Pawns | A Draco Malfoy Love Story

The Hogwarts Express

...and then the room stopped shifting.

"Draco where are we?" I asked slowly, getting the sense that he knew exactly where we were. He didn't answer me, but instead looked down at the ground, eyes fixed on his shoes.

"Draco!" I said his name again. "What's going on?" I yelled, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. I couldn't explain it, but I had a bad feeling. I felt a deep pit growing in my stomach. My heart started to pound.

He spoke without looking at me.

"I need you to listen," he said flatly.

His words echoed in my mind, even now. Starving and barely awake, I thought about that night whilst sitting in the cold, dark room. Over and over, against my will, my mind replayed the moment that I realized I was a nothing but a fool.

***

Ten Months Earlier

"Have you got your wand, dear?"

"Of course I do, dad," I said with a chuckle, not letting him see the momentary panic in my eyes and the quick pat of my skirt to make sure that I indeed didn't forget it.

"I'll miss you," he said, pulling me into a tight hug.

It was my fifth year attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You'd think we'd be used to the goodbyes every September 1st, but leaving was always a bitter-sweet feeling.

"I'll miss you too, dad. I love you. And don't forget to write," I called as I began to walk away, pushing my trolley towards the familiar Platform 9 and 3/4s. "And send some of those chocolates you always do," I added at a full shout now.

"As long as you send me some of those frog ones, Arabella!"

I smiled as I pushed my way through the platform, blinded by the steam and deafened by the sound of screaming students scrambling onto the bright red train.

As I made may way to the back end of the platform, I noticed one witch hugging her daughter. She was likely a first year judging by her small frame and bright wide eyes. The mom's own eyes were glistening brightly as she pulled away from the hug, ushering her small daughter onto the train.

I smiled to myself at the cute display, but my heart sunk a little. My mother had passed when I was quite young. I hardly remember her to be honest. Dad tells me stories, though - usually about how they met. I imagine it's because that story stands out in his head.

Sitting across from him at a London coffeeshop on one rainy day, a beautiful young woman pulled out a chocolate from her bag. But before it reached her lips, it jumped out of her hands and pounced onto his face, taking the form of a little frog.

It gave him quite a shock to say the least, considering that he was a Muggle and he'd just had his first encounter with a witch. After that, it was safe to say that he found himself completely engrossed in this newfound world - her world - and not long after, they were married.

It absolutely crushed him when she died and so he raised me amongst Muggles, too pained to even tell me about the world of magic until I received my letter at 11.

So, despite being half blood, I might as well have been Muggle-born.

I hauled my luggage up the little step and into the train, rolling it along the hallway until I reached the second last carriage at the back of the train. This was the usual compartment of my best friend and I, but it was empty at the moment. I put together that she was running late which made sense considering her family was huge and organization was nearly impossible.