DRACO'S P.O.V:
The afternoon brought the first snowfall of the season. The high-pitched cheering of the lower years filled the halls as they ran through the grounds, their chubby cheeks rosy from the cold. Not too long ago I was one of them, an obnoxious child tossing snowballs at whoever was unfortunate enough to walk by. Even into last year the first snow brought a kind of childhood excitement. But this year, it brought nothing but anxiety. It just meant time was passing.
Less time to fix the cabinet. Less time to succeed.
And to think I could have had an easy pass at it all.
Just yesterday, Slughorn offered a reward that was almost too good to be true. A vial of Felix Felicis; Liquid Luck as it's more commonly known.
It was almost cruel, the way guaranteed success was dangled right in front of my face, taunting me with what could have been.
Just imagine how the Dark Lord would reward me, finishing the task in just two months! All the glory and praise, not to mention the honor and respect my family would gain back. The Malfoys would once again reign superior, and I would be the one to bring us back to the top! Mother would have her husband back, I would be the pride and joy of the family, and we could live as a family again, without the worries of what the Dark Lord would threaten us with next looming over our heads.
My daydream almost overtook me when Potter's oh-so-perfect glory returned to my thoughts. My head swirled with anger as I remembered the smug look on his face as he held up the little vial containing my success.
Damn, Potter… spoiled prick always gets what he wants.
Everything. Out of everyone, even mudblood Granger, he gets it. The fucking half-wit, standing there holding up his winnings and glancing at me with that practiced sneer of his.
If only there was some way to take it. Would it be worth going through all the trouble to befriend a Gryffindor? Someone who could steal it for me? First years were so impressionable; maybe if I promised the kid something from Honeydukes… or just money… you could get people to do anything for the right amount…
Impossible plots to steal the vial played through my thoughts as I sat in front of the cabinet. My work had reached a plateau, and all that luck I'd been having now seemed like nothing. As much as I tried, no matter how much I researched, the cabinet refused to be repaired past its current point.
It worked fine with simple objects. Apples, books… all went through and returned without a problem.
Though, when it comes to living things, the odds weren't as pretty. The poor creatures would come back deformed, with missing limbs, or even dead. Compared to the other two, I preferred finding the latter. The panicked shrieks of a mouse with three missing legs and half a tail was not a pleasant thing to witness.
If this plan failed, then what the hell was I supposed to do? I was so confident that this would be an easy enough fix…
All summer I practiced for this! All bloody summer! Hours of practicing non-verbal spells, days upon days of research and planning… Not to mention the way my mother looked at me those last few weeks before school. There was hopelessness in her eyes, which brought me both pain and contempt. Of course she was worried, but at the same time, it made me wonder if she had any faith in me at all.
At this point I knew more magic than most of the seventh years. But what good would that do me if I couldn't get the bloody cabinet to work? There was no way I wasn't prepared for this. No fucking way.
I could feel the frustration and anxiety boiling inside me. It was all too much. I jumped up and grabbed the closest object I could find, which happened to be an old vase, and with a growl of desperation, threw the ugly thing at the cabinet and spun around to kick the leg of a table behind me. There was a loud shatter as ceramic shards flew in every direction and skidded across the floor, which was soon met with grunts of pain as I slumped back down to rub my stubbed toe.
"Damned room, too fucking crowded, god damn shit everywhere, bloody ticking clocks everywhere, I'm going to go fucking mad if I have to spend the rest of the fucking year in here every god damn fucking day," I grumbled to myself, standing up and quickly rushing to grab my things. "Got to get the fuck out of here."
Along with my now throbbing toe, my head began to ache, coupled with a sick feeling in my stomach. I needed peace and quiet. Yes, the room was relatively quiet, but it was a nagging silence. Almost as if the room itself was mocking me. Maybe it was the insanity starting to set in, but that room had a bloody conscience. And it just loved messing with my mind.
The moment I stepped outside, the air already felt lighter. I took a huge intake of breath and leaned my back against the door, which was slowly transforming back into its stone disguise. Time to go somewhere open. I needed fresh air more than anything.
After winding through the corridors and glaring down any terrified kid who crossed my path, I could feel my anxiety begin to slightly fade. I made my way up the spiraling steps of the astronomy tower and stood at the rail overlooking the grounds. That churning in my stomach began to calm as I took in a few deep breaths of the cool air.
"Everything is under control." I told myself, repeating the lie over and over under my breath. "Malfoys don't fail." Though my mind flashed to images of my father's mugshot the moment the thought entered my mind. "But he did," a nagging voice in the back of my head whispered. "One wrong move and you'll join your father in Azkaban. Or worse..."
My hands gripped tighter on the metal rail. Backup plan. Focus on that. Think. Of. A backup plan.
My gaze panned over the surrounding grounds. A thin layer of mist shrouded the ground and hovered just over the Black Lake, swirling with the light wind. The brisk air bit at my face, which I found extremely grounding; something much needed with my current state of mind.
I stood like that for a long time, motionless, until my feet began to ache and my skin stung from the cold. And yet, still no ideas. With all the thought running through my head, it was seemingly impossible to focus on what I truly needed to. Like, say, not getting my entire family murdered because I was too much of an idiot.
How hard could it be to kill an old man? One missed step and he's down with a broken hip. Surely there was an easier way to do this. Maybe if I made it look like an accident. That way no one would be to blame. No one would be at fault. If I could just somehow get someone else to do it...
I knew there had to be an easier way. I just knew it. But some unrelenting force didn't want me to find out what that was.
Once the chill seeped into my bones, I retreated inside and took a seat on the edge of a crowded hall. Maybe the noise would help silence my head. I watched as countless students hurried by; first years with their piles of books in hand, the couples too enthralled with each other to notice anything but their counterpart… Everyone too interested in what they were doing to notice the blonde kid glaring at them from the windowsill. Just the way I liked it.
Until that fucking second year showed up.
Ava Bengali of Slytherin house.
That irritating little shit was what kept me out of the common room most days. Her and her posse of fellow twelve year olds would do anything in their power to catch a glance from me. Just a glance, nothing more it seemed. Not even a more significant acknowledgement; for whenever I looked their way, their eyes grew wide and the entire group ran away in an eruption of giggles.
Fucking annoying as hell.
Not to mention extremely uncomfortable.
Not in any mood to give them the satisfaction, I kept my gaze forward and cursed their existence for providing my mind with yet another distraction.
I took in a deep breath and tried to close my mind. They're just part of the crowd. Focus.
Yet those god-forsaken giggles were so abrasive, not even the strongest muffling charm would've been able to quiet them.
My eyes widening in frustration, I tried to gain my composure. All I wanted was to go over there and wring their little necks. Let's see them try to giggle with collapsed windpipes.
All I had to do was look over and they'd leave. That's it. But that part of me that was boiling over with hatred just couldn't let them win their little game. They're not going to get satisfaction from my misery.
Minutes passed and by the increasing volume of their giggles, I could tell the group was making their way down the hall towards me.
I came here to relax. Clear my mind.
A wave of satisfaction hit me as my eyes, which were filled with fury, met hers, which instantly became glossed over with fear.
I stood up and she took a step back, but just as I did so, I noticed her hand shoot up to grab her necklace. It was silver with opal flowers evenly spaced around the bottom.
Holy shit.
I knew what to do.
It's the necklace.
That cursed opal necklace at Borgan and Burkes. That's what I had been forgetting. Mother had hinted at the idea that day at the shop; "Dangerously beautiful," she had called it. "What power it could have in the right hands."
How the hell did I forget about that?!
I couldn't take my eyes off that necklace. My hatred for the girl became almost non-existent, for her ugly flower necklace had solved the problem that nearly drove me into insanity.
The girl, however… that poor little girl was frozen in fear as I towered above her while deep in my own thoughts. She took a sharp intake of breath and tears began to flow from her fear stricken eyes.
In an act of some kind of psychological breakdown, I began to sneer. That sneer turned into a chuckle, which then transitioned into a terrible broken laugh.
The poor little kid couldn't take it, and ran off as tears streamed down from her eyes.
Looked like I just fixed two problems at once.
On the other hand, my little breakdown had attracted too much attention for my liking. I could feel the eyes of everyone passing looking me over with disapproval.
"What the hell are you looking at?" I snapped as a Hufflepuff girl threw me a disgusted glance.
I made sure to roughly bump the bitch in the shoulder as I left the hall.
"Old habits die hard, eh?" Blaise's voice tore through the silence of the hall.
Not Him. Not right now
Do I stop or keep going?
"I knew the old Draco would come out sooner or later. Good thing too, all that moping was getting to be a real downer for everyone."
I stopped walking and closed my eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?" My voice came out flat as my expression.
Blaise just chuckled as he came up behind me and learned against the wall. "Hear you're terrorizing children again. Or was it some other tall, lanky bloke with pure white hair?"
"Anything to make you happy, dearest." I scoffed and kept on walking.
But of course, Blaise wasn't done with his fun quite yet.
"Oh-ho, feisty tonight, aren't we?" the boy taunted as he strolled casually behind me.
"I know I'd be in a better mood if I got to spend the next few hours having a "study session" with little Miss Paisley."
I stopped in my tracks.
Was that tonight?
And how the hell did Blaise know?
"…What?" my voice sounded a bit more confounded than I would have liked.
Blaise came up next to me once more and gave me a well-practiced smirk. "Oh come on, I'm just kidding! I know you're just going to be studying in there. Now if I had been assigned her partner, things might have ended up a bit different. Messing around in the library sure would be an exciting challenge."
I had stopped listening before he even began talking again. I had forgotten all about the study session with Paisley. I was an hour late, and I knew I would have to listen to the little know-it-all rant on about it for an hour.
With nothing more than a groan, I roughly pushed Blaise out of the way and headed back towards the library.
The sooner this was over the better.
"Fine, you git! I'll be sure to leave some extra tampons in the bathroom for you, it seems you'll be needing them!" Blaise hollered across the hall, sounding quite pleased with that hilariously original joke he make. Fucking twelve year old.
When I arrived at the library, sounds of aggressive book slamming and hateful mutterings echoed through the halls of ancient shelves. I knew that they were aimed at me the moment I heard the words "Slytherin twat."
I followed the muffled angry words until I found their tiny, feisty source. There she was, angrily packing her things with so much hostility she didn't even notice me approaching.
CLARA'S P.O.V:
I gazed at the clock and found myself impatiently tapping the tip of my quill against the sheet of paper in front of me.
Seven o'clock.
He was an hour late.
Not a little bit late, but an hour late.
It wasn't surprising in the least coming from Malfoy, however that didn't stop me from growing increasingly irritated as each minute continues to pass by with no trace of him. I crossed my arms tightly against my chest and furrowed my brows as a sudden thought occurred to me. Why am I still sitting here, after an entire hour, waiting for him to show up?
He wasn't going to show up. Why would he? Malfoy clearly wasn't one to care about his schoolwork, nor sticking to arrangements- and I was positive that the strong loathing he felt towards me did not help the situation.
That boy is like a toddler, I thought irritably.
Never doing what he was told and always throwing fits.
It was true that I didn't know him quite well- after all, he was practically a stranger to me, but if there was one thing I had learned through what limited observations I had made, it was that Malfoy did what Malfoy wanted. He wouldn't think twice about screwing anyone over, unless, that is, he had something in it for himself.
What was he to gain from meeting with me to do schoolwork?
Nothing.
Therefore, he wasn't going to show up. His logic was as simple as that, I realized.
He was going to leave me to do all of it. After all, why would Malfoy, the pampered little Slytherin prince, do his own schoolwork, when had a studious little Ravenclaw to do it all for him?
You are a complete and utter moron, I told myself.
Here you are, waiting an entire hour by yourself in the library, believing that Malfoy would actually care enough to show up? Ridiculous.
What an asshole.
The realization seemed obvious now, and though I felt like an absolute fool, I mostly found myself growing incredibly angry. I could not tolerate those who expected everyone else around them to do their biddings. It was people like Draco Malfoy who never had to work or be responsible for anything- who had everything handed to them on a silver platter all their life. Surely, Malfoy did not need to worry about something as petty as failing an assignment- no doubt his mummy and daddy would clean up any mess he made.
I, on the other hand, did not have the luxuries Malfoy had. I had to work my arse off in order to make something of myself.
How the bloody hell that boy had mangaged to become the Slytherin prefect was entirely beyond me. With the especially poor behavior he seemed to be demonstrating this year, I wasn't quite sure how well he would be handling his title.
"Stupid, stupid, little Slytherin twat," I muttered, standing up and gathering my books.
If he wasn't going to show up, fine! I'd leave. But I wouldn't let him get away with this.
I am going to walk straight up to him first thing tomorrow and rip that stupid smirk right off of his face, I thought sourly.
"Immature, spoiled, cocky, annoying, disrespectful-" my splurge of insults was abruptly cut off as I spun away from the table and meant to walk away- only to find myself bumping straight into something solid.
I took a step back to regain my balance and looked up, my eyes widening as I saw what- or, rather, who I had bumped into.
"Watch your tongue, Paisley," Draco scowled, his pale eyes narrowing down at me in a harsh glare.
I didn't let myself cower under his firm gaze and instead stood up straight, my eyes taking him in. "You're late," I said stiffly.
His lip curled, "Do you think I care?"
"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "I waited here for you for a whole hour, the least you could do is apologize!" I scowled horridly at him and watched with growing annoyance as he stared directly past me, looking incredibly bored.
I suddenly took notice of how much taller than me he seemed.
Malfoy wasn't that tall, was he?
Yet here I was, craning my neck in order to glare disapprovingly at him.
Perhaps I was just incredibly short.
"Nag, nag, nag. Is that all you do? Nag?" he sighed, and swiftly moved past me, his arm brushing mine as he did. He strode over to the table I was previously sitting at and began to remove his dark coat, revealing a white button up that nearly matched the color of his pale, pale skin. He didn't bother to gaze back at me as he hung his coat over his chair and uttered his next words, "Pathetic, you Ravenclaws."
My jaw dropped and I stared at him in disbelief. "You truly enjoy being an asshole, don't you? Do you really believe you are that entitled?"
He ran a slender hand through his white hair and glanced over at me. Suddenly his seemingly permanent grimace was replaced by a faint, somewhat amused smirk. "Of course I am entitled. I am entitled to say and do whatever I like," he spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a five year old. "Are you forgetting who I am? I am a Malfoy. I come from an esteemed name. I do not need to answer to anyone- especially not of your likes-" he paused, his eyes briefly grazing over me, "Paisley, is it? Never heard of it. Shows what little power you have. So think again before you try to have some sort of sway over me."
Heat had risen to my cheeks, and I stood firmly gazing at him- feeling both flustered and offended. "Having power doesn't mean using it to treat everyone else as if they are useless," I snapped at him, "And powerful or not, you're still an asshole."
"I never said I wasn't," he shrugged; that stupid, arrogant tone in his voice.
I shook my head and put a hand against my temple as I took a deep breathe. "You are ridiculous. I shouldn't even be here. I don't have patience for you," I muttered.
"So you plan on what? Not completing the project? What a terrible Ravenclaw you are," he said. His smirk faded away and was replaced by his usual scowl, "Stop being ridiculous. Go on- sit down and let's get this over with. I don't have all night. You're lucky that I even decided to show up."
He was right.
It didn't matter how badly I wanted to storm away and never speak to him again- the studious perfectionist inside of me was not going to walk away from an assignment. It had to be done, no matter how badly I currently despised him.
I let out a long exhale and dragged myself over to sit at the table.
He dropped into the chair beside me, lounging carelessly back in his seat.
I avoided eye contact with him, instead opening up one of my books and beginning to read through a list of Charms spells. A few minutes of awkward silence passed as I continued to read, and eventually noticed that Malfoy continued to do absolutely nothing.
I shot my head towards him, "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy. Make yourself useful and open up a book."
At this, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned further back into his chair, looking annoyingly comfortable. "I have a better proposition to make," he said. "Let's make a deal, shall we?"
I narrowed my eyes, "I'm not interested in any of your deals."
"What is that you want, Paisley? How many galleons are you in need of? Go on- name the price."
"What are you on about?" I scowled, staring at him in disbelief.
"It's quite simple. You agree to do all of my schoolwork for me from this point on, and I will pay you in return," he stated simply, pale eyes glinting mischievously.
"Absolutely not," I snapped.
"Why not? It couldn't be too much trouble for a brain like you," he said. "Not to mention, you look like you need the money."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I gasped, my cheeks growing hot.
"You would be an idiot to deny me," he replied smoothly, "Malfoys always pay their debts."
I turned sharply in my seat to face him, "You think you can just pay everybody off to do whatever it is you don't like, don't you? Well guess what, Malfoy? I'm not going to be one of those people. I don't want your money. You're going to do your own damn schoolwork, and you're going to help me with this project."
His mouth curved into a deep scowl, his pale eyes hardening. "You are a fool."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book, "Do you ever stop whining? Get to work," I waved my hand at him in dismissal and began flipping through pages.
Malfoy picked up a book and began aimlessly flipping through it, a bored expression painting his face. It was quite obvious that he was not actually attempting to process any of the words on the pages.
"You know," he started, fingers carelessly flipping through pages, "I think you still owe me."
I look up from my book in frustration, "Are you ever going to shut up and read?" I sighed in exasperation, "and owe you for what?"
His gaze flickered over to me and he smirked slightly, "Oh, you know for what."
I stiffened, instantly knowing what he was referring to.
The party.
All at once images of what had occurred that night revisited my mind, and I quickly tried to block them out.
I was really, really hoping that this conversation would never come up.
That night was already humiliating enough- it was easier to interact with Malfoy as if the party had never even happened. Up until this point, I had done a pretty good job at forcing myself to forget how much I had mortified myself in front of him.
Yet, of course, he had to bring it up.
Somehow this seemed incredibly predictable of him.
My cheeks were on fire, and it was clear he could see just how uncomfortable I was as I squirmed awkwardly in my chair.
"Well?" he raised a brow expectantly and leaned back in his chair, his smirk never fading.
"We will not speak of that night," I stated firmly.
"I think we should," he said, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "I believe you at least owe me an apology. After all, you completely ruined my night. And my bedroom floor. Thank-you for that disgusting gift, by the way."
"It wasn't my fault!" I snapped at him, feeling flustered. "Your idiot friend, Blaise, decided to bring one of the strongest alcohols known to the Wizarding World to the party and didn't even bother to warn anyone of what it was. I was hallucinating- that stuff was practically poision!"
"Still, couldn't you have walked into a bathroom instead?"
"What part of I was completely beyond wasted do you not comprehend?"
"A warning at least would have been nice."
"You know, I didn't exactly enjoy what I walked in on."
At that, he froze every so slightly, then let out a cold, short laugh. "I'm sorry that your amateur, virgin eyes couldn't handle it," he drawled.
"What did you just say?" I gasped, slamming my book shut and turning to him with eyes full of rage.
He looked away and chuckled darkly to himself.
"First of all," I snapped, "You have absolutely no right to say such a thing to me, you thoughtless pig. And secondly-" I paused, feeling flustered, "You- you don't know anything about me!"
"Please," he replied smoothly, his pale eyes flickering over to me, "I can always tell."
My cheeks were on fire.
Mostly because- damn it he was bloody right.
It was true- I had little to no experience with boys. Sure, I had been kissed a couple times when I was younger, but that was about it.
Was it really that obvious though?
"It's none of your business," I muttered.
"I suppose not," he said, still smirking.
I suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable under his gaze and I sharply turned away, glaring at my books, "We're wasting time bickering. We still haven't selected our three charms for the project and it's nearly eight o' clock."
"We have a whole bloody week. No need to get your knickers in a twist," he muttered, looking away irritably.
I rolled my eyes at him. "You know what- fine," I said shortly. I abruptly stood up from my seat and started stacking my books.
"Where do you think you're going?" he cocked a brow.
"I believe there's only so much of you I can tolerate," I said, picking up my books. "We're done for the night. You're free to go on and harass some other poor soul- or whatever it is you do with your spare time. Can't imagine there would be much."
For a split second, he seemed to stiffen and a dark look crossed over his face.
I gave him a curious glance, but he was unresponsive. His pale, defined features had frozen into a grimace, his grey eyes only briefly meeting mine before he turned his head and stared blankly off into the distance.
It was clear something had crossed his mind that he did not like.
Was it something I had said?
I didn't say anything bad, did I?
I gazed awkwardly at the library door, then back at his still stiff, unmoving body. Just like that- he'd switched from a cocky, arrogant boy, to something cold and broken.
"Okay…." I trailed off, "Well… I'm just going to… go." I very slowly started to walk backwards, still waiting for him to reply. But he didn't. He ignored me and continued to stare gloomily off into the distance- as if my presence was no longer of any importance to him. "Right…" I said slowly, "We'll meet here again, same time tomorrow- alright? Don't be late, Malfoy."
"Just leave, Paisley," he muttered, his voice a dark, hollow sound.
"Right. Yep. Leaving," I mumbled.
Feeling eager to leave, this wasn't hard to do. I bit my lip and spun around, quickly leaving the library.
Something about the way Malfoy's mood had so drastically darkened- for what seemed to be no apparent reason- left me feeling unsettled.
What a strange, strange boy.
A:N: Hey guys! Hoped you liked it! Let us know what you think! :) Next chapter will be up soon!
Xoxo, Anna & Lola