already in the office, looking concerned as soon as she stepped in.
Bowen spoke first. "Mr. Malfoy has informed us that you needed to speak with us immediately," he said with a pale face. "I understand that you've already spoken with Ms. Breckenridge, is that correct?"
"Yes sir," she replied nervously, her notes tucked under her arm. He signaled her to continue and Rosalind spread her maps, spreadsheets and notes on the mahogany desk. She inhaled sharply again, beginning her theory.
"Since Adriana Holmes was attacked, I've been researching and noticing patterns in certain areas. Specifically, more rural areas such as the village she is from have been targeted probably because they normally do not report crimes unless someone has died. The death toll has not been high unless there have been repeat offenses." She pulled out a map of a nearby town, little red dots sparkling where people have died, blue marking where they had been mysteriously attacked or disappeared. "This has been going on for a couple of years and they don't target the wealthy. I don't think that's a coincidence." She stared at them, waiting for a reaction but they were enthralled in the maps and diagrams, passing them around.
"The wealthy have all they need and are more of a risk, as well as the elderly. The majority of the people who have been attacked or disappeared are working class or working poor adults who are struggling to get by. And also-" she waved her wand, a financial chart displaying in front of them. "These people don't have much going for them. They aren't Ministry employees, they aren't bankers or shop owners, they are the economically disadvantaged who are barely getting by. Every single time one of them turns up missing or dead, there is record that it is a repeat offense-someone has been harassing them and nothing was done and even then their murders were unsolved." She waved her wand again, throwing up graphic images into the air. Ron and Hermione grimaced at the photographs. "Additionally, they have become progressively worse: what started out as slashed throats and severed body parts eventually became decapitated heads with animal-like markings, and what is known a Columbian necktie."
"What's a Columbian necktie?" Ron asked as another photograph enlarged as an example, Ron's face immediately turning green.
"What makes you believe these are related, Miss Morana?" Bowen asked skeptically.
"Because I knew people just like this." She waved her wand once more, and the photographs became even more grotesque, evidenced by the cringing in the room. "When I was in El Salvador I was part of a team that fought against gang members and human traffickers. The aftermath of our civil war left our economy in shambles and we have yet to recover from it because gangs have rampaged the country to increase their numbers. They don't go after the wealthy unless they are looking for ransom, they target the poor and the disadvantaged, the ones who feel like they have nothing to lose because they are the easiest to manipulate. Talking to Breckenridge earlier confirmed my suspicions-she was taken by these same people. I knew right away when she told me that there were a mix of Muggles and wizards because that's exactly what it was like in El Salvador. Corrupt wizards have teamed up with Muggle gang bangers to overthrow the government under the guise that integration is the way of the future. By the time I left the States they had already made it there. They were in our neighborhoods and in with our law enforcement agencies."
"But the Statute of Secrecy-"
"-Is not enforced. No one cares as long as they're getting what they want."
Bowden leaned back in his chair, his hands folded together. He glanced at Harry and Dawlish, who had their lips pursed. The air was heavy. "Continue."
Rosalind held her breath. Her hands were still shaking, her palms dripping to the point so could barely hold her wand. "The night my parents died our house was broken into. They were both gang members but one was a wizard and one was a Muggle. They murdered before I had a chance to save them and attempted to dismember their bodies." She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, a tear beginning to trail down her cheek. She wiped it away annoyingly as Hermione gasped, Ron looked uncomfortable, Harry, Dawlish and Bowden looked worried. "But they weren't even the intended targets-I was. The reason they found me was because they tracked me through my wand. There had been rumors that that was how lawbreakers were caught and imprisoned. With the help of my former partner my sister and I fled to Mexico before coming here. My old partner said he had heard the rumors as well and that American agencies were combining Muggle technology with wand tracking, discreetly as it would cause an uproar. I don't have anything to confirm that but after the attacks a few years ago in New York and other events I wouldn't be surprised." She hovered her eyes around the room, heart thundering against her chest.
The Aurors glanced at each other wordlessly, then spoke to each other in low voices so that Rosalind couldn't hear. She looked over at Draco, who appeared to be listening in as well. Finally, Bowen turned his chair to face Rosalind, looking grim. "Thank you for the information Miss Morana, we will be discussion any action to take. You are dismissed."
Rosalind nodded, her feelings slightly hurt that she wasn't included in the discussion. She pursed her lips and let herself out with Draco. She sighed, feeling uneasy; she left her notes with Bowen and the Aurors to look over and now felt like she had nothing to do. Her watch ticked-it was almost time to go. She sat in her desk with her face in her hands, trying as hard as she could to keep the flood of sobs from coming up. She had never talked about her parents before, let alone how they died. Emma was right...it was all her fault.
An awkward, gentle hand rested on her shoulder. "Let's get out of here so you won't have to be around anyone anymore." Draco helped her stand as she was still shaking. "Hold my hand," he instructed. Rosalind complied, not even glancing at him.
They landed with a small thud in Draco's flat. He led Rosalind slowly onto his small couch. She was pale, unable to lift her eyes from the floor. She looked haunted. He fetched a mug and poured tea with honey into it, setting it with a tray of biscuits on the table in front of her.
"You look dreadful," he finally said.
"Thanks asshole."
"That's not what I meant," he retorted, biting his tongue at his comment. "I mean you don't look well emotionally." He sat on the other end of the couch, observing her. For the first time since they had met she looked frail: her body was hunched over, her eyes had a ghostly glaze, her breathing patterned between quick and panicked to slow and distant. She looked broken.
"Do you...want to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly.
For a second, she glanced up, her chest heaving whenever she took a breath. "I don't know what to tell you." Her voice was distant. She sounded years younger, scared and naive. "I've never talked about them before...my parents I mean. Saying the words out loud felt a lot different than I thought they would." She wiped her nose with her sweater, still holding in her sobs. "It was all my fault."
"What?" Draco almost shrieked. "Why would you say that? Your parents were murdered you couldn't have done anything to prevent it-"
"Yes I did," she sobbed, unable to control the tears streaming down her face. "They knew me...The men who killed them-they knew me from when I was down in El Salvador. They t-tracked me down because of what I d-did!" She buried her face into her hands. "They didn't care less that they killed my parents, that wasn't what they were going for!"
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." He tried to sound reassuring but didn't know how. Although the tea was scorching hot, Rosalind held it without a flinch. She sniffed, her chest still heaving slightly. She was muttering something to herself, looking half crazed.
It's all my fault. It's always been my fault.
"Draco I-" she began before setting the tea down. She held her knees to her face, burying herself in them. "I can't...I don't know what to do with myself." Her voice was still far and faint. She glanced up at him, her eyes bloodshot. "What if they find me again?"
"They won't, Rosalind," he said calmly, scooting a tad closer. "You're working for the Ministry now they'll take care of you." He Summoned a blanket, wrapping it around her to keep her from shivering. "Do you really think they'll come looking for you?"
She nodded slowly. "I did a lot of damage while I was down there."
"What do you mean? I thought you were aiding people?"
"We were but...but we were basically allowed to defend ourselves however we wanted. That included Unforgivable Curses." She sniffed again, holding back a sob.
"Were you tortured? Did they use Unforgivable Curses on you?" he asked concerned.
"No," she said frustread. "I used them. On a lot of people." She was avoiding his gaze, looking afraid.
Draco's face turned pale. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I was angry!" she exclaimed, slamming her fists, the tea splattering on them. "I was pissed off all the time and that's how I dealt with it, I hurt people!" She slammed her face into her knees again, sobbing hard. "I thought that if they were b-bad people then no one would miss them, that it was okay!"
"Rosalind that's in the past you can't do anything about it now, you've changed-"
"Have I?" she looked at Draco dead in the eyes. "I'm not so sure I have." She looked ashamed, the guilt written all over her face.
"It's not like you killed anyone right?" he asked nervously. "You just were going through a hard time and would hurt people every once in a while."
Rosalind eye's darted back to the ground. She was silent for a long moment. "I did. I have killed people."
Draco's heart started to beat loudly, his face turning pale. "How many?"
Rosalind laughed darkly, a salty tear oozing down her face. "I don't remember. I can't fucking remember." She shook her head slowly, looking ghastly. "I lost track a long time ago." She hung her head in shame, gripping her wrist tightly, leaving small nail marks. Her back and head were leaned against the couch, paralyzed.
"I was a sicario," she continued softly. "A hit man-we all had different roles and it turned out that's what I was best at. Being undercover, killing men who trafficked women and children and hurt them. Bad people who deserved what they got." She sniffed, snot syruping down her nose. "But at what point does that make me as bad as them?"
They were both silent. Draco was stunned, stomach queasy. Rosalind tried to read his face but it was frozen in shock. Or fear, maybe? The last thing she wanted was him to be afraid of her. She didn't need anyone else thinking she was a monster.
Her auburn eyes were bloodshot, stained with tears. "I'm not-I don't deserve this Draco...I don't deserve to be here. I don't deserve to be alive anymore."
"Don't say that," Draco said almost at a loss for words. "Don't you ever say that."
He could barely look at her: she was hiding her face again, crying quietly to herself. "I've h-hurt too many people!" she cried between sobs. "Everyone I've ever been close to, my friends, my family, everyone! They all end up dead or hurt because of me because I let it happen-"
"We can-you can change that!" Draco said forcefully. "That doesn't mean it's going to keep happening, you're in a much better place here." He reached out his hand to touch her but she jerked away so suddenly she fell off the couch and onto the floor, clutching the blanket to her chest.
"No I d-don't! I'm not a g-good person!" Her head was anchored towards the ground. "I'm worthless."
"Rosalind-"
She shook her head violently. "He was right." Her lips were parched, eyes hollow. She was no longer talking to Draco, she was speaking to herself. "He was right. I'm stupid...no one could ever care about me." She sniffed, wiping the mascara from her eyes. "I'm a terrible person."
"Who was right?" Draco asked gingerly. He tried to approach Rosalind more cautiously, but she backed herself into the corner. "Why would someone say that to you?"
"He always said that to me," she said so quietly it was almost inaudible. "He always told me that he was the only person that could take care of me but he m-made me do filthy things to him that I never w-wanted..."
"He took advantage of you," Draco said simply. "He used you and hurt you."
Rosalind nodded. "I didn't know how to get away from him. I was scared he'd hurt me."
"How'd you get away? Did you ever tell the police?" He was now a little closer to her, but still not within an arm's reach.
Rosalind was silent. She still wasn't looking at him, ashamed of her past. "I killed him."
She said it so simply, without remorse. "He was the first person I killed."
"I-I'm sorry." By now Draco had no idea what to say. "I'm sorry that happened."
"Don't be. I enjoyed it." She was finally looking directly at Draco, eyes bloodshot and stained of makeup. "I enjoyed killing people. I was good at it."
He took a step back, contemplating whether to draw his wand or not. Rosalind let out an exasperated, sobbing laugh. "See that's why I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to scare you away." She looked crazed, panicked and hurt. "I told you. I told you I'm not a good person. I'm just as bad as they are." Her chest started heaving and she looked as if she couldn't breathe; she grabbed onto the carpet, her arms and legs twitching uncontrollably. She was having a panic attack.
Draco dropped his wand, rushing to her side. He held her against his chest as she slowly calmed down. "It's alright, Rosalind." He found his lips brushing the top of her head. "It's alright. I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help."
The twitching slowed, and her breathing started to normalize. "You d-don't think I'm a monster?" she asked hesitantly.
Draco shook his head. "No I don't honestly. You've done some bloody fucked up things in the past but I can look past that." He caressed her, cupping her face so she would look at him. Rosalind resisted, snapping her eyes shut. "Look at me Rosalind," he demanded.
"I can't-I can't look at people when they're upset with me-"
"I'm not upset with you!" he growled, causing her to jump in terror. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to raise my voice," he scolded himself. He wasn't the best at cheering people up. "Rosalind look at me." He held her face, looking into her bloodshot eyes. "You're not a terrible person. You're not worthless. That bastard who put that in your head deserved what he got because he took advantage of you. You deserve so much better." His stomach ached seeing her expression. She didn't believe him. "I care about you, believe it or not." He was trying hard not to sound harsh. "You are smart and hard working you just refuse to see it. I wish you would see that," he pleaded, as she kept shaking her head in denial. "You've just been hurt so much that you let it haunt you."
"You're right," she whispered, wiping her nose. "I've been holding that in for so long I was sure I'd never actually talk about it."
"You've accepted me for who I am, and I accept you for who you used to be," he said, holding her tightly with one arm and peering into her eyes. "You've changed, as have I."
She blinked tears from her damp lashes, swollen from the salt. Their hearts began to beat in synch, the moment between them passing far longer than normal. Rosalind closed her eyes, and Draco brushed his lips ever so slowly into hers: her body was still tense, but she allowed Draco to take control and deepen the kiss. He wasn't rough and aggressive like he was the night of the Halloween party, but instead was much slower and sensual. He shifted her body gently into his lap, where she tightened her grip around his torso. Rosalind shivered as he kissed her neck; he lowered her onto the floor, his pelvis on top of hers. They stopped for a second, as Draco moved a long curl from Rosalind's face.
"I care about you a lot," he whispered, their breathing ragged.
She hesitated before she spoke, looking guilt ridden. "I care about you too."
He stared into her eyes once more, feeling her pain and suffering and how similar it was to his. "I know you do," he finally said.
Rosalind was able to let out a half smile. She fumbled around her pockets, feeling an odd burning sensation. "Oh no my Galleon is going off," she said as she pulled out the large gold coin from her robes. Minuscule writing was etching around the edges. "There's a meeting tonight for the order at seven." She glanced at the clock. It was half past six. "I better get going," she said nervously. She was still on the floor facing Draco.
His face suddenly annoyed. "Going to see your boyfriend, are you?" he sounded angry.
"He's not my boyfriend," she said stung, gathering her clothes and making her way over to the couch.
"Right. Just a friend who you snog."
She glared at him. "What's wrong? Just a minute ago you seemed fine-"
"Yeah well just a minute ago we were having a moment and seemed to enjoy it," he retorted.
"I was!If I wasn't I wouldn't have kissed you back!" She looked like she was on the verge of tears again.
Draco sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his platinum locks. "I apologize. I'm not any good at this. Just forget I said anything."
"Draco I-"
"Just forget it, Rosalind."
His jaw was clenched and he was avoiding her gaze. She stared at him for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.
"I just wanted to say thank you," she said hesitantly. "For today I mean...you didn't have to do all that. I really appreciate it, I've never talked about all of that before."
He nodded slowly, still staring over her head. "That's what friends are for right?" He cocked his head to the side, facing his back towards her.
"Right." Her heart tugged, strangely feeling empty. "That's what friends are for."
Draco stood to his full height. "See you later Morana," he said flatly.
Rosalind tried to muster a small smile but faltered. "Bye Malfoy." With a faint pop she Apparated back into her own apartment, the guilt quickly rushing in: she had feelings for George there was no doubt about that, and she knew she cared about him. But she couldn't deny it anymore-she was starting to feel something for Draco, although she wasn't quite sure what it was.
Uh oh, Rosalind is starting to feel conflicted! So obviously her and Draco have a clear connection and get along well for the most part, but she also has a semi-relationship with George. Her past is something that is very difficult to talk about and Draco seems to understand that. There will be a lot more action coming up soon, I promise! Thank you so so much to anyone that has been reading! Next chapter will deal with the meeting at the Burrow with the Order.
Next chapter: Adore You.
