Three
It doesn't scare her as much as she thought to be back. Yes, her limbs may have tingled with the urge to flee, but Lorelei was no coward. But, she wasn't stupid either.
Malfoy Manor had changed, there was no doubt about it. It had transformed her into a mouse, a mouse that was crawling mindlessly into a lion's den. Lorelei read about how Lucius Malfoy had been caught red-handed as a Death Eater, and how Voldemort had finally returned. She lived vicariously through newspapers and magazines, mainly the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. Lorelei knew about the chances that now, Malfoy Manor could be filled with people, monsters, and predators who wished nothing else but to kill.
The girls release their mother's arm and Lorelei watches tentatively as Vivian steps forwards, closer towards the iron gates. She has the urge to warn her, as if the gates would come alive and crush her to death — as if she had not seen them before, had not familiarising herself with their shape. Lorelei turns around and faces the thick, green forest. Materials, she'd distract herself with materials.
Without a signal, the gates open, producing an eerie creak that invites them in. The Manor had not aged a single bit in all those years. Lorelei pushes all thoughts of hesitating away, far into the depths of her mind and stares blankly forwards. She imagines a Venus flytrap opening its head and releasing a seductive scent, any insect that would happen to land inside getting slowly devoured when they realised they could not escape.
"Come, girls," Vivian calls, the first to take a step. None of them wastes a second hesitating.
Gravel crunches under their feet as they make their way towards the Manor. Lorelei keeps her head down despite how much desire she has to look around. She didn't come here to look, she came for her materials and that was it. As they walk, Lorelei projects the Manor from her memory, tracing her steps. The image was clearer in her mind there than in reality, it was warmer and brighter there too. Somewhere, in a time long gone, Malfoy Manor could have been considered Lorelei's second home, much to the displeasure of Lucius Malfoy. But, as Lorelei would soon be frequently reminding herself, those times were gone, gone for good. Malfoy Manor was not a home, it was headquarters. It was a house of darkness and death, not warmth and brightness. Never again. Malfoy Manor would not manifest anything good, at least not for a long, long time.
Lorelei's feet made contact with the familiar marble steps leading to the entrance. This was it, there was certainly no turning back now.
The last few hours pass in a blur, and now, Lorelei sits on the edge of a bed.
"Lorelei, will you unpack, dear?" Vivian's voice flutters inside the grand bedroom the sisters were sharing. Clean sheets and waking dust filling their lungs. Daphne and Astoria had already begun to settle in.
"She hasn't done anything for the past ten minutes," Astoria reports dramatically and stops unpacking her clothes to stare at her sister's idle frame. Lorelei sits still on a plush mattress, biting the nail on her thumb. It was all happening too quickly. Time moved too fast, and the sun sets without so much as a warning. Life didn't real; one moment she was at home, arguing with her parents about letters, and the next she was here, sulking in one of Malfoy Manor's guest bedrooms. Her mind is torn between what she knows and what she should do. She wants to become eleven again when life was easier — when she was still friends with—
"Lorelei," Vivian warns when she notices. Lorelei peers up at her mother, afraid of what expression her face would hold. "Fingers," she motions towards Lorelei's chewing and Lorelei ceases it immediately. She brings herself to fold her arms and continues to stay still, though her foot twitches. Vivian lets out a sigh. "Could you please just… unpack—?"
Something clicks in her head.
"Mum?" Lorelei stands suddenly and walks towards her mother's figure. Vivian takes a step back, overwhelmed by her daughter's sudden movement. Lorelei reaches her in no time. "Mum, what are we really doing here?" She whispers the question, the desperation practically dripping from her vowels. She does not want Daphne and Astoria to hear. Lorelei searches her mother's eyes and all she can see is… fear. Lorelei furrows her eyebrows and her stomach drops. Apart from the time Lorelei came home with a broken arm from falling off a tree, she had never seen her mother truly afraid. "Mum, what's wrong?"
Vivian squeezes her eyes shut and a million voices tell her to stay silent. Vivian opens her eyes. "Draco," she says simply.
"What?"
"Narcissa wrote to me," Vivian begins, making sure to keep her voice low. She fights a battle in her mind and wins, but at what cost? "Draco is going to be turned into— into a Death Eater, and— and Narcissa does not want to handle it alone. You know, with Lucius being gone, she's terrified for her son's life, Lorelei," Vivian watches her daughter carefully, aware of the deep history the two children shared.
Lorelei registers her mother's words a thousand times over before she shakes her head.
"Sure," Lorelei whispers, not asking the spite in her voice.
Was she supposed to give a fuck about what was happening to Draco Malfoy? What was so important and pivotal about him turning into a Death Eater that required the entire Greengrass bloodline to be present? It was bullshit and Lorelei tries her best not to burst out laughing. Disappointment masks Lorelei's features and she shakes her head, leaving her mother in the dust as she walks away.
"Lorrie—!" Vivian tries. Lorelei simply strides from the room, heaving the doors open and letting them slam shut, leaving all memory of Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters and her Mother on the other side.
Lorelei navigates her way down the dark hall and as she is about to turn a corner, a pair of arguing voices echo down, into her ears. She suppresses the urge to rip them off the sides of her head. They are loud enough for her to hear what they are talking about.
"Why are they here, Mother?" Lorelei wants to hear the answer. It's Draco's voice, deeper since the last time Lorelei had heard it four years ago. Goosebumps race down her neck. Instinctively, she sinks herself against a door and doesn't dare peer around to get a better look. Getting caught eavesdropping would not be an ideal first impression for a guest. With every passing second, her heart works faster and faster. "We already have enough on our hands, why add more burdens, more accountability? Even if Father isn't here, doesn't mean you can do whatever you want." His voice sounds rehearsed.
"Draco, listen to me," Narcissa hisses, desperate. Lorelei nearly doesn't hear her speak. "Your Father is not here for a reason; Lucius failed him. We knew the consequences, he knew the consequences and he has left us to deal with them. The Dark Lord—," she whispers the name, "—will turn you."
Draco sneers, he is equally as desperate. "I am aware, Mother."
So it was true, Lorelei thinks, he'll become a Death Eater.
She was more disappointed than surprised, it felt different to hear him admit it himself. She couldn't imagine the boy he was all those years ago, one who she shared whispers with between the gap underneath his bed, turning into a monster, a Death Eater. Lorelei felt the sympathy begin to erupt from her heart but she puts it out before it could fully form. He did not deserve her sympathy, not after what he did, after the shit he pulled. He is not the same, kind boy she once knew, Draco was something greater or lesser — either way, it did not matter.
The mother and son continue arguing.
"Then you must understand!" Narcissa cries, her frustration getting the better of her. "You understand why the Greengrasses are here! Vivian— Vivian is my… friend! Draco, I cannot be alone through this! Oh, if Lucius was here—!"
"Mother," Draco begins softly, so soft it doesn't sound like him speaking at all. For a second, he was the boy from her memories. "Youhave me."
Narcissa sighs and Lorelei can imagine her shaking her head. "Draco, you are not enough."
Bitch, Lorelei thinks. Even though she hated him, no one deserved to be spoken to that way. Lorelei, out of all people, would have understood that better than anyone. Being a Squid came with its… perks, and that was probably one of the better reasons she wasn't a part of society. There is silence and Lorelei holds in the urge to walk up to the pair and strike Narcissa across her face.
At last, Draco speaks. He appears unaffected. He must always appear unaffected. His mother's remarks go over his head, they always do. He takes the conversation topic off himself, the attention unbearable. He speaks slowly and carefully and for a second, he sounds like his father. "Mother, are you that selfish to bring in a family, who has nothing to do with any of this nonsense, into this house, endangering their kids… Mother, for fuck's sake–,"
Swearing was his mistake.
Narcissa slaps him and they are both taken aback. She has never slapped her son. The sharp sound of skin–against–skin makes Lorelei flinch. Draco's cheek sears and reddens and for a fragment of a second, he does not feel safe. He does not know who the woman in front of him is, only that she has hurt him. Then, it all disappears just as quickly as it came, only the burn lingering for a little longer.
Lorelei peeks around the corner. Narcissa is pointing a shaking finger at her son's face, her eyes glossy. "Don't you swear at me, Draco," she sneers. A dark warning despite the way her voice falters. Draco lowers his head. He nearly lost control, again. Despite the calmness of his exterior, his blood boils through his veins as his heart continues to beat out of control at a rate that should not be humanly possible.
"Mother," Draco begins slowly as if another word, any word would tick her off. He is still looking down. "The Greengrasses have a Squib, in their family—," Lorelei furrows her eyebrows, "—you have put her in danger by inviting them here."
Narcissa opens her mouth to say something, but no words leave. She is trapped in a limbo between ignorance and truth. Not yet, she thinks. This is no time to tell him the truth. Narcissa huffs and averts her gaze. "You mustn't blame me for Vivian's choices, bringing— bringing her children was was her decision." Lorelei can only wonder why Narcissa would lie.
Draco doesn't want to hear it. He dares to look up slightly. "Enough with the excuses, Mother," he sighs, his tone gentle despite everything. Narcissa was a ticking time bomb, only anything could have set her off, especially if it had to do with him. Normally, Lucius would be exploding in her place, but he was not here to do that. "What do you think the Dark Lord and his followers would do if they see her? When they find out what she is… Mother, she is nothing but a rag doll in their eyes—,"
"And what is she to you, Draco?" Narcissa inquires challengingly. She stares deeply into her son, testing. Something in her tone expects him to say only the words she wants to hear. She does not expect disappointment from her only child.
Draco is silent for a moment before he speaks. Lorelei can hear his voice getting closer and closer, but she doesn't think to move. She doesn't think that he may have been walking right towards her. "You know what she means to me, Mother." Over his shoulder, he says, "Nothing."
Before Lorelei realises she needs to get up and flee the scene, he's there. In front of her. His expression is blank until his eyebrows pull down and furrow in confusion and another emotion that could have been better said as rage.
"I—," Lorelei tries, scurrying to her feet. She nearly trips over her dress. Draco watches her, unmoving, unimpressed and silent. At that moment, he truly was a snake.
"Draco… " Narcissa calls from around the corner, her footsteps getting closer by the second. The two teenagers' attention shifts onto her approaching figure and before they can be discovered, Draco brushes past Lorelei and unlocks the door to his room, pulling her in with him.
The door closes almost as quickly as it had opened and Lorelei stumbles onto the floor with a soft thump. She looks up, about to say something, only to be met with Draco and his finger against his lips, shushing her. Lorelei bites her tongue, reminded of their old antics. They used to hide in parts of the Manor, away from Draco's parents. The two wait until Narcissa's footsteps echo away, far from Draco's room, to relax again.
"You were eavesdropping," Draco finally states lowly, his expression still blank. He watches her every movement as she gets up. She has changed, they both have, in more ways than one. Draco's eyes never leave her face, even for a second. She changed her glasses, he thinks. Draco tries to be unreadable, and Lorelei wants to laugh. He was an enigma and she had all the keys she needed to break him.
Lorelei shrugs as she brushes off her dress, "Sure?" She looks away and focuses her attention on his room. It feels smaller.
"So you heard everything," Draco says, more of a statement than a question.
"Well," Lorelei begins, she brushes her thumb against the carvings on his bedpost. "I heard most of it."
There is silence, the hot, clammy, uncomfortable kind, for a few seconds before Draco sighs loudly, Lorelei looks at him again. She watches as he makes his way to his bed, closer to her and begins busying himself by unpacking his suitcase which had been placed on it. The air was pregnant with the weight of all their unspoken questions and Lorelei wants to bombard him with them. She wants to push him against the wall and demand answers, to ask what happened. She wants to ask him if he had thought about her just as much as she had thought about him.
Lorelei's eyes carefully analyse Draco's hands as they unload the clothes from his suitcase. He's wearing a ring, one that has a snake on it.
"I can't believe you called me a rag doll," is all she has the heart to say. Draco doesn't stop, his focus is still set on unpacking.
"I meant it," he says. Lorelei feels nothing. "The Dark Lord has made Malfoy Manor headquarters for his… whatever the fuck he's doing," A muscle in his jaw clenches.
Lorelei looks forwards. She doesn't know what to tell him. Her mind thinks a million sentences, none of which her ego would allow her to say. It's the first conversation they've had in nearly half a decade and it's as if they had never been friends to begin with. Lorelei gulps. It was hard to pretend they were strangers. "When are you, ah… getting marked?"
Draco turns to face her, slowly, holding her gaze. "Soon," he says. "You think I want to do this."
Lorelei furrows her eyebrows, she didn't remember him for being so cryptic. "Are you asking me, or are you telling me?"
"I'm telling you," Draco clarifies, watching as Lorelei pushes her glasses up her nose. He wants her to know something, but it was hard considering he didn't know what it was himself. "You think I want to do this, don't you?"
Lorelei can't help but chuckle, he was still as bold as ever. "Don't get me wrong, Malfoy," she says, not using his first name. He doesn't deserve the satisfaction. "But, I don't really… care about what you want. I'm just here for my materials and, all I wanted to know was when I'd have to be out of the Manor so I wouldn't need to witness your… transformation, or is there some special name for getting marked—,"
"You act as if I'm turning into a werewolf,"
"… No," she says, taking her time. Lorelei doesn't smile, they don't break eye contact. She was wasting time being here, with him, talking. It was pointless chatter and it wasn't going to fix whatever friendship between them had been broken, Draco knew it too. She could have been foraging instead of participating in whatever this was. "What you're turning into is much worse than just some overgrown mutt,"
Draco frowns. "Was that supposed to hurt my feelings?" He asks in a sarcastic tone, placing a hand over his heart. Lorelei stares at it.
"Like I'd care enough to even consider hurting them," She huffs and spins around to make her way towards the door, not bothering to say another word. Draco turning into a Death Eater was his problem, and she wasn't about to make it turn into one of her own. The letter she had been writing earlier that morning was still in her pocket; she had more pressing matters on her hands. He was a big boy, he could deal with it by himself. He didn't need her anymore, perhaps he never did.
Perhaps it was she who needed him…
Before Lorelei could leave, the sound of Draco's voice stops her in her tracks. "Mind telling me where you're going?"
Lorelei doesn't turn around to look at him when she answers, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I would," Draco says, surprising her. His tone dips into something final, demanding almost. Lorelei turns her head slightly, but she still doesn't look. Draco takes that as his cue to continue. "You shouldn't wander these halls by yourself, it isn't safe,"
Lorelei furrows her eyebrows at his claims. "Oh, and it's safe for you?" She chuckles. "Don't put your knickers in a twist. I know where to go, and besides, I won't be wandering the halls." Lorelei holds in the urge to argue, to tell him that she's been here before, walked the halls hundreds of times because he knows. He was with her.
Draco produces a sigh that lingers on the border of a groan. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just tell me where you're going,"
Lorelei shakes her head and pushes the door open. Over her shoulder, she says, "The forest." The only reason she came in the first place.
She needed set her priorities straight, and they did not include conversing with Draco Malfoy.