Chapter Three-Things Have Changed for the Worst

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Chapter Three-Things Have Changed, for the Worst

Fred, George, and I wander with no sense of direction along the pavement. The twins kept pointing at different shops, talking about how rubbish they really are and how it would be so much better if there shop, the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, was located there. I had to stop them a few times since I found a shop I needed to get supplies from. I mainly needed extra books to make sure I don't fail and have to leave Hogwarts out of embarrassment. After our shopping had been done, we rested at the Leaky Cauldron.

"So, Elora, what's it like being in the same house as some of those monstrous people?" George asked while taking a sip of his Butterbeer and I did the same.

"It's not too awful. I do get remarks about being a mudblood every once in a while, even from the years below us. It's funny though, because most of them know I'm adopted. They just find an excuse to torment others," I darkly chuckle.

"I bet Malfoy has a good time trying to crack you," Fred says, "you seem unbreakable."

"He actually doesn't even mention blood status around me," I inform them, "he's surprisingly civil to me."

"What? Malfoy? Being civil? Unheard of," George laughs, "how come he doesn't bother you? He has stirred up Hermione about it from time to time."

Flashback

*Second Year*

I leaving the infirmary, trying to rub away the remaining tear streaks from my face. I had just payed a visit to Hermione. Her and the other muggle born students have been stunned, yet no one knows who has done it. It has been a scary year so far and I was worried for Hermione's sake. She had always found trouble with her friends Ron and Harry, yet this time the trouble had won against her.

I was still trying to fit the pieces together. I was trying to figure out the meaning behind the chamber of secrets, the message displayed across the wall. What was the chamber and whose blood was it written in?

"Look, it's Granger, probably checking on her pathetic sister," one of Draco's goons, Crabbe, mocked.

"Have you been crying?" Draco asked. It hadn't sounded rude or mean to my ears, yet Crabbe and the other goon, Goyle, were watching so I just shook my head while staring at my shoes.

"She's probably worried about being next. She doesn't really care for her sister," Goyle scoffed.

"Why would she? She's a Gryffindor, she's scum. The only thing they have in common is the fact that they're filthy mudbloods," Crabb agreed.

"Would you two shut it? She obviously isn't a mudblood. Hermione was the last one left to be stunned. They aren't even related by blood, you idiots," Draco shut them down immediately. My gaze shifted to him in shock. My eyes shined with appreciation and my mouth was open with disbelief, yet his eyes looked anywhere but me.

"It's probably because she's a Slytherin. Her blood status is forgivable then," Crabbe completely ignored what Draco had said. Draco began to strut away with his friends behind him.

"Shut your mouth. What are you, a codfish?" Goyle spit before catching up with his master, leaving me alone, still astonished.

Flashback Over

Before the twins can comment on the story I had told them, a handsome worker came by.

"Do any of you need refills?" he asked.

"We're fine for now," I politely respond, taking the time to observe his face. He had perfectly tousled hair and a jawline that could cut my hand.

"Wow, a worker actually came up to us! I feel famous," George grinned, ignoring the fact that the worker was still here.

"I actually wanted to have an excuse to talk to this pretty one," the worker directed to me, "Hi, I'm Henry."

"I'm Elora," I introduce myself with a blush present on my face. The twins all found it priceless.

"If you don't mind staying behind hours, I'd love to have an actual conversation with you," Henry suggested with a cheeky smile on his face. The twins take that as their cue to step in.

"I don't know, Elora. We promised mum we would be home before dark," Fred reminds me.

"Hermione will throw a fit if they see us without you," George speaks up.

"It's alright. Just tell her I want to spend the night with our parents before we had to start our classes back up," I tell them. I was very intrigued by Henry.

"Alright, whatever you say,"

~

"Here you go," Henry puts another Butterbeer in front of me and sits on the seat across from me.

"I didn't order this," I remind him.

"Ah, well, it's on the house," he grins. I send him a weak smile back and taking a small sip. It had a peculiar taste to it, but I shrugged it off, "why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Well, I'm a fifth year at Hogwarts..." I start to give him a generic explanation about myself and I can feel himself scooting closer.

"That's really interesting," he hums as he lays a hand on my thigh. I jump slightly, causing his grasp on me to tighten. His free hand finds itself twirling my hair "You have really beautiful hair. It's gorgeous."

"Henry..." I try to push his hands away, but my limbs grow tired.

"Just relax," he reminds me as he begins to nibble on my neck. His hand crept very close to the botton of me jeans.

"Henry, stop," I say firmly, but he ignores me. It gets harder and harder to fight him off as I feel myself losing the control of my body. Henry takes this as a sign to push me against the wall

"Stop struggling, you won't be able to soon anyways. Make this easier on yourself," he growls. I have no choice but to scream for my life. Things kept going too far and I was scared for my life. Luckily, I hear a recognizable voice shout a spell to remove the lock on the doors.

"HELP! HELP! PLEASE HELP ME!" I sob before Henry can actually touch me. A flash of familiar platinum blonde hair is behind Henry and he forces the pig off of me. The man punches Henry repeatedly before Henry can run off like coward he was. I slide down to the floor, still unable to move my body and continue to sob. The man runs over to me and I soon discover that the man who saved me was actually a boy. A boy that goes by the name Draco Malfoy.

"Elora? Who was that man?" Draco questioned me, but I ignored it.

"Thank you, thank you thank you thank you," I splutter as he helps me up, but I just flop onto his body, "I can't move at all, I don't know what he put in my drink."

"Here, let me help," Draco insists. He carefully helps pulls my jeans back on and slips the shirt onto my body as if I was fragile china. It was like he was handling something that was broken, and I'm starting to think he was.

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