It was shocking to Eleanor how everything in her home was the same, and yet not the same at all. Draco watched his friend as she set down all of her things and simply stared at the house around her. He was unsure of what to do. Should he comfort her? Should he say something? Make a joke? Should he leave her be? He was so unsure of what she needed.
"I think I am going to need to get a dog." Eleanor finally let out. Draco knew that she wouldn't have said that if she didn't have that potion running through her veins. Eleanor, as brave as she was, was a very emotional person who felt things so deeply. Normal Eleanor would not be cracking jokes when she was faced with her empty house for the first time. "A bit lonely in here."
"You won't be lonely with us, though." Draco pointed out, reminding her that she was still living with the Malfoys. Eleanor let out a laugh.
"You really thought I was serious when I promised your father I would live with you?" Eleanor chuckled a bit. "You seem to have lost all faith in me, Draco."
Draco was confused and worried for his friend, but smiled at her cunning mind and inability to lose an argument. She was a Gryffindor, but she was raised by Slytherins and it showed.
"They won't let that happen, you know. They will take you out of here kicking and screaming if they have to." Draco chuckled, grabbing her bags and heading for the stairs to take her things up to her room for her.
"They won't be able to get here." Eleanor cracked a smile. "Only you and I can set foot in this house now. Eventually Hermione and Ron and Harry too. The spells weren't lifted, but only my blood relatives can be here now unless granted explicit permission."
Draco was shocked. Eleanor had been toying with his parents and lying to get her way since the death of her own. He was impressed at this potion. Perhaps if Eleanor wasn't so heartfelt, and emotional then she would've found herself in Slytherin.
"You wouldn't honestly deny them access to the house, would you?" Draco asked, chuckling a bit as the pair walked up the stairs.
"If they were going to take me from my house, then I most certainly would." Eleanor replied quickly. "They can throw all the fits they want, they have no legal claim over me."
"Why are you doing this, Eleanor?" Draco finally asked. There it was. Her full name. She hated it when he used it. It felt like he was scolding her, she knew it meant he wasn't happy with her. It wasn't endearing, even when he would say it in an endearing voice, there would still be negative intentions behind it. His tone made Eleanor extremely cross and extremely defensive. "Doing what?" Eleanor asked as they entered the threshold of her room. She was always so happy to see her large bed and all of her pictures and knick knacks.
"Why aren't you letting us help you? We aren't trying to imprison you, we want to be there for you. My parents really love you. I know they can be cold, and they don't show their love very well. Believe me, I know that better than anyone, but you would be well taken care of. You wouldn't be lonely. Eleanor, let us help you." Draco set her bags down in the middle of her room, but Eleanor stood firmly in the doorway.
Eleanor wanted to yell at him for using her full name, but he didn't know that she hated it when he did that. That was also the biggest giveaway whenever Draco was angry or annoyed with her, and she didn't want to tell him what gave away his poker face. So she just huffed and looked at the floor. "I'm not doing it because I have anything against your family. I love your family, Draco, and you know I do. I just feel a loyalty to this house."
"What are you trying to prove by being here? That you're brave? That you're like your Gryffindor friends because you can isolate yourself from people?" Draco was getting defensive now too. He could tell that Eleanor was peeved, and he didn't like that, he couldn't help but think it was him who caused her to be that way. He didn't like thinking about anything that he did that would've put her in a bad mood, he didn't like thinking he caused it. But now he was defending himself because he was prideful, and because he could not lose an argument (just like her) and because he was so incredibly sad for her, but he didn't know how to portray that feeling without getting emotional so he just channeled it all into anger.
"What do you mean? You think I am trying to prove something?" Eleanor scoffed at her friend. "Maybe I just want to sleep in my own bed, in the room I grew up in. I know where everything is, I know it is safe here. I know that I can go down the hall and see their things whenever I want to. I know there are pictures of the three of us around every corner. Draco, I am happy here. This is my home."
"They aren't coming back, Eleanor. You can't just sit around and wait for them to come back." Draco finally let out.
Eleanor wanted to cry. She wished she wasn't so damn angry, or at least that she was more sad. She wanted to cry because Draco was right, that was part of the reason she was staying. She would never get used to being in the house alone. She could fool herself into thinking they were down the hall, or downstairs. It was a big house, she could fool herself into thinking they were just in a different rooms and their paths didn't cross. Life would be too different with the Malfoys. He had figured her out, he always did. And now her heart felt like it might burst in anger because not only was he challenging her, but he figured out the inner workings of her mind without her giving anything away.
"I know they aren't coming back, Draco. I know that they're dead. You don't need to remind me." Eleanor finally yelled. The pure fury coursing through her veins was only leading to the intense sadness she knew that she was going to begin feeling. "I'm not stupid. I know they're dead."
Draco always got a bit frightened when Eleanor was actually mad. Since he was little, her fury always made him shut up and put him in his place. They were both guilty of teasing each other, and being annoyed at one another, and Draco often pushed her buttons more than he should have, but her pure, unfiltered anger was what usually shut him up. Eleanor was a forgiving, kind and loving person. Her anger often took the form of sadness, or embarrassment. It took something nearly unforgivable to make Eleanor rage in the true sense of the word. So, he knew that this fury, and these yells were not sincere anger, but gut wrenching sadness masked as wrath. And he didn't know what to do.
"I never said you were stupid." Draco left out softly, trying to let go of his own defensive nature. It was hard for him to change the way he was and reacted to situations like this. But he knew that Eleanor needed him now. And she needed him to not be an ass.
Eleanor was slightly annoyed that she could not keep fighting with Draco, because as soon as his soft words filled the space between them, her hard heart crumpled and she began to feel depleted with overwhelming sorrow. "Draco, they are never coming back." Eleanor squeaked out, leaning against the doorframe for support as her eyes filled with tears. Draco panicked. He was unsure of what to do the moment she began to cry. He was not expecting this so soon. He thought she had a few more days of not feeling this awful pain.
Draco crossed the room to hug her. He was awkward and not sure if a hug is what she needed. She slid down the wall, her cries were not as violent as the were the night before, but somehow these were worse. These cries broke Draco's heart. These weren't sobs of initial shock. These were her real tears where she let out how she was really feeling. They came out in small, defeated whimpers. Draco could tell she was trying to hold it in, she was trying not to let herself feel this way. She would go a few seconds of holding her breath, but would fail and let it out in heartbroken blubbers. Draco sat there and held her silently.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there as she cried. She eventually let out shuddering breaths and began wiping her own eyes with the sleeves of her 'E' jumper. Once she had no more tears, she finally looked at Draco.
"Thank you." She breathed out. Draco noticed how she didn't look as bad as she did last night. Yes, her eye was still filled with blood on one side from the night before, and her eyes were swollen from the cry she just had now, but she wasn't as gross and un-Eleanor-like as she had been the last time. Draco was grateful for that. He was having a hard enough time dealing with an emotional Eleanor, he wasn't sure that he could handle and incoherent one on top of it. "I'm sorry." Eleanor finally sighed, standing up, and removing herself from Draco's arms.
"What are you sorry for?" Draco wondered, watching Eleanor curiously as she went into her bathroom and came out wiping her eyes with a tissue.
"I know that helping people with emotional things is hard for you." Eleanor shrugged. "I know that you feel like you don't know how to help and it makes you feel awkward. I shouldn't have put you in that position."
Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. "El, do you hear yourself? Stop thinking of other people and for once just think about yourself." His voice was firm because he really meant what he was saying, but he wasn't angry. "I don't care if you put me in an awkward position by crying in front of me. I put you through hell and you still make it very clear that you would do anything for me. Stop thinking about me, stop thinking about the comfort of others and do what you need to do." Draco told her. Eleanor smiled at him a little. She liked when Draco could be honest with her. He hardly ever told anyone anything about what he was feeling, so she was appreciative when she got to hear his honest, unfiltered thoughts. Even if she didn't necessarily agree with him.
"Well, then thank you." Eleanor said with a watery smile.
Draco wanted to tell her off again for thanking him too much, when in reality he felt that he did very little for her, but he decided to just accept it. "Are you hungry?" Draco finally asked. Eleanor nodded weakly and the two walked out of her room down to the kitchens. Draco was a bit out of his element, he had never cooked anything in his life, and only ever went into his kitchen at home to eat whatever had already been made. Eleanor, however, loved to cook.
Draco tried to make her laugh as he sat on the counters and she made pasta. Draco could tell that brave Eleanor was trying to put on a face that she was fine, but they both knew that the damned potion had worn off and that Eleanor was currently a shell of who she usually was.
"You would be a rubbish chef." Draco finally told her as she sliced vegetables, trying to tease her to lighten the mood. He wanted things to be like they used to be. He couldn't stand seeing her sad.
"What do you mean?" Eleanor said with a half laugh, shocked that he would say such a thing.
"Your technique is simply awful." He gestured to the knife in her hands. "I am just waiting for you to cut off a finger."
Eleanor rolled her eyes at Draco. "Would you like to try it then?" She challenged.
"Oh, absolutely not." Draco threw up his hands. "Just offering you critiques."
"Do you want to eat tonight, or not?" Eleanor inquired, arching her brow at him as she continued cutting.
"Not if there is a finger in whatever you serve me." Draco replied cheekily. "Watch what you're doing, for Merlin's sake, El!" He laughed, but was genuinely worried that Eleanor would, in fact, cut off her own finger. Eleanor offered a half smile and returned her eyes to the knife. Draco felt somewhat panicked now. He was really trying to make things normal. He wanted to make things easier for her. "Where'd you learn to cook anyway?" Draco asked, taking one of the vegetables from the cutting board and eating it.
"Hey, I needed that." Eleanor scolded, her voice rose in an almost laugh-like manner. This gave Draco a glimmer of hope.
"Do you want it back?" He questioned. Eleanor scrunched up her nose in disgust at the thought. Draco chuckled at her, but did not press it any further. He was still cautious and testing the waters of what he could and could not say.
So Draco just watched as Eleanor silently moved about the kitchen, add vegetables and spices and draining one pot while fill another and stirring. She didn't cry, but she looked like she wanted to a few times. Draco was utterly confused by her. He was afraid that after the potion wore off she would be the way he found her last night, but she was the same brave El that he had grown up with. She shielded herself, and Draco couldn't understand why she wouldn't let anyone in.
She had surprised him earlier that day. He had never known Eleanor to be able to twist her words and shield the truth like she had in the face of his parents. She would fight tooth and nail until she won, but she was always honest and straightforward. That was one of the biggest downfalls between her and him. They were both stubborn and prideful and determined to get their way, but they did things so differently that it usually caused a discourse. Eleanor hated when Draco tried to outwit someone or be underhanded when it came to getting his way. Eleanor preferred to lay all her cards on the table and prove she was in the right-which, as much as Draco hated to admit, she usually was.
A selfish part of him wished she was more like she was on that potion all of the time. Draco wished that he could have been able to see her as a Slytherin, grown up with her in his house. Things would be easier if that were the case. He would get to see her more, he wouldn't hate her friends. He wouldn't feel like every time he talked to her he was committing some kind of treason.
Once the timer went off for Eleanor's noodles, Draco hopped up, trying to be helpful. He carried the pot to the sink and poured the boiling water out, leaving the noodles in the strainer. Cooking was so foreign to him, and especially cooking without magic. Cooking without magic was different for Eleanor too, but she was alright with it. She liked manually doing things, it kept her muscles and mind busy.
Some of the boiling water splashed up onto Draco's arm, leaving a few red welts splattered about his forearm.
"Shit." He yelped out, dropping the pot into the sink and pressing his hand to his new burns.
"Oh, honestly Draco, you are an imbecile." Eleanor shook her head, but her face held a hint of a smile. "Run it under some cold water, we have a salve around here somewhere." Eleanor instructed as she left to investigate the medicine cabinet. She found the burn salve that her mother had bought a few months before in Diagon Alley. It came in handy quite often, as the Cordarris all loved to cook. "Okay, I got you some salve, and a wrap." Eleanor announced to Draco, who still had his arm under the cold water. "Let me see the damage."
Draco held his arm out. "It's not that bad." He rolled his eyes. "Just hurts a bit." But he winced when she dabbed the water off his arm with a towel. She eyed him in amusement.
Carefully, she put some of the salve on each of the welts on his arm, then carefully tied bandages around each one. She made sure she was never too rough with him. "Leave this on for an hour, and your arm should be as good as new." Eleanor smiled, patting his shoulder, and returning the supplies to the medicine cabinet.
Draco smiled after her. She was always taking care of people, always loving people, even when it was her who needed to be taken care of. Sometimes especially when it was her that needed to be taken care of.
Yes, perhaps if Eleanor wasn't so heartfelt then she would have grown up with Draco in Slytherin, but then she wouldn't have truly been Eleanor.
