Blinding light from the crack in the curtain caused Miya to awaken. Head pounding, she tried to recall the previous night, and how exactly she ended up lying in a bed that was not her own. Miya's ankle throbbed in time with her heartbeat as she recognized the private nursing room within the Malfoy Manor, a room that Miya has grown increasingly familiar with since her stay began as a student at Hogwarts.
Narcissa walked into the room, startled to see the child awake. "Oh, wasn't expecting to see you up so soon."
There wasn't anger or disappointment in her tone when she said that, unlike her husband or son if they were to say the same. No, Miya heard genuine concern and surprise in Narcissa.
"My body has slowly grown accustomed to Nagini's bite. How long has it been?"
"Two hours."
"Wow… a new record. Pretty soon I won't even pass out unless she is trying to kill me." Miya's bitter laugh was echoed in the mother's eyes.
In the pre-dawn light, Miya checked her ankle underneath the wrappings. It was swollen and had a slight purple hue. She tried to stand, but immediately felt the room spinning. "Nope. Definitely not ready for that yet. Do you have any water?"
After Narcissa had a house-elf bring Miya a drink, staring the girl down – non aggressively for once – the older woman left. Miya was glad to see her go. The bright blue eyes seemed to pierce into Miya's soul, and she didn't like it.
Once she was able to walk once more, Miya made her way to her room, which felt more like an entire suite at times. Inside, she washed up in the basin sink. "Stupid bandages preventing a nice hot shower," she grumbled under her breath. Despite the two hours rest she just endured, Miya felt her joints aching and crashed unto her bed, asleep once more.
\\\
The next few days passed in a blur. Miya spent as much time as se could outside the manor, however, after one too many times coming in past her curfew, Lucius demanded that Draco accompany Miya wherever she went.
The summer heat was breaking, meaning that the school year was nearly upon the two teens. "It's hot! Why would you want to be out here, working like a Muggle?" Draco whined one day while Miya worked the small garden patch Narcissa relented in giving up. Miya dug by hand, meticulously counted out every seed before dropping it into the small plot. Once her seed was in the ground and covered, Miya rose off the soil, looking at her hands.
She gave the Malfoy heir a puzzled look. "What's wrong? Are you afraid of the dirt?" She gave a wicked grin and slowly advanced towards the blonde. "What are you doing Thatcher? Oh, bloody hell, not what I think you want to do."
Miya continued to step closer, and Draco began to back away. He looked more and more frantic. "Miya," he tried to change tactics. "This is a new robe. I don't feel like getting it dirty. Come on Miya. Stop this already!"
She stopped right in front of her fellow Slytherin. Cocking her head as if she was going to actually consider what he was saying, or as if she could hear an inner voice, Miya suddenly frowned.
"Fine," she pouted. "I won't get the dirt on your robes."
Draco broke out a relieved sigh. He might have even given Miya a good-humored smirk, not quite a smile, but close from the Malfoy line. However, Miya as always held a double meaning behind her words.
"You are it!" she screamed, smacking one of her dirt-covered hands onto the polished looking mop of white hair. Miya took off running across the manor grounds as Draco processed the fact his now dirty hair was a result of the game Miya wanted to play.
"You bloody nitwit!" He screamed. "Ill show you whose it!"
Miya ran harder despite the pain she could feel building in her ribs, laughter trailing behind her and easily carried in the wind back to Draco. She gave a brief look behind to see Draco twirling his wand, but to far to hear the incantation. Then he pointed away from Miya, back towards the manor. Knowing he wasn't going to take the insult laying down – he was a Malfoy after all – Miya pushed herself towards the small clump of trees at the edge of the property.
She heard a whoosh! But refused to look, fearing that slowing down now would be fatal.
Out of the sky, literally, Draco dropped in front of Miya, his broom maybe a meter off the ground. She skidded to a stop, gasping to gain air back into her lungs. "Nice trick," she panted between breaths.
"Want to see another one?" Without waiting for her reply, Draco grabbed Miya's hand and launched into the air, zooming the previous path that Miya had tried to take. Her eyes grew large as the broom rose in altitude, staring at the landscape underneath her soaring feet. She stared up at Draco, mentally pleading for mercy.
Instead, he sniggered at the fear in her eyes. "By the way, Miya." He crowed. "You're it! Oops."
He let go. He fucking let go!
People say that dropping from extreme heights are supposed to cause life flashbacks, or a person would think about how they should have done something different in their lives. But the only thought running through Miya's head was just that – Draco actually let go of her hand.
She dropped like a stone. Despite her bravado gained from the childhood she's been forced to endure, Miya couldn't stand to see the ground, the trees and deadly branches racing closed… so she closed her eyes. In the split second she had left, Miya wondered if Draco would regret his actions, or if any of her friends that she somehow managed to gain would miss her.
