Obliviate ~ A Harry Potter Story

Chapter 37

"Miss Malfoy, please sit," McGonagall said, gesturing to the unoccupied seat. I tentatively walk over and sit down, aware that anything that I say or do could be used against me.

"Miss Malfoy, your Father has come and requested that you be transferred to Beauxbaxtons." What? Why would he do that? My face must have betrayed my feelings as McGonagall gave me a sad smile.

"Ariana, I have decided that it would be best for you to attend Beauxbaxtons," Father told me with a softer than usual look.

"Why?" I say, trying my hardest to control the sob that wants to escape. I mentally shake my head at myself. I want-no need to stay strong. He will never take me seriously if I am a crying mess.

"Because I said so." He replied, looking back to McGonagall.

"That is not an answer and you know it." I hiss at him, turning to face him.

"Why do you want to stay at this miserable excuse of a school? Wait, don't tell me. Is it your blood traitor 'friends' the Weasleys?" He said with a sneer, still not looking at me.

"Why are you like this?" I ask, fighting harder to control my emotions.

"We leave tonight. Go and pack your things." He told me, ignoring my question.

"No. Not until you tell me why." I said defiantly, standing up and crossing my arms. I look over at McGonagall and see that she is fighting back a smile. That small bit of encouragement gave me the courage to continue to stand my ground. I will not go to Beauxbaxtons without a fight.

"Fine. Have it your way." Father replied standing. I blink in confusion as he comes over to me. For a foolish second, I thought that he was going to hug me and by the time I realized that wasn't going to happen he had already grabbed my wrist and was dragging me to the fireplace.

"Mr. Malfoy! That is not necessary!" McGonagall says rising from her seat as I try to break away from his grip. He squeezed my wrist tighter and I whimpered in pain before he grabbed a handful of floo powder and shouted 'Malfoy manor'. We were pulled in all different directions, but his grip didn't falter. We tumbled out of the fireplace and I got up, his wrist finally gone from mine. I then fought the urge to kick him and instead ran up to my room where I grabbed a random bag and began stuffing as many clothes in it as possible. I gave up on fighting the tears and a few fell down my face.

"Where do you think you're going?" Father said from the doorway. I reached for my wand, and as soon as I grabbed it, he muttered a spell and it flew out of my hand into his. I went to go and grab it from him, but before I could get to him he had already stepped out of my room and closed the door, and a lock sounded. I grabbed the handle and tried to twist it and screamed out in frustration when it didn't turn. I then moved to the balcony, the bag that I had haphazardly packed, lying forgotten on the floor.

The intricately molded silver handle didn't budge as I tried to turn it. I banged my fist on the glass in frustration and felt it waver slightly. Getting an idea, I punched the glass and a small crack appeared. Ignoring the pain, I hit it again and again until the glass had shattered completely. I looked down at my hands and my knuckles were oozing blood, small glass shards sticking out of them. Before I could step out onto the balcony the glass flew back together. Then, there was red starting to appear on the glass, curving to form the words 'I think not'. I screamed out in frustration before hearing a pop. I turned around and almost sobbed in happiness.

"Scor, I am so glad you're here!"