𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒽 | 𝒟.𝑀.

16 | ﴾ TimeTrap ﴿

Draco did in fact invite his friends over that Friday with the intention of driving me wild with envy. He'd made the fantastic calculation that my room was directly above his own and that I would hear everything. We were right back where we had been at the beginning of waking up; cutthroat and butting heads.

ItI had unfolded like an absolute lunatic on the lawn the previous week, and now the tension was higher than ever. Throughout the entire evening, I could hear music and people going out onto his balcony below mine to smoke. The stench of it rose through my open window and I found myself frequently going out onto my stoop to glare down at the invaders.

On one occasion I had come face to face with Blaise and Goyle a mere ten feet below me, and they had simply laughed at my irritated face as I clung to the frail black railing. I spent the evening pacing back and forth in aggravation, wanting to go down but knowing I wasn't really invited.

It was, with great relief, that a slight rap on my door finally indicated someone had decided to break off and bother me. I didn't care for what reason, simply that someone had come to interact at all.

When I opened it I was surprised by Hilda standing there with her ridiculous flask and darned in a bright orange dress. Her long brown hair was set to one side of her head in beautiful swirls and her dark blue eyes were accented with heavy makeup and large lashes. "My, my," she quipped in a seductive tone, her eyes wandering all over my incredibly stylized room, "They sure are treating you poorly here. Just look at this décor. How's it going, Frenchness?" She drifted into my room without needing further invitation, and I gladly stepped back and shut the door behind me.

"Frustrating," I bluntly said.

She dragged her gloved hand over my desk and chairs, over the small, intricate items Draco had once gone to the trouble of getting for me. "Well I've heard from my well-informed fiancée that you and Malfoy are struggling a little with...well, with some transitions. I will tell you this, he's down there looking secretly mopey that you haven't tried to barge in. I say we give him what he wants." She spun to look me up and down in my long white night gown with a frown. "You will change, I assume."

She held out the flask but I brushed it away. I hadn't drank any alcohol since waking up, primarily due to feeling horribly sick in the mornings and trying to focus on recovery. I went to my armoire and yanked down a black and glittery, very short party dress. "Fiancée? You and Zabini?" I coyly smiled at her while changing.

"Oh well, you know, he's a mysterious dream that I just can't wake up from," she smiled deeply and I felt genuine happiness for her. She rolled her eyes, "Anyways, you will be my bridesmaid I expect. Next month, I'll have an invitation sent over here now that I know you're actually alive and well."

"I am glad for you," I said as I brushed out my long white hair, and toyed with makeup at my desk.

"So what's the scoop with your man? Can't be solved by a good romp in the sheets?" She boldly implied while leaning against my fireplace and morbidly chugging what I could only assume was a very high-percentage alcohol.

I sighed while putting on eyeliner, "'e will not get into bed wit' me and all we do is fight about et."

Hilda curtly laughed, then covered her mouth as she exhaled painfully on a shot, "I have a good game that might clear that up. I think we can predict exactly how it will go, knowing Malfoy." She waited for me to finish dressing up appropriately, and then we sauntered down the cavernous and dark central staircase to his bedroom. I didn't even bother to wear any shoes and my feet were cold on the uninviting stone flooring of the archaic mansion.