The Twin: a Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter 47

As we followed I hummed Follow The Yellow Brick Road, from the Wizard Of Oz. Ron and the twins had me watch it over the summer. They thought it was muggle rubbish, because of the evil witches. I actually quite enjoyed it.

We passed a few cottages, but eventually she turned to a gate. She led us thorough the garden, which was overgrown as the last one. She went to the door and fumbled with the keys, until she got it unlocked. She stepped over to let us pass.

She smelled bad. Or the house did. As I walked passed her, I held my breath, trying not to wrinkle my nose, unlike Harry, who did. The odor of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes, and stale food intensified, as the little old lady unwound her shawl.

"Bathilda?" Harry asked again. She nodded again. Harry's hand went to his chest, as if to itch it. I knew that the locket was bothering him, some how. Or he was wondering that if Bathilda had the sword. Bathilda scooted pass Hermione, and vanished into the sitting room.

I had this feeling that this wouldn't be good. Not that feeling in the pit of your stomach. Mine in my scar. I looked over to Harry to see if his was bothering him, as well. No. It wasn't really bothering me, though. It felt like, the scar was telling me I wouldn't get hurt. That I was safe. But I couldn't trust that feeling.

"I'm not sure about this," Hermione breathed.

"Look at the size of her, Hermione," Harry whispered. "If we wanted to, we could easily overpower her. Listen, I should of told you two, I knew she wasn't all there. Murial called her gaga-"

"Come!" called Bathilda from the other room. Hermione jumped and cliched our arms.

"It's okay," Harry said. Hermione still looked frightened as he pulled us into the next room. Bathilda was lighting candles. The lit room looked even dirtier than the foyer. The room smelt like meat gone bad. When was the last time someone cleaned this place? I saw that she seemed to have forgotten magic, as well. She lit the candles clumsily by hand, when she could of easily have done it as magic. I walked forward.

"Let me do that," I told her. I took the matches from her frail hands. I went around lighting the candles, as she watched me. The last candle I lit, there were pictures around it. I saw some tiny movements in the pictures, behind the dust. I turned my head a little, to see Bathilda fumbling with some logs,

"Tergeo," I muttered under my breath, my wand pointing at the pictures, from underneath my cloak. The dust vanished, and I saw that a lot of pictures were missing from the large, and ornate frames. I wondered if she or someone, maybe a relative of hers, has removed them. I was about to turn around to Hermione, but a picture had caught my eye.

It was of a boy. A golden haired merry-faced thief I saw in one dream over the summer. A young man, that in the dream, had perched on Gregorvitch's windowsill.

"Mrs...... Miss Bagshot," I said shakily. "Who is this?"

Bathilda was standing in the middle of the room, watching Harry light the fire for her.

"Miss Bagshot," I repeated. I took the picture in my hands. I walked over to her slowly. Flames burst up in the fireplace. Bathilda looked up at my voice. "Who is this person?" I pushed the picture toward her.

She peered solemnly, then up at me.

"Do you know who this is?" I asked slowly. "This man? Who is he?"

Bathilda looked vague. Had Rita Skeeter took her memories, when she interviewed her for the book.

"Who is this man?" I repeated.

"Hallie, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"This picture, Harry, it's the man we saw in our dream. The thief who stole from Gregorvitch. Please," I said to Bathilda. "Who is this man?"

She only stared at me.

"Why did you ask us to come with you Bathilda?" Harry asked. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?" Harry came and stood beside me. Bathilda shuffled towards us. She looked out in the hallway.

"You want us to leave?" Harry asked. Bathilda pointed at me and Harry, then herself, then at the ceiling.

"I think she wants us to go up with her," I said.

"Alright let's go then," Hermione said. She took a step forward. Bathilda shook her head quickly, then pointed at Harry and I, then her.

"She wants only Hallie and I to go," Harry told Hermione.

"Why not me!?" Hermione exclaimed, deeply frustrated.

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to only us," I told her.

"Do you really think she knows who you to are?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Positive," Harry said. "I really think she does.

"Be quick," she told us.

"Lead the way," Harry told Bathilda. She shuffled toward the staircase. The staircase was steep and narrow. My scar kept telling me that I was safe, but I still couldn't trust the feeling.

The staircase led to a door, which led into a low ceiling bedroom. It was pitch black and smelled terrible. Bathilda closed the door, which made it pitch black.

"Lumos," I muttered under my breath. My wand ignited, so did Harry's. I leaned toward Harry. Bathilda moved close to us.

"You are the Potter twins?" She asked.

"Yes, we are," I said. She nodded slowly.

"Have you gotten anything for us?" Harry asked. She didn't answer. She was staring at the wands.

"Have you got anything for us?" I asked, repeating Harry's question. She closed her eyes. I closed my eyes. I thought about how she wouldn't speak in front of Hermione, how when she did Hermione jumped in horror. How the place stank of something dead. How when she went up the steps easier than when she walked the flat ground. Then I realized this was all a trap. I opened my eyes quickly. Harry was still facing the old lady, who wasn't Bathilda Bagshot. I grabbed his arm as the old body collapsed, and a gigantic snake came pouring out of it.

"You are safe, my dear, you are safe," I heard a snakelike voice in my head. I felt that feeling, once more. That one safe feeling.

The snake lunged forward. It knocked Harry down. I heard Hermione yell something. I could not tell because I was paralyzed in place. Harry shot the snake backwards. I tried to help, but I realized I was actually frozen. He started yelling at me, but all I could do was stand there. I saw Hermione barge in. She looked at me. She ran towards me, as Harry shot spells at the snake. I tried to move. I felt cold. I ran through my mind, trying to think warm thoughts. Then I thought of my boys. Harry and Draco. When I first met them. My first kiss, all of Harry's and my arguments over silly stuff. All of it. I felt warmth. I felt my body functioning. I moved. I looked towards Hermione. She was helping Harry up, and I saw the snake slithering towards them. The snake prepared to strike. I ran forward, and I jumped in front of them, and felt fire, to much warmth, go throughout my leg, and everything went black.