DRACO
Shock echoed through Draco like some sort of repeating spell. He lifted his fingers to his lips, automatically pulling down his left sleeve. Was he dreaming?
"Yes," he decided. "I am definitely dreaming."
He let his hand fall, looking down the hallway. Frankly, he had not thought that Tess would be that bold.
Draco started walking. He left the hospital wing and let his feet take him anywhere; he went to the Owlrey. Choosing a large barn owl, he found a scrap of parchment and pencil in his pocket. Hastily, he wrote:
Can I call you Theresa?
~ M
He attached the note to the owl. "Tess Wilford," he told it. The owl hooted, ruffling its wings importantly, and soared off. Draco watched it with something inside him that felt like sorrow. He had no idea why he'd be sad, though.
Sighing heavily, he went to the Great Hall. His stomach told him it was time for dinner.
Throughout the meal, he rested his chin on his arms, only eating a few bites, and let Crabbe and Goyle talk about how Blaise Zabini had been found by two Ravenclaws in a random clearing in the forest. Draco didn't really listen; he was scanning the Ravenclaw table for Tess/Theresa. She wasn't there. Next he examined the Gryffindor table, hoping that she might be sitting with Ginny Weasley. No such luck. He saw someone who looked a lot like her, brown hair and elfin features, but she was a little taller and was wearing her robes.
In his scrutinizing of the Ravenclaw, he did not fail to notice that Raven Belinski and Quinn Jefferies were missing too.
Suddenly the three missing Ravenclaws burst into the Great Hall, Tess/Theresa in the lead. She was shouting at Raven and Quinn, so fast that probably only she knew what she was saying. They didn't try to find seats at their House's table; they dashed up in between two tables and skidded to a halt in front of the Professors' table.
"Death Eaters," Theresa gasped out. "They're attacking the school's defenses."
You told Professor Snape that? As he thought this, the Dark Mark on Draco's arm burned. A hiss of pain escaped him, making Crabbe and Goyle look at him sharply. He shook his head and waited for Snape's reply.
The Headmaster rose slowly, an infuriated expression on his face. "Go sit down," he said coldly.
"Did you not hear me correctly, Professor?" Theresa demanded.
Oh, Tess, no, Draco thought desperately. Please don't mouth off—
"Do you have a hearing problem, sir?" Theresa continued. "If so, you might want to see Madam Pomfrey about it. She can most likely fix it. I said that Death Eaters are attacking the school. Unless you want everyone in the school to die—I wouldn't put it past you—you might want to do something about it."
The mark on Draco's arm burned again, and he pinched himself hard to keep himself from shouting. Making a sudden decision, he stood and climbed onto the bench, using Crabbe and Goyle as support. "If you don't mind my saying so, Headmaster—" he put extra emphasis on "headmaster" to remind Snape of his position "—she has a fair point. Death Eaters can be dangerous."
He got several confused glances, but Theresa shot him a grateful look.
"Yes, they can, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, his black eyes boring into Draco's. "I recognize that. Get up!" he commanded sharply to the students in the hall. "Go to your common rooms until tomorrow. No dawdling. Go!"
Draco climbed down from the bench and slipped into the shadows before Crabbe and Goyle could notice. After all the students had filed from the hall, he followed Professor Snape as he marched through the corridors.
"Draco," the headmaster drawled without looking back.
"Sir, why are they attacking?" Draco asked. "They know Harry Potter isn't here. You would have told them if he was—or me, maybe."
"Did your Mark burn?" Snape questioned.
"Twice," Draco admitted.
"That would be your Aunt Bellatrix," Snape told him. "Tell me, what did she send you for Christmas? Did she put a note in with her present?"
"She gave me an iPod Touch," Draco said. "And there was a note, but I didn't read it."
"At times like this," Snape said, finally facing his student, "you always read notes from fellow Death Eaters. Follow me."
The headmaster strode across the grounds, his wand out. When he reached the perimeter, he called: "Bellatrix!"
With a whirl of black smoke, Bellatrix Lestrange appeared on the other side of the protective enchantments surrounding the school. "Severus," she greeted. Once again Draco was reminded of her demented attitude.
"Bellatrix," Snape replied.
"What brings you here at this fine hour?" Bellatrix queried, as if they had showed up on her doorstep and not the other way around.
"I would like to ask you the same thing." Snape glowered at the Death Eater. "You know as well as I do that the Potter boy is not here."
"If he was, I would have told every Death Eater I know," Draco put in.
"Draco," Bellatrix exclaimed. "I didn't see you there with such a dark suit! Don't you look dashing today!"
Draco got a strange feeling that she knew about the kiss.
"Bellatrix," Snape snapped. "Why are you here?"
"Just thought I'd pay a visit, dear Headmaster." Bellatrix smirked. "Remind all the wee children that we Death Eaters are still out here. . . ."
"Like we'd forget!"
Draco's heart sank as he heard Theresa's voice. Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. "A student, out of bed this late! Severus, you must punish her."
Draco didn't know he was moving until he stood between Snape and Theresa, his wand held out threateningly. "Don't."
Snape looked down his nose at the Slytherin, but before he could say a word, Bellatrix broke in with: "Why do you care, Draco? She's a Mudblood."
"I am not a Mudblood," Theresa shouted, shoving Draco aside and storming up to the Death Eater. "Will everyone just get that straight! My parents are—were—Henry and Kendra Wilford! YOU killed them!"
Her wand moved so fast Draco would have missed it if he'd blinked. A jet of red light passed through the barrier. Bellatrix barely managed to block it. She cackled with glee. "Ooh, a duel! Mudblood wants to duel! I remember your parents . . . and your sisters, too. They nearly escaped . . . but Dolohov finished them. Kendra begged me not to hurt them—really, it was quite touching."
"Shut up, you HAG!" Theresa sent another six spells at Bellatrix. Draco had never seen her this angry.
Snape flicked his wand. Draco sent up a Shield Charm behind Theresa just after a bolt of red light escaped the Headmaster's wand. "Let me take care of it, Professor."
He stuck his wand in his belt and moved forward. "Theresa." He put his hands on her shoulders and bent down to speak quietly in her ear. "Theresa, please don't. Just come back inside, okay? You'll have your chance to battle the Death Eaters soon enough."
Tess was trembling. "I don't want to I need to kill her—"
"She's a maniac, Theresa." Draco glanced up a Bellatrix, who was watching with an interested look. "Just walk away."
Still trembling, Theresa allowed him to turn her around and walk her back to the school. Neither of them said anything about the kiss.
The months passed quickly, far more quickly than Draco would have expected. He and Theresa didn't really go near each other, sticking with their own groups of friends. Respective friends; Draco wasn't sure if he had friends in Slytherin.
It was in March that they stumbled across one another in the library and had nowhere to go (giggling Hufflepuff girls on Theresa's end of the shelf, some sort of whispered shouting match behind Draco).
Draco pretended not to notice her at first. He scanned the bookshelf in front of him, hoping to find the nonexistent book he was looking for. At random he pulled a few off the shelf, paging through each one to decide if he really needed it or not. He hadn't come to the library to get a book. He'd come to escape Blaise Zabini, who was out raging again and wanting to make Draco his target. No one would ever think to look for him here.
"So this is how it's going to be, then," Theresa said softly, not looking at him. "One kiss and we forget the other exists?"
Draco pulled another book off the shelf. "It's your call."
"My call?" Theresa demanded. She roughly shoved a paperback onto the shelf, mangling its cover and making it shriek. Draco reached over and fixed it before Madam Pince came over screeching about people never being nice to the books.
"Your call," he said, looking down at her. She was quite short, really. Only about five-two. That made Draco seven inches taller than her.
"So nice of you," Theresa scoffed. "My gosh, I don't know what to do—Draco is actually letti—"
Draco didn't hear the rest of what she had to say. He turned and walked away, shoving between the arguers with a hissed, "Cut it out". For once in his life, he would like it if people didn't make fun of his decisions, whatever they were. When Madam Pince came at him like a bat, telling him he couldn't check out the books, he shoved them into her arms and said roughly, "I don't care; I don't want them."
He found his feet took him to the Room of Requirement. As he pushed through the doors, he came into a room full of absolute junk. There were birdcages, Muggle record players, stack upon stack of dusty, falling apart books. It was an antique collector's dream room.
Draco found it perfect for taking out his anger on.
He whirled in a circle, casting the Reductor curse at every solid object he could, roaring the incantation. Eventually his voice gave and he couldn't even croak the spell. He sank to the floor, glaring at it with passion and wondering if he should blow it up too. He pulled up his left sleeve and glared at the Dark Mark instead of the floor. He wished he had never taken the initiation ceremony.
He didn't know what alerted him to another presence in the room. A soft whisper of the door, maybe, or a single footstep. He ducked behind a filthy, disgusting floral couch and wished he hadn't lost his voice.
"Draco," Theresa called. "Draco, I know you're in here. I've made my decision."
Periculum, Draco thought, pointing his wand at the ceiling. Red and orange sparks shot from the tip with a whistling noise. Theresa yelped and there was a small thud. She must have dropped to the floor to avoid being hit. "Draco!"
He rose, slipping his wand up his sleeve. She was on the other side of the couch—he was surprised she hadn't seen him. He waved and moved around the couch to help her up.
"Can you talk?" Theresa asked.
Flagrate, Draco thought. He wrote in the air:
NO, I LOST MY VOICE BECAUSE I WAS SHOUTING TOO MUCH.
"Well," Theresa said. "That's kind of odd, but I wouldn't put it past you. Anyway, I've decided that we are spending no time apart, if possible." She kissed him, for real this time, not the quick peck in the hospital wing, but a deep kiss.
When they parted, Draco felt a searing pain in his arm, so terrible that he lost strength in his knees and crumpled with a short cry. Theresa was kneeling next to him instantly, concern etched on her face. "What's wrong?"
Draco pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark was blacker than he'd ever seen it, writhing like fury. That was what hurt. Hissing, he shoved his sleeve back into place and grabbed Tess's hand, pulling her to his feet when he stood. "I need to see Snape," he told her. He dragged her from the room and up to the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. Draco tried every password he knew, but he couldn't crack the code.
"Professor McGonagall," he heard Theresa exclaim.
"Miss Wilford, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall greeted somewhat warily. "Why are you trying to get into the headmaster's office?"
Draco shot Theresa a hopeless glance.
"Well, you see, Professor," Theresa lied, taking on a half excited look, "I received word from an anonymous source that one of my sisters is still alive, and I was trying to get into Professor Snape's office to ask him if I could take a few weeks to pursue it."
"And what about you?" McGonagall turned to Draco. "Why are you looking so desperate?"
Draco glanced down at his hand, which was still clasping Theresa's, and said firmly, "We're friends."
If they could have, Professor McGonagall's eyebrows would have shot to the moon. They rose unnaturally high on her forehead, but before she could say anything, Theresa begged, "You could give me permission to look into it, couldn't you, Professor?"
"No," McGonagall sighed. "I'm afraid not . . . follow me." She turned to the gargoyle. "Dark Death."
The gargoyle sprang aside.
Murmuring hatred of Snape's new passwords, McGonagall led the way onto the staircase and climbed while it rose. "I need to have a quick word with Professor Snape," she said over her shoulder. "If you could wait outside while we speak—"
She barged in the door without knocking, slamming it behind her. Draco got the feeling she was a lot angrier than she was showing. He winced again as the Dark Mark seared.
A few minutes later, the Transfiguration professor stalked out, again slamming the door behind her, and stormed down the staircase looking thoroughly miffed. Theresa knocked on the door.
"Come in," Snape called.
Draco entered, letting go of Theresa's hand, and went up to Snape's desk. "It hurts," he said shortly, pulling up his sleeve.
"Put that away!" Snape sounded panicked as he stared behind Draco at Theresa.
"I know what he is, Professor," Theresa said softly. "I am choosing to ignore that black thing on his arm; I hardly ever see it anyway."
"Then close the door," Snape commanded. "I have something to tell you. Draco, you can leave. I'll talk to you later."
Theresa coughed, shutting the door. "Excuse me? Draco's not going anywhere! What you have to say to me you can say to him too." She moved forward until she was next to Draco. He put his arm around her shoulders. They both gave Snape defiant looks.
"Fine," Snape sighed at last. "If you insist. Sit down, though." He flicked his wand and chairs crashed into the backs of their knees, making them sit. Draco slipped his arm over the armrest and found Theresa's hand. She gripped it tightly, the only thing telling him that she was nervous.
Snape stood and began pacing behind his desk. "This is going to come as a surprise for you," he said. "Whatever you do, don't cast any spells, or the castle is liable to explode. Theresa!" When he said her name he spun to face her. "Have you ever wondered why I never give you detention for mouthing off?"
"I'd been wondering that, sir," Draco volunteered, raising his hand. A withering glance from Snape made him lower it.
"Yes," Theresa said, frowning slightly.
"Would you like to know?" Snape offered.
"Yes," Tess repeated, an edge creeping into her tone.
Snape took a deep breath. "I am your father, Theresa Emily Mica Eleanor Olive Ingrid Wilford."
A/N: I like lots of middle names. Please don't judge. :)