BANALITY : Draco Malfoy

39

"No," I pass the photo back to Harry. I look around the room at all of the faces around me. They are waiting, but I can't give them the answer that they want. This is crazy. It's absolutely insane. "I... I remember. I remember years."

"Marty..." Harry says, looking from the photo to me.

I shake my head, "Jane. No, I am Jane. I know what happened to me. It was real. It was real."

"It wasn't," Draco says.

"We tried to find your friends," Harry explains. "Matilda Bancroft, Imogen Enfield, and Gaines Elffire don't exist. At least, they aren't on any records in Brighton, and Draco says that your parents have never heard-"

"My parents?" I look at them. "My parents know them. Matilda and Imogen were always over at the house. I went on holiday with them in 1996! My parents were so concerned about me travelling."

"The magic was done with skill," Draco speaks steadily. How can he be so calm at a time like this?

"Why would someone do that?" I ask, my voice growing hoarse from the volume. "I don't understand."

"I think you should sit down," Hermione tries to move closer to me.

"I want to know. I want to know now," I insist.

Draco shakes his head, "we don't know why you weren't just killed instead."

"No, I don't care why they were changed. Why did they change them to this?" I ask. My body is shaking, and my gestures are growing larger. "Why would someone put such awful lies in my head? Why would they make me feel like this every day for over a year and a half? Was making me practically invisible, practically repulsive not enough?"

No one has an answer for me.

I push past the group that has crowded by the doorway and force myself into the hallway. They herd after me, squished between the walls and staring at me.

"What's upstairs?" I ask, pointing to the staircase. "Not anti-muggle charms, obviously. I'm not a muggle!"

"Well, it's still dangerous," Hermione points out. "Harry and Ron brought in a lot of Dark Artifacts during their investigations, which really should have been handed over to the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"Doesn't help that the bitch's portrait would call you an awful word whenever you walked past," Ron says. "We could never get her to shut up about Hermione either."

Mudblood. The rest of them had parents who were wizards, but not Hermione. Not me.

"My parents think I'm dead," I realize. "My brothers too, right? Everyone thinks I'm dead?"

"I will stun you if you don't calm down," Draco says.

Ron snarls, "I will bring you directly to Azkaban if you try."

"The stress cannot be good for her head," Hermione says. "You should see the damage."

"What does he expect? He had us basically gaslight her for weeks! If I were her, I'd end up going to Azkaban myself for throttling him with my bare hands," Ginny mimes the gesture.

She turns to Draco and Harry must physically restrain her to prevent her from leaping up at him. Then, everyone is shouting, and I can feel my throat getting tighter and tighter. The world begins to grow hazy. My head hurts. The world turns into a dream. Nothing feels real. It almost feels like someone else is in my body, and I can only watch them pilot me out of the house.