The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Scent of Vanilla

September 23rd 1996

Ron was right. Malfoy did stare at her more than he used too. It wasn't entirely unusual, she noticed he used to sneer at her behind her back many times in their first and second year, especially after she denied any type of friendship with the pureblood. But he wasn't sneering at her now. As her eyes met his across the Great Hall he actually looked like he was in a daze. She waved an awkward hand, accompanied with some furrowed brows. It snapped him out of it, making him shake his head and frown back at her.

Sorry you were looking at me?

She shook her own head, returning to her meal.

"When are you seeing Dumbledore?" Ginny asked across the table.

"Now," Harper replied, spooning more mashed potato into her mouth as she noted it was nearly eight.

"Good luck," Hermione said as she went to stand.

Even though Harper didn't know the details of what Dumbledore wanted to meet about tonight, she knew it would be vital. She always wanted to be a part of anything pertaining to Voldemort. At least this time Dumbledore was using her as a source and actually trusting to discuss information with her. Last year she was left in the dark, she didn't understand what was happening to her and how she was seeing what she was seeing. It was terrifying and confusing. Ever since then, Harper demanded to be a part of anything to do with Voldemort and his actions.

She skipped up some stairs, nodding and sending smiles to some students passing in the halls. It was nice to not be treated as delusional this year. Her name was no longer plastered over headlines claiming she was mental. Now it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She was thankful the world believed her now and was seeing the truth as well.

As she crossed a bridge, a trio of girls were hurrying past, bursting into laughter and gossiping in hushed whispers. Harper merely gave them a weird look, but carried on. She turned around a pillar of the castle for the subject of the girls giddiness to come into view.

Jack Sloper had a girl pressed up against a wall, his hands on her hips and face practically smushed on hers. Harper couldn't recognise the female, she just saw blonde curls before she whipped her eyes away. First she went through shock. Then she felt a shiver of repulsion vibrate through her. Then she had the immediate urge to scratch her retinas out. In a second, she pirouetted on her heel and sped walked the opposite direction, hoping Jack didn't notice her.

She was wrong.

"Harp!" His voice called in the distance.

Her breath was bubbling in her throat, she didn't want Jack to think this affected her. Because it didn't, did it? She didn't care if he was with someone else.

"Harper!" His voice sounded closer, damn he was quick for someone with a Beater's build.

She turned, solidifying her expression into something neutral. No way was she about to make Jack believe she was jealous. Because she wasn't.

He finally reached her, offering a quick smile that she had stopped for him. "Harp," he breathed. "Let me explain-"

"You have nothing to explain," she deadpanned.

"No, I can't let you walk away after seeing that," he said and took a deep breath, calming his own heart from chasing after her. "She means nothing to me."

"Okay," she shrugged, keeping her face placid.

"I really mean it, we're just having-"

"Seriously," she raised a hand to stop him, "You don't have to explain yourself, Jack. If it helps your conscience, I truly don't want to hear it."