Inferno | Draco Malfoy

Deleted Scene | Remedy

This passage was initially a deleted scene from chapter 101, which I considered unnecessary at the time. But, I'm quite fond of this and have now chosen to turn it into a standalone piece.

(To all my current readers: it is not essential to read this scene; you may proceed directly to chapter 101 if you'd like)

Enjoy! :)

***

A week has elapsed since the masquerade ball, yet little has changed in the interim, as time persists in its lethargic rhythm.

Today, or rather tonight, closes the curtain on January's weary saga — a chapter painted grey under oppressive clouds and a leaden sky. The forthcoming month approaches, promising to bring with it the same anticipated fate of stagnation that has long since lost any novelty, for each dawn blurs seamlessly into another dusk without fanfare or acknowledgement from anyone but me these days. My life remains trapped within the cold, unyielding walls of this wretched manor, a place that, at this juncture, resembles less a shelter and more a beckoning void beneath.

Thus, ensnared, I find myself wandering aimlessly through the manor, unaccompanied by Narcissa, who is likely resting in her chambers, for it is evening and dinner is imminent. Meanwhile, most of the Death Eaters, including the Dark Lord himself, are on another mission, the nature of which remains uncertain — whether it involves espionage, acts of torture or worse.

My fingers glide over the frigid, timeworn walls, each contact operating as a poignant reminder of the exuberance that has slipped away as I clutch a closed book in my hands — The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven, authored by Miranda Goshawk.

Having read this book three times, I have only attempted the practical exercises once and a half, the latter being a half-hearted attempt that ended in a small explosion. While the pages remain in good condition, they exhibit signs of wear, with dog-eared corners and a spine that shows considerable use, alongside a slightly scuffed cover. Nonetheless, I recognise the importance of continuing my education despite the current circumstances present in the wizarding world.

Knowledge is a weapon, I remind myself, a means of empowerment in a world that seeks to strip me of my agency. My sense of ennui renders my school books the sole valuable assets within my Hogwarts trunk, a lifeline to a past that feels increasingly remote.

As I walk at a leisurely pace, I find myself humming a tune — specifically, "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me" by Celestina Warbeck, a cherished song of my mother's that she frequently sings to my father, coaxing him into a dance. The song resonates within me, a bittersweet echo of happier times as I can almost envision my mother gently swaying in my father's arms, their laughter mingling with the jazz music. It was a time suffused with love and laughter; it was a time when life felt worth living.

While I meander through the space, I continue to hum this song, even allowing myself a few twirls on the upper level of the manor. The candle sconces, meticulously designed and adorned with fine filigree, cast a radiance. With each spin, I lose myself in the moment, if only for a heartbeat.

The elegant flow of my dress, defined by an empire waist and subtly puffed sleeves, creates a captivating swirl of white fabric around me. The slightly heavier material, designed to provide warmth, reflects the light exquisitely, shimmering like a delicate cloud of petals caught in a gentle breeze. And my attention is particularly drawn to the dress, as I can no longer concentrate on the sensation of my hair while I spin, for it is now short and styled into a refined low bun.

But, just as the world around me blurs into a hazy canvas, with colours blending and swirling like paint on an artist's palette and with the tune I softly hum transforming into the background score of my daydream, I suddenly pause and cease my singing, realising that I am standing just outside the study room where Malfoy stays.