The Stranger (Dramione)

11 - The Library

They took a table together in the library. Enola had a view of the boy from the train and his red-headed friend from across the room. They both appeared tired, but the redhead's eyes were rivalling his hair. He looked like he'd been crying.

"Why don't you start with those two?" Enola said.

"Potter and Weasley?" Draco asked, confused.

"They were in the alley and I saw what you did on the train."

"Put it this way we don't get along. I quite enjoyed breaking his nose." He laughed. Potter looked up and they exchanged a scowl.

"I've gathered." Enola rolled her eyes. "Why?"

"Most recently, it's because he put my father in Azkaban."

"Oh." Enola said. She was grateful to find this was a word she recognised. "What did he do?"

"We're on opposite sides of a fight, you see. Your book might even help. Look up the boy who lived." He said in an eery voice and rolled his eyes. "That's Potter, but not for long."

Intrigued, Enola opened her book and started to read with fascination. Draco sat beside her bored, making his pen hover in the air. For some reason this niggled her.

"Aren't you going to study?" She asked him.

"Don't see the point." He said.

"Right." She continued to read and tried to ignore his presence.

When she came to the end of the section, she looked upon Draco in a different light. He was clearly on the wrong side of the fight. These people were murderers. She gathered it was this Voldemort Draco had been asked to do something for. No wonder Narcissa was worried.

She turned to speak but his head was on the desk. "Draco." She said.

He lifted his head, lazily. "Yeah?"

"Are you doing something for this Volde-"

"The Dark Lord. You don't say his name." Draco said, sitting upright.

"Right." Enola said carefully, she thought it was a stupid rule, but she didn't dare to voice that anymore. She thought she might even be a little afraid of him. "Are you?"

"Yes." He said. "But you're going to keep quiet."

"Who've I to tell?" She asked, trying to keep her tone even. "What about the Serpens?"

"What about them?" He played stupid.

"Stop it, what's the deal?" She asked. "Just give me something to go by."

He moved uncomfortably. "We think Serpens is your family name, but it's not something you should go shouting about. Keep it quiet and you keep safe."

"That just gives me more questions." She said, remembering her conversation with Dumbledore guiltily.

"Look, I won't say anything more. You'll be fine as long as you trust me, only me." Draco said.

"Okay." Enola said unconvinced, she trusted him less now than ever.

"The story is, your family are the Inkwoods and you live with your Aunt. Three rules. Say as little as possible, don't keep asking weird questions, and come to me if you absolutely have to." He allowed himself a smile. "You were really embarrassing last night and you dropped us both in it."

"It's that rotten cow Pansy you want to blame. And speaking of Pansy, we're never alone for me to ask anything." Enola said.

"Yeah, she's good for some things, though." He gave Enola a horrible little grin. "Just give me a signal. If you scratch your nose at me, we meet at 2am in the common room."

"Ew. Fine. I'm actually going to start on my assignment now." She said, hoping he might leave her so she could digest this new information.

"Yeah." He said. "Well, I've got better things to do anyway." He stood from his seat.

"Draco." Enola caught him before he left. "If what you're doing for Him involves magic, I think there's a point to studying it. Not that I think it's a good idea to get involved with this at all."

He considered this and smirked. "Mind your business, Aloney." And he swaggered off.

Enola could finally breathe. She took a deep breath and began to scratch her quill against parchment, soon finding she barely needed to reference her book. She knew this stuff.

Across the room, Weasley watched her write furiously and nudged his friend, Potter.

"God, who's she remind you of?" He nodded his head towards Enola.

"Dunno." Potter said, giving his friend a strange look.

"Makes me miss her, you know." Weasley's voice cracked. "I just hope she's safe."

"You're losing it." Potter shook his head. "Draco's new lapdog reminds you of Hermione?"

"No, I guess not." He said glumly. "Odd though isn't it, arriving in sixth year just as Hermione disappears."

Potter was doubtful. "It's a coincidence, Ron."

"I know." Ron said. "I'm just saying, it's strange."