Library
~~~~~
I cannot help but worry about Father. He must come after me soon. Will he know to look here? It's not exactly an unknown place of refuge.
But life goes on. I continue my private lessons, I assist in the menial work for preparing classes, or work in the cleaner's unit. Besides Harry, no student even knows I exist.
At lunchtime the library is virtually deserted, only a few students huddle over dusty tomes in an effort to catch up on study. I remain hidden, creeping behind shelves and staying in the shadows. In the darkness.
The library doesn't have very large fiction section, and most of what is available is above my reading level. But Professor McGonagall has encouraged me to try some more difficult texts.
My fingers trail along the spines of these novels, muggle and wizard books side by side. Watership Down, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Quidditch through the Ages - hold on. I know enough to know this book is on the wrong shelf. I pick it up with the intent to move it, before noticing that is very thin. I check inside, the words look simple enough. And I do have an interest in Quidditch - although I know nothing about it.
I find a secluded corner where a shelf meets the wall at an acute angle, with enough light to read by but where I will not be seen. And I sit on the ground and open my book, flicking through for a page that looks interesting. I pause when I see pictures, illustrations of various moves in Quidditch. Some words I do not understand, and I have to sound them out.
"W-ron-ski Feint," I whisper.
"Wonky Faint," a voice smiles near me. I jerk. No one is meant to know I'm here! Twisting my head around, I look for the girl who spoke. I am still mostly in shadow, I think she can see no more than my right arm and leg. I intend to keep things that way.
"My friends are obsessed with Quidditch," the girl moves closer, I can see her now. I shrink back. She looks concerned. Thick brown hair flows down her back, she carries several leather bound volumes in her arms. "Are you alright?" she asks, her voice soft and fine.
I stay silent. She has me trapped. Hopefully she will mistake my black robes for school robes. Then again, they are school robes, second hand ones McGonagall found for me.
"Why are you hiding? I can't see you."
Twice now. I've been caught twice now. Why can't I be like Dobby and just disappear when I need to?
She puts down the books and reaches for me.
Oh no.
If I struggle and make a scene then even more people will see me. With a silent curse, I give up, bowing my head as her hands take my shoulders and pull me out of the shadows.
"Malfoy!" she spits the name with venom and jumps back as if I burned her. I know I must look like my twin, with my hair pulled back to the nape of my neck, and my face hidden.
"What the hell are you doing here?" the girl, on her knees, moves away from me.
"I was reading."
She pauses. My voice is too high. I look up at her. Her brown eyes widen.
"Who are you?"
I have the feeling I will often be asked that question.
"Leila."
"Leila who?"
"Leila Malfoy."
"But Draco doesn't have a sister - "
"I was under the impression he did."
She glares. "I think your manners are enough evidence. I believe you."
"I'm sorry," I look at the floor again. The Malfoy in me rebels. I think I'm part elf.
"What?"
"I'm sorry I was rude." Years of knowing I am below everyone have twisted my values. The Malfoy disdain runs thick, but I swallow it.
"It's okay," the girl sounds confused. I confuse myself sometimes. "Um," she tries to back pedal. "What are you reading?"
"Quidditch through the Ages," it took me two minutes to wade through that title. Now it rolls off my tongue like I've been reading for years.
"Oh," she waves a hand at her books. "I'm catching up on potions homework. Uses for snake bone."
I eye the pile doubtfully. "There are that many uses for snake bone?"
She smiles. "You're not much like your brother. Not really."
I frown. "You hardly know me."
"I knew him five minutes before I'd made up my mind he was bad news." I frown. I know my twin is a fool who has little self control but that's not really his fault.
"I have to go." For some reason it's satisfying to see the girl scramble while I rise smoothly to my feet. "You probably won't see me again."
"Why not? What house are you in?"
"I'm not in any house. I'm a squib. Goodbye."
And that's it.
I never even asked her name.
~~~~~
I hate making these chapters so short. But it's easier to have one major event at a time, I think.
In case you're clueless that was Hermione in the library. :)