I awoke on Saturday morning, the day after the visit to Snape's office, with some optimism. The crest was violently scorching into my neck, but there was nothing that I could do about that. It seemed to have a will of it's own, somehow aware of the times when I was far from Malfoy or acting insolent to it's marriage agenda.
Hilda was awake in her bed and her eyes trailed after me as I dressed and prepared for a visit to the lake. I had intentions to lay in the sunshine of the beautiful winter day and do some research on bequeathment marks. The thought to ask Hermione Granger if she knew of any helpful literature had crossed my mind, but if the frosty glances she'd been sending me lately were any indication of her temperature towards me than it would be best left alone. I knew it was probably a lost cause, but I had to try figuring out a solution on my own. I had to put up a fight now that I wasn't being forced to conform to Malfoy's incessant and smothering babysitting.
"Going outside, are we?" She asked from her bed, where she was lying on her side flipping through a wizarding newspaper. Moving pictures on the pages glanced unnervingly up towards her profile as though they could actively engage with her. Her brown hair flopped leisurely off her shoulders in messy tangles.
I turned to face her as I buttoned up my jacket, "Wouldn't you like to know?" My response was curt and dismissive but she pressed on, sitting up with a serious expression, snapping closed the fragile papers.
"Okay look, I've seen the way he's been treating you. I think I'm smart enough to recognize when someone is trapped in an abusive relationship. What's going on Madeleine? What happened after your Quidditch accident? People are saying you two got...married?" She looked sympathetic and disturbed, like she had just stepped in dog feces in high heels.
I looked at her, knitting my eyebrows together, "Ah and did anyone attend de wedding? I don recall getting married." I crossed my arms. She just stared at me with confusion.
"Okay...so why is everyone calling you a Malfoy? Why were you wearing clothing with that fucking crest all over it?" She stood from her bed accusatorially, holding her arms apart with aggressive questioning gestures, "Why does he follow you around like the worlds worst boyfriend?" She raised her eyebrows at me and threw the newspaper onto the ground. Her sentences had gradually become louder as she spoke, garnishing the amused attention of other girls in the room.
I paused long enough to consider how to approach this. I had wanted this conversation for so long, and now that it had arrived it was like I was stuck in mud. I had no idea which direction to step in. Could I tell her everything honestly and hope that there would be no consequences from it? An image of Lucius' sadistic face hovered in my vision, imagining what he would do to me if I "embarrassed" his family name by pointing out that it was an extremely unhealthy, forced engagement.
I sucked on my bottom lip, feeling a wave of ambiguity crashing over my logic. I couldn't really be open and honest with her right there, in front of all of those prying eyes, "Walk? With me?" I questioned, and to my surprise she nodded and started throwing on layers haphazardly. I dismissed the notion of packing any research books on the mark, knowing full well that talking with Hilda would take precedence. When her hasty winter outfit resembled something that had been tossed sloppily over a child's backyard snowman we left the room, ignoring Pansy's giggling.
Hilda and I descended to the bottom of the staircase leading to the green and silver common room and it was like a punch to my gut to see Malfoy sitting by the fire, preoccupied with a text of some sort. He seemed to never drop his game; sat there like a handsome sleeping dragon guarding the only exit from the dungeons. His pale grey eyes locked onto us like a magnet and I fought the urge to shoot a hex at him before he could stand.
Unfortunately, he did snap up without hesitation, his face scrunching into a dirty look of presage, grabbing an expensive looking black winter coat he had slung over the back of the leather chair. It was as if he knew I would try to go outside that day; god forbid I want some fresh air over the weekend without his contentious cologne infusing my senses. I mildly deliberated on how early he'd been up simply waiting there for my inevitable arrival. Blaise watched with a wicked grin from a nearby chair as Malfoy put his book down, never taking his eyes off of me.
Hilda in all her combative glory held her hand up like a stop sign when he tried to cut her off as she led us to the door, "Malfoy, you unprecedented prick! Step out of my way now or I'll have to shove my wand somewhere you definitely don't want it." Hilda stuck her nose up in forceful spirit and I felt pride welling in me.
He snorted, smiling a frown down at her as though she'd suggested he morph into a fart and blow away. For a moment I had an irrational fear that he might bite her fingers which were inches from his pointy nose, "I'd like to see you try. Although, don't threaten me with a good time." He dipped his head at her to fearlessly scan her eyes with his laser blue ones.
He was quite tall compared to both of us, dominating above Hilda's outstretched palm with athletic composure. His casual clothing was practical, and clung to his toned frame with an intimidating factor. It looked like if we attempted to run a marathon to escape him he would keep up with us with little to no effort.
"We 'ave an understanding, Malfoy," I pushed around Hilda with newfound bravery, my long blond braid swinging around, "You cannot anymore control me. Go fuck yourself." My words were biting with French underscores. I'd had enough of being treated like an uncivilized, caged creature. Hilda looked from me to him and nodded approvingly.
He arched his eyebrow, "Ah, cute. Really scary. You're a natural Malfoy." He shot me down with a sideways grin from where I was glaring up at him. From the outside it appeared that he was being moderately flirty, but I had noticed the flash of violence that swept through his guise. It was the same look he'd given me in Narcissa's closet when I had refused to wear black to dinner.
He straightened his coat pushing one arm seamlessly through the sleeve, the silver and green Malfoy crest gleamed in the dull lighting, "While you may be right, I am nevertheless, not barred from anywhere on these grounds. So girls, I'll be right behind you." He looked pitiless, gesturing towards the door as though our own plans were highly inconvenient to him.
Hilda's face became dark with disgust, "Fucking stalker." She quite literally pushed him aside and we left the dungeons, Malfoy walking slowly behind us with a bored expression about forty feet behind. At least he had the senses to leave a large gap, because not long afterwards Snape passed us on the stairs leading to the main floor. His eyes sunk into Malfoy with a threatening scrutiny as he momentarily slowed down, but he kept moving without saying a word. I supposed his physical reaction had been enough. Malfoy had made eye contact directly with him, then flitted directly to the floor in submission.
It was blindingly bright outside: the snow reflected every ray of sunshine in radial determination. Hilda took out a pair of monstrous muggle sunglasses and plastered them on her tanned face, taking in a deep breath of the polar temperatures, "Great Scott, I hate this season. Nothing to do but walk around lifelessly trying not to die from the shitty environment."
"Hmmm," I mused inattentively, rubbing at the crest on my neck. It was more painful than usual, like someone had thrown acid onto the already agitated area. I twisted my spine to take in Malfoy, who was staring at his shoes with his hands in his pockets about twenty meters back from where we were stood at the top of the hill outside of the castle walls. He didn't seem concerned that he would lose track of us by looking away. His white-blond hair was flopped over half of his face, gentle and loose that day. He was kicking at hardened snow like it had done something offensive to him. A group of first years noticed his infamous figure and took an absurdly large ark off the pathway to avoid his wrath.
Hilda followed my gaze and groaned in aggravation, "That git can't do anything to you, Mad. He has to stay back there, don't worry about it. Let's just get to the lake so you can tell me what's going on between you two." She looped her gloved hand through my bent up elbow, pulling my hand away from my neck passionately. I complied to the gesture and we plunked down the steep trail trying not to slip on the neglected stone steps below.
The lake indeed had not frozen over as Hagrid had suggested. Instead, it glistened in shivery peace under the intense sunlight, only freezing in tiny plates around the edges at the banks. Staring at the glittering body of water disappearing into the horizon brought back a familiar calm from the earlier days of my time at Hogwarts. We settled in underneath the massive oak that I had used to read underneath and spread out a thick blanket Hilda had rolled up under her arm. We adjusted our coats and huddled closely, even though it wasn't windy it was still the middle of the winter. When we had relaxed and settled in we both swiveled to peer around the landscape in search of our pursuer. My eyes landed on a tree within sight, much farther down the bank where he was leaning like a fallen branch and squinting out at the water, arms crossed.
"He's such a creep," Hilda complained, turning her oceanic eyes on me, "Is he just obsessed because he lost his virginity to you? Does he know that nobody stays with people they lose their virginity to?" She surveyed my face.
"I suppose, for Malfoy, it is dat way," I started in a quiet voice, picking up snow and forming little snowballs to hurl at the rocky shore.
Hilda imitated a retching noise in her throat. "Well, that's not acceptable. You don't just kidnap people, or force them to wear your family clothing, or stalk them on that premise. And you..." her eyes went down to the blanket morosely, "You've been letting the Malfoy's control you. What is really going on?"
I felt my heart lurch; there was no more avoiding it. Hilda came from one of the sacred British families and would surely recognize the mark. Without saying anything I pried my glove off of my hand and ripped my dark blue scarf from my neck. I gave her an engaging glance, then turned my head away from her, pulling aside the thick braid so that the Malfoy crest would be unmasked. I heard her gasp traumatically and forced my eyelids shut from mortification.
"I thought that was illegal!" She shrieked, ripping my chin towards hers, "They can't mark you! They can't! Wasn't it outlawed decades ago?" Her face had adapted a dangerous pink tone.
I shrugged, looking down at my legs now shaking below me. Suddenly my throat felt tight, "He did not feel obligated to tell me until it was too late. I still don' know why, really. I am just, trapped." I gave in and felt water collecting in the brims of my eyes, one tear slowly made it's way down my cheek, prompting the sensation of an icy track against the skin.
Hilda reached across and wrapped her arms sideways across from my body and buried her face in my hood, "We can fix it. He doesn't get to just hijack your life like this. That unimaginable bastard! I had no idea it was this bad; I just thought you were being reckless and selfish and had pushed me away for a stupid boy." She rubbed my left arm with her hands and I let my head slump against her, staring at the water, feeling indignant and dirty. I could see him in the distance, crouched down on his heels and leaning against the tree. He was facing us now, intent, hands twisting in front of his knees.
I shut my eyes tightly to block out his image. "At...first," I choked on my words, "At first, he was not so terrible. But den, it changed...I don' recognize him anymore. Just cruelty. I am...how do you say? Petrified?"
Hilda pulled back with a newly sober expression, a picture of determination. She took my hands in hers, now up on her knees facing me, "I have an idea. Maybe, just maybe, we can bank on him being emotional. Drive him away from wanting you or drive him absolutely mad," She nodded her head, trying to follow my eyes that were wandering everywhere. I blurted out a weak laugh at the thought. "We'll make him hate you even more than he hated Astoria. We'll make him want to break the mark as much as we want it broken."
"How? Can you even break dis mark? 'e said it's impossible," I looked up, wiping frigid tears from my face. My heart jumped up a few octaves from the dark place it had sunken away to deep in my chest.
Hilda's face twisted in a sly beam, "Oh well we have to try, Frenchness. In the meantime, let's just try to drive him insane. Take back all of the power." She winked and looked back over her shoulder at where he was crouched, watching like a graceful predator.
Lunchtime had arrived in perfect cohesion with our return back to the castle, so we spared no hesitation heading straight for the Great Hall. I had fought not to look backwards for the entire walk up the hill at Hilda's suggestion. Don't give him anymore control over you Mad, don't look at him at all if you can avoid it, she'd said directorially. It was good advice, and now my energy was as high again as it had been before the crest. The reassurance that I had my best friend again shone through my lighter steps and our giggles while we walked.
We sat down at the table and I drew tea towards my frozen fingers greedily. Hilda dusted little sparkles of fallen snow off of her scarf before removing it. I took mine off as well, given that it now felt like a soggy snake around my neck. I pulled my hood up to a pile at my shoulders, covering my neck to conceal the mark.
Directly across from me Malfoy sat down statuesquely. I didn't look up to his face but rather recognized his long thin fingers and Slytherin ring and the scent of pine drifting across the wooden table separating us. He clasped his hands and I felt his eyes burning into my face as I swirled a spoon around in the tea. I supposed the move to sit near me shouldn't have been a shocker. The worst part about Snape's wary agreement to protect me from Malfoy's control was that it only extended so far into every day life. He couldn't stop him from sitting next to me, or across from me, or from following me from a distance... Thank god the girl's dorms were charmed to prevent the boys from entering them.
"Eh! Malfoy!" I heard Warrington slap Malfoy in the back, who's hands changed position to flatten on the table, "Quidditch tomorrow right?"
"Lost the schedule already, Warrington? I will only repeat myself once: yes, we are going out tomorrow. All of us." His dark voice changed to my direction and my eyes flickered up uncontrollably. Snow had fallen down onto his lashes and he shook his hair with one hand to free the rest. He started tracing my features like it was the first time he'd ever seen my face, frowning slightly. Warrington wheezed at the obvious tension between the two of us.
Malfoy turned around to face him again, following my eyes to Warrington's laughing, "Not a word."
"Looks like you two could use some special counselling. Not getting everything you ever hoped and dreamed of between the sheets, Desrosiers?" Warrington said with a conniving tone, ignoring the blatant instructions not to react. The other boys and Pansy started laughing loudly at the table.
Warrington put a hand recklessly on Malfoy's shoulder, looking me square in the eye with his hideous teeth barred, "I could always help you out there, if you want a more mature experience." I fought back the instinct to spit my tea out in revulsion at the notion. The rest of the table lost their composure all together, but I had a sinking fear creeping into my stomach as the crest on my neck spiked in temperature again.
"Ha, ha, ha," Hilda mocked them back, saying every single word individually with emphasis. Her arm slid on the table as she turned to address the snickering crowd of Slytherins and I noticed my scarf had been pushed into the proximity of Malfoy. Shit.
Draco stood up rapidly from the table, his hand closed around Warrington's neck in one fluid motion as he pinned him to the hard, rough bricks behind, "You will never insult my family again, is that clear?" The loud crack of skull on rock fetched the attention of at least half of the hall inhabitants, who before had all been clustered in small groups murmuring politely. Was he suggesting that I was his family? I felt myself going pale and grimacing.
To my relief he dropped his hand, allowing Warrington to choke and spit, sliding to the floor in a heap. Malfoy stormed out without saying anything else. My tea started spreading away from where it had been knocked over in the assault. I briefly surmised that Warrington's statement had genuinely been embarrassing, given that Draco had publicly just lost his virginity, and I certainly had provided no concrete feedback on his performance. Little did they know, he really wasn't a disappointment in that category.
I snatched my scarf back to my side as though he were going to suddenly reappear and fight me for it. My fingers clasped down on an angular item that was now wedged into the fluffy blue fabric. Slowly I pulled out a sealed letter with the Malfoy crest stamped into it. The seal was black and ominous, and nothing was written on the cover of the envelope. Hilda's eyes drew down to the undesirable present and she growled, "Would he just bugger off already?"