Disclaimer: I disclaim any accusations that I am pretending to be JK
Rowling or to have made any of this up except the stuff that is obviously
made up (duh) or that I am making any form of profit in any other way than
intellectually. Thank you.
Some weeks later – it's nearly Halloween and life is as normal as it ever can be at Hogwarts…
1 Chapter5
"Pass the peas, please Harry."
Harry looked across the dinner table at Ron with mild confusion. "What do you want them for? You're not gonna throw them at the Slytherins again are you? Coz I'm still finding bits of Brussels' Sprouts in varying stages of decomposition in my clothes from the last food fight that you orchestrated."
"No," Ron said, looking witheringly at his friend, "I'm going to eat them."
A confused look again found itself on Harry's face.
"Blythe's new motto – 'eat green or go green'. She thinks I'm gonna get scurvy due to my unhealthy eating habits. She's put me on a nutritious new diet which involves the consumption of much green food and seeds."
"Bummer." Said Harry sympathetically. He supposed this was one reason to be grateful for his lack of girlfriend, but at the same time he was quite prepared to never eat another chocolate frog if it meant that he could wrap his arms around the curves of a feminine figure whenever the fancy took him.
Ron was happily tucking into his mound of peas and Harry was still pondering the wonders of the female of the species, when Hermione bounced over to where they were sitting. A broad and alarmingly smug grin flashed across her face and it took a moment for the laws of gravity to exert their authority over her cheerily buoyant body before she managed to sit down.
"What are you looking so chirpy about?" Asked Harry.
'Nothing. I'm just happy that it's Friday," Hermione said, before reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice. Harry looked at her for a moment, knowing that she only wore that smile when she had discovered something that nobody else had even thought of – usually something to do with the aeronautical powers of the Soarshrub. He quickly decided that he'd rather not know whatever it was that had made Hermione so cheery and, risking a lecture about not taking enough of an active interest in his studies, asked Ron what he wanted to do in Hogsmeade the next day.
Sensing that the conversation was not going the way she had planned, Hermione made an attempt to direct the talk back to herself.
"And," she said importantly, "I've discovered her weakness."
"Whose weakness?" Asked Harry through a mouthful of chips.
"Magical Morwenna." There was definitely a cynical hint to her tone as she spoke the name. "She may be perfect in potions and terrific at transfiguration, but she's utter bollocks at arithmancy." She now looked decidedly like the cat that had got both the cream and a big shiny fish.
Ron and Harry simultaneously thought to themselves, 'who cares?', but they knew how much being top of the class meant to Hermione and felt that there was no escape but to partake in the conversation.
"I don't believe you," Ron said, at the same time remembering why he hated peas so much and reaching for Harry's chips, "even I'm not totally crap in arithmancy and she can't be as bad as me."
"Well she's obviously not as bad as you, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes. "But she's still pretty pants and had to get Professor Vector to help her."
"Maybe she's just got other things on her mind. She still looks really depressed and arithmancy's not exactly the most invigorating of subjects, is it?" Harry said, ever defiant of any claims that Morwenna is anything other than perfect. The three of them looked down the table to where Morwenna was sitting, chatting aimlessly with Neville who seemed enraptured by every word she said.
"I still think she's evil. Look at her thinking away quietly to herself. What's she thinking about?" asked Ron. "I bet she's forming a dastardly plot to take over the world, with that slithering little snake Malfoy as her monkey-boy and Neville as her loyal puppy-dog."
"No one who smells as good as her can be evil," Harry said. Hermione pretended she hadn't heard him.
"Whatever, Ron. She's not evil; she's just depressed. Sometimes I see her in lessons and stuff just staring into space, like she's got the whole world on her shoulders. I feel really sorry for her," she said.
"I'd feel sorry for anyone with Neville and Malfoy as their only friends," Harry said with a laugh.
"Don't forget Parvarti and Lavender." Ron chimed in.
"I'd still like to know what's wrong though. I feel like I should help her, she looks like she really needs a hug." Hermione said thoughtfully. In her mind she decided to go to Professor Dumbledore to ask if there was anything she could do for Morwenna to make her feel better. She knew the likelihood that he'd tell her anything useful was extremely low, but she thought it was her duty as head girl to keep the wellbeing of her fellow students as her priority and felt that the least she could do was ask. Plus she was very, very curious to see what made the girl who seemed to have everything quite so depressed.
***
Later that evening, Ron, Hermione and Harry made their way down to Hagrid's cabin for a chat with their favourite gamekeeper and to have their weekly competition of seeing who could eat a whole one of Hagrid's famous rock cakes first without choking.
When they arrived, Harry hammered on the door for a while before they decided that Hagrid must be out and were just turning to go back to the castle when a deep but pathetic voice came from within, telling them the door was unlocked. They peered in to see a very glum looking Hagrid, sitting on his bed, clutching a hot water bottle and a large bar of chocolate.
The little hut was stiflingly hot, a fierce fire burned in the corner despite the unusually warm October breeze that drifted past the closed windows.
"You alright Hagrid, you look a bit depressed." Asked Hermione in the most sympathetic voice she could muster.
"Yeah, I'm fine – jus' feelin' a bit…blue." Hagrid replied, making a clear effort to sound cheerful. "I baked some cakes to cheer meself up, but they're not very good. I don' seem to be able to do anything righ' today. Try one and see."
Ron, Hermione and Harry turned their heads to look at the innocent-looking pile of cupcakes on the wooden table and wondered how Hagrid's cooking could possibly get any worse. The three looked at each other nervously before slowly reaching for a cake each. Ron rummaged in the pile for a while, trying to find the smallest one, then, after a deep breath and closing their eyes, the three of them sunk they're teeth into what Harry thought might possibly be his last ever piece of food.
Three jaws cautiously moved up and down for a few moments while increasingly confused looks appeared on the faces of each student. Ron took another bite of his cake, this time with less trepidation, and he actually started to smile.
"Oh, don' laugh at me. I know I'm a failure, yeh don' have to rub it in." Hagrid moaned, and Ron, Harry and Hermione did the exact opposite to Hagrid's wishes and laughed even more.
"What's so funny?"
"This is the best chocolate cupcake I've had in years." Exclaimed Harry. Hagrid looked baffled.
"They're fantastic, Hagrid."
"Can I take some back to the boarding house?"
Hagrid looked even more depressed than he was before.
"Now you're jus' makin' fun o' me. Well I won' have it. If you're jus' goin' to come 'ere and tease me then you needn't come any more." He said huffily and looked in the other direction.
"Don't be silly, Hagrid. Why on earth would we want to make fun of you? These are truly scrumptious cakes and if you don't believe me then try one yourself." Said Hermione, setting a cake on Hagrid's large knee.
After trying a cake, then another, then one more for good luck, Hagrid agreed that they were possibly the best cakes ever in the history of the world and was quite cheered up by this thought. An hour after entering the cabin, the group of friends finally settled down with large mugs of hot tea and chatted about the week's events.
"Dr Dundridge set a wild Fwooper on us and we were all going mental until Morwenna turned it into a tin of tuna and put it back in it's soundproof cage," recounted Ron.
"That was the most exciting thing to happen all year in Defense. Dr Dundridge is so incredibly dull. His lessons are possibly more boring than History of Magic and he doesn't even let us sleep in class. How are we expected to learn if we can't have a little nap here and there?" complained Harry, whose enjoyment of Defense Against the Dark Arts had decidedly decreased after Professor Lupin left.
"Morwenna really shouldn't have done that. I mean, we'll never learn how to perform the silencing charm if we don't get to practice on the real thing. She should have left it to let others have a go." Hermione said.
"And then we'd all be in the loony bin by now coz no one can actually do the silencing charm yet, can they?" Said Ron. Hermione looked miffed for a moment, but then an idea struck her.
"It's true, she is very clever. But she's awfully depressed, have you noticed it, Hagrid?"
"Well you'd be depressed too, if you're Mum- …Now, wait a minute. I'm not as stupid as I look yeh know. Dumbledore told us not to talk about Morwenna and I'm not going to betray him. You'll just have to ask her yourself if yeh want to know what's up." After this Hagrid slipped back into his depressed meditations and the others thought they'd best leave him to it.
"Weird. I hope Hagrid's all right. He looked soooo depressed," said Hermione, looking truly concerned.
"Yeah. But I do hope this new found depression lasts long enough for him to do a spot more baking." Laughed Ron, despite his worries about Hagrid.
But Harry had another thing on his mind, and that was Morwenna. What had happened to her that was so horrible that the teachers weren't allowed to talk about it?
***
"And this is the Three Broomsticks. The most opulent establishment in Hogsmeade. You want a drink?" Asked Draco as he pushed open the dingy door.
"Yeah, I'm really thirsty. Who would've thought a tiny village like this held so many exciting and interesting opportunities for the common magical consumer to indulge their appetite for the purchase of inconsequential items." Said Morwenna in a distinctly mocking tone. She was in the best mood she'd been in for ages and was actually really enjoying her first trip to the town her mother had told her so much about.
"OK, so it's not Paris. But you have to agree, it does have something of a rustic charm about it. Two butterbeers please."
"Oi! How do you know I want a butterbeer?"
"I always know what my women want."
Morwenna stifled a snigger. "You wouldn't know the first thing about women."
"You'd be surprised, sweetlips," Draco replied with an attempt at a flirty waggle of his left eyebrow. At this, Morwenna snorted and almost choked on a mouthful of butterbeer as she burst out laughing. She fell into a fit of hysterics as some beer fizzed and tickled its way up her nose and almost keeled over onto the floor with her hand clamped to her mouth to prevent her from spraying warm beer all over Draco.
It took her several minutes to recover herself, all this time Draco sat opposite her, calmly watching with an amused smile on his smug face.
"Have you quite finished?" he asked as she sat back up in her seat and tried to rearrange her face into a vaguely normal expression. She took a deep breath and smiled her dazzling smile.
"Yes, I'm fine. I hate when that happens, don't you?"
"It never happens."
"Oh. How sad."
"Hmmm. May I ask what was quite so amusing?"
"Draco Malfoy: international man of mystery. No women is safe from his irresistible charms," Morwenna replied in the cheesy voice of a commercial voiceover.
"Shut up, I'm charming," Draco said defensively.
"Yeah, hon. Sorry. The hoards of girls constantly clamoring for your attention must have just escaped my notice," said Morwenna in feigned apology.
"You're just jealous of my dashing good looks."
"Yeah, that's it."
Draco decided it was definitely time to change the subject – his lack of girlfriend had been bothering him recently and he didn't need to be reminded of it by some dappy Gryffindor. He just didn't understand why someone as rich, powerful and good-looking as him didn't even have a whiff of a girlfriend.
"So, Morwenna, tell me about you."
Morwenna paused for a second before deciding how to reply. Eventually she thought that evasive action was required. "Well, first of all, most people just call my Mo. Morwenna's too much of a mouthful."
"OK, Mo, I've known you for, what, a month now? And I still don't know the first thing about you. I don't even know why you're here all of a sudden. So spill."
"Well I don't know you either. I'm not going to just pour my heart out to, rumour has it, a manic fanatic of the dark arts."
"So you want to know about me? OK, there's not much to tell. I grew up with my parents in our manor in Buckinghamshire then I came to Hogwarts and haven't done much since. I'm very dull really," Draco said flippantly, equally as unwilling to talk about his past and his family.
But something about Mo's open face and deep eyes made him want to tell her everything. All the hurt and pain of his childhood. Ever since he could remember he'd wished there was someone he could talk to, someone who's eyes would pity him instead of look at him like he was the embodiment of pure evil.
He sighed and took a long draught of beer before embarking upon the long and not entirely uplifting story of his life.
"My Mum and Dad got married, as most people back then did, to keep money and pure magical blood in the family, their one aim was to produce an heir. As you can see, they succeeded. They'd barely even met before they got married and when they did get married, they found that they were both as corrupt and emotionally empty as each other. Father brought me up to believe that the only way to gain power was to take it, and the only way to gain respect was to force it upon other people. Mother treated father and I like kings. Together they made me think that the world was mine, that all others were inferior and that we'd all be better off if Lord Voldemort were still in power.
"When I got to Hogwarts I was ready to be adored. Of course I didn't count on Harry Potter getting there first," for a moment he paused, scratching the sticky table top with his chewed thumbnail. The familiar twist of hate sparked in his eyes before he looked back at Mo.
"What's a guy supposed to do in competition with someone who saved to world when he was one year old? That's why I hate him, you know? Somehow, this scruffy loser, his poverty-stricken side-kick and mudblood girlfriend are still more popular than me."
Draco looked at his drink for a moment before draining the last dregs of the glass and gazing out the window.
"So. I see why you don't like the guy - that's obvious. But are you really some kind of mental death eater?"
Draco sighed again and slowly looked into Mo's eyes. He trusted her, and for a bizarre moment it felt like he was telling her things she already knew, as if he was five years old and admitting to a teacher that he'd lied, even though the teacher knew the truth all along.
"Nah. I'm not evil. I just feel like the only way I can avoid completely disappearing, is to be like the total opposite of Harry. People in Slytherin respect me because they think I'm in league with You-Know-Who. But the truth is that- … I don't know… maybe I'm scared," he paused to look at Mo's face and she wore the same expression as a psychiatrist dealing with a loony.
'Why the hell did I tell her that, I must've sounded like a total loser,' he asked himself when she went to fetch another couple of drinks. Since he was a baby he'd learnt to keep his feelings tightly locked inside his head and this goody-goody witch had weasled it all out of him. 'How can I look her in the ey when she comes back?'
"Oh don't look at me like that, Draco," Mo said with a roll of her eyes, "I won't tell anyone and, in case you're worried, I don't feel sorry for you. You and me are pretty similar, you know? But I would never have the guts to say what you just said. Now drink up. We've got to be back at the castle by seven for dinner."
"Hey, you're not getting off that easily. You still haven't told me anything about you. I feel that I'm now owed something after my award- winningly sentimental speech."
"OK, OK. But I really can't tell you everything coz I don't even understand it all. I grew up all over the world. My mum and I just travelled everywhere to get away from Voldemort and all the crap that was going on here. For as far back as we can trace out family, the women have been travellers. Wandering here, there and everywhere, never staying for long enough to feel at home, never making real friends. Mum used to say that the blood of a thousand races runs in my veins. There has never been a boy born into our family and we ditch any man that gets too close. For centuries we were persecuted for being gypsy witches, the epitome of male muggle fears."
"So where's your mother now?"
"She died. And because I have no other family, I came here. She used to go to school here and I just wanted to see what it was like, to meet people who knew her and see the things she always used to tell me about. So I'm pretty alone. Just like you, I guess."
Before Draco could reply, Morwenna looked around the bar and groaned. "Oh here we go again. More sympathetic and querulous looks from the Brady Bunch," she said.
"The who? What are you waffling about, crazy lady?" Draco also looked around the bar, it was crowded but there were only a few faces that he recognized and not one of them was giving him a sympathetic look. He began to turn back to Morwenna when the door opened and a stream of cold air rushed across his face. Through the door came the well-known giggle of a mousy-haired genius, a lanky, red-haired idiot and a raven-headed hero. Each of them saw Draco first, their sweet little faces fell and they looked with malice in his direction. It was only too easy for him to do the same. They then noticed Morwenna and, as she had predicted, gave her a curious and sympathetic look. She rolled her eyes again as Draco turned back to face her, a confused expression furrowing his brow.
"How did you know they were coming?" Draco began to ask, but before he finished the question, Mo cleared her throat loudly and got up to leave.
"Come on, we don't wanna be late for dinner," she said briskly and walked out of the crowded bar.
On the other side of the room, Ron, Harry and Hermione were settling in for a quick drink before returning to the castle. Harry and Ron were moaning about how Draco persisted in lurking like a bad smell in sociable places when he had no right to do so as there was not a sociable bone in his body. But Hermione's thoughts were through the door and on the road back to Hogwarts with Draco and Morwenna. It had to be just her imagination, but the way Morwenna looked at Draco when they came in – as if she felt sorry for him. How can anyone feel sorry for Draco Malfoy? He's evil. Surely.
A/n: Oooopps, sorry about how long this took and the Dawson's Creek stylee emotional confessions that are totally out of character. But I hope you enjoyed it anyway….I promise something will actually happen some time in this story. Some time…
Some weeks later – it's nearly Halloween and life is as normal as it ever can be at Hogwarts…
1 Chapter5
"Pass the peas, please Harry."
Harry looked across the dinner table at Ron with mild confusion. "What do you want them for? You're not gonna throw them at the Slytherins again are you? Coz I'm still finding bits of Brussels' Sprouts in varying stages of decomposition in my clothes from the last food fight that you orchestrated."
"No," Ron said, looking witheringly at his friend, "I'm going to eat them."
A confused look again found itself on Harry's face.
"Blythe's new motto – 'eat green or go green'. She thinks I'm gonna get scurvy due to my unhealthy eating habits. She's put me on a nutritious new diet which involves the consumption of much green food and seeds."
"Bummer." Said Harry sympathetically. He supposed this was one reason to be grateful for his lack of girlfriend, but at the same time he was quite prepared to never eat another chocolate frog if it meant that he could wrap his arms around the curves of a feminine figure whenever the fancy took him.
Ron was happily tucking into his mound of peas and Harry was still pondering the wonders of the female of the species, when Hermione bounced over to where they were sitting. A broad and alarmingly smug grin flashed across her face and it took a moment for the laws of gravity to exert their authority over her cheerily buoyant body before she managed to sit down.
"What are you looking so chirpy about?" Asked Harry.
'Nothing. I'm just happy that it's Friday," Hermione said, before reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice. Harry looked at her for a moment, knowing that she only wore that smile when she had discovered something that nobody else had even thought of – usually something to do with the aeronautical powers of the Soarshrub. He quickly decided that he'd rather not know whatever it was that had made Hermione so cheery and, risking a lecture about not taking enough of an active interest in his studies, asked Ron what he wanted to do in Hogsmeade the next day.
Sensing that the conversation was not going the way she had planned, Hermione made an attempt to direct the talk back to herself.
"And," she said importantly, "I've discovered her weakness."
"Whose weakness?" Asked Harry through a mouthful of chips.
"Magical Morwenna." There was definitely a cynical hint to her tone as she spoke the name. "She may be perfect in potions and terrific at transfiguration, but she's utter bollocks at arithmancy." She now looked decidedly like the cat that had got both the cream and a big shiny fish.
Ron and Harry simultaneously thought to themselves, 'who cares?', but they knew how much being top of the class meant to Hermione and felt that there was no escape but to partake in the conversation.
"I don't believe you," Ron said, at the same time remembering why he hated peas so much and reaching for Harry's chips, "even I'm not totally crap in arithmancy and she can't be as bad as me."
"Well she's obviously not as bad as you, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes. "But she's still pretty pants and had to get Professor Vector to help her."
"Maybe she's just got other things on her mind. She still looks really depressed and arithmancy's not exactly the most invigorating of subjects, is it?" Harry said, ever defiant of any claims that Morwenna is anything other than perfect. The three of them looked down the table to where Morwenna was sitting, chatting aimlessly with Neville who seemed enraptured by every word she said.
"I still think she's evil. Look at her thinking away quietly to herself. What's she thinking about?" asked Ron. "I bet she's forming a dastardly plot to take over the world, with that slithering little snake Malfoy as her monkey-boy and Neville as her loyal puppy-dog."
"No one who smells as good as her can be evil," Harry said. Hermione pretended she hadn't heard him.
"Whatever, Ron. She's not evil; she's just depressed. Sometimes I see her in lessons and stuff just staring into space, like she's got the whole world on her shoulders. I feel really sorry for her," she said.
"I'd feel sorry for anyone with Neville and Malfoy as their only friends," Harry said with a laugh.
"Don't forget Parvarti and Lavender." Ron chimed in.
"I'd still like to know what's wrong though. I feel like I should help her, she looks like she really needs a hug." Hermione said thoughtfully. In her mind she decided to go to Professor Dumbledore to ask if there was anything she could do for Morwenna to make her feel better. She knew the likelihood that he'd tell her anything useful was extremely low, but she thought it was her duty as head girl to keep the wellbeing of her fellow students as her priority and felt that the least she could do was ask. Plus she was very, very curious to see what made the girl who seemed to have everything quite so depressed.
***
Later that evening, Ron, Hermione and Harry made their way down to Hagrid's cabin for a chat with their favourite gamekeeper and to have their weekly competition of seeing who could eat a whole one of Hagrid's famous rock cakes first without choking.
When they arrived, Harry hammered on the door for a while before they decided that Hagrid must be out and were just turning to go back to the castle when a deep but pathetic voice came from within, telling them the door was unlocked. They peered in to see a very glum looking Hagrid, sitting on his bed, clutching a hot water bottle and a large bar of chocolate.
The little hut was stiflingly hot, a fierce fire burned in the corner despite the unusually warm October breeze that drifted past the closed windows.
"You alright Hagrid, you look a bit depressed." Asked Hermione in the most sympathetic voice she could muster.
"Yeah, I'm fine – jus' feelin' a bit…blue." Hagrid replied, making a clear effort to sound cheerful. "I baked some cakes to cheer meself up, but they're not very good. I don' seem to be able to do anything righ' today. Try one and see."
Ron, Hermione and Harry turned their heads to look at the innocent-looking pile of cupcakes on the wooden table and wondered how Hagrid's cooking could possibly get any worse. The three looked at each other nervously before slowly reaching for a cake each. Ron rummaged in the pile for a while, trying to find the smallest one, then, after a deep breath and closing their eyes, the three of them sunk they're teeth into what Harry thought might possibly be his last ever piece of food.
Three jaws cautiously moved up and down for a few moments while increasingly confused looks appeared on the faces of each student. Ron took another bite of his cake, this time with less trepidation, and he actually started to smile.
"Oh, don' laugh at me. I know I'm a failure, yeh don' have to rub it in." Hagrid moaned, and Ron, Harry and Hermione did the exact opposite to Hagrid's wishes and laughed even more.
"What's so funny?"
"This is the best chocolate cupcake I've had in years." Exclaimed Harry. Hagrid looked baffled.
"They're fantastic, Hagrid."
"Can I take some back to the boarding house?"
Hagrid looked even more depressed than he was before.
"Now you're jus' makin' fun o' me. Well I won' have it. If you're jus' goin' to come 'ere and tease me then you needn't come any more." He said huffily and looked in the other direction.
"Don't be silly, Hagrid. Why on earth would we want to make fun of you? These are truly scrumptious cakes and if you don't believe me then try one yourself." Said Hermione, setting a cake on Hagrid's large knee.
After trying a cake, then another, then one more for good luck, Hagrid agreed that they were possibly the best cakes ever in the history of the world and was quite cheered up by this thought. An hour after entering the cabin, the group of friends finally settled down with large mugs of hot tea and chatted about the week's events.
"Dr Dundridge set a wild Fwooper on us and we were all going mental until Morwenna turned it into a tin of tuna and put it back in it's soundproof cage," recounted Ron.
"That was the most exciting thing to happen all year in Defense. Dr Dundridge is so incredibly dull. His lessons are possibly more boring than History of Magic and he doesn't even let us sleep in class. How are we expected to learn if we can't have a little nap here and there?" complained Harry, whose enjoyment of Defense Against the Dark Arts had decidedly decreased after Professor Lupin left.
"Morwenna really shouldn't have done that. I mean, we'll never learn how to perform the silencing charm if we don't get to practice on the real thing. She should have left it to let others have a go." Hermione said.
"And then we'd all be in the loony bin by now coz no one can actually do the silencing charm yet, can they?" Said Ron. Hermione looked miffed for a moment, but then an idea struck her.
"It's true, she is very clever. But she's awfully depressed, have you noticed it, Hagrid?"
"Well you'd be depressed too, if you're Mum- …Now, wait a minute. I'm not as stupid as I look yeh know. Dumbledore told us not to talk about Morwenna and I'm not going to betray him. You'll just have to ask her yourself if yeh want to know what's up." After this Hagrid slipped back into his depressed meditations and the others thought they'd best leave him to it.
"Weird. I hope Hagrid's all right. He looked soooo depressed," said Hermione, looking truly concerned.
"Yeah. But I do hope this new found depression lasts long enough for him to do a spot more baking." Laughed Ron, despite his worries about Hagrid.
But Harry had another thing on his mind, and that was Morwenna. What had happened to her that was so horrible that the teachers weren't allowed to talk about it?
***
"And this is the Three Broomsticks. The most opulent establishment in Hogsmeade. You want a drink?" Asked Draco as he pushed open the dingy door.
"Yeah, I'm really thirsty. Who would've thought a tiny village like this held so many exciting and interesting opportunities for the common magical consumer to indulge their appetite for the purchase of inconsequential items." Said Morwenna in a distinctly mocking tone. She was in the best mood she'd been in for ages and was actually really enjoying her first trip to the town her mother had told her so much about.
"OK, so it's not Paris. But you have to agree, it does have something of a rustic charm about it. Two butterbeers please."
"Oi! How do you know I want a butterbeer?"
"I always know what my women want."
Morwenna stifled a snigger. "You wouldn't know the first thing about women."
"You'd be surprised, sweetlips," Draco replied with an attempt at a flirty waggle of his left eyebrow. At this, Morwenna snorted and almost choked on a mouthful of butterbeer as she burst out laughing. She fell into a fit of hysterics as some beer fizzed and tickled its way up her nose and almost keeled over onto the floor with her hand clamped to her mouth to prevent her from spraying warm beer all over Draco.
It took her several minutes to recover herself, all this time Draco sat opposite her, calmly watching with an amused smile on his smug face.
"Have you quite finished?" he asked as she sat back up in her seat and tried to rearrange her face into a vaguely normal expression. She took a deep breath and smiled her dazzling smile.
"Yes, I'm fine. I hate when that happens, don't you?"
"It never happens."
"Oh. How sad."
"Hmmm. May I ask what was quite so amusing?"
"Draco Malfoy: international man of mystery. No women is safe from his irresistible charms," Morwenna replied in the cheesy voice of a commercial voiceover.
"Shut up, I'm charming," Draco said defensively.
"Yeah, hon. Sorry. The hoards of girls constantly clamoring for your attention must have just escaped my notice," said Morwenna in feigned apology.
"You're just jealous of my dashing good looks."
"Yeah, that's it."
Draco decided it was definitely time to change the subject – his lack of girlfriend had been bothering him recently and he didn't need to be reminded of it by some dappy Gryffindor. He just didn't understand why someone as rich, powerful and good-looking as him didn't even have a whiff of a girlfriend.
"So, Morwenna, tell me about you."
Morwenna paused for a second before deciding how to reply. Eventually she thought that evasive action was required. "Well, first of all, most people just call my Mo. Morwenna's too much of a mouthful."
"OK, Mo, I've known you for, what, a month now? And I still don't know the first thing about you. I don't even know why you're here all of a sudden. So spill."
"Well I don't know you either. I'm not going to just pour my heart out to, rumour has it, a manic fanatic of the dark arts."
"So you want to know about me? OK, there's not much to tell. I grew up with my parents in our manor in Buckinghamshire then I came to Hogwarts and haven't done much since. I'm very dull really," Draco said flippantly, equally as unwilling to talk about his past and his family.
But something about Mo's open face and deep eyes made him want to tell her everything. All the hurt and pain of his childhood. Ever since he could remember he'd wished there was someone he could talk to, someone who's eyes would pity him instead of look at him like he was the embodiment of pure evil.
He sighed and took a long draught of beer before embarking upon the long and not entirely uplifting story of his life.
"My Mum and Dad got married, as most people back then did, to keep money and pure magical blood in the family, their one aim was to produce an heir. As you can see, they succeeded. They'd barely even met before they got married and when they did get married, they found that they were both as corrupt and emotionally empty as each other. Father brought me up to believe that the only way to gain power was to take it, and the only way to gain respect was to force it upon other people. Mother treated father and I like kings. Together they made me think that the world was mine, that all others were inferior and that we'd all be better off if Lord Voldemort were still in power.
"When I got to Hogwarts I was ready to be adored. Of course I didn't count on Harry Potter getting there first," for a moment he paused, scratching the sticky table top with his chewed thumbnail. The familiar twist of hate sparked in his eyes before he looked back at Mo.
"What's a guy supposed to do in competition with someone who saved to world when he was one year old? That's why I hate him, you know? Somehow, this scruffy loser, his poverty-stricken side-kick and mudblood girlfriend are still more popular than me."
Draco looked at his drink for a moment before draining the last dregs of the glass and gazing out the window.
"So. I see why you don't like the guy - that's obvious. But are you really some kind of mental death eater?"
Draco sighed again and slowly looked into Mo's eyes. He trusted her, and for a bizarre moment it felt like he was telling her things she already knew, as if he was five years old and admitting to a teacher that he'd lied, even though the teacher knew the truth all along.
"Nah. I'm not evil. I just feel like the only way I can avoid completely disappearing, is to be like the total opposite of Harry. People in Slytherin respect me because they think I'm in league with You-Know-Who. But the truth is that- … I don't know… maybe I'm scared," he paused to look at Mo's face and she wore the same expression as a psychiatrist dealing with a loony.
'Why the hell did I tell her that, I must've sounded like a total loser,' he asked himself when she went to fetch another couple of drinks. Since he was a baby he'd learnt to keep his feelings tightly locked inside his head and this goody-goody witch had weasled it all out of him. 'How can I look her in the ey when she comes back?'
"Oh don't look at me like that, Draco," Mo said with a roll of her eyes, "I won't tell anyone and, in case you're worried, I don't feel sorry for you. You and me are pretty similar, you know? But I would never have the guts to say what you just said. Now drink up. We've got to be back at the castle by seven for dinner."
"Hey, you're not getting off that easily. You still haven't told me anything about you. I feel that I'm now owed something after my award- winningly sentimental speech."
"OK, OK. But I really can't tell you everything coz I don't even understand it all. I grew up all over the world. My mum and I just travelled everywhere to get away from Voldemort and all the crap that was going on here. For as far back as we can trace out family, the women have been travellers. Wandering here, there and everywhere, never staying for long enough to feel at home, never making real friends. Mum used to say that the blood of a thousand races runs in my veins. There has never been a boy born into our family and we ditch any man that gets too close. For centuries we were persecuted for being gypsy witches, the epitome of male muggle fears."
"So where's your mother now?"
"She died. And because I have no other family, I came here. She used to go to school here and I just wanted to see what it was like, to meet people who knew her and see the things she always used to tell me about. So I'm pretty alone. Just like you, I guess."
Before Draco could reply, Morwenna looked around the bar and groaned. "Oh here we go again. More sympathetic and querulous looks from the Brady Bunch," she said.
"The who? What are you waffling about, crazy lady?" Draco also looked around the bar, it was crowded but there were only a few faces that he recognized and not one of them was giving him a sympathetic look. He began to turn back to Morwenna when the door opened and a stream of cold air rushed across his face. Through the door came the well-known giggle of a mousy-haired genius, a lanky, red-haired idiot and a raven-headed hero. Each of them saw Draco first, their sweet little faces fell and they looked with malice in his direction. It was only too easy for him to do the same. They then noticed Morwenna and, as she had predicted, gave her a curious and sympathetic look. She rolled her eyes again as Draco turned back to face her, a confused expression furrowing his brow.
"How did you know they were coming?" Draco began to ask, but before he finished the question, Mo cleared her throat loudly and got up to leave.
"Come on, we don't wanna be late for dinner," she said briskly and walked out of the crowded bar.
On the other side of the room, Ron, Harry and Hermione were settling in for a quick drink before returning to the castle. Harry and Ron were moaning about how Draco persisted in lurking like a bad smell in sociable places when he had no right to do so as there was not a sociable bone in his body. But Hermione's thoughts were through the door and on the road back to Hogwarts with Draco and Morwenna. It had to be just her imagination, but the way Morwenna looked at Draco when they came in – as if she felt sorry for him. How can anyone feel sorry for Draco Malfoy? He's evil. Surely.
A/n: Oooopps, sorry about how long this took and the Dawson's Creek stylee emotional confessions that are totally out of character. But I hope you enjoyed it anyway….I promise something will actually happen some time in this story. Some time…