The Girl With No Choice

(01) b e g i n n i n g

1998

As Daenerys met Harry's gaze, her breath hitched. It looked like him, yet there was some sort of jinx cast on him preventing his appearance to look true. To look like the Harry she grew up to know. Her heart was steady and her face gave nothing away as her father's hand grasped her arm roughly, leading her to look at the boy whose face was being held up by Bellatrix. Behind her aunt and Potter were Granger and Weasley, both looking tired and desperate. The golden trio that was once radiant in the halls of Hogwarts was long gone and replaced with three teenagers who had everything on their shoulders. The three teenagers who have witnessed the worst of this war.

"Well, is it him?!" The impatient tone was evident as Bellatrix looked at her expectantly. Her father's grip tightened and she felt a shift within the manor that she once called home. 

Tell the truth Daenerys, she chastised herself. If she were to lie, her family would die. But if she were to tell the truth, the boy who lived would be dead, and his blood would be on her hands. 

"Bring her closer Lucius, let her have a better look," Bellatrix demanded lowly and her father dragged her closer to his face. She refused to meet Bellatrix's cold eyes and slowly brought herself down to stare at him.

As their gazes met for the first time in a while, they both knew; perhaps if they were given one more chance, they wouldn't have done anything differently. Because as Daenerys Malfoy met Harry James Potter's gaze, she knew. She knew that she didn't regret the late-night secrets or the gentle touches shared between the two. If her ancestors were to know what she would say next, she would be hexed on the spot. A Malfoy risking it all to save a blood-traitor.  

"No." She answered firmly as she stood up and this time, she looked into Bellatrix's eyes. Her voice was unwavering as she shared a look with her parents. "It's doesn't look like Potter". 

That lie was not the first, but it was the last one she'd tell. 

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

1996

Daenerys Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table staring at the incoming students with disinterest. It was a new year, but it wasn't the year she would be able to relax. A lot was to come according to her father and she would have to make him proud. Making him proud was something Daenerys was growing tired of but nonetheless, she'd do it. Her mother once told her that her father was only stressed out. But if one were to ask Daenerys what she'd thought, it was an excuse. The hall was bursting with whispers as a particular group walked in. 

Bloody Potter and his posse. 

The hall's noise dwindled down as everyone was shocked to see the Harry Potter once more. Daenerys rolled her eyes as the Weasley girl brushed her hand against Potter's arm.  She was no surprised the two were closely acquainted since Potter's right-hand man was the other Weasley. The entire Weasley clan were filthy blood-traitors, a family dedicated to muggles. She heard Crabbe and Goyle laugh at whatever the bloody hell Pansey was whispering about Granger. Blaise merely ignored the insolent talk and chose to focus his attention back on the book he was reading. 

As the Golden Trio sat down at their table, she focused her attention on the Headmaster. There was something noticeably different about his hand which looked dead. The whispers in the hall were not hidden and he silence them with a calm tone. Something caught Daenerys' eye and she noticed Harry looking down at the table with an unreadable expression.