Finding Herself || Draco Malfoy [BOOK 2]

Year 5: Chapter 1

MAYA'S POINT OF VIEW

When I woke up again, I was hyperventilating—hard. I couldn't shake the pain and torture that dream had put me through. I could feel the pain in Cedric's voice, and the anger behind his words. Eventually, after about ten minutes, I calmed myself down, and properly reflect on the dream.

Cedric's death didn't feel real to me. It felt like this was all one big fucked up dream, and Cedric was just fine at Hogwarts—where he was supposed to be.

But it wasn't like that.

Cedric Diggory was dead. I watched as Wormtail murdered him directly in front of me. He could have had such a good life ahead of him, and he had such big dreams that could have taken him far.

That couldn't happen now, and as Cedric had said in my dream—it was my fault.

"The dream wasn't real," I thought comfortingly, clutching a pillow and holding it to my chest. "It was a dream, and dreams aren't real."

But the more I thought about the dream, the more that his words really settled in my mind. If I hadn't saved Cedric from the Cruciatus Curse or suggested that we all grabbed the cup, Cedric Diggory would be alive and I probably would be back at Hogwarts by now.

Speaking of my location—where the hell was I?

The last place that I expected to be in was a comfortable bed, surrounded by comfortable pillows, blankets, and sunshine pouring into the room—but then again—here I was. I was wearing silk purple pajamas—something that I most definitely wasn't wearing before—and there was a blue cast that was wrapped around my left ankle; the one I had broken at the graveyard.

There was a bandage wrapped around the spider bite I'd gotten during the tournament, and a lot of the minor scrapes and scratches that were on my body were covered with Rugrats-themed bandaids.

The last thing that I could remember was that I passed out in the woods; how the fuck did I end up in someone's bed?

"Did someone fucking change me?" I thought, and the thought immediately made me squirm, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I prayed that it wasn't some dirty, crusty old man that took me in, change my clothes, and make me his mistress.

Old men can be weird—just look at Lester's creepy ass.

Honestly, though, the room that I was in didn't give off creepy old man vibes. It looked like a typical guest room in a modern-day muggle house, with a small TV on a stand, linen curtains that lined a bay window, a small bedside table, and even a litter box in the corner that seemed to have just been cleaned.

"Where the hell am I?" I thought. "What if this is a trap?"

Immediately, I tensed up and looked around the room for anything that could have been suspicious. Muggle medical books, a few bandages, a dresser with a mirror, a closet, and a small snow globe on top of the bedside table...

Not a thing seemed suspicious.

I looked at the benches on the bay window and noticed that my wand was sitting on top of it, along with my clothes I wore for the tournament and my Doc Martens. I quickly stood up and snatched my wand, before limping my way out into the hallway. It was a light baby blue hallway that was narrow, yet well lit, with a window shining sunlight right into it.

There were six white doors along the hallway, along with two staircases at each end. One staircase led down, probably to the kitchen or living room, and one staircase led upwards, probably to an attic of some sort.