Pros & Cons

24. The Shift

This will be the last mature content warning. Lets be honest you knew what you signed up for :)

Saying the next week was uncomfortable would've been an understatement. McLaggen was right about one thing: she was so lonely. She'd avoided the trio like the plague and anytime she had the misfortune of locking eyes with them all she received was a tight lip or narrowed eyes. Anyone even remotely close to the trio kept their distance too: Ginny, Neville––even Luna seemed hesitant to approach her.

Violet hadn't spoken to Malfoy since the whole thing with McLaggen. It's not like she didn't want to, in an odd turn of events Malfoy seemed to be the only thing comforting in Violet's life. Comforting and Malfoy didn't sound like perfect synonyms, yet somehow he just was.

Either way he'd made himself scarce over the past week. The most she'd seen of him was a flash of blonde in a corridor or a bowed head at dinner.

The rest of her week was spent in the library finalising her notes for her next meeting with Lance. Occasionally she would find a book on wandless magic, skimming the pages and seeing if she possessed any of the talents written about. From what she'd read the sensation of wandless magic was your emotions melting down through your arm and out of your hand, but she was sure hers was different.

For her it only ever seemed to happen when she was enraged. It wasn't a melting of emotions per say, more of a tingling heat at her fingertips. As if anything she touched would just set alight.

She hadn't done enough reading to fully understand so instead pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on building her case.

Wednesday approached at a sluggish rate, so when dawn finally broke Violet wasted no time in changing into her blazer and skirt before leaving the dorm. Her satchel was slung over her shoulder packed to the brim with notes, book excerpts, questions and witness accounts.

The pace of her steps down the corridor caused her ponytail to occasionally swing in front of her face and a curl would brush her cheek. She slowed when she neared McGonagall's office, realising she probably wasn't expecting her quite so early.

The light of dawn had barely reached the windows, casting pale shadows across the corridor. Violet stepped towards one of the ceiling high windows and looked out across the lake. The Hogwarts grounds were beautiful, the sunlight reflected off of windows and the orange light of morning against the cold stone buildings gave it a heavenly look.

Her trance was broken by footsteps patting down the adjacent corridor. Violet's curiosity got the better of her and she ghosted her fingers over the top of her wand, which was tucked into the waistband of her skirt. Taking delicate, soundless steps she turned the corner and saw a flash of black whip around the far end of the corridor.

Violet broke into a small jog and when she'd reached a jutted out piece of wall pressed her back to it and peered round once more.

It was Malfoy. He was in his all black suit and he seemed to be leaving somewhere––his steps lacked purpose or direction. Violet pondered approaching him, she wanted to know what he was doing out at this hour and she hadn't really seen him in so long. Her body ached for him.

But what if he started asking questions she couldn't answer? She couldn't tell him why she was out at this hour either, nor why she was dressed so formally once again.

Her situation with Malfoy only worked because neither of them asked questions. They didn't snoop, they both accepted there were things neither party could divulge––it's the only way it could ever work. The truth would shatter everything.

Yet Violet was so desperate to know what he was up to. She knew it would be something to do with You-Know-Who, perhaps something for him. If Malfoy was in danger Violet was sure she wanted to know about it. Still, he would never tell her.