Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.
Warning: I do believe my story might end up being a wee bit dark.
A/N: Thank you for your reviews, support, and kind words. Review! This chapter is dedicated to my beloved Caitlin. :D
Chapter Eighteen
Theodore Nott's previously tired mind was now engulfed with possible scenarios. Each mental scenario presented him with smooth opportunities to apologize to Luna. He truly wanted to apologize for how callously he had treated her on that fateful night at school. Her fearful, brilliant dark blue eyes and convicting voice still haunted him.
When he had gone to the casino resort a few hours earlier in search of his blond friend, a telling spurt of hope had shot through him when he had noticed that Luna was speaking to Draco, but it was quickly dismantled as she suddenly retreated, robbing him of his chance to speak to her. Yet now, thanks to Blaise's revelation, he had another opportunity to gain her forgiveness and possibly more.
He was no stranger to beauty, but something about the way Luna looked in the simple pink shirt, and figure-hugging pants she wore stirred something powerful inside him. Initially he had thought it was guilt, but now he was realizing it was something else entirely.
It was lust, not guilt. As much as he hated to admit, he couldn't pass off the fire he had felt coursing through his veins at the sight of her as being guilt. No, this was more than that. His lips expanded in a smirk full of anticipation. He couldn't wait to see her again.
A familiar voice drew his attention from his thoughts. He blinked and slightly turned to meet Blaise's questioning gaze.
"Did you say something?" he asked, running a hand through his light brown hair.
"Did you hear that?" repeated Blaise.
"Hear what?" he inquired, now confused.
For about five solid seconds, Blaise remained oddly silent. Then he continued, "I thought I heard a sound just a minute ago."
Arching a delicate eyebrow, Theo eyed Blaise, expecting him to divulge further.
"I didn't hear a thing," he admitted. Unwavering certainty rang in his words, urging Blaise to believe him.
"Hm," replied the unconvinced wizard.
Despite Theo's assurance, Blaise still couldn't shake the uneasy sensation currently trailing down his spine. It was almost as if his instincts were alerting him of danger.
"Why? Did you hear something?" pressed Theo as an afterthought.
Blaise thoughtfully pursed his lips as he sought how to explain without sounding insane. "I thought I heard a scream," he answered
Theo furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment, but before he could ask any questions, Blaise waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"It was probably nothing," he quickly said, though his blue gaze was still troubled.
Theo put a hand to Blaise's forehead and asked, "Are you feeling okay?" He felt momentarily absurd for asking. Blaise looked perfectly well, despite being overtly thin.
Blaise scoffed, and removed the offending appendage from his person. His eyes slid over Theo's weary countenance with mischief. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"Very funny," replied Theo dryly. Apparently Blaise was also aware of the sharp difference in their current appearances. He gave Blaise a half-smile, his eyes glimmering with suppressed amusement.
His own amusement vanishing, Blaise slightly frowned as he took notice of the dark circles under Theo's eyes that emphasized his distinct cheekbones. Visible fatigue aside, Theo practically radiated exhaustion.
Blaise knew that a nasty cold was going around, and he didn't want to risk Theo getting sick, especially when he was capable of helping. Draco's interview was still hours away, and he was certain that if he read over any more documents he would blind himself, or at the very least go cross-eyed.
"I'm going with you," announced the slender wizard as he began putting on his boots and coat. He quickly picked up his trademark blue wand and determinedly walked away from Theo.
Theo stared at his retreating back, his startled expression fading away into concern.
"Blaise," he called out, "shouldn't you be resting?"
"I don't feel like resting," Blaise replied in a flippant voice, never breaking stride.
"What about Draco's interview?"
That made him briefly pause. "The interview is still a few hours away."
Theo sighed; he was secretly glad for the assistance, but still worried. Blaise's body was barely recuperating from its brush with death. However, he knew better than to argue with Blaise. That damn wizard was too stubborn for his own good.
. . .
Something was wrong. Hermione could feel it as she surfaced into consciousness. Something had pierced the deep, soothing layers of her sleep. She opened her eyes slowly to try to clear her foggy vision.
Hermione gingerly forced her sore body into a sitting position.
She was expecting pain to rush through her body, but it never came. Instead of the pain she was awaiting, she felt the madness of both grief and rage. The madness didn't seem to belong to her, but she felt it nonetheless. As her hazy vision began clearing, she was able to make out Malfoy's back.
Despite having his back turned to her, Draco knew the instant she stirred from her slumber. He didn't want to risk hurting her. Not because he cared about her. He just didn't want to indirectly harm himself by harming her.
The suppressed memories flashing before his eyes made him feel dangerous. In the current state he was in, all he wanted was to shred someone to pieces.
"Malfoy," whispered the lightheaded witch, confusion evident in her voice.
He ignored her and attempted to contain the rage surrounding his heart. His lips drew back in a silent snarl, exposing lengthened incisors. With each painful flashback, the mounting urge to kill was threatening to consume him. A flicker of annoyance crossed his features. He had never had this much difficulty controlling himself. The last time he had struggled to control his murderous rage was the first time he had come face to face with one of his parents' betrayers, and that was a long time ago.
Hermione closed her eyes in an effort to block the strange, broken memories that began assaulting her dizzy brain. The disturbing images, and frightened voices flooding her mind were not familiar to her, they seemed to belong to Malfoy.
"Malfoy," she repeated. She wanted to know why she was experiencing his memories.
Draco bit out a curse, her persistent voice made the precarious hold he had on his control snap.
Whirling around, he stared into her enormous brown eyes. She wanted his attention, didn't she? Well, now she had it.
Hermione gave him a startled look as she stared into his eerie reddish eyes, but in a blink they were back to their cool grey color. She lowered her gaze and bile rose in her throat, as her eyes fully focused on the spectacle before her.
Draco was covered in blood; an unidentified bloody object was firmly held in his grasp. A limp, lifeless body was sprawled a few feet away. The face of the dead house-elf was molded into a permanent horror-stricken expression.
The sight was grotesque.
She couldn't imagine what the house-elf had done to deserve this death. She shook her head, he probably hadn't done anything. Malfoy was a monster and he simply enjoyed inflicting pain on others.
She gasped as she noticed that he had possession of her hand. She immediately ripped it out of his grasp.
Draco raised an eyebrow in question, but otherwise offered no explanation for what he had done.
"Why?" she questioned, feeling appalled to an extent, but not exactly frightened.
"Why what?" retorted Draco, a small smirk forming on his handsome face.
Carelessly, he dropped the heart onto the floor. The bloody organ landed with a resounding thump that made Hermione visibly shiver.
Draco knew what she was asking. Much of his anger had worn off and the flashbacks had abruptly stopped. He wanted a sense of normalcy back and his version of normal included terrorizing a certain mudblood.
"Why did you kill him?" Hermione hesitantly asked. She purposely avoided looking at the corpse, not trusting her queasy stomach.
"He annoyed me," replied Draco in a voice devoid of emotion
She shot him a look, but before she could say anything, Edric intervened.
"Hermione, how are you feeling?" he questioned, looking between the two of them. Edric had been a silent spectator. He didn't dare approach either of them while they seemed to be in some sort of invisible exchange. The moment the immense power radiating in the room had vanished, he had deemed it safe to approach them.
"I feel better, but a little queasy," she truthfully answered.
Draco chuckled darkly. So the mudblood couldn't handle the sight of blood and carnage? How typical.
Edric ignored Draco as he carefully offered Hermione a blanket.
Blushing furiously at realizing that her state of dress revealed a considerable amount of bare skin, she quickly took it from his grasp and covered herself.
"Thank you," she said, her blush finally receding.
Edric merely nodded his head in acknowledgement.
After picking up his mother's old nightgown with his only clean hand, Draco turned to take a shower in one of the guest rooms, but was quickly blocked by Edric.
"Where are you going?" asked the healer, crossing his arms.
Draco inwardly sighed. Wasn't it obvious that he was in need of a shower?
"To take a shower," he answered, sidestepping the healer.
"You'll have to take one here. She needs to be physically near you," explained Edric.
Silver eyes narrowed in irritation. Draco glanced back at Hermione, her large eyes almost seemed too big for her small face.
He gave her a humorless smile.
. . .
The annoyed blonde let out an unladylike curse as she continued to reshelve the scattered books in her store.
Luna Lovegood was not having a good day. Her best friend wouldn't answer her phone and Edric had canceled on her. Not to mention the three rude, prepubescent customers that had stopped by earlier. They were not only rude, but they had intentionally picked up items from their rightful place in the shelves and placed them at random locations throughout the store.
She hated disorganization.
Finding the misplaced items and putting them back to their proper locations had taken about two hours and the whole fiasco had also given her a lasting headache. What ensued afterwards could only be described as chaos.
Only two out of her four employees were working today and a sudden surplus of customers had made the shortage of employees vividly known. Long lines and frustrated customers filled her small, yet very popular shop. After most of those customers had left, Luna tripped over a small stepping stool and in her vain attempt to steady herself she ended up completely bringing down a shelf full of heavy books that contained the medicinal uses of local and foreign herbs.
Luna's two employees had offered to help reshelve them, but seeing as they were already preoccupied with adding up the total sales for today, she had declined their kind offer.
This is why she currently found herself cursing only loudly enough for her ears as she manually picked up the heavy books. If only she hadn't forgotten to get her wand along with her toiletries from Edric's oversized medical bag. It wasn't the first time she had left personal items in there and most likely wouldn't be the last.
She smiled fondly as she had a sudden flashback of Edric's clear indignation at her for using his medical bag as some sort of purse substitute.
She bent down to pick up another book when the bell on her store's heavy door alerted everyone within the establishment of a new potential customer.
Luna groaned as she realized she had forgotten to put the "closed" sign on the door.
When she heard the soft thuds of boots approaching her back, her mouth went oddly dry, and her heart threatened to break her rib-cage. The hairs on the back of her neck also went up in alarm.
Slowly, she slightly turned to see her newest potential customer.
It was him, the last person on the planet she wanted to encounter again.
Theodore Nott.
The uneasy witch blinked, as if to rid herself of an illusion, but he was real and still casually sauntering towards her with an arrogant gleam in his hazel eyes.