The Mudblood

Chapter 89 : Year 4

Fanart of Anderson/Ginny and Lainey thinking about Fred made by https://www.quotev.com/29645863

Even though my right arm's humerus bone had literally snapped in half, I did not take Madam Pomfrey's advice of spending copious amounts of time with Draco Malfoy over the next month, mainly due to the fact that when in his proximity, he constantly badgered me about what vision I'd seen of "the Dark Lord". I did not want to tell Malfoy that I'd been directly tasked with helping Voldemort defeat Harry Potter. I didn't want to tell anyone, honestly. Even though I'd promised to tell Snape of any vision I had, I couldn't find it in me to enter his office. Yes, the Order trusted him fully, but there was a wary part of me that feared he might inform Voldemort that I'd betrayed him rather than warn the Order of my impending doom. The only person in this world that I truly wished to confide in was Fred Weasley, and, being that he'd fled the school, there was no way for me to speak with him in person.

We'd been exchanging notes via our blackboards since he'd left, yes, but we didn't dare write anything secretive, as we didn't know when the other person was at the blackboard, and anyone could just happen to walk by and see the writing. Therefore, I was, as Voldemort wished, sworn to silence, and it was an unpleasant silence. 

Immediately after leaving the hospital that next morning, I had come up with a vague scheme of how to convince Harry to retrieve the prophecy, though, upon seeing him in the corridor laughing with Ron and Hermione, I couldn't manage to execute the plan. It didn't seem worth it, in that moment, to selfishly destroy Harry's life. But then, every night I would dream of intensely detailed and gory ways in which Rookwood would kill my brothers, and I would wake up feeling that to betray Harry was very worth it.

Still, in all of May, I'd avoided talking to Harry Potter altogether, and luckily, I'd been so busy throughout the month with studying for my only O.W.L. that the reality of my predicament was forced into the posterior of my mind.

Once exams started in June, I'd completely forgotten that Voldemort had instructed that I convince Harry to get the prophecy by June. This fact was not brought into my awareness again until I was taking my Divination final on the day before my D.A.D.A. O.W.L., and there was a question about prophecies. Panicking, I barely studied for my O.W.L. that evening, and the next morning, I walked into the entrance hall with the determination to convince Harry Potter that he had to leave for the Ministry immediately.

The corridor outside of the Great Hall was packed with fifth year students, all waiting nervously for the doors to open. Harry was among them, standing near Ron and Hermione as the three of them watched Draco Malfoy brag ostentatiously about something to the crowd.

"Like I've been telling everyone, Goyle, the only students who pass the O.W.L. are those with connections," he proclaimed haughtily as his peers began to murmur. "My father's well acquainted with the head of the Wizarding Examination Authority, so I'm sure to pass all of these petty exams with straight O's. As for everyone else, they don't stand a chance—"

"So," I cut in as I stepped through a group of Hufflepuffs to address him, "you're saying that you would fail the exams if it weren't for your father's connections? Hm, that really speaks to your natural intelligence, doesn't it, Malfoy?"

His nostrils flared as his lips snarled. "No, I would pass either way, obviously, but I'm just saying that no one else will pass—"

"But they won't fail because of lack of knowledge," I insisted briskly. "They'll only fail because of something they have no control over. I don't see how you're managing to insult anyone, really—"