From a Cradle to a Grave

Chapter 19

Hope's Pov

"Weasley, where were you during lunch and dinner?" Draco says, marching into the Common Room with a scowl on his face.

"What does it matter to you?" I snap at him. "I'm just a useless piece of shit to you."

"What's that supposed to mean? Weasley!" Draco says, chasing after me when I stomp across the room and exit through the door.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco says, grabbing my arm and turning me around.

I wrench myself away from him, and continue to race through the halls of the castle, until I end up in a small, empty classroom.

"Hope!" Draco shouts once more, kicking open the door and marching towards me.

"Do you realize what I've been through in the past twenty four hours, Malfoy?" I shout at him. "I've been freaking out. My emotions have been all over the place, and you know what you've been doing in the meantime? You've been avoiding me!"

"Hope, I haven't been-"

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" I laugh hysterically.

"Will you snap out of it?" Draco demands. "I haven't been avoiding you, and you're definitely not going to die-"

"So worst case scenario, I end up making a fool out of myself in front of the three largest wizarding schools in Europe? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" I yell at him.

"Hope, will you just calm the hell-"

"Stop screaming at me!" I scream.

My arm shoots forward, and my hand wraps itself around Draco's throat tightly. He grabs my hand, and tries to pull me off of him, but he is no match for my freakish werewolf nature.

So instead, he pulls out his wand, and points it at my throat.

"Let go." "Drop your wand," he and I simultaneously say.

The two of us glare at each other, then move at the same time. I let go of his neck, and he pulls the tip of his wand away from my throat.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I say, collapsing on top of the table nearest to me.

"An apology would be nice," Draco snaps, massaging his sore neck.

"Just shut up and help me, Malfoy!" I say desperately. "All the Hufflepuffs have rallied behind Parkinson, they're calling me a- a freak! And how the bloody hell am I supposed to compete in the tournament when I haven't got a clue as to what I'm going to be up against?"

"I've got the solutions to both of your problems," Draco replies. "For the latter, all we have to do is convince someone in our family to tell us what the first task is going to be. My father probably knows everything there is to know about the upcoming tasks, but you've got a higher chance of convincing your own father to tell you."

"Right, because Lucius Malfoy is a prick who doesn't give out free information under life or death circumstances," I nod.

"You do realize I refrain from speaking my mind about your godforsaken family, Weasley? It would help if you'd try the same," Dracon says.

"Fine," I scoff. "What about my first problem? The Hufflepuffs hate me more than ever now. I'm an outcast from my own friends, my own family... I'm easy prey. They're not going to stop-"

"They'd stop if you'd just do what I've been telling you to do since our first year," he groans in exasperation. "Be yourself, Hope. Stop trying to be someone you're not. Stop acting the way you do in front of Potter and his group of rodent friends, because you're not one of them. You're not kindhearted or friendly, you're manipulative and determined. Show that to the rest of the school, and no one will mess with you again."