Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression
Warpaint 'Billie Holiday' – Companion.
Chapter 8:
It takes me two days to realize Draco hasn't sent me a single message since he went to Hogwarts and I'm not sure how I feel about it. My own time has been taken up by classes and over twenty additional people in the house. Privacy is scarce, especially with Aithne's new habit of breathing down my neck every chance she gets. She's curious about the coins, openly wondering about what I'm doing with them. Thankfully, she hasn't gone as far as telling Zoe and Maddison, the other two girls in her year, about any of this. She's probably hoping to gain my trust, but Debbie keeps her at bay.
Aithne doesn't even know who Harry is to me, let alone the details of what happened the previous year. The girls have been briefed before I came back at the beginning of summer, but for all they know I just fell victim to a freak werewolf attack. Sharing a room with her makes it incredibly difficult to keep secrets. It's challenging messaging Hermione as it is, but Draco is a whole other story. I can message Hermione whenever Debbie is around; Aithne respects her authority. But Debbie doesn't know the extent of my conversations with Draco and even if she did, I wouldn't want her watching his messages appear. He's my little secret for now.
I carry Draco's coin with me in the pocket of my skirt all of Wednesday, after locking myself in a bathroom in the morning to send him one quick, innocent sounding message How's Hogwarts? He usually responds around eight pm - two am his time, but I can't be sure he'll be doing the same now that he is back at school. I lock myself in the bathroom between each period, checking the coin, but to no avail. All it gets me are weird looks from Aithne by the afternoon. I used to love how close knit our house is, but it makes staying unnoticed a little problematic.
"I'm going to take a bath." I finally say, shortly before 8pm, slamming my potions book shut on my desk.
"Sure." Aithne says innocently from her bed. She's pretending to read, but I notice her eyes following me as I cross the room.
I double lock the bathroom door and put a silencing charm on it for good measure. I pull Draco's galleon out of my pocket and place it on the edge of the bathtub. By the time the tub is full, I still have no reply and my feet are impatiently tapping on the white tiles. I strip down and let myself glide into the hot water, picking up the coin and waving my wand over it.
Everything okay?
Not now.
I almost drop the coin in my bath. Am I being too pushy? Before I can question myself any further though, the galleon glows again.
Sorry.
I frown.
What's wrong? I send back.
No privacy.
I almost roll my eyes, but instead I send: Lock yourself in a bathroom.
He doesn't respond by the time I finish my bath. I dry myself off, slip into my pajamas and go back into my shared room. I slide Draco's coin under my pillow when Aithne goes into the bathroom herself, and there is still not a word from him.
I have three pages full of notes by now, and it is high time I send those to Austin. I wait until the shower starts and slip the lot out of my Charms book. Tying them into a roll with a piece of string, I then go outside onto the balcony and whistle for the school owl to come. She flies off with a swoosh and I go to sleep before Aithne reemerges.
I am woken up by something burning my cheek. The sun has yet to come up outside and I can barely make out the time in the moonlight. It's 2.13 am. I feel for my wand on my bedside table and pull the sheets over my head before lightening its tip.
I'm being watched.
I frown at it. Surely, he isn't being watched in the bathroom.
What do you mean?
I can't trust anyone.
Now he's sounding paranoid. I extinguish my wand and pull the covers back down. Aithne's rhythmic breathing tells me she's asleep, so I quietly slip out of my bed and tiptoe to the door. I've lived here long enough to know which floorboards creak and which steps on the stairs are safe to step on and stay unnoticed. I sneak upstairs, take a right, away from any bedrooms and lock myself in the library. It isn't as big of a library as Hogwarts', but it is decent enough. The room takes up almost half of the entire floor, looking out onto the front lawn and the greenhouse on the eastern side.
I double lock and silence the door and sit down at one of the desks against a wall far enough from the door so the light I turn on doesn't shine through below it.
Who?
His next four messages come in quick succession, with only a few seconds between them for me to read:
Crabbe, Goyle.
They're Death Eaters.
They've been told to keep an eye on me.
Won't even let me shower in peace.
My jaw clenches. He can't catch a break, can he? I creep over to a shelf on the wall, directly to the right of the door. It holds rolls of parchment, quills, ink, and any other supplies one might need. I sit back down and start my next sheet of notes for Austin before responding.
Where are you now?
Arithmancy. They're too stupid for that.
I raise my eyebrows.
You're not being watched?
Don't think so.
This is a dangerous game to play. Who knows what he'll be accused of if they find him chatting with someone through a coin.
That doesn't mean I want him to stop…
What about Blaise?
He takes a moment to respond.
Won't talk to me.
I can't say I'm all that surprised, but Blaise and Draco are childhood friends. Surely, Blaise wouldn't push Draco away if he knew what had led him to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts Castle only a few short months ago - but I have an inkling he doesn't.
Have you told him?
His response is too quick for him not to have understood:
Told him what?
I have to think for a moment to find a way to phrase my answer without risking offence. I can't outright say what I mean; if he is caught with it on a coin, he'll be in more trouble than I'd liked to imagine. So, I opt instead for:
He'd understand.
It's too risky.
Of course he understood what I meant. I sigh. If he really is being followed by his own classmates every step he takes, there is little chance of him not being overheard if he is to tell Blaise anything. But Draco needs Blaise now more than ever, he needs support from somewhere. I start biting on the inside of my cheek, but the rattling of the doorknob quickly pulls me out of my thoughts. I hastily fold up the parchment, stuffing it into my pocket along with the coin, just as a swift knock on the door echoes through the room.
"Who's in there?"
I exhale in relief; it's my mother's voice. I walk over to the door in a few quick strides and open it just a crack.
"What are you doing in there?" She stands in the hallway in a deep purple robe, her feet bare and her hair as unkempt as ever. She never caught me out of bed before.
"I was talking to Hermione," I whisper.
Her face relaxes instantly. "Can't you do that during the day?" She asks.
I sigh. "I got a message from her in the middle of the night. I didn't want to wake Aithne."
"Did something happen?" My mother says, her voice soft but concerned.
I shake my head. "They haven't moved since last time," I tell her truthfully, I spoke to Hermione just the day before. "Ron's still not much better, but they have no idea what's going on. She was just checking if I had any news."
My mother shoots a quick glance over her shoulder, before looking back at me with a faint smile. "Alright then, love," she squeezes my arm gently. "Just make sure none of the other girls see you, before they get any ideas."
I smiled back at her. "I'll be done in a minute."
I close the door softly as my mother walks back down the hallway, past the stairs and to her room. I let out a puff of air and move back to the desk. Draco's last message hasn't changed. I wave my wand over the coin one last time, before switching off the light.
Have to go. Stay safe.
Draco's messages become much scarcer after that, the only chance he gets to send me anything is during his Arithmancy lessons. He shares everything else with at least one of the two oafs. They barely ever get off his back from what he tells me. They aren't the smartest, it took Draco less than two hours after boarding the Hogwarts Express to figure out what they are up to. Goyle tried following him into the bathroom, refusing to leave his side. They've both taken the Mark over the summer, and they are trying to pressure Draco into doing the same. It's getting gradually more dangerous for him to refuse. His father demanded he take it before going back to school, but his mother stepped in, saving him for now.
Blaise keeps to himself apparently. He never speaks to any of his classmates, hiding behind piles of books in the library whenever he isn't attending class, eating or sleeping. I've asked about him at least once per conversation. And after weeks of me asking him to do so, Draco has finally tried speaking to Blaise, but was interrupted by Crabbe. I still dutifully jot everything he says down, periodically sending owls out to Austin.
Hermione's messages, on the other hand, aren't very informative. Her, Harry and Ron seem stuck in a rut of hiding out in their tent, going up and down the country, changing locations every day in the hopes of not getting caught. I'm their primary source of information, although occasionally, Hermione manages to steal a Daily Prophet out of a wizarding family's trash.
The news is depressing. Muggleborns are now quite literally being hunted down and the media has stopped its little game of pretend. A new profession has emerged. Some wizards in the UK have made it their jobs to round up fugitives and deliver them to the ministry. They call themselves Snatchers and they're being openly praised in The Prophet.
On our side of the big lake, things seem to have calmed down entirely though. The Death Eaters still haven't shown up outside Salem; at least if they have, we haven't noticed them. They've vanished from outside Debbie's house. She no longer needs to cast disillusionment charms on herself whenever she goes outside and by the end of September, my mother feels reassured enough to let me spend the weekend with her. Casper dutifully picks his old job back up, fetching me on Friday evenings and bringing me back on Sunday afternoons.
The more time passes, the more relaxed I feel in my routine. I'm almost back to my old life. I feel safe; there is nothing threatening me, no one hunting me down or even looking for me. I'm a normal girl, save for my blind eye and my secret coin conversations. I feel so comfortable, I even take up Casper's offer of getting dinner with him on Friday evenings before driving to Debbie's. Never anything fancy or too formal, they rarely include more than a po-boy and a coke, but it feels special to me nonetheless.
I feel safe around Casper, and it isn't just the fact that he's not involved with Voldemort in any way. He's a calming presence wherever he goes, unless Debbie is around to bully him, and he tends to have a soothing effect on me if ever I am anxious on a Friday night. Not this particular Friday night as I am waiting for my oyster loaf though.
"Are you still in touch with Malfoy?" He asks nonchalantly.
I snort into my drink, coughing some of it back up and causing the Pepsi to prickle up my nose. "What?" I stammer, clearing my throat even though it's clearly too late to feign ignorance.
"Malfoy," he repeats calmly. "Are you still in touch with him?"
I take a moment to dab at the wet patch on my shirt with a napkin. I feel myself slowly starting to blush, Casper is the last person I want to explain my relationship to Malfoy to. As far as he's concerned, Malfoy doesn't even exist.
I nod.
"Why?"
I glance up at him. "Austin asked me to," I say. Casper's brows furrow immediately, and I already start regretting telling him. "Don't tell him I told you that," I quickly ad.
He stays silent for a moment, eyeing me, his brows still furrowed, before he gives a curt nod. "Austin wants you to spy on him," he states slowly.
I hold his gaze and nod as curtly as he did moments ago.
"And Malfoy trusts you enough to reveal relevant information to you?" His left brow rises just the slightest bit and I feel my heart sink. "What happened between you two? If I may ask."
I feel more heat rising in my face and finally look down at my hands. "Not all that much," I mumble, but continue a little louder when Casper doesn't respond. "I guess we had a bit of a thing going on last year… But then he smuggled a bunch of Death Eaters into the school, including a werewolf who gave me this, so that - that was that. Thank you," I'm interrupted by a waiter, placing two plates in front of us, a distraction I gratefully accept.
"You were talking to him before Austin asked you to spy on him though," Casper presses on, finally averting his eyes off me and onto his food.
"Sporadically, I told you," I say bluntly.
"So, you can't be resenting him too much," he persists.
I shoot him a heated look. "I won't ever see him again, so what does it matter?"
Now it's Casper's turn to clear his throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he says, "I won't mention him again."
"It really doesn't matter," I say a little more softly, looking into Casper's eyes. "I'm just keeping this up to do Austin a favor, it really isn't anything to worry about."
"Okay," he replies, holding my gaze, before giving me a short, reassuring smile.
The closer we get to Halloween though, the more stressed Draco sounds and the less Hermione responds. I grow fidgety, when by October 27th I haven't heard from her in over a week. I've sent multiple messages, but never get a word back. Debbie and I have scanned The Prophet and The Quibbler meticulously front to back, but there isn't a word about Harry except for the usual leaflet saying he's still a fugitive.
Finally, when I'm sitting in the library again in the early hours of Thursday morning and after my eighth message in three days, her coin glows.
Hey, it's Harry.
My heart plummets. Has Hermione been caught? Did they run into Snatchers? Are they hurt, or worse? I respond immediately, abandoning Draco's coin for now.
What happened?!
My heart races in the few moments it takes Harry to answer my question.
Ron left.
I let out a breath of air, relief rushing through me for a moment, before the reality of his message hits me.
Left how? I ask.
Got mad and left. Harry's answer comes.
I let myself sink back in my chair, biting the nail of my thumb and thinking. Thinking about what to say, why Ron could possibly be stupid enough to leave Harry and Hermione to their own devices.
Why?
Frustration, I think. Just as quickly as his message appears, it's replaced by another one. We're stuck.
I draw breath through my nose, noticing a sniffle and the slight twinge of tears in the corners of my eyes. No wonder Hermione has been silent. I still remember her reaction when Ron started going out with Lavender Brown last year. I can only imagine how she feels now that he's abandoned her and Harry. Hermione is tough enough, she won't be hung up on a heart break for too long - no, she's probably furious by now.
I dab at the corners of my eyes with the hem of my sleeve.
How are you? I send Harry.
I'm okay.
I know it's a lie. His best friend has left him, and Harry is more hot-headed than Hermione could ever be.
And Hermione?
Hasn't spoken a word since.
She's angry. I don't need to tell Harry, he can probably feel it radiate off her all day long. I bite down on my cheek.
What if he comes back?
Harry takes a moment to respond.
He won't find us.
I groan in frustration. Of course, they have to keep moving. I can't believe he'd be this stupid. What's his plan now? Go back to Hogwarts? To his parents? He can't, they're linked to The Order, they're probably being watched. School attendance has been made mandatory. If he's seen outside school, he would land himself on the Ministry's wanted list immediately, probably at number 2, right under Harry. I rub my temple and pick up my wand.
What's your plan?
Hermione has always been as vague as possible about their plans. She hasn't even said a single word about their plan to infiltrate the ministry, not even hinting at having found a Horcrux. But I know that Harry's a little more reckless, and sure enough:
Maybe Godric's Hollow.
The town our parents lived in. Considering what they are looking for, not the worst idea.
When?
Still need to convince Hermione.
I frown. It's worth a shot. They have nothing else to go on, so I'm surprised to hear Hermione isn't ready to go.
Why doesn't she want to go?
But before Harry can answer, I'm distracted by the glowing of Draco's coin. I haven't responded to his last message, and I immediately feel a hint of guilt in my stomach. He was telling me about Goyle repeatedly trying to barge in on him showering under the pretense of needing the toilet.
I'm on detention duty tonight.
My stomach twists. I know what that means. Detention isn't simply writing lines, cleaning or helping a professor with mundane tasks anymore. Students in detention are made subject to the Cruciatus curse. If more than one student is in detention, they are forced to perform it on each other. If not, the prefects are responsible for doing so.
But I can't respond. Harry answered again:
She thinks it's too risky.
She has a point, but the alternative is sitting around and doing nothing from the looks of it. That wouldn't get them anywhere.
Do you have any other lead? I send back.
No.
I sigh, playing with the coin in my hand. In all honesty, I have no idea what to tell either of them.
Be careful. I send Harry.
Always. He responds and I stow the coin away in my pocket, concentrating on Draco's again.
Pretend you're ill.
You know that won't work.
I do know, but that's no reason to snap at me. He's gotten increasingly shorter with me in the last few weeks. He hates it and I know it without him needing to tell me.
Have you tried Blaise again?
No.
I don't get much further than that with him that night, and I barely manage to get any sleep once I make it back to bed. I silently brood, mulling over both conversations in my head all through Thursday and Friday. I leave the house with barely a word to my mother and silently sit next to Casper after agreeing to sea food for dinner.
"Alright, what's wrong?" Casper asks, after I still haven't said anything twenty minutes into the drive.
I take a deep breath, deciding on the safer option of the two. "Ron left," I say simply.
I don't need to look at Casper to notice him tensing up.
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"I was messaging with Harry last night," I say. "He told me Ron left. He got frustrated, they still haven't made any progress since the ministry. They've just been hiding, biding their time, and trying to think of where to go. He got angry and just… Left them."
Casper stays silent for a moment. "How is he?"
I turn my head so I can see him. "Harry?" He nods. "He says he's fine. I don't think he is though."
"And Hermione?"
"Furious. I think…" I trail off.
Casper stays quiet again, concentrating on traffic and clearly mulling my story over in his head. "Do you want to go straight to the house then?" He finally asks. "Talk to Debbie?"
I bite my lip before muttering "Yeah," grateful for his understanding.
He makes a U-turn the next chance he gets and drives us to the house he's sharing with Debbie and Austin. He doesn't say another word, but he doesn't seem upset either. He leaves me to my own thoughts in comfortable silence, letting me know everything is fine by putting a gentle hand on my back when he leads me into the house.
"You guys are early!" Debbie's face falls when she sees mine and I nod up the stairs for her to follow me. "What did he do?" She says sternly, closing the door behind herself.
"What?" I ask.
"Casper."
"Nothing," I say, irritated. She still hasn't gotten over her dislike for him.
She falters. "Sorry."
I sigh, sitting down to explain what happened to Harry and Hermione. Her demeanor becomes more serious as we talk, but she doesn't know what to do either. We don't have many options from this far away anyway.
"Anything else?" She asks, when we've mulled the topic over for long enough.
Yes. Draco. I want to say, but she'd lynch me on the spot if I went in like this.
"Have you talked to Blaise lately?" I ask.
She shrugs. "Here and there," she says. "They're intercepting owls, so I can't send him anything the normal way. But he got himself a post box in the nearest muggle town. Whenever they have a Hogsmeade weekend, he apparates there. I hear from him every two weeks or so."
I raise my eyebrows. "And that works?" I ask.
"So far, we never got caught."
I hesitate. "Can you get a message to him for me?" I ask.
"Sure, what do you need to tell him?"
"I'll write it down myself," I say simply. "Don't worry about it."
Her eyes narrow for a moment, but she doesn't argue, and I trust her enough not to try and read what I have to say before sending it off. I know she probably is suspicious, but she never shows it. Clearly Casper hasn't said a word to her either and I silently thank him for it.
I proceed to ask her how Blaise is doing, listening to her account of Hogwarts life, pretending I haven't already heard all of it, before shooing her out of the room, so I can write a letter to Blaise.