Hogwarts letters arrived a bit earlier than usual this year and my brother, of course, didn't get to be head boy. I thought he would've had a pretty good chance of getting it if he hadn't got into trouble with the Dark Lord and his crowd. I loved throwing that in his face. I know it served as a certain amount of irritation but, as always, he had his ready-made excuse that all teachers had favorites. My sweet, deluded brother…
My brother amazes me still. Only he can get through months of depression and then get back to his life as though nothing had happened. After a year of anguish, he was himself again. At least, so it seemed to me.
It took a long time, but my brother was finally convinced that he wasn't to blame. At least that was what he said to me, even now I still don't know if he truly believed that at the time or if he just said it to placate me.
I don't care what you think, but he really wasn't to blame. He had to make a decision and in the end he chose to save his family. He didn't kill anyone, so there's no point dwelling on it.
A few people dared ask me if I knew what was going on with my brother during sixth year and I told them delicately to mind their own business, but the truth was that Dray liked to keep me in the dark. Still does actually. Somewhere along the way, he developed this strange, Gryffindorish notion that, as his little sister, I had to be protected at all times.
But I forgive him because he is silly and I can't stay mad at him for a long period of time; like a puppy with big eyes.
I doubt he will be able to make me angry at all this year – I'm just so happy he's coming to Hogwarts. It wasn't certain that he would be. During the summer he had to attend dozens of hearings - or, maybe just four - but he had the patronage of Harry Potter and the Hogwarts staff on his side. Somehow.
Draco stayed somewhere at the ministry with ministry and (apparently) Order guards, while Mum and I stayed at Hogwarts at this cool room that gave us whatever we needed. Mental note – take a better look at that room after school starts. I doubted I would ever find out why everyone stood by us (though I guessed it was Dumbledore's wishes).
But he came out of the last hearing, saw our mum and me and smiled and I didn't care how or why he was vindicated with a bit of community service. I do remember though that through the hug and smiles, amongst the few people who came out of the courtroom after Dray, I noticed Harry Potter. He didn't spare my brother a glance and the latter returned the favor - obviously the animosity hadn't faded.
I did spare Harry a glance, but only one – he left after saying goodbye to Professor McGonagall and I didn't get to see him after that. He seemed oddly focused. His gaze was sharp, like he could see through people. Like Dumbledore, only more dangerous looking. And then he left.
We didn't stay long either. Mum apparated us away ASAP. I got a license in the beginning of that summer but since I wasn't much good at Occlumency, we all – mum, Dray, and me – agreed that it was best if I didn't know our destination. And away we went.
We stayed in some run-of-the-mill flat under Order surveillance for a day – the most awkward twenty-four of my life – and then we took a portkey (unauthorized) to our temporary home. Temporary means 'until the war is over', so it wasn't that temporary.
Dray got his license shortly after his last hearing and for the remaining of the summer we didn't leave our house. I must say I was looking forward to it. Mostly.
I desperately wanted to see what it was like; the muggle world, that is.
I wanted to see muggle clothes, hear muggle music and feel electricity even if I had to get hit by lightning. It was so unMalfoyish my mum and Dray were befuddled but I was so curious. It was like when I was six and I was holding a perfect model of the galaxy and I so wanted to spend hours observing it, but before I could even get a really good look it was snatched out of my hands by someone – it could've been my mum or a store manager, I can't remember. The muggle world was just like that. Right in front of me, so close I could almost touch it, but I could never get a proper look.
I loved moving stuff in and arranging it and playing with my brother, but a two-bedroom flat in the most unhygienic part of London, compared to the glorious freedom of Malfoy Manor, was suffocating. Plus, the place was so muggle I felt like I should hold my breath so I wouldn't catch some of the mugglism.
I know it certainly annoyed Dray being worse off than the Weasleys and waking up with my foot in his face every other day.
Mum was brilliant. I never heard a complaint, even though she was a woman of luxury. Living in such close quarters was certainly something the three of us had trouble getting used to.
I felt like we were all living in a cell. Like daddy. Well, that was one way to feel close to him.
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I pushed the handle down, fighting the urge to clean it, and walked into my new home… Though it seemed more like entering my closet.
There was a bare wall to my right as I entered and to my left a closet in the wall. I opened it and was assaulted by the strong smell of mould so I quickly closed the door. Right next to it was another door, I opened it and it revealed what I presume was supposed to be a kitchen but was actually an alcove; I could barely take two steps in before reaching the marble counter and then some more space to the right with a few cupboards, a tiny table, some white box thing sitting on another cupboard (I'll have to take a look at it later) and a tiny sliding white door.
That door led me to the tiniest, narrowest, almost-room I'd ever been forced to enter. In the midst of tiny cupboards, bags and whatnot, there stood two machines, one on top of the other. Both were white and the same size, but the bottom one had a round dark hole in the front while the other seemed not to have any holes.
Interesting.
Two people couldn't fit together in this place.
Now, to squeeze myself out of that mess… I tripped and stumbled, making a mental note to put up a shield charm next time I ventured into that place. I loved being of age.
Next to the "kitchen" door there was a more open area with a sofa – that barely qualified as a sofa – with a wooden dinner table in front of it and four chairs surrounding the table. A sitting area – no. Taking in the condition this place is in, this pathetic 'Sitting Area' is probably supposed to be our 'Dining Room'.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus– don't compare it to the manor. Don't compare it to the manor. Don't compare it to the manor.
Damn.
"Elladora, stay alert", snapped Draco, pushing past me carrying a carton box with 'Junk' scribbled on the side.
And I caught sight of dark hair - or, more accurately, dark fur.
"Hey!" I jumped in front of him and opened the box. "What's my bear doing in a box with the word 'junk' on it?" I exclaimed appalled and took my fluffy black bear out of the box.
Draco rolled his eyes at me and walked into a room at the end of the hallway. I rolled my eyes back, though he couldn't see it.
'Just because he had to grow up quickly, doesn't mean I have to.'
I looked up and saw a small mirror hung up on the wall behind the door to the flat. Mental note – do not slam the door entering the apartment. I walked up to it and winced at how dirty it was.
I noticed there was a small wooden drawer attached beneath it and reached up to open it. I had to wince again as it creaked and opened awkwardly and looked inside. Great, all this suffering and there's only a tiny plastic – cheap – comb.
I looked back up at the mirror and observed my reflection. Automatically, I drew my cheeks in Yes, that's one of my biggest weaknesses – I have chubby cheeks. I'm the most beautiful student currently enrolled at Hogwarts (by a factor of ten, thank you) and I have chubby cheeks. Well, I suppose they're not very chubby but compared to my Mum and Draco, they are. It's baby fat that I just can't get rid of.
There was this whole scandal before Draco and I were born about some pureblood family with a really thin girl as their most prized 'possession' and they couldn't get her married because no one thought she could produce heirs. Ergo, I had to fatten up. Like I was a Christmas turkey. Merlin, help me. I talked Mum into letting me lose enough weight to improve my self-esteem (sophisticated manipulation on my part) but now I'm stuck with ridiculous cheeks.
"Elladora, stop admiring yourself and get some work done", my Mum sighed, walking past me with a carton box. Wait, this looks familiar.
I made a long-suffering sigh and looked away from my beautiful reflection. "Mother, I don't think you're grasping the seriousness of this situation. I cannot use my arms to lift heavy things" I made a scandalized gasp. "Do you want me to develop muscles? I will end up looking like one of Dray's minions – basically, like a gorilla".
Mum stared down at me with one eyebrow elegantly lifter.
"Fine", I muttered and went outside the door to pick a box.
'Darn, but my Mum's good', I thought as I rummaged through the countless boxes outside our door. 'She should've been an auror-'
Bloody fucking hell.
Thank Salazar, Merlin, Dumbledore and all that is holy that my mother made me go through the boxes. Right in front of me in a 'Dora's junk' box (Draco's handwriting) is my scrapbook. My childish, stupid, ridiculous scrapbook with articles and textbook pages and photographs of… yeah.
I stuffed it back into 'Dora's junk' and casually walked back inside, towards the room at the end of the hallway.
"Elladora, no running!" Mum scolded as I – casually – walked passed her.
"I'm not running, Mum", I replied, my voice completely calm.
"Merlin, calm down", whined Draco as he strode passed us. "You almost deafened me with that high-pitched voice of yours".
All right, I admit – I wasn't as calm or casual as I would've liked. But you'd be the same if you suddenly found your scrapbook of… yeah. And your family was inches away from seeing it.
I walked down the hallway; to my right there was a blank wall and on my left there were two doors, side by side. I was going to have to take a look at those soon. Right across from the second door I noticed there was another sliding door, white with blurred glass on it.
I walked through the door at the end of the hallway, right in front of me, and froze.
Oh, come on.
This was going to be my room?
"Don't lost it too quickly, this is not your room", drawled Draco, walking back in with another box – a 'Mum's junk' this time. I wondered what he'd written on the box with his junk.
He carefully laid the box on the bad – that was roughly the size of our "sofa" – and turned to face me.
"Mother's staying here", he continued. "You and I are staying in the other room".
I adjusted the box better in my arms and walked out, stopping in front of the white sliding door, which was hiding my room behind it. Barely managing not to drop the box, I pushed the door aside.
Well, this was a bit better, I suppose. This room was easily twice the size of our "Dining Room". It had a queen sized bed in one corner, a wardrobe covering most of the wall to my right, some weird boxes and cupboards to my left and right in front of me there were two chairs and a glass table. That's nice.
Across from me there was another sliding door with see-through glass. Back at the Manor we didn't have sliding doors. Ridiculous – no! Adjustable.
I dropped my junk on the bed and pushed the second set of sliding doors aside. I walked out and it was a corridor, sort of. Does that make sense? I looked to my left where there was a huge pile of junk and then to my right where there were wooden fold-up chairs scattered on the floor and three small wooden tables, one covering the others.
A few more steps- here we go. Just to my right is the "Living Room". A normal sized sofa, a coffee table, another tiny sofa and an armchair. Oh, a box across from the armchair… with Buttons. Okay.
Nice.
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"I'm completely knackered", I collapsed on the living room's sofa.
"From what?" Draco collapsed next to me. "All you did was put your junk away".
"It happens to be very heavy junk" I set him straight. He has no idea how terrible it would be for me to develop the muscles in my arms. I would actually look like one of his goons.
"Well", my mother walked in, looking composed. "This is where we are going to live for a while, but soon you'll be off to school". She leaned sat down on the other sofa and twisted to face us.
"I want you to keep a low profile, get good grades and stay out of trouble".
Well, she was obviously referring just to Draco.
"You too Elladora", she added.
Or not.
"I don't want to hear of anything that landed you in detention… or in the hospital wing". She said that with a somber expression.
"Don't make me worry about you more than I already do"
What was she looking at me for?
I wasn't the one who got Death Eaters into Hogwarts last year. Why would I get in trouble?
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For the next couple of weeks it was like this, getting used to everything and moving on. Or, at least, moving along. I found out what was behind each of the two doors in the hallway. One room had a bath, a shower and a sink and the other room had just a toilet. The mirror over the sink was tiny and dirty, naturally.
Thank Merlin it's just for the summer.
I walked into the room I shared with Dray and opened the wardrobe. Had I taken all my clothes, I wouldn't have been able to fit them in. But all I had in this hellhole were muggle clothes – anything magical (except our wands) was to stay hidden in Gringotts until school started.
And here we are. I stuffed my scrapbook in the wardrobe while putting all my junk (I'm starting to think like Draco, Merlin help me) away. I was going to have to find some way of keeping it hidden without using magic. Mum said to use magic only in an emergency.
Hmmm. Well, this is a semi-emergency wouldn't you think… No, be responsible. Those rules are for the safety of our family. Wow, that thought sobered me up.
I sat down on the bed and looked through the scrapbook. It turned out pretty good. I'm quite proud of myself. I'm going to get Draco to award me house points when we get back.
Chime. Chime.
Ooooh, bloody London - that ridiculous clock banging constantly… It's midnight already?
Oh. It's his birthday.
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