Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression
Bastille 'Four Walls' – In cold blood hand you up.
Chapter 12:
I wake up disoriented. Sunlight glares through my closed eyelids. I slowly open my eyes, squinting at the brightness, looking around the room — only the heap of scrolls on the desk finally makes me realize I am laying in Casper's bed, not my own or Debbie's. I groan, pulling his sheets over my face. I forgot to close the blinds yesterday, unaware that Casper's room is facing east. It can't be much later than 7am.
I sigh, briefly taking note of the comforting scent of the pillow my face is buried in, before groping for my wand on the bedside table. I point it blindly in the direction of the window, forcing the blinds to shoot down, but it's no help. Five minutes of tossing and turning later, I give up on trying to find sleep. My brain is too preoccupied with Blaise's tales of Hogwarts and Britain.
I can't shake the feeling of unease I have been feeling since he told me about the taboo on Voldemort's name. What if Harry and Hermione hadn't found out in time? What if Ron still doesn't know? What if he is captured and made to spill their plans to the Death Eaters? I try telling myself not to waste time on silly whataboutery and just be glad things have worked out so far. But the anxiety will not leave my stomach.
What about Draco? Or Lovegood's daughter? Or every single muggleborn in Europe? I groan again. There is nothing I can do from my safe little spot here anyway.
I flip back my covers and sit up on the edge of Casper's bed, cross-legged. I pull my bag towards me, fishing out the coins from my side pocket. Both are still unchanged. Three weeks that I haven't heard from Draco.
I push the coins into the pocket of my pajama pants and make my way out of the room on bare feet. The house is still, but for the faint snoring coming from Austin's room. The door to Debbie's room is shut, and I assume her and Blaise are both still fast asleep. I tiptoe down the stairs, avoiding the creaking steps, and past Casper on the sofa. As I predicted it is much too short for him; he is laying on his side with his knees sticking out, and his head bent forward uncomfortably to fit on the high armrest. I've lain down on that sofa before, I am short enough to fit snugly. But Casper looks like his back will be in pain for the rest of the year after one night like this.
A faint clanking coming from the kitchen makes me look up and my heart sink. Debbie is standing by the sink, her back to me, filling up the kettle.
"Hey," I whisper as I enter the kitchen. She turns her head, her eyes narrowed once she realizes who it is and she wordlessly turns back around. "Okay…" I stand beside her to pull a mug out of the kitchen cupboard next to her head, but still, she treats me like I do not exist. I sit it down on the kitchen counter, waiting for her to put the kettle on the stove. Instead, she proceeds to pour out half the contents of the kettle, leaving just enough for one mug. I purse my lips. "Look—" I start a little louder, but she interrupts me.
"I don't want to hear it," she forcefully pulls the kitchen cupboard open again, putting her own mug back into it, unused, and marches past me. I roll my eyes at her back, taking the kettle she's left on the counter, filling it back up and placing it on the stove.
"Don't let her get to you." I hear Casper's voice from the sofa.
"Hmpf," I say. "Coffee?"
"Sure."
I look over my shoulder, he is pushing himself up on his elbows, stretching his legs far over the armrest of the sofa he is laying on, a pained expression on his face that he quickly tries to hide when he sees me looking at him.
"I'll sleep on the sofa tonight," I say, spooning instant coffee powder into two mugs.
"Out of the question," he counters immediately.
"I'm tiny, I can fit anywhere. You don't have to ruin your back for me."
"Stop arguing, I told you I won't let you sleep on the sofa," he replies.
"Your back will hurt 'til next Christmas if you sleep on this for two weeks," I raise my eyebrow, nodding at the sofa he is still lying on, his legs, almost comically long, dangling off its edge.
"I'll go get an extra mattress today then," he says with a sigh.
"And put it where?" I ask. "There's not even space for a Christmas tree in here."
"There's enough space in my room," he says nonchalantly.
I am thankful that the kettle chooses this exact moment to start whistling, or I am sure Casper would have heard my heart leaping up my throat. I gulp, quickly grabbing a towel to pull the whistle off the kettle's spout so it won't wake the whole house. "Alright," I say, my back turned to him, willing my blood to leave my face again.
"If that's alright with you, obviously," he adds.
"No, that's fine," I try sounding as nonchalant as he did moments ago, but I don't get the chance to say much more anyway. I feel a burning sensation on the side of my left thigh. I pull the still warm coin out of my pocket.
No. Is all it said. I flip it over in my hand, it isn't dented, it isn't from Hermione. I gnaw at my lip, sliding the coin back into my pocket and picking up the kettle instead, to pour our coffee.
"Everything alright?" Casper asks.
"Yeah," I say with a sigh. "It's just Hermione." I take both mugs and walk over to Casper, handing him one of them.
"Thank you," but before he can say anything more, I am already half-way up the stairs. "Are you sure everything is okay?"
"Yes!" I say without turning towards him. I can hear the shower running in the bathroom. Austin hasn't stopped snoring, so I gather all my courage, swiftly knock on the door to Debbie's room and push it open, hoping for the best. I let out a sigh of relief when I see Blaise's head raising itself off the pillows.
"Is that for me?" he asks with a grin when he sees the mug in my hand.
I huff, "Sure."
He sits up in bed, patting the mattress next to him and takes the mug out of my hand.
"Debbie's in the shower, we have at least a couple minutes," I say, pulling Draco's coin out of my pocket and handing it to Blaise.
He looks down at it, turning it over in his hand. "Is this Draco's?" he asks.
I nod. "That's how we've been communicating," I say.
"I know, I've seen him use it in class. That's sneaky," his mouth twists into a half-smile. "Did he write that?"
"I asked him yesterday if everything was okay. This just came a minute ago," I pull my wand out of my pocket and wave it over the coin in Blaise's hand.
What's wrong?
Blaise almost drops the coin when it glows in his hand a moment later.
Death Eaters everywhere.
"Well, that's to be expected," Blaise says sarcastically.
"It's odd though," I say, glancing at Debbie's alarm clock. It's barely 7.30am here, 1.30 in the UK. "He only used to message at night when he was home over the summer."
Have you heard from Blaise?
"What are you insinuating?" Blaise asks, not lifting his eyes off the coin.
"Can never be too cautious," I mumble, waving my wand again.
Are you alone?
They're out on a mission. Comes the prompt response.
"You don't think it's him?" Blaise asks.
I ignore the unease in my stomach, trying to stay rational. "They haven't let him out of their sight since he got the mark, or he would've reached out sooner," I say.
And you're not with them? I send Draco.
Mother convinced them to let me stay home.
"Mother," Blaise mocks. "Yeah, that sounds like him."
I shoot him a quick look.
How?
"It's weird. I mean, why would they care about what his mother thinks or wants?"
She begged my father.
I bite the inside of my cheek, "I don't trust this."
Blaise beckons for my wand, and I give it to him. He waves it over the coin.
And your dad has that kind of authority now?
"Bit blunt," I mumble.
"Let him know you don't trust him," he gives me back my wand, along with the coin.
Clearly.
Blaise snorts, "I'd say that's him."
I frown up at him, but don't get the chance to reply to either him or Draco, as the latter's coin glows red hot again.
How's Blaise?
"He knows you're here," I say calmly.
"Even if, what can they do?" Blaise asks.
"We've had Death Eaters here before," I say. "Last summer, they followed us into a bar on my birthday, and they were lurking around all our houses. Probably still are…"
Blaise purses his lips. "Even if, what could they do?" he repeats.
I wave my wand over the coin.
He's not here.
Blaise slowly nods his approval. Draco only takes seconds to reply.
He didn't make it?
"He's worried," Blaise says.
"Cute," I say dryly. "Or fake, however you look at it."
But before we can debate any further, the door opens, and I instinctively close my fist around the coin. Debbie walks in, a towel around her body and her pajamas in one hand.
Her brows shoot together when she sees me. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing." I counter, but the fact that Blaise is looking at her like a deer in the headlights isn't helping. Her eyes flicker down to my closed fist and my other hand, still holding up my wand.
"That better be Hermione," she says dangerously low.
"Oh, come on!" Blaise flings his hands in the air, exasperated. "I'm old enough to look after myself. I was friends with Malfoy before, stop blaming her for this stupid—"
"Shut up." Debbie interrupts him. "You were doing just fine without that guy, in fact you were doing better. You almost didn't make it here because of him and had she not made you—"
"She didn't make me do anything!" Blaise shouts back. "Stop treating me like a five-year-old, I can make my own decisions." Debbie opens her mouth furiously, but Blaise won't let her retort. "She wouldn't even know Malfoy if I hadn't introduced them in the first place. You never thought about telling me off for that, did you? And look where that got her."
"Blaise..." I say quietly, but he puts a hand up to shush me.
"You didn't because she's old enough to make her own bloody decisions, as am I."
"She was in love with the guy and let him sweet-talk her into trusting him. Not your problem that it didn't end that well," she says snarkily, and I open my mouth in indignation.
"No, she's the only one who bothered listening to him," Blaise shoots back, getting off the bed to tower over his sister. "And if you bothered listening to her, you'd know how much trouble Malfoy's actually in and that she's the only other person I know who genuinely worries about him."
I follow Blaise and get off the bed, taking a breath to retort, but again I am interrupted by the door to Debbie's room opening.
"Awful lot of shouting." Austin's bed hair pokes through the door frame.
"Oh, stay out of this." Debbie snaps. "She doesn't care about Malfoy, he put her up to this," she points at Austin, and I let out a sigh of resignation, feeling my insides knot up.
"What?" Austin asks sleepily, pushing the door open a little further to lean against the door frame.
"What?" Blaise echoes him in disbelief, turning towards me.
"Austin asked her to keep track of Malfoy," Debbie continues. "She doesn't genuinely worry about anyone, she's spying on him. Isn't that right?" she says to me. I don't respond as three pairs of eyes fixate on me. "She doesn't care how much trouble he's in, she's too selfish to care about anyone but herself."
I snap. My voice is dangerously low as I say: "I'm selfish? Where were you then? What were you doing last New Year's? Weren't you supposed to keep an eye out for your friend, make sure your friend doesn't get into any trouble?" Debbie's face falls, but I don't care anymore. "Do with that whatever you want." I thrust Draco's coin into Debbie's hand, ignoring the look of repulsion on her face. "And leave me the fuck alone," I say to Debbie, before pushing past Austin, trying hard to ignore the bubble of guilt in my throat.
I march into Casper's room, slamming the door shut behind me and throwing myself onto his bed. I curl up on my side, feeling tears of anger stinging in my eyes. I bury my face in my hands, willing myself not to cry. If this is how she's going to twist things, she'll end up getting her way and not even Blaise would talk to me anymore. There's a swift knock on the door.
"Not now." My voice is shaky and muffled through my hands. I hear the door open anyway and look up.
"Could do with some clean clothes." Casper gently closes the door behind himself, and I sit up quickly, wiping my hands over my face.
"Of course, sorry," I mumble.
"I told you not to let her get to you," he says, a hint of humor in his voice. I huff and bury my face in my hands again, drawing a shaky breath. "Come here." He gently takes hold of my hand and pulls me to my feet. He places both my arms around his middle and loops his own around my shoulders, and I freeze for a moment, taken aback. He's rarely initiated bodily contact, and if he did it was never more than a hand on the small of my back after holding a door open for me. But I quickly unfreeze and sling my arms tighter around him when I feel his hand gently stroking the back of my head. "You two will be fine," he says.
I inhale deeply, nuzzling my face in his chest. "Mh." Was all the response I can muster.
"She'll come round. I was hoping Blaise could talk some sense into her, or at least act as a buffer between you too. I guess that backfired."
I shake my head, inadvertently wiping my tears on his shirt in the process. "Blaise is too close to—" I break off.
"Malfoy?" Casper asks.
"And Debbie has a point anyway," I mumble.
"Maybe. But not a point that warrants this strong a reaction." He pats the back of my head. "Now let's find me a spare mattress. I'll take you out to lunch, and you can forget about it for today."
Tensions don't ease over the next few days though. Debbie still refuses to exchange a word with me, although I have now given up on initiating a conversation in the first place. Blaise is acting more or less normal, but he doesn't mention Draco again and I also won't be the one initiating that conversation. I know he's kept the coin; I have seen him toy with it a few times. He doesn't have a wand, so I'm not sure if he's actually using it. I doubt Debbie would lend him hers, but I have a feeling Austin might have given Blaise his wand under supervision.
Austin, as a matter-of-fact, has turned quite short with me since he's caught us all arguing. The more time goes on, the more I start feeling like my connection to Draco is the only thing about me that interested him. Now that I no longer have that, he no longer seems to care whether I am even present. He now only ever asks me if I have heard anything from Hermione, if their plans have changed or if they are still planning on going to Godric's Hollow.
Only Casper is still talking to me normally. I have doubts; I feel like an outcast. I want him to drive me back to Salem, so I can spend Christmas there, with people who don't have a clue about Malfoy and the trouble he keeps on getting me into. But Casper keeps on telling me to hold on, give it some time, at least until Christmas. And he is the only reason I don't just get up and apparate myself there. Not because I believe he is right, but because I enjoy the time I get to spend with him.
We pretty much spend every waking moment with each other. We wake up in the same room, have breakfast together, he pushes me to leave the house for the day, only coming back in the evenings for an awkward dinner, followed by some mundane board game to keep us entertained. Blaise usually joins, making me feel a little less unwanted, despite the invisible wall of Malfoy still very present between us. Only the occasional look from Blaise tells me he hasn't forgotten my fight with his sister and what he now likely believes to be my true reason for speaking to Draco.
All in all, I have an enjoyable three days before Christmas, despite the frostiness in the house. I wake up before Casper on Christmas morning; we didn't do anything special on Christmas Eve, but he stayed up quite a while longer than anybody else in the house. I have an inkling he's been preparing the living room for Christmas morning, but I don't get a chance to find out just yet. I'm trying to tiptoe past Debbie's room, like I do every morning, when an arm shoots out of her door, grabs my hand and pulls me inside.
"Sorry," Blaise whispers apologetically, when I pull my arm out of his grip.
"What on-"
"Shh," he shushes me. "Debbie's downstairs making coffee. I just got this from Malfoy."
I take the coin he is holding out for me. I have to suppress a shudder when I read the words etched into it.
Your brother escaped.
I look up at Blaise, my mouth slightly open, dumbfounded. I close it slowly, holding my breath, unsure of what to say first. But my bewilderment is probably nothing next to Blaise's. I pull my wand out, lock Debbie's door and put a silencing charm over it. She can rip my head off once I open the door again, should she notice, but until then I don't care.
"He doesn't know he's talking to you?" I ask Blaise.
"I can't respond to him, can I? I don't have a wand," Blaise says. "He hasn't said anything since you gave it to me anyway. I just got this now."
I nod slowly, hiding my trembling hands in my pockets for a moment and pulling out Hermione's coin. I place both galleons on Debbie's desk. Hermione's is still sporting an inconspicuous message from the day before, Nothing to report, still hiding.
"Another one?" Blaise asks from behind me, and I turn around to look at him, wand slightly raised.
"If they don't grant you asylum…" I say slowly. "If they don't let you stay here and they send you back—" I break off, unsure of what to tell him. He already knows about Draco. If Blaise is to go back and be interrogated, Draco would be dead either way. "One second." I turn back around and wave my wand over Hermione's coin.
Are you two okay?
"If they make you go back and they capture you—If they interrogate you—"
"Whose coin is that?"
"I was going to tell you this anyway, but not before we're sure you don't have to go back," I say, turning towards him. "If the Death Eaters think you're involved in this in any way, it'll cost you your life."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"That's Hermione's coin."
Blaise glances passed me, his face blank as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I thought you hadn't heard from her," he says matter-of-factly.
"They would torture you if they thought you had anything to do with her."
He holds up a hand. "Start from the beginning. What is Draco talking about?"
I feel my jaw tense. "Hermione's with Harry," I say.
"Potter? That's no surprise."
I cock my head to the side, closing my eyes for a moment. "Blaise…"
"Hold on," he says in disbelief.
I nod and open my eyes again, looking up at Blaise's stunned expression. "Draco's talking about Harry," I say.
"What are you saying?"
"Sit down." I point at Debbie's bed, and Blaise does as he is told. I start from the very beginning. I tell him about Dumbledore, about my mother and what she's told me, about my actual mother giving me away when she knew she couldn't protect me any other way, about Fox taking us in and how I've only found all this out a few weeks before going to Hogwarts. Blaise listens without interrupting, his expression slowly changing from astonishment to disbelief.
"And you told Malfoy and not me?" He finally asks when I am done.
"I didn't tell him, per se." I sigh.
His features darken considerably. "What did he do?"
I bite my lip. "He's a Legilimens."
"And he just—"
I nod, cutting Blaise off mid-sentence. "I wasn't going to give him the time of day after that, but he had something in hand against me."
"He made you go out with him?!"
I shake my head vigorously. "No," I say quickly. "Never anything like that. I think he needed someone to talk to. He told me about his mother, and a couple other things, because he knew I wasn't going to snitch on him or he would tell the whole school about Harry. Or worse. Everything else just sort of… happened."
"What other things?"
"That's not for me to tell."
"I'm just trying to understand what on earth he could've possibly told you that would make you go back to him and openly admit to being with him."
"I never openly admitted to anything," I say forcefully. "That was his doing, remember? And it's over now anyway. I pity him Blaise, not much more."
His eyebrows shoot up. "If I had known—"
"It wouldn't have made a difference," I cross my arms in defiance and look at him for a silent moment, before turning around to the coins still lying motionless on the desk. Neither of them has changed. I wave my wand over Draco's.
What do you mean?
As always in these moments, he is quick to respond.
From Godric's Hollow.
A familiar, uneasy feeling spreads through me. They knew, again, somehow. They knew Harry would show up in Godric's Hollow. Just like they knew when Harry was going to be moved back in July.
"What were they doing there?" Blaise's confused voice says from just next to my ear, making me flinch. I didn't hear him getting up.
"I'm not sure," I say honestly. "How did they know?" I mumble.
"What do you mean?"
I don't respond right away, waving my wand over Hermione's coin instead. Hermione?! "How did they know Harry would show up at Godric's Hollow?" Blaise stays silent. "They're completely cut off from everybody else, as far as I know. Hermione told me they were planning on going there a couple of days ago—"
"Who did you tell?" Blaise sits down in Debbie's chair, looking up at me.
"Austin and Casper," I say. "Debbie might have overheard something, but she would never… And I didn't lose a word about this anywhere outside of this house."
"Austin works for the MACUSA," Blaise says matter-of-factly. "He wouldn't even have the time to spy for You-Know-Who."
I exchange a look with Blaise and then slowly lift my eyes to the door. "Casper wouldn't…" I mumble, that same uneasy feeling slowly tugging at my heart.
"He seems pretty interested in you," Blaise says. "Not saying he couldn't have a genuine interest in you," he continues when he sees the frown on my face. "But you know why he's here, right?" I slowly shake my head no. "He's writing a dissertation on ancient wizarding families. He's doing research on our family at the moment, he tried getting Debbie to give him dad's contact details. He wants him to speak out publicly against our mother."
That takes a moment to sink in. I look down at the coins, lying innocently on Debbie's desk, both unchanged. "That's why she hates him so much," I mumble, and then a little louder. "I'm going back to Salem. You keep hold of this one." I hand him Draco's coin. Blaise doesn't object. "I'll come see you before your hearing, but I can't stay here, I'm sorry." I have to swallow hard to keep my voice from cracking.
"Want me to distract him while you get your stuff?"
I look at him for a moment, eyes stinging. "I need to tell Austin before I leave, he'll handle it."
Blaise simply nods. I tiptoe back to Casper's room. Casper is still fast asleep, laying on his back, one foot sticking out of his covers and hanging off the single mattress we got together just a few days ago. He looks innocent enough in his sleep, yet my heart is hammering away in my chest.
I wave my wand across the room in a sweeping motion, hoping my things gather themselves as quietly as possible. They stuff themselves in my bag, one last sock cramming itself into a side pocket, and my bag zips itself up in one brute motion. I freeze at the sound. Casper turns around in his sleep, but thankfully doesn't wake up. I sneak around his mattress, pick the bag off his bed, and make my way out the door, softly closing it behind me.
Heart still beating like a drum, I swiftly knock on Austin's door. He takes a moment to open it.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" I ask when I am greeted by an irked look on his face.
"Where are you going?" he asks, spotting the bag in my hand.
"Back to Salem," I say, side-eyeing Casper's door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Austin says.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to start. "Voldemort attacked Harry last night," I say, Austin frowns at me. "I don't know how he could have known. Hermione and Harry aren't in touch with anybody else. I didn't tell anyone except you and Casper, and—"
"You think it's Casper." Austin cuts me off. I nod. He shoots a quick look at his own door. "Alright. I'll take you to Salem."
"It's fine, I can go on my own," I say, but he shakes his head.
"I'll take you. I'll need to discuss this with Madam Fox anyway, sooner rather than later."
"Okay," I say.
I follow him downstairs where we pull our shoes on in silence. Debbie is sitting on the sofa, a coffee mug in one hand and the television on. She looks up when we come downstairs but directs her eyes straight back to the TV when she catches a glimpse of me. I roll my eyes at the back of her head and follow Austin outside wordlessly. He takes my hand in a strong grip, and I feel the familiar squeeze of darkness as we apparate away.