Darkness and Light

Butterbeer and Unanswered Questions

Draco POV:

We arrive at The Three Broomsticks and I hold open the door for her, then I snag a table in the corner.

"Zis place looks...lovely." Fleur says with a giggle. I look around, taking in the dim lighting and random, creepy strangers.

"But look at the beautiful warm fire. It's cosy, and you get used to all the unusual people." I say and she smiles,

"You're right." She murmurs, eyes lighting up.

I order us a Butterbeer each, then drum my fingers on the table. Then the door swings open with a squawk. With a squawk?! I turn in time to see Gray land on the table with a high pitched squeal.

Fleur POV:

There's a flurry of feathers as a sleek eagle owl lands by Draco. I assume it is his because he reaches out and strokes the owl, murmuring to it in a gentle, kind way. He unties a letter from around its leg and tears it open. He reads quickly, then his face darkens. One fist closes around the letter and he rips it several times before thrusting it in his pocket, eyes narrowed in obvious anger. He looks up to see the lady behind the bar glaring at him,

"Draco. No owls allowed." She says, flicking her hair over her shoulder,

"Sorry, Madam Rosmerta." He mutters, jaw tense. The door swings open once more as someone else enters and Gray flies out before Draco can take him outside.

"Are you okay?" I ask nervously. From across the table, I can see him shaking.

"Uh, yes. Fine. Haha." He laughs loudly, then is silent. Our Butterbeers are set down on the table and he gulps a bit of it down.

"Um, Fleur. I think I should probably tell you something..." He looks up at me nervously,

"Yes?" I ask.

Draco POV:

This is it. I'm going to tell her that my parents are Death Eaters. Then things will just play out.

"Um...you see. You probably won't l-like me after this. But my pare...my friend. Um...my f-friend Harry Potter wantstoputhisnameinthegobletoffirebuthe'stooyoung." I blurt out.

"Oh?" Her forehead creases in confusion, "Oh, you want me to do it." She says finally.

"Um. Yeah." I bite my lip,

"Oh, well...I guess I could do zat." She smiles at me and I pull out the slip of paper, feeling worse and worse. I hand it to her and she smiles again.

An hour later, we walk back to Hogwarts. Fleur has my scarf wrapped around her neck and my arm slung casually around her shoulders.

"Are all Hogwarts students like you?" She asks suddenly, pausing to look up at me. Memories of tormenting younger students. Of Harry 'I'm the chosen one' Potter. He deserved what he got. I would do anything to wipe that conceited smirk of his face. Ever since he rejected me that day on the train, I've stuck with those two worthless lumps, Crabbe and Goyle. My father, forcing me to be someone I don't want too. But I'm too cowardly to refuse. So I put up with it. With him. With The Dark Lord. With torturing people who don't deserve the pain. Coward.

"No," I say at last, "I'm the only one like me."

She smiles, oblivious to the anger behind my words.