AN: Aye happy sunday, I guess? Been struggling with this chapter so I apologize in advance. Oh and Thank you Foxtrot1702, keeping me motivated when I start to drag on writing, it really does help. Thanks everyone else for reading, I greatly appriciate it. Follow/Fav/Review.
Picking his nose, bored out of his mind, Mortimer was watching Potter as he acted like a rabid beast. Lockhart, reenacting the time he 'saved' a village from a werewolf attack, demonstrated with pizazz, strutting his body around in an animated motion.
And Draco was enjoying ever second of it. Holding in his laughter, his attention was solely fixated on the student, teacher play Lockhart has created. It was high in entertainment as his eyes never left the pair. Red as a tomato, Draco couldn't hold it any longer.
The bell rang.
Draco bursts out laughing. Holding his stomach and wiping a single tear, he hoots as he tries to regain control.
Mortimer wasn't so entertained.
He wanted to get out as fast as he could. So, he grabs Draco by his left hand, dragging him out of the class as his jeering chortling echoes, leaving Lockhart's classroom.
Ron and Hermione gave the pair a glare, which was ignored on Mortimer's part.
When they made to the halls, Mortimer waited for Draco to compose himself. He was almost tempted to slap his cousin upside the head, his immaturity getting more annoying with the time.
"Are you done?" Mortimer asked, looking towards his right, a few students, shrugging, walked by and noticed Draco's loud cackles. "People are watching."
"I can't help it!" He giggles. "That was too good – C'mon mortimer, how did you see that and NOT think it was hilarious! He made Potter look like a complete fool!" He starts laughing once more.
There was no response. Folding his arms, Mortimer's patience was wearing down. "It's not funny."
Once Draco realized the seriousness in his voice, he suddenly found it not so funny. "What's wrong?"
The question alone had Mortimer's face hardening with vexation. "I can't tell you. Not here."
Bopping his head, he understood the implications. It was a one of those conversations, one's not meant for public ears.
Traveling with Draco, they headed straight through the first-floor corridors and took the stairs down in the dungeons. They had passed familiar faces, only acknowledging them with a simple nod. It didn't matter who saw, just that no body heard.
His hands were sweating in nervousness. Because of what had happened with Mrs. Norris, the jitters had only expanded across his body, added by the voice hidden behind the walls, increased.
Reaching the slytherin common room, there were a few students working on the left side corner, but paid little to no mind. Others were hanging back, lounging about. Daphne and Pansy were there, though, didn't say a word. The sullen cast on Mortimer's face told them they didn't want to be bothered. Most knew better when to not intervene, and this was one of those cases.
Climbing upstairs towards their dorms, they went inside to find it empty; good.
Closing the door quietly, Mortimer seals them in before turning to face Draco. "Have you been telling Theo that I'm the heir?"
For minute, Draco stood there quietly. If Mortimer didn't know better, he'd say his dear cousin was feeling a tad anxious.
Mortimer takes one step away from the door. "Well?"
"Not exactly." He quickly panicked, he shook head, huffing. "No – Wait, I –"
Losing patience, he cracked his neck as he waited for Draco to come up with a justification. But no matter how much he muttered and fumbled on his words, Mortimer couldn't seem to get a straight answer. "Theo seems to think you know who the heir is."
"That's because I do." He said quietly, playing his fingers, he couldn't face him. "And besides. . . is it so wrong to tell him? To tell anyone? You're the heir!"
"It isn't something to be proud of – To brag about. Do you not understand people want me dead just for being Lestrange's kid? What do you think will happen when they find out I'm related to the biggest bigot of all time?"
Draco brushed of his concern, crossing his arms. "Oh come off it. You don't have to pretend."
"Pretend? Pretend what?" Mortimer asked, his eyes turning into dark ice.
"The whole self-righteous thing. I won't tell Flich about Mrs. Norris, promise."
He didn't know what he had expected. Clenching his hands, Mortimer was stunned. (A liquid bridle path leading to the cat who was strung up from the torch bracket…) Did Draco really believe he was responsible for the attack? That Mortimer was the one to write those horrible words on the wall – To think he opened the chamber intentionally, and summon the monstrous beast, to hunt down and mangle any non-magical being.
In Draco's eyes, all of this was simply an act. An act to convince everyone Mortimer was this innocent little angel, capable of no harm. But behind closed doors, stood a boy, ready to finish what his parent's started.
An ache, seeing Draco jump for joy at the fear Granger must have felt. Like the other muggleborns, they too must've been worried for their own safety while wizards like Draco, paraded around in celebration.
He was hurt.
"You actually think that I'm responsible for what happened to Mrs. Norris?" The last part of his sentence sounded faint, pained.
Blind, Draco dared asks. "Who else could it be?"
Who else indeed. A ponderous question. Yet, Mortimer was more upset than anything right now.
Staring deep into Draco's silver eyes, he hummed uncommittally before nodding his head. "You, of all the rest, should know me better than that – I'd never thought you would see me as the type to believe any of that pureblood nonsense… They don't deserve that, they deserve better."
Draco stood silently. Appearing confused and rather dumbfounded, he couldn't seem to understand Mortimer's reason for defending these pathetic lowlifes that dared to call themselves wizards.
Confused and grumpy, he raised his voice. "How can you say that? After everything they did to you, what she did to you. You have every right to rid them."
Mortimer stared into nothingness for a little while, lost in thought. With both them refusing to say anything, it stayed quiet for a long time. Mortimer began to question the logic behind his answer. Every right to rid them… Draco said. Every right to rid every innocent child, adult, both old and young. The decision for that, solely based on the actions on one single person; Nana.
Because of Nana, every muggle, non-magical being, should all be erased, wiped-out from the depths of this world.
But why stop there?
Shouldn't wizards and witches get the same treatment? After all, they were the one's who let it happen. If they were so magical, why couldn't they see that one of their own had been trapped, imprisoned, tortured by said muggle. Aside from that little fact, he was still treated with the same bitter hate that Nana had given him. Despised for being the prodigy of a death eater and his unknown father.
A mountain of a list, there were many who should be paying. Yet, Mortimer couldn't find it in himself to do any of that. Despite everything that has happened to him, he wouldn't wish it onto another soul. His life was terrible, he knew this. But the people involved were far worse, they were garbage compared to him.
He would not stoop to their level. He would not be like Tom or Bellatrix. He would not let hatred mold him, control him like it did to others.
Mortimer was better than that. Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself. A constant reminder that he can't lose control, can't give in to the desires – No matter how appealing, mortimer will refuse to be that person.
Draco isn't to blame. His ignorance came from years of brainwashing, misinformation about non-magical beings. Watching them as if they were vermin, lower than the dirt beneath his feet. And unfortunately, there isn't anything Mortimer could do. Nothing he says will ever change his mind, so long as Draco remains close minded; he won't give him the answers. It is something Draco has to figure out on his own.
Facing his cousin one last time, Mortimer opens his mouth to speak, only to then close it shut.
Instead, he opens the door and closes it softly, leaving Draco with his own thoughts.
Barley making it out of the dungeons, he was at the first-floor when a familiar face approaches him.
"Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall calls from a short distance. "Headmaster Dumbledore has requested your presence – The password is Charm Choc."
Nodding his head he starts steering himself towards the moving staircase. Climbing all the way to the second-floor, he soon reaches the gargoyle corridor.
Coming to face the unmoving statues once again, they simply ignore him until he reaches the gargoyle guarding the staircase.
"Charm Choc." He grumbles while cracking his neck.
The golden stairs opens and unveils itself to the boy. Accepting the invitation, Mortimer climbs up before arriving to his office.
He isn't surprised so find the old man resting behind his overly large desk.
"Mr. Black, I apologize for not reaching out sooner. I have been preoccupied with other matters. But fortunately, time has been given to me in order to arrange this little reunion of ours." A light chuckle from the long bearded man. "All is well?"
Dumbledore lifts one of his hands, gesturing Mortimer to take a load off.
Resigning over a mulberry cushion chair, he leans back, avoiding the question.
"Everyone is talking about the chamber." Divulging the school's popular topic of the week. "Is it true?"
Dumbledore looks down at him. At the same time, Mortimer glances, noticing the lack of cheery emotion that was once there. "Perhaps? I will I admit, the subject is intriguing. You're ancestor has certainly made a long lasting impact, wouldn't you say? Yet, with the lack of evidence, there is nothing to suggest otherwise. Why? Is there something you'd like to share?"
"No." Sitting back, Mortimer throws his head back, facing the ceiling. There was minute of silence before speaking again. "Draco thinks I'm responsible."
"And it worries you?" Tilting his head, he observes the tired boy.
"Yes… It does." His head still facing up, he closes his eyes, trying to relax. "He nearly told Nott, it's only a matter of time before he tells the whole slytherin house that their precious heir has been here this whole time."
Grabbing a small piece of hard candy, Dumbledore casually puts it in his mouth. "Very concerning indeed. As blind as Draco is, he can not be blamed – Do you agree?"
"I know." Releasing a loud breath. "I'm trying to be patient – really, I am – but it's getting harder. He doesn't like it that I hang around other's who aren't from our house. He hates Granger for no reason, aside from being a muggleborn. Then there's the fact that he's up and giddy at the thought of me opening the chamber."
Dumbledore gave a sympathetic smile, the emotions Mortimer was expressing were very much real. "Yes, I heard you are quite the talk these days. Our very own Potion Master has talked highly of your talents, specifically your occlumency skills."
Lifting his head down, Mortimer scowls in skepticism. "He has?"
"In his own way." Folding his hands together, the boy rolls his eyes. "Although, seeing you now, I'd say the lessons have been helping."
"How can you tell?" Leaning forward out of his seat.
Tapping his chin slightly, he stares into the clouds. "Let's see. . . You have yet to raise your voice, demanding answers to unsolved questions. Oh! And you've avoided calling me 'old man' for the duration of our time." He shrugs. "Not that I'm complaining – I don't like being constantly reminded of my age."
Making a face, Mortimer didn't comment. Turning back to his original concern. "What should I do about Draco? He already knows too much. What if he tells everyone in the school? I'll be dead in a second."
A small hum, Dumbledore's soft accented voice came to advise the troubled boy. "Do you trust him?"
Frowning, he was wary. "I-I want to. . ." Looking down at his nail dented palms. The very idea had his heart racing as his face turned pale.
"You must not think so little of him. Young Malfoy is bright for his age. Very aware of your previous life, the difficulties and challenges faced, you trusted him enough to tell him this. If you continue to resist, you risk a sort of resentment on his part. In times, such as this, it is important you remain close to loved one's. Not many are so fortunate, other's are left in the dark to fend for themselves."
It was starting to dawn on him that Draco's involvement could not only put him in danger but the rest of his family too. There'd be public outrage over slytherin's descendant.
Some would expect high praises from a lost family, but no one ever thought to look at the other side of the radar. Those who no longer believed in the old tradition, a call to modernize the wizarding culture. Away from blood purities that divided an entire class of beings that happen to share the same world.
There was no pride in being so close minded. Salazar was wrong for believing, as was Tom, for stupidly following in his footsteps.
"Like Tom?"
Noticing the dissociation tone with his father, Dumbledore lowered his eyes in contemplation. "Like Tom. . ." He repeats.
Thinking about his words, Mortimer slumps right back down. The old man was basically telling him to have a little bit of faith. But there was no guarantee that Draco wouldn't open his trap. The ever lasting effects it will have on him would be dire and unrepairable. Mortimer felt helpless, he was doomed to an eternal life of long suffering, he just knew it.
Just then, a hand being offered to him, Dumbledore presents him with a small piece of candy. "Lemon Drop?"
Ugh… The people he has to deal with – Not wanting to read any deeper, he grabs the flavored candy and shoves it straight in his mouth before grumbling a simple 'thank you'.
There was a twinkle in his eye, a glimmer of hope for the slytherin heir. "Do not concern yourself. Mr. Malfoy cares for you, as do the rest. His intentions are merely clouded by values that were instilled by family belief. If anything, I suggest you educate your cousin. We are not so different by the blood that courses our veins – The honesty you show can open doors to new places that they never thought possible. Care for them my dear boy, love is very powerful thing."
If only Mortimer could share his enthusiasm. As of right now, he's never felt more resigned to his own fate. A sense of danger lingered, telling him to act now, to put a stop to it before Draco causes potential harm.
"I'll try." Mortimer prompted, not deterred by the inspirational advise the old man had given him. If there was something he had taken away from their conversation, it's patience.
But the unbearable amount of waiting had him shaking his right leg. What more could he do? Aside from watching Draco make a fool of himself, Mortimer thought about giving him space. Hopefully with the time given, it will be enough for his cousin to come to his senses.
Sitting across from Dumbledore, a deep stare was shared between the two. With the old man giving him a nod and smile, Mortimer only frowns, worried about the state he's left Draco in.
Leaving Dumbledore's office, he had nowhere else to go. Finishing the last of his classes, all that was left to do was to go back to the common room. But going there meant contact with Theo and the others. There was no doubt Nott had sensed there was something wrong with Draco.
Still, he wasn't in the mood to answer their nosy questions. Taking his time, he mopes in his steps, away from the gargoyle corridor and straight to the second-floor.
He tries rubbing off his tired eyes.
"What were you doing with Dumbledore?" It sounded near accusatorial that he had to pause.
Dragging down his fingers, Mortimer's colored specked vision became clear when he was faced with the annoying little ticks known as Potter and friends.
"Excuse me?" Mortimer sneered.
Weasley scoffs at him while Granger stood in the back, quiet, unsure if this was the right course. "Answer the question Black."
Mortimer managed to restrain himself from choking the redhead. "Mind your own business Weasley."
"What were you doing in his office?" Potter probed, continuing to stare him down.
Mortimer had thought about it, but only slightly before smirking. "I was discussing my plans for world domination."
"I knew it!" Shouted Ron, pointing his accusing finger, during which time Hermione had pinched the bridge of her nose while shaking her head.
"Ugh – Really Ron?" He hears Granger say, until she moves her attention towards him. "It's not everyday a student gets sent to the headmaster office. Don't you find it rather strange?"
Mortimer's expression dulled. Potter leers, waiting for him to respond. "What I find strange is a bunch of gryffindors following me, shoving their unwanted noses where it doesn't belong, thinking it's ok to accuse me of wrong doing. Leave me alone. I don't care what you people think, I have my own problems."
Harry was hesitant, it was easy to notice the small guilt forming. And yet, somehow had to nerve to ask. "Where's Malfoy?"
It was no wonder why Draco couldn't get over Potter, why he went out of his way to make him miserable. The moron couldn't leave his cousin – vice versa, Mortimer could never understand their rivalry.
"Another question that doesn't involve you." Folding his arms, their interrogation began to irritate him.
"Admit it – Malfoy is responsible for Mrs. Norris and you're covering for him." Ron's alleging that he knew more than he let on had Mortimer's eyes darkening in fury, though, kept it well hidden.
Months of occlumency training, Mortimer had not been fazed. "Heh – You really think highly of him? To think he's powerful enough to cast even the most advances of spells? With all that magic at his finger tips, the first thing he decides to do, with that power, is freeze a cat. . . That's what you're tell me?"
There was a quiet moment shared by the trio.
Hermione eyed her friends carefully before focusing on Mortimer. "It's about motive. We're both aware of Malfoy's hatred for muggleborns, it makes sense. I know you care for him, but if he's planning on hurting anyone, don't you think you have a responsibility to put a stop to it?"
His mouth was pressed into a thin line, while his shoulders were teeming with tension. Her answer targeted at the wrong person; it got him thinking about said responsibility. He felt a pang of guilt for refusing to act. Though, what could he do? Pick up the broken pieces his ancestors caused? The damage was too severe, unrepairable at this point, it'd be a miracle to get a decent smidge of its reputation back.
Draco's name shouldn't be dragged with his problems. No matter how much of a dolt he was, Mortimer cared deeply for his new found family.
"I'll admit, Draco can be many things. Spoiled, rude, vile, annoying – "
"A total git." Chimed Weasley.
"Exactly." Mortimer shamefully agreed. "But one thing he is not, a murderer. He doesn't have it in him. Setting aside this whole blood issue, Draco isn't capable of hurting anyone. If you knew him enough, you'll find him harmless – He's really all talk if I'm being truthful."
"And what about you?" Harry asked, Draco may or may not be the problem. But with Mortimer's eerie look, he felt the need to question Black. "What do you think about the chamber? With Mrs. Norris?"
Mortimer wondered the same thing. In connection with the voice, he was positive it had something to do with the attack.
His puzzled thoughts were interrupted by Ron's insulting behavior. "Bet you can't wait to get rid of Hermione and the rest of the muggleborns."
That comment alone caused his face to grow serious. Truly you could see by his glare. "Right now, I'd like to get rid of you Weasley." He took a step close to Potter and the others. "I'm warning you, leave us alone. We want nothing to do with you and your schemes. Muggle or not, I have no problems in pounding it through your skulls."
Mentally shaking himself, he stepped back. Ignoring the two idiots, his face turns soft once he faces Granger. "I'm sorry about what Draco called you – It may not mean much coming from me… still I think you deserve an apology."
Hermione wore the same expression of tenderness as she nods her head, accepting his words.
Potter and Weasley didn't dare say anything, Mortimer's shocking apology, there wasn't much to counter with. A Slytherin being kind to a Gryffindor? It was almost unheard of. Seeing it, the two were quick to silence themselves.
It became quite awkward that Mortimer took this as an indication to leave. Clearing his throat, "I'll see you around then." He exits the corridor, ignoring Potter and Weasley's inaudible gibberish.
Shifting towards the moving staircase, he planned on heading to the library. He fancied himself a walk so he decides taking the long road by going through the second-floor corridor.
With each step, he can see the top of the ceiling and the flying embers of fire resting on the side of the walls, burning each candlelight. Getting closer, two small figures were exposed. Squinting his eyes, he tries getting a better image, until he realizes it was Luna. However, she wasn't alone, she appeared to be talking to someone, or at least someone was talking to her.
Luna's dream-like face was attentive, but still, watching what was beyond her view.
It was Ginny. Talking while making small hand gestures in distress. Almost like she was trying to warn Luna about some unknown trouble.
Mortimer didn't want to interrupt the conversation. Rather than standing in the middle, he runs near a pillar. Treading lightly, he made sure not to make any noises that could spook the Weasley girl.
"…That isn't very nice Ginny." Hearing Luna say.
Ginny voice sounded urgent and frustrated. "Does it matter? Ron said he's dangerous, that you shouldn't be hanging around his sort – I don't want you to get hurt."
"He won't" Luna was confident, and rather chipper. "He's my friend."
There was denial in her tone. As he listened, Mortimer was rather bothered. "I'm your friend Luna. And as a friend I'm telling you that he's no good. His mother is evil and his father – " She shakes her head. "Well. . . who knows? But he's probably as bad."
"You shouldn't judge him." Luna stated, brushing off Ginny's surprised look. "Everyone else already does that – He's really nice, and he hasn't done anything – "
"Not yet." Ginny inserted grimly, her hands clenching together.
" – besides try and help. The fault of his parents shouldn't be passed on, it wouldn't be fair…"
Weasley's expression turned sour, seeing no point in further arguing against the ravenclaw. "Fine!" Stomping her foot, it was clear that she was upset. "But don't come crying to me when he and the other snakes start laughing at you."
Stunned to his core, he watches Ginny as she ran off, vanishing into the hallway. He didn't expect this kind of reaction not from Ginny, certainly not from Luna… It was odd, no one has ever stood up for him.
And in way, Mortimer was starting to appreciate her wacky, unusual, foreign behavior. Instead of seeing her as an annoying little fly, he finally realizes what it means to have a friend.
Luna let's her gaze wander around before turning around and waving. "Hello Mortimer."
Peeping, he sticks his head out. "Hey Luna."
"I hope Ginny didn't hurt your feelings." She told him. "She means well. Sadly, she's under the assumption that you are going to hurt me."
No surprise there. A lot of children believed it. They haven't been as vocal about it; as they use to be. Every now and then he would secretly hear the remarks they'd make regarding his parentage.
He's learned to live with it. "It's fine…" Even if it wasn't there isn't anything he could do about it. "I-I was going to the library. . ." He coughs nervously. "Want to come?"
A beaming smile, Luna folded her hands. "I'd like to." The two began to press on. "And maybe later I can show you my drawings – Show you how Blibbering Humdinger's look like."
Normally Mortimer would have rolled his eyes and try to get it over with. However, right now, he found himself looking forward to it. An opportunity to stop thinking and just enjoy the rest of the day with his friend.
"Aren't you going to watch Draco play?" Theo spoke from behind. "It's his first game against the gryffindors."
Shackling himself inside their dorm, Mortimer had refused to get out. He glued his body on to the mattress. "No."
"Seriously?" Adjusting his emerald scarf, Theo scoffs. "What's gotten into you two? You were fine one minute, the next you act as if he's betrayed you."
Ignoring his dorm mate, he stuff's his face deep inside the fabric of his pillow.
"Let's go Mortimer!" Grabbing his own pillow, Nott starts hitting his back using the cushion. "The girls are waiting for us."
"I don't care." Mortimer's supressed words came through, but only just.
Another soft hit to his bottom, Theo stops. "Even if you're mad with Draco, it would still be nice of you'd show your support for our house."
Tossing the pillow aside, Mortimer sat up, his hair was over the place. "I'm really not in the mood Theo."
Sitting on his bed, Theo perched himseld near the niddle of his matress. "Be honest with me Mortimer. What's really going on? You've been acting weird every since the school started to panic over the chamber."
The desire to turn invisible was not possible, and he couldn't very well tell Theo what was bothering him. Telling your friends you were related to one of the founding members of Hogwarts wasn't something you just blur out. And it wasn't just any memeber, it was one that cared only for its own kind, who believed in seperation.
It was important that no one finds out.
Many of Theo's questions were innocent enough, but were one's he couldn't very well answer. "It's nothing. . . just go downstairs, i'll be down in a minute."
Perhaps he still possessed the capacity to mentally face the day. He didn't like it. Regardless of what he felt, it was the only way to get Nott from asking too many questions.
When Theo left, Mortimer breathed heavily and got out of bed. A short pause, he eyed the small cabinet on the side of his bed where the glass cage rested. Tobey had yet to stop running in circles. He couldn't look away, his stomach fluttered briefly in nervousness. The lack of communication with his pet was worrying him.
Tobey had gone mute.
Still murmuring the words like, Evil, Danger, Walls, over and over again. Mortimer was unsure as how to snap him out of this entrancing state.
"Tobey..." He calls not, not expecting a response. "I'll be going out - Be back shortly."
". . ." Without interruption, Tobey loops around his cage.
Retriving his coat, gloves, and ear muffs, he heads down where the other's were waiting for him.
Mortimer's artifical sweet smile appeared as his eyes lit up. "I'm ready."
Tracey, approaching him, was suddenly pushed aside by Pansy who was holding something in her hands. "It's rather cold out today so I've brought you your scarf." Baring her teeth, she smiled brightly. "We wouldn't want you to get sick now would we?"
Sharing a quick look with his friends, they all gave him a half shrug. "Oh - Well, thanks Pansy." Taking the scarf, he wraps it around his neck.
"Anytime." Pansy said, flashing her eye lashes at him. "Would you sit next to me during the match? I'm sure Draco wouldn't mind."
"Hey - " Tracey began. Quickly, she was prevented from saying more when Daphne grabbed her elbow. She shook her head, telling her now wasn't the time.
Tracey appeared to want to protest, annoyed further, it wasn't until Daphne dragged her friend, going ahead from the group to get better seats.
"Not at all." He said under his breath, cursing im his mind, it was going to be a long game.
The conversation he had with Theo as they walked towards the school grounds was short and casual.
By the time they reached the quidditch pitch, the area had already been packed with students. The sun might of been out, but the winds today were anything but gentle. Breezy and quite chilly, most children wore their winter gear, warmly buddled up for the weather.
Pacing through the stands, it was a miracle they were able to find Daphne and Tracey already seated in the front booth.
The wind blowing hard, Pansy huddles close before letting out a loud squeak. "Suck it up Parkinson." Daphne says aloud.
Huffing, Pansy stuck her nose up. "That's easy for you to say Greengrass. It took me an hour to get my hair's volume the way I like it."
The girls arguing, "Help me..." Mortimer whispered to Theo.
In response, Nott laughs. "The game's about to begin."
And right he was as both teams took to the field, flying around the field. Madam Hooch headed towards the middle of the pitch, mortioning the captains to draw near.
Tracey shouts, clapping for her team. "There's Draco!"
She was right, he cpuld Draco not far from the other players, waiting for the whistle. They all took the skies and across the field when the game began.
At first everything appeared to be fine. Draco was doing a good job at keeping up. Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint were going at it trying to score a decent goal, with little success. The Weasley twins flew right in to knock out the bludger that were seemingly attacking Potter.
"Something ain't right there." A random student said from a few seats back.
Other children started to take notice when bludger was specifically targeting Harry and no one else. Both Fred and George were doing their best to get it out of his way.
Evetually the game had to be put on hold. The gryffindor team were discussing amongst themselves. Appearing nervous and weary, Mortimer could see Potter's determination as he spoke to Wood and the others.
When they were finished, Flint muttered something to Draco before continuing the game.
The crowd excited they cheered louder once they caught sight of the golden snitch. Draco must have seen it as he flew straight for it. However, Harry, with all his speed, manage to surpass him, getting close to it.
Thinking the game was over, Mortimer was surprised when Potter nearly fell off his broom. Coming back with a vengence, the buldger went for him again - Only this time, it knocked one of his arms, there was no doubt his arm had beem broken.
While all of this was happening to him, Draco was laughing at his misfortune. Teasing him, the dolt doesn't notice the snitch floating behind his head. And sadly for him, Potter did. He basically charged Draco, and out of fear, he moves away.
Thus, ending the game.
Potter had grabbed the golden snitch and the gryffindor's yelled in joy, winning the game. The fanatical crowd of fans clapped and cheered at the winning team. The Slytherin's were all but disappointed, frowning and groaning at the loss of their team.
Theo was one of those who watched and was letdown. "Boo!" He shouted. Tracey and Daphne sighed but weren't as vocal.
Mortimer felt a tad bit sorry for everyone. Seeing Flint as he scolded and yelled at Draco for missing the snitch certainly had him thinking about his treament towards his cousin.
There was shame in his silver eyes. Draco was red as a beet, embarrssment casted on his pale face. It seemed as he was on the verge of tears that it took Mortimer not to go and comfort him.
"Poor Draco." Mumbled Pansy. "He was doing so great... I hope he doesn't beat himself too hard."
"Yeah me too." Mortimer agrees, watching the slytherin team shaking their heads, throwing their gloves at him; shunning him.
Not caring about Potter, or Gilderoy Lockhart's sudden entrance, Mortimer decided to retrieve Draco from the field. "I'm going to go get Draco. You guys go ahead, we'll catch up later."
"Are you sure?" Tracey asked, not wanting him to go alone. Both Theo and Daphne felt the same. "Yeah, you don't have to go alone you know." Theo hinted.
"I'll be fine." Turning his head, Lockhart was attempting to heal Harry's broken arm. "We'll be fine."
They were reluctant at first. And after a few seconds of shared looks, they agree, watching him go.
In the boy's locker room, Draco sat alone. His hands were neatly folded together while pale eyes lowered to the floor.
"Hey..." Mortimer greeted, it was rather faint but was tolerable enough for him to hear.
"What do you want?" Draco didn't bother to look up.
Mortimer was never any good with cheering, so he found it hard to find the right words. "I came to see how you were doing."
"Slytherin lost because of me. Flint thinks i'm useless and the team hates me." Still not glancing from his position. "How do you think i'm doing?"
"Not too good, i'm guessing." Moving, he decided to sit next to him on the benches.
"I've been a real jerk." He starts to say.
Draco could help but agree. "Yeah, you have."
"I guess it's because i'm scared." Mortimer confessed.
This only seemed to confused Draco. "Why is that?"
Feeling the corner's of his mouth twitching, he says. "If you haven't noticed, i'm not actually well liked here."
There was intrigue as he spoke, it had his cousin wondering. "Because of Aunt Bella?"
Nodding his head. The subject had his heart racing. "She hurt a lot of people, innocent people. And because they can't get to her, they want to go through to me."
Expressing his worries, he hoped Draco would at least have a little bit of an understanding as to why he didn't want to be associated with the name Slytherin. "If they knew who I was, they'd make a connection with you-know-who. And if word spreads, imagine what they'd do to me. I'm an abomination, a product of the most vile, most hated wizards."
"You're not an abomination." Clenching his jaw, he disagreed.
"Not to you. To other's it's the reason they think i'm not allowed to live."
Draco blinks, he finally looks up. He sees the fear in Mortimer's dark eyes. "You think they would hurt you?"
Nodding his head, he rubs his neck. "It's already happened, remember? First year? I got beat up for being related to Lestrange. Telling them i'm slytherin's heir would be like a death sentence."
"I'm sorry." He whispered. He hadn't thought about the consequences, the effect it might of caused Mortimer. To see him so jumpy made him feel nervous as well. "I never thought about it. I just assumed you were ashamed..."
"Maybe I am. . . I'm not sure." Mortimer turns quiet.
Frowning, Draco appeared puzzled. "That's more than a reason to get back at them. They've treated you horribly, why wouldn't want to get back at them? Mudbloods - all of them, they deserve what they get."
"I'd be no better." He says quietly. "If I went around attacking everyone, they'll be right because it's what they expect from me. They expect me to be this conter copy of Bellatrix. Crazy, unstable, violent... I want them to see me as Mortimer, not a Black, or a Slytherin."
Draco stood up from his previous slump state. Offering his hand, Mortimer took it and the two left the locker the rooms. Mortimer was not use to the kindness from anyone, so he felt stiff, hesitating as his cousin patted his back.
"Let's go throw stuff at the great lake." Mortimer suggested. "Might make you feel better."
The blonde boy before him smirked, his eyes held to cherish the motive behind Mortimer's kind gesture. "Race you."