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The stranger awoke in the dark of Knockturn Alley, unable to recall her name. Unable to recall anything, in fact. She lay there a moment as feeling came back into her fingers, twitching them in an attempt to move. That was all she knew. She had to move.
Cautiously, she began to lift her head, wincing at the pain of the movement. As her senses slowly returned, she became aware of fast-approaching footsteps. Get up, something inside her screamed. Heeding this warning, she made a feeble attempt to prop herself onto her elbows, stifling a groan as pain shot through her body. Quiet. Somebody was getting closer. She ducked her head, peaking from beneath her dark lashes, as a boy with shocking white-blonde hair came into view. She wondered if he was the danger she could sense, but with her battered body, she could only await his approach.
"Filth." The boy muttered. She knew this was directed at her. He sneered and stepped around her disheveled figure like she was dog mess, entering a nearby shop. Suddenly, he paused and glanced back in annoyance.
"Move along." He demanded. He had cold eyes that met with hers threateningly.
The stranger attempted to shift, causing another wave of pain to ricochet throughout her body. She searched desperately for a voice within her broken body. It emerged raspily. "I don't think I can."
Curiosity stirred his stony expression. Why was the girl alone in Knockturn Alley? Surely, he would've recognised her from Hogwarts? She appeared to be of a similar age, and she clearly belonged to the wizarding world. He tried to place her, but he was confident he did not know the stranger. Leaving her to linger was too risky, and he was wasting precious time. A nervous energy pulsed inside of him, pressuring him to make a decision; if he didn't return to his mother soon, she would become suspicious of him.
"What is your name?" He asked her urgently.
"I can't remember." The girl breathed, afraid of his reply.
"How could you possibly-!" The boy calmed himself. "I don't have time for this."
He lurched back towards the girl and heaved her up, shooting a mean look as he did so. She was pretty, with a tangle of waist-length black hair and mossy green eyes, but she looked like she'd been through a war. Her robes were ripped, and her face was dirty. He shuddered as her skin brushed with his and begrudgingly propped her up onto shaky legs. He walked several strides and sat her down roughly in a shadowy corner. "If you wait here, I will help. Move even a muscle, and I will leave you in this alley to rot."
He turned on his heel swiftly and left.
Despite finding the boy odd and a little scary, she obeyed his order in a disoriented state. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to. The stranger rested her sore head against the wet brick wall and closed her eyes, only to spring them back open again a moment later. More footsteps. She could hear whispers, too, as they passed her by and faded down the path. Yet there was nobody to be seen. Except – she swore she saw a flash of ankles, but that couldn't be right.
There was a rustling sound, and a hand appeared mid-air, pushing strangely familiar flesh-coloured strings toward the door. She'd already gathered the boy didn't want to be followed by his twitchy manner. It was likely he'd withdraw his reluctant offer of help if he knew she'd allowed... a hand... to spy on him.
Biting her fist to keep in a cry of pain, the girl forced herself up and raced to the door. She fell into the shop as her legs buckled.
The tinker of the doorbell, combined with an embarrassingly loud thud, prompted the boy to turn around, enraged. "You!"
"There's a-" She started, unable to find the words to tell him what she'd just seen. The girl reached out and yanked the retreating strings by her feet, holding them up in explanation.
The boy's anger intensified; he stormed out of the shop and started grasping at thin air. Eventually, he landed on something and pulled his arm backward. Two boys were revealed.
"Potter and Weasley. Following me?" He narrowed his grey eyes.
"Having a nice little visit to Borgin and Burkes without your mummy, Malfoy?" Asked the boy with black hair. He wore funny circular glasses and glared at 'Malfoy' with contempt.
"At least I have a mother." Malfoy retorted, avoiding the question. "Where's your Mudblood friend? Doesn't she usually follow you around like the bad smell she is?"
It had the desired effect. Potter and Weasley raised two wooden sticks towards Malfoy, their question forgotten. The first real flicker of recognition dawned upon the girl. Something felt unusually natural about this strange behaviour. Wands. That cleared some confusion up but left a thousand more questions than she'd started with.
"Like you'd dare use magic out of school. Out of my way, Potter." He pushed past the two boys savagely and strode down the alley.
Potter and Weasley exchanged a look before turning their attention to the peculiar girl, confused by her interference. She didn't notice. She was watching after Malfoy in horror.
"We had a deal!" She yelled out frantically.
Malfoy stopped and dragged his hand down his face in frustration. He paced back toward the girl, hoisting her up and supporting her out the alley. He was gentler this time, but only by the smallest fraction.
The red-headed boy nudged his bespectacled pal. "What the bloody hell was that about?"
YOU ARE READING
The Stranger (Dramione)
Fanfiction"Draco Malfoy meets a stranger in Knockturn Alley. Little does he know, they've already met." A fan-fiction set in sixth year, following the plot of the Half-Blood Prince, with a Dramione twist.
