Weakness Guides The Heart

Chapter four

"Have you guys noticed anything strange about Malfoy?" Harry asked, the question streaming passed his lips before his mind could issue a thought; a sheepish flush tinting his ears as his words reached his friends.

"Other than the fact he's decided to completely isolate himself from the rest of the year-oh, and other than the fact the last time we saw him was when he wondered scot-free out of the school grounds just after he helped try to bring down all of us, and oh, oh, other than-"

"Hermione." Harry whispered, a pleading tremble laced within his call, urging the witch to offer a helpless shrug; an uncertain sigh salting her breakfast.

"I mean, yes he is very reserved...but who wouldn't be after...all that has happened..."

Harry's eyes drifted back towards the blonde before him, who's body was inverted, hands tentatively soothing his elbows; fingernails offering a false security to his trembling form. His back was hunched; neck painfully dipped, shielding his eyes from the blameful glares of his peers.

"Look at him though, he just seems..."

"Sad?" Ron hissed lowly; a sarcastic flutter of disbelieve tangling around his tongue; a forceful shake of the head startling the raven-haired boy. "You know that word?"

"Ron, not again-" Hermione attempted, but her words were useless; lying forgotten against the oak, burned by the harsh reply of her boyfriend; like dusty ashes contaminating the innocent air of the hall.

"Haven't you noticed how upset Ginny is? She helped you out a lot-"

"I'm not the one who pushed her away, Ron. She-she wanted something that I couldn't give her-"

"Why couldn't you?" Ron's tone was desperate; a knowing glint sprouting in his blue eyes; a defeated sigh already tumbling passed his lips before Harry had even answered.

"You know why." His eyes sank, drowning in the sorrowful regret clawing at his mind; the echo of Ginny's loving words bursting his ears; his own painful reply a dull whisper of a record spinning in his mind. "I can't help it."

"I know." The freckled boy faltered; his agitation smearing against his toast, buttering the blame onto himself. "I'm sorry, I just-I hate seeing my sister sad, you know."

Harry knew. He understood far too well; the weight, the pain, of 100-year-old tragedies resting upon his young shoulders; the gloom of last year still circling his heart, like barbed wire piercing the small flecks of hope that desperately tried to escape his body.

Hope that the future would be much brighter than the past.

Another figure entered the room; the bumbling smile crookedly carved into the man's face was unmistakable. Mister Malcurious.

Harry's steady eyes followed his gleeful footsteps; the perk in his stride uncharacteristic, contrasting with the dark interior of the Great Hall; the high ceilings no longer filled with breathtakingly beautiful silhouettes of the night sky. It was filled with clouds, all thick; all clustered with an underlying chaos, the faint cries of death still echoing around their thunderous exteriors.

Hogwarts was losing its magic.

The man halted besides Draco; a cheerful melody gliding towards the boy; a reluctance reflecting in the blonde's grey orbs. He stood, following the footsteps with a gloomy unwillingness; a dull throbbing radiating from his shoes.

"Please sit."

"Oh, thank you, Sir, I was planning on standing around eagerly, ready to be at your beck and call."

Mister Malcurious mustered a chuckle; his stance unfazed by the bitter bite of Draco's tongue.

"See, when I was told Draco Malfoy was acting differently, I knew they must have been mistaken. You seem perfectly fine to me." The professor sat, resting his hands on top of the table; his elbows pointed, fingers interlinked in patient interest.

"Please sit." Reluctantly, Draco sat; his own hands laying uninterestedly against his sides.

"How are you, Draco?"

"I didn't know you were a shrink too, Sir. Very talented."

"As I said, I want to make sure all my students feel happy and safe here, at Hogwarts-"

"But I don't see you dragging any other kids in here-"

"That's because you're the only one with a powerful father." Draco stopped, his words trapped within his throat; a sickly syrup gluing his mouth shut; a hurtful sense of realisation shimmering within his displeased eyes.

"I've been asked, by your father, to keep an eye on you throughout the year. Believe me, Draco-I mean no harm."

"Maybe you don't." Draco mumbled viciously beneath his breath; a venomous scowl sulking on his face; the small flecks of dust from the books surrounding him offering him a pitiful smile.

"I've noticed you've...isolated yourself from your peers." Malcurious stood. He walked slowly towards the boy; his movements measured, deliberate, each step like a slither, the sound almost silent; a dull echo entrancing the room.

With one abrupt click of his fingers, Draco was turned; his entire body tugged towards the male, whose crooked smile held an underlining darkness; a malice.

"Very good." Malcurious brought his face downwards, a snarl so familiar stinging his smile.

"Keep it that way." Abruptly, Draco stood; the unforgiving cry of the chair reverberating around the room, piercing each and every page of the books, tainting them; poisoning their wicked content.

"I don't have to listen to this! You-You're just a teacher-"

"Am I?" A devious glint ignited his eyes; the icy orbs emitting a sense of viciousness; one that ran deeper than blood. He bounded forward, a seething slur seeping from his lips, words pummelling the teenager, forcing his body to flinch.

"Malcurious, strange name, don't you think, Draco? Take a guess at what my surname is."

"There's no way-my father, he-he doesn't-he can't have a-"

"Oh, but he does, Draco." His words were like swords, each letter penetrating Draco's silky skin, tarnishing the pure ignorance of this blood. Malcurious stepped closer.

"I am Malcurious Malfoy, the most handsome Malfoy, if I do say so myself, and your father's older brother."