The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Orphan

September 30th 1996

Harper watched as Lavender and Ron held hands underneath the table in study hall. Ron gave her palm a little tickle while Lavender stifled a giggle. She swung her leg, rubbing it against his shin and causing Ron to smirk at her. Harper tried not to grimace, attempting to drown it out with the D.A.D.A essay in front of her. After Gryffindor won the Quidditch match, Lavender went on to show Ron just how she felt. Harper couldn't say she expected it, after all she was sure Lavender was interested in more... genteel men. But ever since they were inseparable and everywhere she turned her eyes were assaulted with them snogging breathlessly, grabbing each others bum and name calling.

If she had to hear Lavender call her near-brother Wonton, Ronny or Won-Won one more time she thought she might actually end up in St Mungo's like last years newspapers suggested.

Harper supposed she was being quite selfish in her distaste. After all, it was Hermione who took their relationship the hardest. She didn't have to ask to know Hermione was clearly jealous. Her and Ginny were up all night comforting the poor girl after the Gryffindor after party. The moment Lavender pulled Ron into a big, slobbery kiss, Hermione burst into tears. Ginny didn't take their relationship well either, feeling sick seeing her brother engage in such behaviour. So basically, Lavender and Ron weren't exactly the best company for the time being.

After scribbling another line of rubbish in her essay, she glimpsed up to see Lavender and Ron now rubbing noses, Lavender's eyes half-shut in delight. She puffed a sigh, maybe they were kind of cute in their own disgusting way.

"If I ever act like that around a boy, please hex me," Pavarti whispered to her.

A dimple-inducing smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "My pleasure."

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October 2nd 1996

It was taxing on Harper's heart to jump into these memories about Tom Riddle and see where the root of his evil stemmed from. Dumbledore and Hermione both constantly reminded her it was for the good of their mission. She didn't want to say it out loud, but she was beginning to doubt she was going to learn anything useful. Instead, the girl was starting to feel empathy. As a child of no parents herself, she knew what Tom would have gone through growing up in such a dark, desolate orphanage.

She sat deadened in Dumbledore's office, surrounded by weird magical contraptions and curious silver instruments emitting funny little noises. Noises that used to amuse her, but no more. A variety of pearly apparatuses decorated the room, whirring little puffs of lemony smoke. The walls were plastered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses. No matter how whimsical the office seemed, she detested being in here.

Being in his office meant more riddles, more sleuthing, more punishments or more problems. As of late, being in here left her troubled. She remembered the panic running through her veins like venomous fire when she dreamt of Mr Weasley being attacked by Nagini. The defeated battering of her heart after she witnessed the very Voldemort himself reincarnate. Her eyes stared at the argent vase opposite her, magical inscriptions carved over it. A year ago she stared at that very vase, the death of Sirius so fresh in her mind, her eyes still wept.

"Did you know then?" Harper asked the headmaster.

They had just finished watching Dumbledore's earliest memory of Tom Riddle. He visited him at his orphanage, revealing his heritage to him. Even then, he was a malevolent force to be reckoned with, stealing and bullying the other kids.

"Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous dark wizard of all time?" Dumbledore asked back. "No, I had no idea that he would grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him."