Author: Madraykin
Rating: R-ish I think. Language, situation, eating disorders and possible self-mutilation (non-graphic).
Summary: A new girl appears and a certain Slytherin prince finds himself strangely fixated on her. Warnings: Language, situation, eating disorders and possible self-mutilation (non-graphic)
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me. I'm just playing.
A/N: I originally meant for this to be a one-part story, but the beginning rather ran away with me. So now I'm thinking maybe 2 or 3 chapters if people like it. Lame title, I'm sorry. Please review, this is only my second fic and I crave feedback in order to improve.
A/N2: This took me ages. Sorry. Bloody school.
I've edited the hell out of the first 2 chapters, so I suggest you go and read them again if you haven't read them since this chapter was uploaded. And I've been unable to contact my beta, so this chapter has yet to be checked for mistakes, sorry.
It is nearly Halloween and he still hasn't seen her at a meal. He keeps updating his vow, and he keeps trying to sit near her during lessons. He wonders why she never eats with the rest of the students. He knows that she must eat sometimes; otherwise she'd be dead. And he doesn't think that she looks very dead. But he has noticed that she seems to be getting thinner, if that's at all possible. He has considered going to Snape about her, but rejects the idea every time he thinks of it. It would not do for him to show concern, if that is what it is. He has never been concerned about anyone before so is not quite sure whether he is concerned about her. It would be a weakness. And he doesn't dare think about what his father would say if it got back to him.
He hasn't heard her speak yet either.
At least that's a logical jump. He almost sighs in relief but remembers just in time that when one is a Malfoy one does not sigh in relief. Ever. Never the less he is glad that his thought processes haven't become completely illogical, although they seems to have become increasingly erratic since the beginning of term. And her arrival.
He is sick of lying there staring at the canopy over his bed and thinking strange disconnected thoughts.
It is 3am and he is creeping down the stairs from his dormitory to the common room. He hears a slight noise when he is a few steps away from entering the common room and freezes. He is sure that they are still allowed in the common room after curfew. After all curfew only applies to being outside in the halls. But he still doesn't want to be caught in the common room at 3am. And he wonders why he is worrying because he isn't even in the common room, and he'll be able to see into it before anyone in there would be able to see him. But then he remembers that he is still wearing his pyjamas and although they are very nice pyjamas (if he does say so himself) it would not do for him to be seen in them.
He creeps forwards and cautiously looks into the common room. At first he thinks it is empty and that the noise he heard was just imagined, but then he perceives a small black figure curled up on a sofa in front of the fire.
He is intrigued. He wants to know who it is, so he tiptoes closer until he sees that the figure is quite definitely feminine.
She is gazing blankly at the flickering fire, the orange flames reflected in her eyes. Her hair hangs around her expressionless face.
She is wearing some sort of baggy black silk trousers and a black cotton top in a style that he is sure he's heard Pansy describe as a spaghetti strap top. Her knees are pulled in close to her chest and her arms are squashed between her legs and her body.
He pauses in the doorway not sure what to do. As he dithers (although as a Malfoy he will never admit to anything other than careful consideration of several alternatives) she looks around with a questioning look in her eye, as though something has caught her attention but she doesn't quite know what. Her gaze drifts around the common room, and then it alights on him. The corners of her mouth curve up in an insecure smile and her eyes close briefly.
He smiles back nervously and she tilts her head as if to indicate that he should come to her. Then she turns back towards the fire.
He takes a few hesitant steps forward, then stops. He squares his shoulders resolutely and continues walking towards the sofa with a more definite step.
He sits down at the other end of the sofa from her. They sit in silence for a few moments before he breaks it.
"Hello." He pauses, unsure how to continue. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
"Je sa…" She trails off. He is fairly certain that she was going to say 'I know', but caught herself before she made such a faux pas. "Je m'appelle Seraphine de Mort."
Briefly he wonders whether to reply to her in French but quickly decided on English. They are after all in England, it appears to him that English doesn't come naturally to her, and it is an informal conversation.
"It's nice to meet you." He holds his hand out towards her. She looks hesitant but slowly extracts one arm, which he now sees is still encased in a fingerless black dragonhide glove, and extends it towards him. He takes her hand in his and marvels at how tiny it is. As he raises her hand to his lips the delicate bones shift under translucent skin. He imagines that he could crush it without much effort.
"It is nice to meet you too." Her English is almost flawless, but he notices a slight trace of an accent. He wonders how she seems to have learnt it so well and seem so uncomfortable using it.
She looks at him through her eyelashes and he realises that he still has her hand clasped in his. He keeps it there a moment longer than reluctantly releases it. She draws her arm back towards her body slowly, as though she were dragging it against its will.
"So," he racks his brain desperately trying to think of a topic of conversation, "How do you like Hogwarts?"
She tilts her head slightly to one side, considering the question.
"It is very different." He gestures for her to continue. "You don't know who I am."
He is confused, and he thinks he must have let down his guard and let it show on his face because she looks him square in the eye and continues,"No one here knows what I am. What I've done. And most importantly what I will do." Then she delicately uncurls herself and stands up. He sees that she really is very tiny and the boots that she wears during the daytime give her far more height than he thought they did.
"Goodnight." And she leaves. Quickly and quietly.
He sits there staring after her then he turns his head back to the fire and stares at the flames.
End note: See they spoke! Yay. Erm, but that totally didn't go as planned. *Glares at computer*
Thanks to Catmint, Twisted Silver Dagger and Phoebe for reviewing..
