The Sparrow and The Serpent

Chapter 4

When Margot woke up she smelt bonfire smoke and the familiar smell of Draco's cologne. The curtains around her 4 poster bed were pulled shut which she didn't remember doing before bed last night, but, she also didn't remember much of last night. Her head spun as she sat up and she pulled the curtain back to reveal her roommate sleeping soundly beside her.

"Crabbe?!" Margot yelped and covered her mouth. Where the hell was she? She turned and saw a desk chair had been pulled up alongside her bed where a sleeping Draco now sat.

"Draco" she touched him slightly, "Draco wake up."

Draco's eyes opened and he smiled as he stretched his arms above his head, revealing a strip of his stomach.

"Mornin' Margot. I believe you should address me as you did last night. The, um, "high lord of fun and partying" I believe was the official title. A real honor from the Dark Lord's flesh and blood."

Margot covered her eyes and groaned, " Merlin, was I that bad?"

Draco shrugged, "I personally found you hilarious."

Margot laid back and covered her face with Draco's pillow. "I'm sorry Draco. Thank you for taking care of me," Margot gestured to the drawn curtains and crisps lying half-eaten in the bed. "Apologies about the crumbs."

"No apologies needed." Draco smiled down at his hands.

The air around them seemed to still and Margot took note of the way Draco's hair fell absently into his brow. Margot felt so safe in Draco's bed and she was thankful that he slept in his chair, pulling the curtains around her. She felt Draco's eyes on her as she pulled on her shoes and sweater that she had left in a clump on the floor. She turned to see Draco loosening his tie and running a hand through his hair.

"Thank you again, Dray," Margot said, his eyes flicking over to meet hers. Without a word, Draco nodded and continued changing his clothes, she gathered her sweater from the floor and thanked Draco one more time before ducking out of the dormitory. Once back to her room, she was startled to see Pansy asleep in her bed.

~

Margot wandered through her first days at Hogwarts in a daze. She was thankful for Draco's kindness in teaching her some basics about the wizarding world. It wasn't until one night in the Slytherin common room that she learned who her father was.

"Potters a right twit." Draco sat down dramatically on the couch after storming into the common room.

"Why does everyone make such a big deal about him?" Margot closed her book and leaned to listen to Draco.

Draco froze. "The dark lord... he killed Harry's parents in front of him. When he tried to kill Harry he —- he couldn't... Big deal."

"The dark lord as in...." Margot asked, Draco nodded.

"Oh..." Margot suddenly felt her face go red. This was the depth of her father's power, of his hate.

"Have you spoken to Potter?" Draco said Harry's last name with disdain.

"No, I haven't... knowing what you just said I'll... I don't want to go anywhere near him."

"Good. Potters are no good anyway."

~

September the 9th, 1996

Potions Lvl VI

Margot Riddle

Plants / Supplies to collect:

Lacewing flies (2 bushels)

Bouncing bulbs (4)

Troll Boogeys (3 cups) - how?

Do you want to go to the courtyard after class?

Sure

Meet me there

Margot found Draco in the courtyard after potions class. He leaned against a tree, eating a green apple.

"I have a surprise for you," Draco said. Margot hadn't seen Draco in a few days since she spent the night in his dorm. He hadn't been around during meals or in the common room, she worried he was avoiding her.

She followed behind him up into the trophy room watching him search around until he brought her to a black and white photo labeled "Head Boy and Head Girl 1945." The photo was small and surrounded by photos of the house Quidditch Teams and Prefects but she saw him. A small enchanted picture of a boy, smiling, fixing his robes and hair. The name below read "Tom Riddle''. Margot's hand flew to touch the photo.

"My...father...." Margot was enchanted. She had never seen a photo of her father. She had corresponded with him a few times via letter and through his followers but to see a moving photo of him was enough to leave her breathless.

"Head boy" Draco pointed out, "Looks like he was a lousy know-it-all just like you."

"I look like him," Margot whispered to herself.

"You do Margot, well, I believe you to be a fair bit prettier than him but yes, you do."

"How did I not know this is here? I can't believe it's still here. I would have thought that Dumbledore would have removed it by now..." Margot stared at the photo, transfixed.

"What power does a memory hold?" Draco shrugged.

The grounds surrounding the castle told the story of time passing. Leaves fell from the trees and left piles of yellow, red, and orange on the ground. Margot loved Hogwarts the best in the Fall when the pumpkins grew to the size of cattle and the air perpetually smelt like firewood. Margot spent most of her free time roaming the castle grounds with Pansy. They'd lay out in the grass and work on assignments, eat chocolate frogs, and relax as cups of tea and saucers floated above their heads.

The weather seemed to have a positive effect on Margot's magic, the chill in the air soothing the hum she felt beneath her skin. It finally felt easy to be herself, she found respite in her music, her reading, and her work with Madame Pomfrey. Things felt good and solid, and she wished she could bottle the feeling. She visited the trophy room often, standing before the head boy and head girl honors. She looked at her father, and memorized his movements: touch his hair, straighten his robe, look dead into the camera, flash, repeat. Who was he? This student was so dutiful to be named Head Boy of Slytherin House. When did he become the Dark Lord?

Margot met with Draco in her usual way and it felt like whatever tension had blossomed earlier in the term had started to fade. She found herself looking for him in rooms, watching him as he strutted across the courtyard to hassle Harry and his friends. Draco had, and she felt always would, a particular hold on her. She cared for him and as he began to be less present around campus she worried about what that meant.

Each day after potions, before heading to the infirmary, Margot stopped to visit her dad. She felt a particular draw to seeing him and the closeness brought her comfort. On a visit on Halloween, she noticed the small portrait of her father moving more than usual. She watched him; touched his hair, straightened his robe, looked dead into the camera, flash, arm reaching forward. She was shocked, how was there suddenly a new movement? Margot reached a nervous hand out and touched the photo. Suddenly, her stomach lurched and the room went blurry around her. A portkey? Margot thought. A flash of blue lit up in her face and then the crackle of fire.