It was already February and Olivia still hadn't acknowledged Draco. He hadn't exactly attempted to talk to her, but she could feel his eyes burning into her back every time she was in the same room. She hated the fact that they were fighting again, but he'd thoroughly pissed her off the night of the Yule Ball.
She'd spoken more to Maxim in the last month than she had anyone else. At that moment, however, she was focused on the extensive Potions essay that was due on Friday. The group in the corner of the room seemed to be getting louder and louder. That's when Olivia noticed that Draco was amongst them. Unable to focus anymore, she packed her things into her bag and started to make her way up to her dorm when she heard someone call her name.
"What is it, Olivia? Can't concentrate? Too busy thinking about your boyfriend?"
She stopped just before the stairs, hearing a mixture of gasps, whispers, and laughs following his questions. "Piss off, Draco."
"Oh, I know...can't stop thinking about snogging him?" Draco stepped closer. "Him touching you? How far did you let him get, by the way?"
"Draco, that's enough," she said as calmly as she could, not wanting things to get out of hand.
He stood right in front of her, nearly looming over her head as he whispered, "Did you whore yourself out to him?" Olivia shoved him back. "Or did you just enjoy it?" Smack.
Her hand burned and she could already see the redness forming on his cheek. Some Slytherins in the opposite corner gasped, surprised that she'd physically hit him. Tear pricked at her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She waited until Draco looked at her, shocked. She waited until he saw just how much he'd hurt her before turning slowly and walking upstairs.
"You went too far, mate," she hear Flint say to him from a distance.
In her dorm, she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a Muffliato, and screamed. She let herself cry, liquid rage falling from her eyes. Olivia couldn't understand why Draco was so two-sided. One day they were laughing, best friends. The next day, it was the most difficult thing she could do not to hex him.
Olivia tried so hard to understand what had happened. Draco had been pissed off about Maxim, but had no reason to be. She'd pushed away the thought that he was jealous since Draco hadn't even attempted to ask her to the Ball. How could he be jealous if she went with someone else when he didn't even ask her himself? She shook her head, giving up on trying to wrap her mind around it.
Towards the end of the month, Olivia was trying hard to stick to routine. She didn't attend the second task of the tournament. She stayed mostly consumed in her studies and dinners with her dad, though they discussed nothing about Draco. She'd been to the library a few times just to do research on the problem that she'd discovered at the beginning of first term.
The silver cord. It was a rare research subject. She hadn't found much information on it. Although, she'd come across some other names that she could look into. Some called it a Spirit Chain, Thread of Life, or Soul Connection. There were records of damage, especially with young children in the vicinity of dark magic, but she could still find no hint at a possible way to heal or cure it.
'July 7th, 1311. In the months leading up to this day, subject has shown only mild aggravation whilst the use of dark magic is present. Today, a particular curse was used, that which I believe caused the fracture during the subjects youth. Directly following the use of this curse, subject was pulled onto the astral plane, witnessing a future event, which I will not detail here until it's nature is known to be true. This particular event makes me quite certain that my theory is true. The magical type, either user or even specific spell, does affect the person quite dramatically. All dark magic has had some affect: nightmares, anxiety, paranoia. However, I believe that, depending on the person and the severity of the fracture, these attacks may only happen during the time the same magical practitioner uses their magic, the same spell, or, I would even go so far as to say, intent. For example, it is my theory that, if Merlin used a particular spell that caused a fracture in a person, anyone who used a spell created my Merlin could induce an attack just the same. I do not believe that, in a specific case such as that, distance would create a problem, since, the astral plane exists in all times and locations at once. Let it be known that, as of now, I would state that any fracture is individual and unique. Any number of things could be of note: time, date, user, victim, location, season, moon, etc. All these things could play some part in the severity or specificity of the fracture and attacks thereafter.'
The Dark Lord. It was plain as day, now. Olivia knew this all had something to do with the Dark Lord and his followers. The attack that she'd experienced was created by a Deatheater uprising. That had to mean something. This information made her question so much about her childhood, before her memory began. What had happened to her mother?
Olivia was on her way back to the dungeons from her last class of the day. She noticed that Moody was at the end of the corridor, walking in her direction. With each step she took, she hoped that he wouldn't say a word to her, that he'd pass her silently.
As she was within mere steps from him, Olivia heard a grumble come from his chest before he breathed out. Gross. That's when she walked past him, through the air surrounding him, and smelled it. Her eyes widened, but she kept walking, just as she did before, knowing that crazy eye of his would see if she faltered. Letting out the breathe she'd been holding as she came around the corner, she paused, stunned at what she'd just smelled.
Taking the corridor to the left, which she hadn't planned to do, she made her way quickly to the Potions classroom. Olivia opened the door without knocking, seeing him where she imagined he might be, at his desk grading essays. She closed the door and took a few steps into the classroom as he looked up.
"Olivia, what," he started, seeing her stunned expression.
"It's Moody," she whispered, almost fearing the walls would hear her. "Daddy, I walked past him in the hallway just now. He smelled like Polyjuice potion. If that's not Moody, who is it?"
He stood from his seat and crossed the room. "Tell me exactly what happened."
"I was in the corridor, walking back to the dungeons from class. Moody was walking past me and he, well, he burped and I smelled it as I walked past. It was Polyjuice potion, I swear it."
"Was anyone else with you? Did he see you react?" he asked, grasping her shoulder.
"No, no, I was alone and I didn't react until I rounded the corner. I came straight here."
"Good. Don't say anything to anyone. Go back to your dorm. I must go speak with Albus." She only nodded in understanding as he lead her out of the classroom before they went in separate ways.
Olivia didn't hear anything from her dad about what had happened and there was nothing going on that she knew of. Perhaps, they were letting things play out, waiting to see what he, if it was a he, was up to. Perhaps, they were trying to find the real Moody.
She was just heading back from dinner. She'd sat far away from Draco, even though she could feel him staring, as he always did. Olivia wished he would stop. It was difficult to not acknowledge him, but she didn't want to give in. She wanted every part of him to know how upset she was.
Just then, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into the girls bathroom. She tried to move her hand to her wand, but he had shoved her up against the wall, locking the door after casting Homenum Revelio with no effect.
"Draco, get off, you prick," she tried to push him away, but he had his full weight against her.
He put his hand over her mouth. Reaching behind him with both hands, she could grab the wand inside her left sleeve. Tucking it under his chin, he got the picture and backed up, putting his wand away. "Olivia, just listen to me. Please." The look in his eyes was enough for her to listen.
"Say whatever you like, but I'm leaving as soon as you're done."
"Look, I," he started, but hesitated, as if he didn't know the words to say or couldn't force them to his mouth. "You were right...about Pansy."
"Is that all you have to say to me?" she asked, astonished that was what came to his mind.
"No! I...I'm sorry," he spat, as if the word was disgusting to him. "I was pissed that you were right and I couldn't accept that and then you had to go and get with...with a Durmstrang and I just wanted to hurt you because I was pissed off, alright?" He had a pained look in his eyes. Lowering her wand, he continued, "I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry."
"You're bloody right you shouldn't have! And," she grasped at the words, "and I wouldn't have gone with Maxim to the Ball if you had asked me first! And you shouldn't have gotten pissed off! He was actually nice and you ruined that night for me! You're a fucking prick, Draco," she muttered at the end, brushing the angry tear from her cheek.
Draco took the steps that remained between them, placed a hand on her shoulder, pausing as if he was testing how close she'd allow him to be, and clenched his jaw tight. It was only a second later that she realized what he was doing. The second he took her face in both hands and pressed his lips against her own, she realized that he was gathering the courage to do that.
This was so different from before. He wasn't gentle. He kissed her heatedly and she was sure her lips would be bruised afterward. When she kissed him back, Draco wrapped his fingers around the side of her neck, pulling her harder against him, taking his other hand and wrapping it around her waist.
Olivia couldn't help, but wrap her arm around his shoulders, as if she need to hang onto him, as if her knees would fail her. In fact, they did, slightly, when he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip. This was the kiss she had imagined. The nervous ball of fire that rested in her stomach before wasn't there. In it's stead, was a flame that spread throughout her whole body.
As the two slowed and began to pull away, their breathing hastened and shallow, Draco pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to hate me anymore."
"Draco, I could never hate you," she said, opening her eyes to gaze into his own, "but don't ever talk to me like that again or I will do more than slap you."
He smiled at that. "You did slap me pretty hard."
"You deserved it."
"I did."
"So," she said, sucking on her bottom lip, still tasting him there, "what does this mean?"
"I guess it means whatever you want it to mean," he said, barely above a whisper. "I just know I've wanted to do that since Summer."
It was the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Draco had talked her into going. They hadn't spoken much more about their relationship since he'd pulled her into the girls' bathroom and kissed her. Things had gone back to the way they were before they'd argued with one exception.
It was always discrete, either at dinner, beneath the table, when they were alone, or like now, when they were sitting so closely in a crowd where no one paid them any attention. He'd wrapped his hand around her own. Neither had asked or said anything. Both were just letting whatever it was happen and go its own course.
As Professor Flitwick orchestrated the band, the cheering began. The champions came into the small clearing along with the Headmaster. She noticed Moody moving along the side as Dumbledore stepped onto the podium.
"Silence!" he said, his voice booming over the crowd. Everyone took their seats as he began explaining the task. "Professor Moody has placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position. And as Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter are tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour. The first person to touch the cup will be the winner! Now, the staff will be patrolling the perimeter. If at any point a contestant wishes to withdrawal from the task, they need only send up red sparks with their wands. Contestants, gather round..."
Dumbledore stepped down from the podium and stood amongst the champions for a moment before sending them to their positions. There was some frustration at the canon fire, which Olivia could clearly see on the Headmaster's face. The band, hesitantly, started up again as Potter and Diggory took their first cautious steps into the maze.
Olivia frowned as she saw Potter turn to look at Moody before continuing. She felt a sort of nervousness boil in her stomach, a darkness rising in her chest. Unintentionally, she gripped Draco's hand tightly. He looked at her hand, then her face, excitement diminishing from his expression.
"What is it?" he asked her, leaning down towards her ear.
"Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong." She couldn't explain it. The nervousness was starting to turn into a quiet panic as time wore on. Olivia found her dad among the remaining professors in the crowd, but she couldn't discretely catch his eye.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in an attempt to calm the quickening of her heart. She swallowed the panic down, feeling her throat beginning to choke with it. Draco adjusted his hand, lacing his fingers between her own so that she could grip harder.
She found it difficult not to fidget, to get up and pace the stands, or to even rock in her seat to fight off the feeling of dread that seemed to overtake her. Long minutes passed before the first flash of darkness came over her eyes. The suddenness shocked her, but another came and made her briefly dizzy.
Olivia tried to stay calm, knowing what was happening as she linked the occurrence to her dream from before. Another flash of scenery was shown to her, but it was too fast to make out at first before the next. A cemetery. Blood. A flash of green light. The visions stopped, but the panic did not and she tried to stomach the feeling.
A flash of light came into the small stadium clearing and applause broke out. She looked up to see Harry Potter, holding the Triwizard Cup, but his arm was wrapped around Cedric Diggory. She couldn't hear anything other than the crowd around her, but she felt the pain practically emanating from him.
"Oh, no," she whispered. Glancing around, she found her dad moving towards the boy. She noticed his left hand was clenched unbearably tight. "Draco," she gasped, her voice grating. He looked at her with worry and leaned closer. "He's back."
They stood as the realization went through everyone in the audience. The Headmaster tried to shield both Harry and the body, but the Minister made it painfully obvious what had happened. Worst of all, Diggory's dad came barreling out of the stands. That was when the painful cries broke through the surrounding noise. It was heartbreaking.
Harry was finally pulled away from Diggory's body and the teachers tended to the students. Olivia saw that Moody was guiding Potter away from the stadium. As Moody glanced back to the scene, she saw a menacing smirk on his face. It sent a dreadful shiver down her spine.
Breaking Draco's hold on her hand, she shoved her way down the stands towards her dad. "Professor," she called, but was not heard. "Daddy," she exclaimed again as she got closer. He turned to see the frightened look in her eyes. She took a wavering breath before she spoke, trying not to show too much fear in front of everyone. "Moody took Harry. He was taking him back towards the castle."
He gripped her upper arm, tightly as if he was attempting to keep himself from acting on instinct. "Stay with Draco," he said low, looking deeply serious. She nodded before he turned towards Dumbledore, speaking in quiet whispers. The Headmaster motioned for McGonagall and the three left the stadium, heading towards the castle.
Draco came to her side. Olivia felt nauseous. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said quietly to him.
"Come on," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her out of the stadium, away from the noise and crowd.
They reached one of the walkways that lead to the lake and she felt as if she could finally breathe. "He's back, Draco." Her voice was a mixture of panic and disbelief. Olivia wanted to cry, but she refused to give into it. "I'm scared," she admitted.
He took her in his arms and held her tightly. "Me too," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. There was nothing more for him to say and she knew that. They stood there for a long time, just like that, before they started back to the castle, to the dungeons. She knew there was no way either would be sleeping that night.
"I'm going to wait on Daddy. Will you wait with me?" she asked him as they came around the corner. He nodded and they went through the main entrance after giving the portrait the password. They sat on the sofa and waited for what seemed like forever before they heard the portrait move.
"What happened?" she asked impatiently as she stood. Severus looked between the two of them. Without saying a word, she knew that, what she felt, what she'd heard from Potter, it was true. "Do you have to go?"
Olivia saw his jaw clench before he said the words. "I'm afraid I must." He summoned his robes and looked to Draco. "You can stay for a few moments here, but you must take her back to her dorm." She could feel Draco tense beside her. Olivia did not want to see or ask why he'd said that. She refused to acknowledge it in that moment...that he didn't want her to see him when he returned.
Severus stumbled into his quarters a little after three in the morning. A tremor of pain shot through him and he waited for it to subside, gritting his teeth. The Dark Lord had not been pleased at all with how the night had ended, Potter getting away. However, Severus was lucky to only have been tortured once in his anger.
He'd managed to answer the Dark Lord's questions about his loyalty without much difficulty, though it had been many years since he'd needed to make use of his occlumency in that particular way. He may have been pleased that Severus had maintained his façade and post the entire time he'd been away, but that still did not keep him from casting curses left and right, hitting any and all Deatheaters in their wake.
When he'd made it back to the castle, he'd had a short meeting with Dumbledore before he could finally make it back to his quarters. Relieved that Draco had listened, not finding Olivia waiting for him, he fell ungracefully onto the sofa, summoning a bottle of firewhiskey. Luckily, the subject of their children had not been brought up that night, but Severus fully expected to have to explain Olivia. If the Dark Lord was in a good mood when that came up, it was entirely possible that he would want to be introduced to both Draco, since he knew of him before he fell, and Olivia among other children of the Deatheaters' Inner Circle. He would have to avoid that at all possible.
As he poured his drink rather shakily, he contemplated all the things he'd learned that night. The Dark Lord was planning a full break-out of Azkaban. He needed all of his followers for anything he planned in the future. Dumbledore would gather the Order again. Severus tipped back his glass, cringing at the burn in his throat. He was back to playing to two masters, but he also had to protect not only Harry Potter, but his own child as well and his mind was buzzing with it all.
Olivia had been reluctant to see Draco go home on the train. She'd managed to get him alone in his dorm after the other boys left. There was really nothing that she could say. His parents had owled him, saying that they would have a guest staying with them over the summer and the he should be on his best behavior. The both knew what this had meant. The manor was, after all, one of the best guarded places besides Hogwarts.
He'd kissed her before he left. Olivia had made him promise that he'd stay in his room or outside as much as possible. She worried about him. It was impossible to imagine what it would be like, living under the same roof as him. When all of Slytherin was gone, she took her things and made her way through the connecting passage and into her father's quarters. He was gone again; this time, he had a meeting with Dumbledore. Then, he was supposed to go to Malfoy Manor. She was to stay in his quarters until he returned and possibly later than that. They hadn't had much time to discuss what was to happen since he would likely be gone quite a lot, back and forth for both the Dark Lord and the Order. She knew he did not want her staying at the Manor if it could be avoided.
It was getting late. A house elf had brought her lunch and dinner already. She was finishing her second cup of tea when she decided to head to bed. Olivia didn't want to go to bed before her dad returned, but it was late and she was drifting off in the arm chair.