𝐵𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 | 𝒟.𝑀.

17 | ﴾ A Pile of Bones ﴿

When the train pulled up to the castle I was ready to explode. The entire ride had been stiff and excruciating. People had made zero effort to mask their gossiping, and Zabini had continuously made jokes about marriage. Every time Draco ignored him or yelled at him it just threw fuel on the fire. I was pinned against the window like a chihuahua in a small handbag, a pet as Malfoy had pointed out. I hadn't said a word, just watched them take shots at each other.

When we reached the common room I wanted to turn inside out at the entry wall. Malfoy looked down at me with similar exhaustion, "Go to bed." He went in first and practically ran to his room. I did the same, skipping stairs two at a time, desperate to get out of the clothing that smelled like Narcissa and into my own bed.

I opened the door to my shared room and all of the girls looked up with judgement. Hilda instead stared at the floor. I was having trouble discerning what was going through her head.

Was she mad at me? Was she uncomfortable?

I went to my trunk and tugged out a pink cami nightgown, quickly changing out of the ridiculously expensive black clothing with the Malfoy crest on it. Pansy and the other girls sent me looks filled with questions and mockery, whispering amongst themselves. I sat on the edge of my bed feeling relaxation slowly creeping over me for the first time that day. I was so numb from everything that had already happened that I didn't really register the insults. The familiar smell of the dormitory was such a smack to my senses after being trapped in the Malfoy Manor for over a month and a half. Hilda was on her bed, her arms folded behind her head, staring at her bed canopy with intense focus. She was angry, confirmed.

"Hilda..." I began, with no real sense of where I was going with the sentence. It was more of a probe than anything.

She glanced sideways at me with a look that could turn clay to stone, "Oh, hey, how's your life going Madeleine. Anything new to report?"

I fumbled with the hem of my nightdress. "You know I 'ave a lot to say. I'm sorry..."

She looked at me with an icy glare. "No? No way!" Her sarcasm was precarious and I felt instantly exposed and helpless. Several other girls looked our way, and snickers erupted around the room.

"Can we just.. talk?" I begged in a low voice. The desperation in my tone went unconcealed. She turned over on her side away from me and I did the same, clutching at my pillows and fighting tears sliding down my face.

۞۞۞۞۞

The first day back was severely punishing. Malfoy had made sure to wait at the base of the girl's stairs in the morning so he could escort me directly to potions class like a criminal at a jail. The Slytherin common room was filled with whispering, and the hallways were even worse where people from other houses stared without hesitation. I felt like a dog on a leash and the embarrassment was so intense that all I could bring myself to do was look at the ground utterly horrified while he tugged me around, either holding my hand or putting his arm around my neck.

Hilda had refused to speak to me since the night of my arrival back, leaving me swimming in a pool of anxiety. I needed the support of my best friend more than ever. I was chained to a maniac and I was in serious trouble if I couldn't count on anyone helping me get free.

As the days crept by I gradually began struggling to eat and sleep. Malfoy was constantly at my side like a hawk and I was withering away from the pressure and isolation, my normally glowing face had sunken - my skin was persistently puffy from crying and dark circles were brewing below my golden eyes. 

Malfoy went on with his life as normal not even giving me a shred of consolation; he continued to bully younger years and laugh with his friends, marching me through the hallways with a display of authority. Harry and his Gryffindor crew consistently gawked at me in the great hall during meals, not even bothering to mask their chattering and glances. Hermione looked pallid and resentful and my remorse reached an all time high that I hadn't come clean with her in the girl's lavatory the day she confronted me about who gave me the bequeathment mark.