The Serpent and the Spark

chapter 3

Elena Malfoy had always known the rules. She had followed them dutifully her whole life, living up to the Malfoy name with the cold, controlled precision that had been expected of her. But things were different now. Things had started to change the moment Fred Weasley entered her life with his relentless teasing, his cocky grin, and the way he made her feel like she could be something more than just another Malfoy heir. It had been days since their broom race, and Elena couldn't shake the memory of it. The rush of the wind, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and, most of all, the way Fred's laughter had made her forget—forget the pressures, forget her family's expectations, forget everything but the moment.

Now, she found herself in the library, supposedly studying for an upcoming Charms test, but her focus was elsewhere. Across the table, Draco was scribbling furiously, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Her younger brother had been distant since the race, though he hadn't brought it up again. Still, she could feel the tension in the air between them." Are you going to keep pretending nothing happened?" Draco suddenly asked, not looking up from his parchment. Elena blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?" Draco slammed his quill down, glaring at her. "The Weasley. You've been distracted ever since that ridiculous race. I told you, Father wouldn't approve."" Father isn't here," Elena replied sharply, her patience wearing thin. "And I'm not a child, Draco. I can make my own decisions."" You know what he'd say, Elena," Draco insisted, his voice low but laced with frustration. "He'd say that Weasley is beneath us. A blood traitor. You're putting everything at risk by even being seen with him."

Elena stood, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. Several students turned to glance at them, but she didn't care. Her temper flared, fed by weeks of pent-up frustration. "I'm not putting anything at risk. It was a race, Draco. Nothing more." Draco's eyes narrowed. "You don't believe that. You've been acting different ever since." Elena stared at him, heart pounding. "Maybe I'm tired of acting like the perfect Malfoy. Maybe I'm tired of living in Father's shadow." Draco's expression darkened. "That's dangerous thinking."

Without another word, Elena stormed out of the library, her mind swirling with a mixture of anger and confusion. She couldn't escape the feeling that everything she had been raised to believe was slowly unraveling. The more time she spent around Fred, the more she questioned the rigid walls her family had built around her.

---

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the grounds of Hogwarts in a warm, golden glow, Elena found herself wandering again, her feet carrying her to the Quidditch pitch. She didn't expect to see anyone there, but to her surprise, Fred Weasley was standing at the far end, practicing his broom handling with the same effortless skill she had seen in the race. He caught sight of her and, without missing a beat, flew over, landing in front of her with his usual grin." Malfoy," he greeted, leaning on his broom. "Fancy seeing you here. What's the matter? Couldn't stay away from me?" Elena crossed her arms, trying to look unimpressed. "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley." Fred chuckled, the sound deep and easy, and it made something warm unfurl in her chest. 

"You look like you've got something on your mind. Care to share with the class?" Elena hesitated. Part of her wanted to tell him off, to remind him that they came from different worlds and that nothing could ever happen between them. But the other part of her—the part that had been growing louder lately—wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to forget the Malfoy name for just a little while." Draco's upset," she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended. "He thinks I'm putting the family's reputation at risk by even talking to you." Fred's smile faltered, his playful expression giving way to something more serious. "And what do you think?" Elena shrugged, though her heart pounded in her chest. "I don't know. I've spent my whole life being what they expect. Doing what's right for the family. But lately... I just feel like I'm suffocating." Fred was silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers. "You're more than just a Malfoy, Elena." She blinked at the use of her first name. He had never called her that before. It felt... different. Like he was speaking to her, not the version of her that wore the Malfoy mask." You don't have to be what they want," he continued, stepping closer. "You can make your own choices. Be who you really are."

Elena's breath caught in her throat as he spoke, his words cutting through the layers of doubt and fear she had been carrying for so long. She had spent years trying to be the perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect Slytherin. But Fred made her feel like she could be something else—something more. Before she could think better of it, the words slipped out. "What if I don't know who that is?" Fred's gaze softened, and without hesitation, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. The contact sent a jolt of electricity up her arm, and for a moment, neither of them moved." You'll figure it out," Fred said, his voice quiet, steady. "And I'll be here to remind you whenever you forget." Elena's heart raced. His hand was still resting against hers, warm and steady, and she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him. It was dangerous—everything about this was wrong. But at that moment, she didn't care. "I don't need saving, Weasley," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at him. Fred's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "I know. But it doesn't mean you have to do it alone." The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words, and for the first time in her life, Elena felt like she was standing on the edge of something unknown, something thrilling. The world was suddenly filled with possibilities, even if they were dangerous. Fred leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, and Elena felt the weight of everything—their families, their houses, their entire world—pressing down on her. And yet, standing there with Fred, she didn't feel crushed by it. She felt alive. Just as their faces were inches apart, a sharp voice cut through the moment. 

"Elena!" She jerked back, her heart pounding as she turned to see Draco standing at the entrance to the pitch, his face twisted in anger. "What are you doing?" Draco demanded, his voice laced with disbelief and fury. Elena took a deep breath, the world crashing back around her. Fred stepped back, but his gaze didn't leave hers." I'm making my own choices," Elena replied, her voice steady as she met her brother's gaze. Draco's face paled. "Father is going to hear about this." Elena clenched her fists, knowing that this moment would change everything. But for the first time, she didn't feel scared. She felt free.