Thank you to everyone who reviewed!
To Dragonslayer18 and Adria: don't you worry, my motto is "Lack of reviews won't stop me from writing, nor abundance of flames will." I plan to finish this story before next Saturday and then there will be a little sequel.
To everyone else: thank you again!
WARNING! This chapter doesn't follow the fifth book. When I first wrote this story, it was far from published so I had to made up the fifth year.
FIFTH YEAR
Draco sat by himself in a compartment near the end of the train, his forehead leaned against the window. The door opened slowly and Victoria came in. Here you are. I've been looking for you everywhere, why didn't you wait for me?
Sorry.
Oh, it doesn't matter. Aren't you going to hug an old friend? she asked, holding out her arms. Draco forced one of his half-smiles and got to his feet to embrace her. Victoria frowned slightly. You're thinner than last year…
Draco shrugged his shoulders.
Come on, what happened? she asked as they sat down.
Nothing, really.
Victoria looked at him disbelievingly but didn't speak.
Have you had a good summer? asked Draco after a couple of seconds of silence. Victoria started telling him about her holidays in Sicily and, after a long time, she was interrupted by the food trolley.
Do you want something, dears?
The girl gladly helped herself, but Draco politely refused. Victoria started worrying. When darkness had already fallen, the train entered the little station. Crabbe and Goyle, who had joined them before the arrival, went ahead as Draco had suggested. He and Victoria got the same coach. No one else traveled with them. Behind a bend, appeared the castle. Here we are, Victoria muttered. In Hogwarts again.
Yeah remarked darkly her fellow-traveler.
The girl held his hands. I know how you feel… she whispered sadly. Draco squeezed her hand and helped her getting off the coach. They stood side by side for a while, watching the castle that stood out against the dark sky with its lit windows. A sudden chill made Victoria shiver and Draco put an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.
You're right, Torey… he whispered without averting his eyes from the building. I'm not happy to be back here, but… he turned to her, hugging her, …but, on the other hand, I'm glad to be with you again.
Victoria smiled, embarrassed. Be careful, Mister Malfoy…this is dangerously close to a declaration! She laughed, but her laughter died in her throat when Draco brushed his lips against her forehead. Victoria blushed and freed herself from his embrace. Hey, do you know what I was thinking? Draco shook his head We could go together to Hogsmeade, this year, do you agree?
Of course, Draco nodded delighted. Consider yourself engaged.
A teacher called them and Draco started heading toward the castle. Victoria stood still and watched him go away. I'd like to be engaged with you in another way, Draco, she whispered as she stared at him, almost mesmerized.
Draco turned around and incited her to hurry up: Come on, Torey! I don't wanna be late.
Coming! she shouted, running to catch up with him.
From the previous year, nothing had changed for Draco. The Slytherins stayed away from him and never missed a chance to fling in his teeth his sin. Victoria heard mentioning "St Gwilym's" many times but she never understood what they were talking about exactly. One day near the end of September, strolling with Draco along the lake banks, she gathered up all her courage and asked him. Hearing her question, Draco frowned and remained silent for some seconds. It was my primary school, he answered dryly before changing subject.
Victoria decided she had to discover it on her own. She went to the library and asked the archivist the collections of the Daily Prophet printed seven years before. After almost an hour and half, she found what she was looking for. Seven years ago on 12th April, in St. Gwilym Magic Elementary School – an exclusive private institute – a terrible fire had broke out. Lucinda Maltock, a six-year-old girl, had lost her life.
"But what has it got to do with Draco?" she wondered "Okay, he did attend that school at that time, so? He was just eight, damn it! They couldn't blame him…could they?" She got to her feet and ran out of the library, decided to find her friend.
She found him in the boys' dorm, doing his homework half-laying on his bed. She sat wordlessly by him.
What's the matter, Torey? the boy asked her, casting her a brief glance over the History of Magic essay he was writing. Something's bothering you. Not even the slightest sign of interrogation.
I know what happened seven years ago at St. Gwilym's, the girl said all in one go, staring at the carpet that covered the floor.
Ah. Draco put down his quill.
The room fell silent, then Victoria raised her eyes: Tell me what I think happened didn't happen…Tell me they didn't blame you, she whispered as tears filled her eyes.
Draco didn't say a word.
So it's true…they did.
Draco sighed. Rumors about my bad luck had been following me since my very first school year…I don't know how they started…which one of my actions or my words was the starting-signal. But it happened. He lowered his gaze. I know I should have got used to that by now, but believe me, Torey…it's not an easy burden to bear. he swallowed hard Torey, now…if you never wanted to see me or talk to me again, well, I…I'd understand perfectly. His voice sounded low and defeated.
Forget it! Victoria replied whole-heartedly. I'd never do such a thing! I don't believe in this curse, she rose proudly. Whoever believes this crap is nothing but a poor idiot.
A lot of people don't think so.
Victoria, who had almost reached the door, turned back. The hell with them. It wasn't your fault, nor for Lucinda Matlock nor for Cedric Diggory. With these words, she left.
I wish I could believe it, Torey, whispered Draco when the door closed.
Even if Victoria didn't believe "that crap," but, since Cedric Diggory's death many other Slytherins, who at first were caught in the middle between believing and not believing, had thought it was true.
By now, everyone avoided Draco more than ever. Because students were becoming nervous around him and tended to drop things or cause troubles, his reputation as hoodoo grew stronger. First-years could be frightened barely by pronouncing his name. As if it wasn't enough, the year before, Adrian Pucey had graduated and left. This left only Victoria to stand by Draco. Her support was worth more than all the gold kept in Gringott to him, but, objectively speaking, it wasn't really much. However, just thanks to her, Draco could bear all those pressures and the thought of the trip they'd do with her to Hogsmeade gave him the strength to survive until 31st October.
After an hour spent shopping, Victoria and Draco surrendered to the impossibility to avoid the other Slytherins, so they left the town center and headed the village suburbs. In a few minutes, they were strolling on the lawns. It seemed another world. The two teenagers spent almost all the afternoon wandering around until they reached a hill. They could see the roofs of Hogsmaede below and the sun shone upon their heads.
Do you think that those big dots running everywhere are our schoolmates? asked Victoria. Draco nodded.
I'm sure it's not a kind thing to say, but… said the girl, …but they look like ants.
Draco nodded again.
Tired from the long walk, they laid down on the grass. Draco used Victoria's bag as a pillow and Victoria laid her head on Draco's shoulder. They stayed in the silence of the afternoon, broken here and there by a flapping of wings or a balm-cricket's chirping, for a long time before coming back to the "civil" world. They took a different route to come back and found themselves on a bridge. Let's stop for a while, said Victoria. I like this place and there's still time left. Draco agreed. They sat down on the parapet of the bridge and talked about the books they have read and liked until it was time to go.
This… said Draco as the coach carried them back to the castle. …was surely one of the best trips to Hogsmaede I've ever done.
Maybe Draco's life was governed by a sinister compensation law that said that every second of joy had to be paid with days of sorrow. A week after the trip to Hogsmaede the whole school knew that Draco Malfoy was a jinx. The rumors spread very fast, like fire in a barn, and soon many students believed that theory. Victoria, in spite of her researches, never discovered who had spread the superstition far and wide and Draco never tried to find out.
It was raining when Victoria went to talk to him. From Draco's room – once known as "Fifth year boys' dorm" – came a faint music she couldn't identify. Instead of opening the door and slipping inside as usual, the girl hung outside the door for a long time until she decide to knock.
Come in. came a calm, dull voice from the inside.
The girl entered. Draco laid on his bed reading a book, on his nightstand a Playing Top (the wizardry version of a cassette-player) diffused in the air the notes of a piece of opera she didn't recognize.
"Lascia ch'io pianga
mia cruda sorte
e che sospiri
la libertà"
[Let me cry/my harsh fate/and let me wish/for liberty] sang a woman, a soprano according to her voice. What's that? she asked, nodding toward the Playing Top.
Draco raised his eyes from the book, Oh, Torey. He threw her one of his half-smiles I thought it was…somebody else, he added, shifting his position and closing his book.
From which opera is this aria taken? I don't think I know it.
It's "Lascia ch'io pianga" from Handel's "Rinaldo."
It's not a cheerful aria, she noted, watching him with her violet eyes.
Maybe not, he replied, shrugging his shoulders But it expresses exactly how I feel inside.
Victoria lowered her gaze. I really don't know how it could happen, Draco…
Hey… the boy said, holding her in his arms. Don't you worry, little one. You know, when you reach the bottom, then you start digging.
Oh, Draco… she murmured in a broken voice before bursting into tears.
Sssh, don't cry…Come on, Torey, don't, everything's all right…it's okay, Torey, it's okay… Victoria kept on crying, unable to stop. She held to Draco as tight as she could, like he could suddenly disappear. Draco held her in his arms until she started to calm down. He kissed her brow, then her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his lips.
Listen, Torey… he whispered, then …you have to promise me you'll never cry for me again, understand? Never again. He gently forced her to raise her head and meet his gaze. It's not worth the trouble and then… He leaned toward her until their brows touched …your eyes are too beautiful to be ruined by tears. Their lips barely touched, then Draco stepped back. I have to go to the library to look for some books, he explained, walking to the door. As soon as he reached for the handle, he stopped. It won't happen again…It mustn't happen again, he said solemnly. You understand it, don't you? The only thing Victoria understood was that he was referring to their brief kiss, but she couldn't understand the reason why it could never happen again…However she said she did and Draco left, leaving her alone in the room. The Playing Top started a new aria. She did know that one, it was from Puccini's "Gianni Schicchi".
"Oh mio babbino caro
mi piace, è bello bello
vo' andare in Porta Rossa
a comperar l'anello.
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare
e se l'amassi indarno
andrei sul Ponte Vecchio
ma per buttarmi in Arno.
Mi struggo e mi tormento
Oh, Dio, vorrei morir…"
[Oh my dear daddy/I like him, he's really handsome/I want to go to Porta Rossa/to buy the ring./Yes, yes, I want to go/and if I loved him uselessly/I'd go on Ponte Vecchio/but to throw myself in the river Arno./ I long for him and I torment myself/Oh, God, I wish to die…]
The song went on but she stopped listening to it. Instead, she sat on the bed and looked curiously at the book Draco was reading when she had come to talk to him. It was "Spoon River's Anthology."
When Draco came back from the library, he found Victoria caught up in his book.
Do you like it? he asked, sitting down beside her.
The girl lifted her eyes from the page. Yeah, a lot. But I had never thought that I would have caught you reading a Muggle book!
Draco laughed softly. So you fell for it too! Edgar Lee Masters was a wizard.
Really? asked the girl as her eyes got wide.
Sure. They said he could talk with spirits of the past. His "Anthology" is the collection in poetry of those conversations.
Amazing, Victoria commented. But there's something you have to tell me.
Shoot.
What are you going to do now that the "bad luck fever" has infected the whole school?
Well…I never really got along with the other students. I don't care what they say or do.
But they can hurt you… insisted Victoria.
Don't you worry, Torey… replied Draco I can bear it.
Better than you bore your "Hippogriff injury" in third year, I hope, Victoria remarked, teasing him.
Draco's usually pale cheeks tinged with pink. Will you remind me of that forever?
Probably, said the girl half-jokingly. Now I have to go. I haven't finished my Transfiguration homework and McGonagall will skin me alive if they aren't delivered tomorrow, she said, raising from the bed and walking to the door.
Hey, Torey.
She turned to look at him. Yeah?
Thank you for existing. I don't know how much you mean to me. You're my best friend.
A sad smile appeared on her lips. I know, she said slowly, I know.
She turned and left. She had understood perfectly what Draco meant. She went down into the Common Room and tried to concentrate on her homework, but it was useless. Unlike her friend, she couldn't take it so well…if Draco's quiet desperation was "take it well!" And there was another thing that troubled her. Inexplicably, she had suddenly remembered the last verses of the aria "La calunnia è un venticello" from Rossini's "Il barbiere di Siviglia". They said:
"e il meschino calunniato
avvilito, calpestato,
per gran sorte ha da crepar,
ha da crepar, ha da crepar"
[and the poor maligned/downhearted, downtrodden/ 'cause of his fate he's going to die/he's going to die, he's going to die]
If the previous years had been hard for Draco, surely the fifth one broke every record. Now the damage was done and Slytherins were no more forced to pretend to save the appearances. Draco was left alone. In class and at lunch, students always sat far away from him and many preferred taking another road when they saw him in a passage. These rumors about "the perfect Slytherin" had been like winning ten millions of Galleons at the lottery for Ron Weasley. Finally, he could revenge himself for the insults he had suffered during four school years. He never failed to remind Draco of his evil eye, and many other Gryffindors followed his lead. Curiously, the only ones who never spoke of this were Hermione Granger and Harry Potter; one, because she didn't believe that slander, the other because he remembered only too well how it had been during his second and fourth year. In his opinion, not even Draco Malfoy deserved such a thing.
Unfortunately, he was the only one in the whole school to think so. Too scared or too busy throwing his own curse in his teeth, none of the students ever realized what was happening to him, the protagonist/victim of that situation. Under the continuous attacks, Draco had changed. Instead of trying to attract attention like he once did, he did his best to hide, to camouflage, to disappear in the background. He had always had trouble to keep his mouth shut, and, now, in a day he said roughly ten words, of which eight had only one syllable. He still spoke with Victoria Cross, but he didn't talk to her like used to once. Victoria was really worried. Draco had isolated himself from the world, going back into his shell to be left alone. Around her, he acted as everything was fine, like he wasn't touched at all by all those malignant remarks. But Victoria knew it wasn't so, she felt it. Draco clenched his teeth and carried on, pretending to ignore all the little accidents that happened every time he entered a room or walked by in a corridor. Nothing serious, obviously, but glasses and bottles were broken so frequently when he was in the Great Hall that he started skipping lunch. When Victoria asked him why, he told her it was the only way to preserve Hogwarts' glass-ware.
That's totally absurd, she had commented. Can't they understand that those accidents happen because of their nervousness?
And why are they nervous? Because I'm sitting at our table, he shook his head. It's a closed circle, Torey. And there's no way to break it.
The way he said it made her shiver, but soon she had another reason to be worried. During her first year, when she had discovered that Blaise Zabini and Orson Derrick had something against Draco, she had got into the habit of watching their Quidditch practice to be sure they didn't try anything. The previous year, when she had realized she missed getting up early in the morning or sitting on the stand late at night, she had finally understood she didn't like watching the practice…she liked watching Draco. During the previous years, Draco had stayed on the team thanks to Marcus. Many students thought they'd kick him out now, but the new Captain, the beater Guthlac Bole, didn't feel up to set himself against Lucius Malfoy. During those Quidditch practices, everybody stayed far away from the Seeker, who had become an easy target for Bludgers, seeing that neither Bole nor especially Derrick intended to fly near him. Victoria had to take him to the Hospital Wing at least one thousand times, so his scratches, cuts, bruises and broken bones could be healed. Draco acted as usual: he clenched his teeth and carried on. But Victoria noticed that his way of flying was not the same it used to be once. Usually Draco flew above the pitch like an hawk ready to catch his prey, without any spectacular action, diving just when he was sure. Now it had changed. In his hunting for the Snitch, he did every kind of maneuvers, especially the most risky ones, concentrating only on the golden ball at the point of not seeing anything else, which was very dangerous because he could be hit by a Bludger or hit something or someone during his flight. As the practices went on, Victoria thought that if Draco kept on flying like, sooner or later she'd have had an heart attack. During the matches, then, it was even worse. He – who had always paid attention to every possible scheme and every alteration of the course and had always been so accurate calculating every detail – had become the most reckless, terrible and irresponsible player Hogwarts had ever had. Some said he did so just to attract attention.
He has always been like this, hasn't he? commented Ron Weasley in a corridor one day, gaining a dirty look from Victoria Cross, who was passing by right in that moment.
No, it was no more the same as it once was…it was different. Draco had changed and, after a long time, she knew she wasn't the only one who had noticed. One morning at the end of April, Professor Snape made his entrance in Slytherin Common Room. The last time Victoria had seen him there, she was a first year and Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater laid petrified in the Hospital Wing. Snape assembled the whole House except for Draco. It was clear that he wanted to talk about him. He looked at them one by one with an icy gaze. Could one of you be so kind to explain to me what are these rumors about Mr. Malfoy I've heard beginning a few months ago?
At first nobody answered, then Blaise Zabini gathered up all his courage and spoke up. You shouldn't be asking us, professor…Me and Derrick have already explained everything to you…exactly two years ago.
If it was possible, Snape's face became even more stern. Looks like I didn't make myself clear enough back then…May I know what makes you think that he really brings bad luck?
But professor, it's obvious, squealed a second-year girl.
He went to St. Gwylim's. The school burned seven years ago, said Derrick.
We haven't won the House Cup for ages! And we won the Quidditch Cup when he wasn't on the team! roared a sixth-year guy.
Send him away, professor, he's a public enemy!
I don't wanna fly with him.
Other voices rose against Draco.
Victoria sat in a corner, shaking from head to toe, her eyes full of anger.
Finally, the teacher managed to establish again the tranquility. Listen to me, children… he said patiently, …you know as well as I do that this is one of the must difficult Houses to be in because of…let's call them "external causes." There's no student in this school that doesn't perceive us as Dark Wizards or Dark Witches. Being a Slytherin is hard, very hard…But you hold your House as dear as the others hold theirs nonetheless. It's true we have had a good period that lasted seven years, but obviously it couldn't last forever. And when it was over, you felt the need to find someone to blame. But it's not right. He sighed. Nothing lasts forever except change. Nobody can control fate and luck, not even us wizards. You ought to understand that things can change, or else you'll need to find a guilty for every bad thing that happens, just like Muggles in the Middle Ages hunted wizards and witches and only managed to kill innocents of their own kind. He got to his feet. I communicate you that I have no intention to send Mr. Malfoy away.
But… Derrick tried.
No buts. Even if I did so, it probably wouldn't change anything. And then what would you do? You'd find someone else to blame, wouldn't you? Who will be burned on the stake next time things will be wrong? He looked at them sternly again No, children. You cant' go on like this. Think about it. With these last words he left the room that, after a few moments, became full of voices. Unfortunately, nobody wanted to believe those words.
It's absurd!
Malfoy is his favorite student. Did you really think he'd kick him out?
…That bloody jinx will kill us all, you'll see!
..brings bad luck…
…stay away from him.
…kick him off of the Quidditch team.
I won't sleep in the same room!
At that moment, Victoria lost her temper.
SHUT UP! she shouted at the top of lungs, jumping on her feet.
Everybody fell silent.
Will you ever stop it with this bullshit? Draco is not a jinx, damn it! It's just superstition!
What about Cedric Diggory, then? shrieked a third-year girl.
If you weren't an idiot, Ratbone, you'd know that through the ages hundreds, maybe thousands of participants of the Triwizards Tournament had died! Diggory – God rest his soul – wasn't the first and certainly won't be the last!
What about Lucinda Matlock, the girl who died in St. Gwylim's fire? That was his fault! Zabini spoke up.
Did he start the fire? No. Did he tell her to hide in that closet where she was trapped? No. How the hell it could be his fault?! What the hell has he done to you? she shouted, furious.
You can't say what you want, but I'm not going near him, declared Jacob Nott and everybody else agreed.
Victoria looked at them like she wanted to spit in their faces or to choke them to death with her own hands. YOU WON'T BE SATISFIED UNTIL YOU KILL HIM, YOU MURDERERS! YOU MAKE ME SICK! she shouted before running away, like she couldn't stand the very sight of them for a second more. Probably it was so.
Where is she going? asked Rogette Dull.
I bet she's running to Malfoy, said Bole, shrugging his shoulders.
She's crazy, totally crazy. commented Millicent Bulstrode. If I were her, I'd stay as far away as possible from him. I don't wanna lose my life. Do you agree, Blaise?
The boy didn't answer, lost in his thoughts. Their words, especially Victoria's, kept echoing in his mind. "Nobody can control fate and luck…" "Who will be burned on the stake next time?" "You won't be satisfied until you kill him, you murderers!"
Draco had never thought that one day he would be happy because there were the exams. They were all too busy with revisions to torment him but not enough to drop the whole "bad luck" thing. Then the exams came to an end, and it was all worse then ever. He felt relieved when he got on the train that took them to London. That year, he and Victoria were alone in their compartment. There's something I wanna ask you before we arrive in London, Draco. said Victoria hesitantly when the ride was almost over.
Tell me. the boy said pacifically. Victoria hadn't seen him so calm for months.
I know it'll sound stupid, but…I wanna know how you feel. And don't tell me you're okay because I know it's not true.
Draco looked out of the window. How do I feel? he murmured in a broken voice Trapped. Condemned. Hopeless. Do you remember what I told you once, Torey? There's no salvation nor mercy for Slytherins and Malfoys. I am both. This means a booked place in Hell… he lowered his voice, …even if I don't think that in Hell it could be worse than here.
Victoria laid a hand on his arm. Do you think that your father will start again with your "training sessions" this summer? she asked after a second. Probably. You saw what happened this year, didn't you?
Maybe… Victoria said hesitantly Maybe in the end we'll defeat Him.
Yeah, but how many lives will it cost? And then…don't forget that there are people like me. The "caught in the middle" ones. The ones nobody cares about.
Victoria tightened her hold on his arm. I do care about you, Draco.
I know… he whispered, covering her hand with his own. You're everything I have, Torey. But I get no choice.
I see. But I'm not ready to give up on you…and I'm not sure I'll ever be, she said as a flash of pride lit her eyes up.
Thank you, Torey…for everything you did and do.
Well… she said, blushing and looking away I'm your best friend or not? By the way, I was thinking… Why don't you come to stay with us for a while, this summer?
In Italy? It'd be great, but I don't know if my father would let me.
My parents will write him, Victoria said firmly. We'll make him agree. As soon as I arrive at home, I'll start looking for some clothes to lend you. You can't walk around Turin with a cloak. I'm sure you'll like my city. You'll see. There are so many places I want to show you…
You've already organized everything, I see, said Draco, slightly teasing her.
Victoria blushed crimson. Well…I…
I hope my father will let me come. Draco sighed as the train stopped.