"To be able to forget means sanity." - The Star Rover, Jack London
"You're back again," he said to the animal.
All the otter did was tilt its head at him and stare.
"Why?" he asked. He started to laugh a humourless laugh. "Why am I even talking to a fucking animal?"
The otter just stared.
"Ridiculous." He muttered. He glanced back at the Manor; once always a dark place, it looked ten times creepier these days. He looked back at the otter. "Fucking ridiculous."
The otter just stared.
"Whatever." He turned away. With a slight shake of his head, he walked back to the Manor. Fantastic. Living with the Dark Lord was slowly making him go out of his mind.
The otter just stared.
"Since when did otters even come to these types of places?" he said, folding his arms. "Aren't you meant to be near rivers or something?"
The otter just stared.
He glanced behind him again and bent down so he was level with it. "You don't know how much trouble I would be in if they saw me here. They'd think I've gone soft."
Still staring, the otter tilted its head again, clearly asking for a reason.
"The house is full of Death Eaters. Like me," he added as an afterthought. "The Dark Lord's not in there right now but a meeting just finished so it's still crawling with the people."
The otter's small eyes darted to his arm as if it knew what he meant.
"You want to see?" he asked bitterly. He flicked his left sleeve of his robes so the stupid animal could get a glance. He covered it up again. "There."
The otter looked back at his face again and he swore he saw the eyes widen and water.
"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he said aloud. "I'm fine. I don't care about the Mark. I'm one of them."
The otter just stared.
"I'm going," he said firmly. He stood up again, brushing dirt of his immaculate black robes. He turned and walked back to the Manor.
The otter just stared.
"You remind me of someone, you know."
The otter turned to stare at him.
"Yeah. I knew this girl with really bushy hair. Like, really bushy. It was so annoying if you sat behind her in class." He didn't smile and his face remained emotionless, but there was a flicker in his eyes as he remembered. "And, Merlin, she was so obnoxious. And stubborn. And just fucking annoying, in general."
The otter just stared.
"Anyway," he continued. "I remember one time we did a raid. Father brought me along since the Dark Lord was adamant I was to go. We brought some Dementors, too -" he shuddered, "- And we found a group of them. So we let the Dementors loose and they were about to attack but then one of the girls - the same one - casted a Patronus charm. And it was an otter."
The otter just stared.
"I've got to go again. Maybe tomorrow." He stood up and walked away.
Watching him go, the otter all but smiled.
He didn't return the next day because he couldn't. The otter didn't return either. The Final Battle happened. His side lost. The Dark Lord fell.
He didn't return the next day because he was being held in Azkaban whilst waiting for his trial.
He didn't return the day after because he was being trialed.
He didn't return the day after because the Wizengamot was still arguing on whether they should clear him of charges.
He didn't return the day after because he was too busy fighting for his mother not to be locked up in Azkaban too. He didn't bother with his father.
On the sixth day, he returned back to the Manor to make sure his mother was comfortable.
He walked back into the back garden again. His eyes drifted to where the otter usually was to find it absent. With a sigh, he turned away again.
There was a rustle of leaves and he spun around again to see the otter. He gave a small smile involuntarily and he could feel the muscles in his jaw aching from the lack of movement.
"You're back," he said and he was sure his voice sounded semi-relieved.
He was sure the otter would just stare as it had done for the last few months but it surprised him by given the smallest, most hesitant nods. His eyes narrowed and he watched it for a while in confusion. He came to conclude he had only imagined it.
That was until the otter began to change.
"What the bloody fuck?" He stumbled backwards, his wand whipping out of his robe pocket. He raised his wand but paused it halfway through the air. Because there, right in front of him, exactly where the otter had been only ten seconds earlier, was a girl.
Not any girl, but Hermione sodding Granger.
"What the fuck?" he repeated. Though he didn't raise the wand any higher, he didn't seem ready to put it away already.
"Hear me out," she said quickly. She had the courtesy to look guilty and sheepish.
He scowled. "How about you start explaining how the fuck you just turned from an otter?"
She shifted, chewing on her lip. "Damnit, I knew you'd act something like this but-"
"Answer me, Granger."
She took a deep breath. "I'm an Animagus."
He snorted. "How informative. Tell me why you've been stalking me in disguise for the last few months."
"I have not been -" she stopped at the look on his face.
"Spying a better word?" he sneered.
"I wasn't spying either! If I was spying, your side would've been taken down the first chance we got!" she replied indignantly. "I just saw you a couple of months ago and you looked, I don't know, sad so I transformed and followed you."
"That's classified as stalking," he pointed out. His face suddenly changed from anger to horror. "I wasn't sad."
"Yes, you were." She tilted her chin, gaining her confidence back. "But that was okay. You told me - the otter, that is - over the last few months now, how you feel."
"Listen here, Granger," he took a step forward, his teeth gritted. "Just because I told mindless crap to what I thought was an animal, doesn't mean you know me. Got that?"
To her credit, she stood her ground. "No, you listen to me, Malfoy-"
He laughed, one that sounded hollow even to his own ears. "Listen to you? Are you serious? You're the one who's been creepily following me around for the last couple of months, ignore the fact that the Dark Lord was less than a mile from you most of the time -"
"He couldn't have found me because I was in my Animagus form!" she shrilled.
"When did you even become one, anyway?" he said impatiently. "It seems highly unlikely for you to have been one in Hogwarts, even you."
"For your information, I managed to start the process right at the end of our sixth year and throughout my time on the run," she said huffily. "Ron and Harry helped me out when we were camping."
"Great, I needed to know your life story," he replied in a bored voice. A voice from inside called his name. "Whatever, Granger, just stay away from me. Don't come near me again."
She opened her mouth to come back with a retort, but he had already turned away and walking back inside. However, as he got to the door, he paused and shifted on his feet to look at her once more.
"Don't tell anyone." His voice was low.
She sighed. "Don't worry, I won't."
He watched her turn back into an otter and entered the Manor again.