Chapter Six: Needed
Never before in its history had the hospital wing of Hogwart's been so full. Nearly two-dozen students had been brought up as a result of the fire. Draco was one of the unfortunate few who seemed to be critically hurt. Those students had been separated from the rest of the world by a strange rigging of mismatched curtains, which the nurses were constantly pulling aside and closing as they tended the worst patients.
Ron and Hermione had managed to escape with only a slight cough and minor burns, respectively. Still, Madam Pomfrey insisted that she inspect them thoroughly before allowing Harry and Alysia to come and talk to them. When she'd finally finished her twelve-points inspection, Harry and Alysia stumbled over themselves to sit on the edges of Ron and Hermione's beds and hear exactly what happened that night at supper.
"It was a minotaur," Hermione announced.
"A minotaur? That's impossible! There was only one minotaur ever in existence, and that was ages ago in Greece!" Alysia protested, but Hermione shook her head.
"There was nothing else it could have been. It was as tall as Hagrid with a man's body and a bull's head. It was snorting and glaring at us all, knocking people's chairs over, pushing people down. Dumbledore was calm as could be, and asked the minotaur what he wanted. . ." Hermione explained and Ron interrupted her.
"It got all mad and said, 'Where's Harry Potter?' When Dumbledore wouldn't tell him, the minotaur got all furious and breathed fire on the tables. They all caught fire really quickly," he recalled aloud. "Most of us jumped out of the way, but a few of us seemed too scared to move." He fixed his gaze on Hermione who blushed through the soot that stained her cheeks.
"I guess. . .I guess I was too much in shock to do much of anything. If Ron hadn't pulled me away from the table. . ." she trailed off and looked in the direction of the critical patients. One of them seemed to have woken up and was screaming as the nurses applied burn cream to his wounds. Alysia shuddered.
"So this is my fault," Harry stated, seeming afraid of the thought. "This all happened because of me."
"Well. . .not entirely," Ron admitted. Hermione sent him a glance, but he kept talking. "The minotaur was looking for you, too, Alysia."
"Me!" Alysia exclaimed, whether from shock or fright she was uncertain. "What makes you say that?"
"It asked about the falcon girl," Hermione explained. "Why are they looking for you, too?"
"The same reason they're looking for my father, I suppose," Alysia answered in a low voice. "Voldemort has always considered us a threat to his cause. As much as the Potters, I guess."
Ron shook his head. "It's crazy, the way I seem to make friends with the unluckiest people," he muttered. "Anyway, Alysia, that's not all."
"Draco went chasing after the minotaur after it set the place on fire. I guess he figured he would stop it from trying to find you or something. The minotaur threw him against a wall, then tore down the banner from over the doorway and caught that on fire, too. Then, it was gone." Hermione looked over at the curtains. "He looked like he'd gotten hurt pretty badly."
Alysia was silent from that point on. Harry, Ron and Hermione were telling and retelling the story, trying to analyze who or what was behind it, but she just kept looking back over at the curtains. Once in a while, a nurse would come rushing out or go flying in, bearing whatever magical cures they could find to help the people behind the curtain. Eventually the flow of nurses in and out of the curtained area slowed to a trickle then stopped altogether. The patients were slowly moved to their own individual curtained off area as the night continued. Madam Pomfrey grew sick of seeing Harry and Alysia with her patients and shooed them out into the hallway where Anaral was waiting.
"Thank goodness you two are alright! Madam Pomfrey said you were both in here. . .it's almost one o'clock in the morning! Come on, we're all wanted in Dumbledore's office." Anaral always talked quickly when she was upset or nervous about something, and tonight was no exception. She hurried Harry and Alysia down the hall and past the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. Sirius was already there, in his human form, looking grave, as was Professor Snape. Dumbledore sat at his desk, stroking Fawkes the Phoenix. Everyone looked very somber. Sirius jumped out of his chair upon seeing Alysia and Harry and ran to them. He hugged Alysia as tightly as he could, causing a memory to resurface of the day they'd been reunited three years before.
"I heard about the fire and I thought the worst!" he exclaimed, kissing the top of her head. "Thank goodness you're alright."
Alysia had always underestimated the affect her father's hugs had on her. Usually, she shied away from them, but once he'd hugged her tightly, she got the distinct impression that the world would soon right itself, no matter what was wrong. That night was no exception. As her father went on to hug Harry, Alysia knew that somehow, things would come out right in the end.
Sirius had by now finished hugging Harry and had turned to Dumbledore. "My children are being stalked by multi-special creatures. What are you going to do about it?"
Dumbledore seemed not to hear him, but continued stroking Fawkes thoughtfully. Everyone stared at him, wondering what the old wizard was thinking. Finally, he looked back at Sirius and said, "I am going to do nothing."
"Nothing?!" Usually Anaral Karadhras was quiet and very much able to keep her emotions under control, but Dumbledore stating that he would do nothing to prevent her children from being killed was too much to bear. "How can you do nothing? It's been only a week between attacks and you're proposing to do nothing?!"
"Nothing, Anaral, until we get to the bottom of these attacks. I do not wish to act rashly and put Harry and Alysia in more danger. Severus, I trust, is keeping a close eye on the inside?" He raised his eyebrows at Snape, who nodded curtly. "Good. Then I shall do nothing. I will ask something of Harry and Alysia, however." They looked at him curiously. "Never go anywhere alone or solely with one another. Make sure that you have someone else with you at all times."
They looked at each other, feeling that their lives had just become ever so much more boring. But how could they argue with the headmaster? They nodded.
"Very well. Alysia, I would like to speak to you alone for a moment. The rest of you may go," Professor Dumbledore announced. Alysia had a feeling she knew what he was going to speak to her about. But to her surprise, she was quite wrong. As everyone left the room, Dumbledore looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.
"It seems to me, Miss Karadhras, that you have developed quite a friendship with Mr. Draco Malfoy." If Dumbledore had revealed himself as Voldemort's secret agent inside the school, Alysia would have been less surprised. As it was, she simply stared at him in complete shock. "Are the rumors true?"
"I. . .I guess so. We had a sort of. . .well, falling out you might say, but. . ." Alysia stammered, not quite sure how to respond to the question.
"I'm glad to hear it," Dumbledore responded with a bright smile. "Alysia, you are the type of person who would have a wonderful influence on someone like him. I've been very concerned for him for several years now." Alysia cocked her head at him, confusedly. "His father has a great deal of influence on him, I'm afraid, and could conceivably convince him to join Voldemort when he is old enough."
"Old enough?" Alysia asked, but Dumbledore put up a hand. Clearly, this was no time for questions.
"No matter what, Alysia, stick by him. He needs your kind of strong friendship." Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "It may save him from a fate worse than death."
Alysia had some idea what Dumbledore was talking about, but decided not to pursue the matter. Instead, she stood and left the office, walking slowly back to the hospital wing and sneaking more quietly than a mouse back through the door. At the far end was a set of curtains, parted slightly to reveal a boy lying on a cot, sleeping soundly, if not comfortably. Alysia, making sure no one was watching, sneaked through the curtains and sat on the stool next to Draco's bed. She sighed. How could someone so hard to like need her friendship so desperately? Could she possibly change him? After their argument on Wednesday, she doubted it, and yet something had still made him chase after that minotaur.
"Why?" she asked aloud. "I don't understand. Why me? You can't pretend that you would have gone after that thing to protect Harry or Hermione or even Crabbe or Goyle. What's so special about me? Is it because I'm pretty? If that's why, you should have a good look at me when I get up in the morning, before my hair is brushed and my face washed."
Alysia wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but she laughed. Then, she suddenly grew somber again. "If you knew who my father was, Draco Malfoy, you would never speak to me again. You probably think he's guilty as sin, or worse, that he's a threat to Voldemort. You'd be right on the second count, naturally. But my father never killed anyone. Never."
She folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window next to Draco's cot. "It's funny, isn't it, how our fathers were such rivals at school? I've never quite understood why, though. Then again, I never understand why there is anything bad in the world, when there is so much more good to be seen. Does it make any sense to you?"
Naturally, Draco didn't respond, and Alysia was beginning to feel a bit odd about her one-sided conversation with the nearly comatose patient. "I still don't understand it," she finally sighed, "why I'm the one who can influence you when no one else can. Why is it, Draco Malfoy?"
Throughout the remainder of the night, there was no response.
Somehow, Alysia thought as she began to wake up the next morning, my bed has gotten far too uncomfortable. It was then that she realized that she was not in a bed. She was still sitting on the chair in Draco's little chamber, her head resting next to his on the cot. And she was not alone. Staring at her with a pointed face and cold gray eyes was a man who could only be Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy. She drew in breath with a little gasp of shock.
"Alysia Karadhras. You look just like your mother. . .your father too, unfortunately," Lucius drawled, an unpleasant smile coming across his face. "And coming to visit my son. How fortunate he should perceive himself, to have the daughter of a convict and a former close friend by his bedside."
Alysia said nothing, not trusting the words that might come out of her mouth. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and looked listlessly at Draco, who was still unconscious. Finally, when her anger had subsided sufficiently, she asked in a low voice, "When did you get here?"
"Several hours ago. You look so much like your mother when you sleep. The same soft breaths, the same pallid skin. . ." he trailed off running a cold finger down her jaw line. "It is a sight I remember well."
Alysia felt bile rising to her throat. She stood abruptly to leave. "I suggest, Mr. Malfoy, that you leave my mother out of any further conversations you might have with me," she growled, but he caught her arm as reached the curtains.
"My son seems genuinely impressed with you, which is more than I can say about your mother. Hurt him, and you and your family will pay," Lucius threatened. Alysia wrenched her arm out of his grip.
"More than we already have because of you and your 'associates'? It isn't possible," she snapped and brushed out of the room. She could only hope that she, and not Mr. Malfoy, would be at Draco's bedside when he finally woke up. As it was, she ran into Madam Pomfrey on the way out the door.
"Have you been in there all night?" she gasped. Alysia nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. Lucius Malfoy is in there now," she answered. Madam Pomfrey looked shocked and hurried back into the infirmary. Moments later, she was practically pushing a cross-looking Lucius Malfoy out the door.
"He is in no state to have visitors! I'm surprised at you. . .someone of your standing ought to know better!" she clucked, sounding much like a mother hen. There was nothing Mr. Malfoy could do but follow her orders and leave the infirmary. Alysia smirked at him as she passed, going back to Hufflepuff for a bath and a change of clothes.
Two hours later, dressed and clean, she sneaked back through the doors of the infirmary. Several of the patients from the previous night were sitting up and talking, but she still couldn't make out anything behind the curtains that separated Draco from the rest of the room. Ignoring the hushed voices that followed her, she strode straight to the curtains and slipped inside.
Much to her surprise, Draco was not only awake, but sitting up and reading a book. He looked up when she came in and seemed surprised to see her. Finally, he found his voice. "Hello, Alysia," he managed.
"Hello," she replied. "Are you feeling better?"
"Besides the splitting headache, yes." Another thought seemed to strike him. "So you're alright then! The minotaur didn't find you."
"No. It didn't," Alysia answered quietly. "I was in Hogsmeade with my mother."
"And it didn't find you? You didn't even see it?" he asked, sounding worried.
"Not at all. Not even a hint of it," she replied. She was quite unprepared for what happened next. Draco took her by the arms and pulled her to him, kissing her firmly on the lips.
It wasn't that she'd never been kissed before. Alysia had kissed and been kissed plenty of times before, by Muggles and wizards alike. There was something odd about this kiss, though, and she discovered why when they parted.
"I didn't mean to do that," Draco admitted, leaning back in his bed. "I'm sorry. I was just. . .relieved."
Usually, the boys Alysia kissed did mean to kiss her. And she could tell. Even if they said, "I didn't mean to," there was something about the kiss that told her that they did mean to. Draco's kiss had been different; it had felt relieved and happy, but not passionate or lustful. It had been a real kiss.
"I know you didn't," she answered. "But you needn't apologize."
For a moment, they sat in silence. Then, Alysia spoke up. "Your father is here, somewhere," she stated colorlessly. "I saw him this morning."
"Oh no," Draco groaned. "He didn't upset you or anything, did he?"
"No." Alysia hesitated to mention anything further. Draco couldn't find out who her father was. She wouldn't let him.
It didn't seem, however, that she had much choice. At that moment, Lucius Malfoy swept through the curtains and fixed his stare on Alysia. "Well, Miss Karadhras. It seems you are unable to keep yourself away," he drawled.
"I was just leaving," Alysia answered, standing up and pushing through the curtains, giving Draco a little wave good-bye. Instead of leaving the infirmary, however, she sat down in a chair beside an empty bed to eavesdrop. Though she couldn't hear all of the conversation, she did catch snatches of it.
"So like her mother," Lucius was saying. "So easy to ensnare, so desperate for affection."
"Aly's not like that, Dad," Draco replied, and their tones became hushed again. Moments later, their voices rose again angrily.
"You don't actually care for the girl, do you? How stupid can you be?" Lucius shouted.
Draco didn't answer, and shortly thereafter, Lucius stormed from the infirmary, slamming the door behind him. Alysia was frozen to her seat for a moment, but eventually stood and went in to Draco, who was staring out the window sullenly. He seemed to know she was there without looking up.
"My father's a genius on some things. He knows that some wizards are better than others and that Muggles are so. . .common. But. . .I don't know. He doesn't seem to understand me," Draco complained. Alysia didn't answer, but put her hand on his, reassuringly.
Morning faded into afternoon and afternoon into evening. Anaral had been in and out of the hospital wing several times, bringing food to Alysia and Draco; smiling sweetly even Draco made faces at the chocolate chip cookies she'd made. Alysia found this amusing, but her smile faded when Lucius Malfoy returned. He sneered at Alysia. "Still here are you?" he drawled. Draco looked annoyed, but Alysia set her jaw.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I am still here and I do not intend to leave anytime in the near future," she told him, making sure the haughtiness in her voice matched his note for note. Before he could respond, however, in either a good or bad manner, Anaral made her way into the enclosure, bearing chicken noodle soup.
"Courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. . ." her voice seemed caught in her throat. "Lucius."
"Anaral, my dear. It's been too long," Lucius drawled in a sickeningly sweet voice. He reached for her hand to kiss it, but Anaral folded her arms.
"Stay away from my daughter, you snake," she spat at him. "You did me enough damage, now leave my daughter alone."
"Ana, darling, she is here of her own volition, aren't you Alysia?" Lucius asked in a voice that dripped insincerity like honey.
"I'm here to visit Draco and I'm not leaving him just to appease a rat like yourself," Alysia growled, wishing very much that her mother would take her lion form and reduce Lucius to a pile of bloody rags. She didn't, however, simply standing still and giving him a poisonous stare.
"I don't suppose you ever told Alysia about our friendship, did you Anaral?" Lucius asked, sneeringly.
Now Anaral's eyes flashed dangerously. "It was a mockery of anything real. You're not half the man my husband is." Without saying another word, she ran from the enclosure, chicken noodle soup sloshing out of the bowls.
Lucius seemed to think he had won, but when he turned around to face Alysia and Draco, it was clear he was mistaken. Draco looked indifferent, but Alysia was in a rage. She had pulled her wand from her robes and was pointing it menacingly at Lucius.
"If you ever come near my mother again, I will personally see to it that there is nothing left of you for the Ministry of Magic to find. Do I make myself clear?" Lucius looked at first amused, but when Alysia didn't put her wand away, he bowed to her mockingly and left the infirmary. Only then did Alysia relax and slip her wand back inside her robes. Draco was staring at her, she realized, but she didn't look at him.
"Your father," she finally managed, "deserves whatever punishment the Ministry of Magic has come up with for Death Eaters. I know he's your father and all, but he's a horrid, cruel man. I hope you don't turn out like him."
Alysia did not want to have to face the comments and stares of the other girls in the Hufflepuff bedroom, but it seemed she had no choice. Rather than taking her time getting ready for bed like most of the girls did, Alysia changed quickly into her pajamas and closed her bed curtains around her, even though Susan and Moira were pestering her with questions. Presently, she fell into a deep sleep, one filled with vivid dreams.
In the most vivid of all, Alysia found herself in a church, dressed in the finest white robes she'd ever seen. There were flowers and music all around as her father walked her down a long aisle. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing around the altar and Susan and Moira were sitting nearby, weeping loudly. Her mother was sitting in the front row, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Alysia looked to the front of the church and saw Draco standing there. Her heart tap-danced a little as she took her place and Professor Dumbledore began to preside.
"Do you, Alysia, take Draco to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to allow him to use and abuse you, never truly caring for you, just as his father never cared for your mother? Do you take the Dark Mark and forsake everything your parents stood for and everything your godparents died for? Say 'I do,'" Dumbledore recited. Alysia froze.
"I. . ." she started, but couldn't make the second word come out. In an instant, Draco was holding a dagger to her throat.
"Say it or it's the end of you," he growled. Alysia screamed herself awake and nearly jumped out of her skin to see a black dog lying by the foot of her bed. Most wizards would find this a bad omen, but Alysia knew her father, even in the dark. He wagged his tail once and jumped up on her bed. Alysia wrapped her arms around the black dog's neck and let the tears she'd been holding in all day drip onto his furry coat.
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A/N: And the beat goes on, I'm just crankin' these chapters out! Do Anaral and Lucius have a past? What kind of past? Ooooh it gets better every day! R/R
Never before in its history had the hospital wing of Hogwart's been so full. Nearly two-dozen students had been brought up as a result of the fire. Draco was one of the unfortunate few who seemed to be critically hurt. Those students had been separated from the rest of the world by a strange rigging of mismatched curtains, which the nurses were constantly pulling aside and closing as they tended the worst patients.
Ron and Hermione had managed to escape with only a slight cough and minor burns, respectively. Still, Madam Pomfrey insisted that she inspect them thoroughly before allowing Harry and Alysia to come and talk to them. When she'd finally finished her twelve-points inspection, Harry and Alysia stumbled over themselves to sit on the edges of Ron and Hermione's beds and hear exactly what happened that night at supper.
"It was a minotaur," Hermione announced.
"A minotaur? That's impossible! There was only one minotaur ever in existence, and that was ages ago in Greece!" Alysia protested, but Hermione shook her head.
"There was nothing else it could have been. It was as tall as Hagrid with a man's body and a bull's head. It was snorting and glaring at us all, knocking people's chairs over, pushing people down. Dumbledore was calm as could be, and asked the minotaur what he wanted. . ." Hermione explained and Ron interrupted her.
"It got all mad and said, 'Where's Harry Potter?' When Dumbledore wouldn't tell him, the minotaur got all furious and breathed fire on the tables. They all caught fire really quickly," he recalled aloud. "Most of us jumped out of the way, but a few of us seemed too scared to move." He fixed his gaze on Hermione who blushed through the soot that stained her cheeks.
"I guess. . .I guess I was too much in shock to do much of anything. If Ron hadn't pulled me away from the table. . ." she trailed off and looked in the direction of the critical patients. One of them seemed to have woken up and was screaming as the nurses applied burn cream to his wounds. Alysia shuddered.
"So this is my fault," Harry stated, seeming afraid of the thought. "This all happened because of me."
"Well. . .not entirely," Ron admitted. Hermione sent him a glance, but he kept talking. "The minotaur was looking for you, too, Alysia."
"Me!" Alysia exclaimed, whether from shock or fright she was uncertain. "What makes you say that?"
"It asked about the falcon girl," Hermione explained. "Why are they looking for you, too?"
"The same reason they're looking for my father, I suppose," Alysia answered in a low voice. "Voldemort has always considered us a threat to his cause. As much as the Potters, I guess."
Ron shook his head. "It's crazy, the way I seem to make friends with the unluckiest people," he muttered. "Anyway, Alysia, that's not all."
"Draco went chasing after the minotaur after it set the place on fire. I guess he figured he would stop it from trying to find you or something. The minotaur threw him against a wall, then tore down the banner from over the doorway and caught that on fire, too. Then, it was gone." Hermione looked over at the curtains. "He looked like he'd gotten hurt pretty badly."
Alysia was silent from that point on. Harry, Ron and Hermione were telling and retelling the story, trying to analyze who or what was behind it, but she just kept looking back over at the curtains. Once in a while, a nurse would come rushing out or go flying in, bearing whatever magical cures they could find to help the people behind the curtain. Eventually the flow of nurses in and out of the curtained area slowed to a trickle then stopped altogether. The patients were slowly moved to their own individual curtained off area as the night continued. Madam Pomfrey grew sick of seeing Harry and Alysia with her patients and shooed them out into the hallway where Anaral was waiting.
"Thank goodness you two are alright! Madam Pomfrey said you were both in here. . .it's almost one o'clock in the morning! Come on, we're all wanted in Dumbledore's office." Anaral always talked quickly when she was upset or nervous about something, and tonight was no exception. She hurried Harry and Alysia down the hall and past the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. Sirius was already there, in his human form, looking grave, as was Professor Snape. Dumbledore sat at his desk, stroking Fawkes the Phoenix. Everyone looked very somber. Sirius jumped out of his chair upon seeing Alysia and Harry and ran to them. He hugged Alysia as tightly as he could, causing a memory to resurface of the day they'd been reunited three years before.
"I heard about the fire and I thought the worst!" he exclaimed, kissing the top of her head. "Thank goodness you're alright."
Alysia had always underestimated the affect her father's hugs had on her. Usually, she shied away from them, but once he'd hugged her tightly, she got the distinct impression that the world would soon right itself, no matter what was wrong. That night was no exception. As her father went on to hug Harry, Alysia knew that somehow, things would come out right in the end.
Sirius had by now finished hugging Harry and had turned to Dumbledore. "My children are being stalked by multi-special creatures. What are you going to do about it?"
Dumbledore seemed not to hear him, but continued stroking Fawkes thoughtfully. Everyone stared at him, wondering what the old wizard was thinking. Finally, he looked back at Sirius and said, "I am going to do nothing."
"Nothing?!" Usually Anaral Karadhras was quiet and very much able to keep her emotions under control, but Dumbledore stating that he would do nothing to prevent her children from being killed was too much to bear. "How can you do nothing? It's been only a week between attacks and you're proposing to do nothing?!"
"Nothing, Anaral, until we get to the bottom of these attacks. I do not wish to act rashly and put Harry and Alysia in more danger. Severus, I trust, is keeping a close eye on the inside?" He raised his eyebrows at Snape, who nodded curtly. "Good. Then I shall do nothing. I will ask something of Harry and Alysia, however." They looked at him curiously. "Never go anywhere alone or solely with one another. Make sure that you have someone else with you at all times."
They looked at each other, feeling that their lives had just become ever so much more boring. But how could they argue with the headmaster? They nodded.
"Very well. Alysia, I would like to speak to you alone for a moment. The rest of you may go," Professor Dumbledore announced. Alysia had a feeling she knew what he was going to speak to her about. But to her surprise, she was quite wrong. As everyone left the room, Dumbledore looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.
"It seems to me, Miss Karadhras, that you have developed quite a friendship with Mr. Draco Malfoy." If Dumbledore had revealed himself as Voldemort's secret agent inside the school, Alysia would have been less surprised. As it was, she simply stared at him in complete shock. "Are the rumors true?"
"I. . .I guess so. We had a sort of. . .well, falling out you might say, but. . ." Alysia stammered, not quite sure how to respond to the question.
"I'm glad to hear it," Dumbledore responded with a bright smile. "Alysia, you are the type of person who would have a wonderful influence on someone like him. I've been very concerned for him for several years now." Alysia cocked her head at him, confusedly. "His father has a great deal of influence on him, I'm afraid, and could conceivably convince him to join Voldemort when he is old enough."
"Old enough?" Alysia asked, but Dumbledore put up a hand. Clearly, this was no time for questions.
"No matter what, Alysia, stick by him. He needs your kind of strong friendship." Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "It may save him from a fate worse than death."
Alysia had some idea what Dumbledore was talking about, but decided not to pursue the matter. Instead, she stood and left the office, walking slowly back to the hospital wing and sneaking more quietly than a mouse back through the door. At the far end was a set of curtains, parted slightly to reveal a boy lying on a cot, sleeping soundly, if not comfortably. Alysia, making sure no one was watching, sneaked through the curtains and sat on the stool next to Draco's bed. She sighed. How could someone so hard to like need her friendship so desperately? Could she possibly change him? After their argument on Wednesday, she doubted it, and yet something had still made him chase after that minotaur.
"Why?" she asked aloud. "I don't understand. Why me? You can't pretend that you would have gone after that thing to protect Harry or Hermione or even Crabbe or Goyle. What's so special about me? Is it because I'm pretty? If that's why, you should have a good look at me when I get up in the morning, before my hair is brushed and my face washed."
Alysia wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but she laughed. Then, she suddenly grew somber again. "If you knew who my father was, Draco Malfoy, you would never speak to me again. You probably think he's guilty as sin, or worse, that he's a threat to Voldemort. You'd be right on the second count, naturally. But my father never killed anyone. Never."
She folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window next to Draco's cot. "It's funny, isn't it, how our fathers were such rivals at school? I've never quite understood why, though. Then again, I never understand why there is anything bad in the world, when there is so much more good to be seen. Does it make any sense to you?"
Naturally, Draco didn't respond, and Alysia was beginning to feel a bit odd about her one-sided conversation with the nearly comatose patient. "I still don't understand it," she finally sighed, "why I'm the one who can influence you when no one else can. Why is it, Draco Malfoy?"
Throughout the remainder of the night, there was no response.
Somehow, Alysia thought as she began to wake up the next morning, my bed has gotten far too uncomfortable. It was then that she realized that she was not in a bed. She was still sitting on the chair in Draco's little chamber, her head resting next to his on the cot. And she was not alone. Staring at her with a pointed face and cold gray eyes was a man who could only be Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy. She drew in breath with a little gasp of shock.
"Alysia Karadhras. You look just like your mother. . .your father too, unfortunately," Lucius drawled, an unpleasant smile coming across his face. "And coming to visit my son. How fortunate he should perceive himself, to have the daughter of a convict and a former close friend by his bedside."
Alysia said nothing, not trusting the words that might come out of her mouth. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and looked listlessly at Draco, who was still unconscious. Finally, when her anger had subsided sufficiently, she asked in a low voice, "When did you get here?"
"Several hours ago. You look so much like your mother when you sleep. The same soft breaths, the same pallid skin. . ." he trailed off running a cold finger down her jaw line. "It is a sight I remember well."
Alysia felt bile rising to her throat. She stood abruptly to leave. "I suggest, Mr. Malfoy, that you leave my mother out of any further conversations you might have with me," she growled, but he caught her arm as reached the curtains.
"My son seems genuinely impressed with you, which is more than I can say about your mother. Hurt him, and you and your family will pay," Lucius threatened. Alysia wrenched her arm out of his grip.
"More than we already have because of you and your 'associates'? It isn't possible," she snapped and brushed out of the room. She could only hope that she, and not Mr. Malfoy, would be at Draco's bedside when he finally woke up. As it was, she ran into Madam Pomfrey on the way out the door.
"Have you been in there all night?" she gasped. Alysia nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. Lucius Malfoy is in there now," she answered. Madam Pomfrey looked shocked and hurried back into the infirmary. Moments later, she was practically pushing a cross-looking Lucius Malfoy out the door.
"He is in no state to have visitors! I'm surprised at you. . .someone of your standing ought to know better!" she clucked, sounding much like a mother hen. There was nothing Mr. Malfoy could do but follow her orders and leave the infirmary. Alysia smirked at him as she passed, going back to Hufflepuff for a bath and a change of clothes.
Two hours later, dressed and clean, she sneaked back through the doors of the infirmary. Several of the patients from the previous night were sitting up and talking, but she still couldn't make out anything behind the curtains that separated Draco from the rest of the room. Ignoring the hushed voices that followed her, she strode straight to the curtains and slipped inside.
Much to her surprise, Draco was not only awake, but sitting up and reading a book. He looked up when she came in and seemed surprised to see her. Finally, he found his voice. "Hello, Alysia," he managed.
"Hello," she replied. "Are you feeling better?"
"Besides the splitting headache, yes." Another thought seemed to strike him. "So you're alright then! The minotaur didn't find you."
"No. It didn't," Alysia answered quietly. "I was in Hogsmeade with my mother."
"And it didn't find you? You didn't even see it?" he asked, sounding worried.
"Not at all. Not even a hint of it," she replied. She was quite unprepared for what happened next. Draco took her by the arms and pulled her to him, kissing her firmly on the lips.
It wasn't that she'd never been kissed before. Alysia had kissed and been kissed plenty of times before, by Muggles and wizards alike. There was something odd about this kiss, though, and she discovered why when they parted.
"I didn't mean to do that," Draco admitted, leaning back in his bed. "I'm sorry. I was just. . .relieved."
Usually, the boys Alysia kissed did mean to kiss her. And she could tell. Even if they said, "I didn't mean to," there was something about the kiss that told her that they did mean to. Draco's kiss had been different; it had felt relieved and happy, but not passionate or lustful. It had been a real kiss.
"I know you didn't," she answered. "But you needn't apologize."
For a moment, they sat in silence. Then, Alysia spoke up. "Your father is here, somewhere," she stated colorlessly. "I saw him this morning."
"Oh no," Draco groaned. "He didn't upset you or anything, did he?"
"No." Alysia hesitated to mention anything further. Draco couldn't find out who her father was. She wouldn't let him.
It didn't seem, however, that she had much choice. At that moment, Lucius Malfoy swept through the curtains and fixed his stare on Alysia. "Well, Miss Karadhras. It seems you are unable to keep yourself away," he drawled.
"I was just leaving," Alysia answered, standing up and pushing through the curtains, giving Draco a little wave good-bye. Instead of leaving the infirmary, however, she sat down in a chair beside an empty bed to eavesdrop. Though she couldn't hear all of the conversation, she did catch snatches of it.
"So like her mother," Lucius was saying. "So easy to ensnare, so desperate for affection."
"Aly's not like that, Dad," Draco replied, and their tones became hushed again. Moments later, their voices rose again angrily.
"You don't actually care for the girl, do you? How stupid can you be?" Lucius shouted.
Draco didn't answer, and shortly thereafter, Lucius stormed from the infirmary, slamming the door behind him. Alysia was frozen to her seat for a moment, but eventually stood and went in to Draco, who was staring out the window sullenly. He seemed to know she was there without looking up.
"My father's a genius on some things. He knows that some wizards are better than others and that Muggles are so. . .common. But. . .I don't know. He doesn't seem to understand me," Draco complained. Alysia didn't answer, but put her hand on his, reassuringly.
Morning faded into afternoon and afternoon into evening. Anaral had been in and out of the hospital wing several times, bringing food to Alysia and Draco; smiling sweetly even Draco made faces at the chocolate chip cookies she'd made. Alysia found this amusing, but her smile faded when Lucius Malfoy returned. He sneered at Alysia. "Still here are you?" he drawled. Draco looked annoyed, but Alysia set her jaw.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I am still here and I do not intend to leave anytime in the near future," she told him, making sure the haughtiness in her voice matched his note for note. Before he could respond, however, in either a good or bad manner, Anaral made her way into the enclosure, bearing chicken noodle soup.
"Courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. . ." her voice seemed caught in her throat. "Lucius."
"Anaral, my dear. It's been too long," Lucius drawled in a sickeningly sweet voice. He reached for her hand to kiss it, but Anaral folded her arms.
"Stay away from my daughter, you snake," she spat at him. "You did me enough damage, now leave my daughter alone."
"Ana, darling, she is here of her own volition, aren't you Alysia?" Lucius asked in a voice that dripped insincerity like honey.
"I'm here to visit Draco and I'm not leaving him just to appease a rat like yourself," Alysia growled, wishing very much that her mother would take her lion form and reduce Lucius to a pile of bloody rags. She didn't, however, simply standing still and giving him a poisonous stare.
"I don't suppose you ever told Alysia about our friendship, did you Anaral?" Lucius asked, sneeringly.
Now Anaral's eyes flashed dangerously. "It was a mockery of anything real. You're not half the man my husband is." Without saying another word, she ran from the enclosure, chicken noodle soup sloshing out of the bowls.
Lucius seemed to think he had won, but when he turned around to face Alysia and Draco, it was clear he was mistaken. Draco looked indifferent, but Alysia was in a rage. She had pulled her wand from her robes and was pointing it menacingly at Lucius.
"If you ever come near my mother again, I will personally see to it that there is nothing left of you for the Ministry of Magic to find. Do I make myself clear?" Lucius looked at first amused, but when Alysia didn't put her wand away, he bowed to her mockingly and left the infirmary. Only then did Alysia relax and slip her wand back inside her robes. Draco was staring at her, she realized, but she didn't look at him.
"Your father," she finally managed, "deserves whatever punishment the Ministry of Magic has come up with for Death Eaters. I know he's your father and all, but he's a horrid, cruel man. I hope you don't turn out like him."
Alysia did not want to have to face the comments and stares of the other girls in the Hufflepuff bedroom, but it seemed she had no choice. Rather than taking her time getting ready for bed like most of the girls did, Alysia changed quickly into her pajamas and closed her bed curtains around her, even though Susan and Moira were pestering her with questions. Presently, she fell into a deep sleep, one filled with vivid dreams.
In the most vivid of all, Alysia found herself in a church, dressed in the finest white robes she'd ever seen. There were flowers and music all around as her father walked her down a long aisle. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing around the altar and Susan and Moira were sitting nearby, weeping loudly. Her mother was sitting in the front row, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Alysia looked to the front of the church and saw Draco standing there. Her heart tap-danced a little as she took her place and Professor Dumbledore began to preside.
"Do you, Alysia, take Draco to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to allow him to use and abuse you, never truly caring for you, just as his father never cared for your mother? Do you take the Dark Mark and forsake everything your parents stood for and everything your godparents died for? Say 'I do,'" Dumbledore recited. Alysia froze.
"I. . ." she started, but couldn't make the second word come out. In an instant, Draco was holding a dagger to her throat.
"Say it or it's the end of you," he growled. Alysia screamed herself awake and nearly jumped out of her skin to see a black dog lying by the foot of her bed. Most wizards would find this a bad omen, but Alysia knew her father, even in the dark. He wagged his tail once and jumped up on her bed. Alysia wrapped her arms around the black dog's neck and let the tears she'd been holding in all day drip onto his furry coat.
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A/N: And the beat goes on, I'm just crankin' these chapters out! Do Anaral and Lucius have a past? What kind of past? Ooooh it gets better every day! R/R
