Entranced (Draco Malfoy)

•twenty-six•

Dove Taylor smiles at her favorite first year, Creedence Blackthorn, waving a little as she's on her to exit the Common Room. He hurriedly stands from the couch, fully dressed. Excitedly, he rushes over to the sixth-year, a wrapped present in hand.

"Happy birthday, Dove!" He whisper-yells. "Also, happy Hallowe'en!"

Tears burn her eyes unexpectedly, "Thank you, Creedence," she says warmly, taking the present from him. "Happy Hallowe'en to you as well."

"Open it!" He encourages.

Grinning, she opens the small present, taking out a Sneakoscope. A Sneakoscope is a Dark Arts detector, one she'd learned about in fourth year with the Professor Moody imposter. It releases shrill sounds when an untrustworthy person is near or when a bad event takes place nearby. 

Gratefulness surges through her, and she doesn't bother to fight a tear rolling down her cheek, "Thank you, Creedence. This is lovely." 

She leans forward hesitantly, hugging him tightly. He hugs her back with equal fervor, and she's glad the Sneakoscope doesn't go off. She can trust him. Thank Godric. Relief soars through her. This is the best gift she could have gotten. 

"You're welcome," he squeaks, face red with embarrassment. "Go on to your boyfriend!"

She laughs a bit, waving a goodbye and walking out of her Common Room. A huge smile crosses her features as she sees her platinum-blond haired boyfriend leaning across a wall, waiting for her. He looks tired but happy to see her.

"Hi, Draco," she greets softly, sweeping forward to kiss him passionately. She relaxes into his touch, "I love you."

He draws back in slight confusion, a smile tugging at his lips, "I love you, too, Dove. Happy birthday."

"Thank you." She hugs him, closing her eyes. "Guess what Creedence got me?" 

"What?" Draco asks, sounding interested.

"A Sneakoscope," she squeals, pulling it out and showing it to him. "It's perfect!"

"Thank Merlin," he moans aloud, "Something else to protect you." 

She laughs, "Oh, hush."

"I got you something, of course, and I think you'll like it," he smirks.

"Do not propose," she snaps quickly, looking at him warily.

He shakes his head at her, "You always think I'm going to propose." He pulls a box out of his robes, "Here." She doesn't hesitate in opening it, revealing a black journal. She smiles, running her fingers over the cool leather. She'd been complaining that she didn't have anything to write in anymore. "There's something wicked about this."

"What's that?" She muses happily, not really even caring; her fingers are itching to write in it. 

He pulls out an identical journal, holding it up, "Whatever you write in that, I can see. So when we're apart, I know if you need me." He hands her another box, "And here's a journal for you to do your writings in. Only you can open it."

"Thank you," she says emotionally, taking them from him. "I appreciate you."

"You can now legally do magic outside of Hogwarts," he praises her, kissing her. "I can't even do that yet."

"I'm cooler," she teases.

He rolls his eyes, grabbing her hand like second nature, "I swear you stole my ego." A little tentatively, he responds, "You're being a little more yourself today." She only shrugs a little, stepping a little closer to him as they walk. "I'm glad."

"I don't know why," she admits. "I just really want today to be a good day, if only because it's my birthday." 

"Then today will be a good day," he promises.

"Draco, something has been rolling in my mind lately," she starts, voice wavering slightly. "That person who used Polyjuice Potion to be Harry in Diagon Alley? What if that was the task holder's first step in their plan? What if they weren't leading us anywhere and just wanted to frighten us?" 

"Then they succeeded," Draco says grimly, tightening his grip on her hand. "I don't know, love. I wish I did." 

"I'm just glad I have you."

"You'll always have me." 

-

The day passes quickly, Draco doing anything and everything to ensure his girlfriend has an amazing seventeenth birthday. After the great Hallowe'en feast, the two sit together in the library as per usual, simply talking.

"Uh, hey," Harry greets nervously. 

Draco is immediately on alert, "Potter." 

"I know," the Gryffindor sighs, Hermione and Ron with him. "Dove, we just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

"Thank you," she whispers, not making eye contact. 

"I wanted to ask you something," Hermione says, voice too rigid. 

"Okay," the Hufflepuff drawls, narrowing her eyes a little.

"When were you going to tell us about your life being in danger?" She asks, voice cold.

The Gryffindor holds up a piece of parchment that clearly says 'Dove Malfoy' atop it. The girl in question freezes, her hand automatically going to hold Draco's. He pulls her closer to him immediately, already having a cover story prepared.

"We got married," he says smoothly. All eyes go to him with clear shock. "We knew the Dark Lord was getting stronger, and we know there's a possibility we won't make it out of this alive. We got married in front of my mother so she could see it. Because of our marriage and me being hidden away, she's in danger." 

"W-wait a minute," Harry stutters. "You're married. At sixteen?"

"I'm seventeen, but we got married at sixteen, yes," Dove confirms, going along with it. "The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters want to hurt Draco for disappearing. I'm the best way to do it."

"What's a task holder?" Ron presses, Hermione sending him a grateful look.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the Slytherin mutters. 

"Why would the task holder be trying to kill you?" Harry interrupts.

"We don't know," the Hufflepuff snaps, standing abruptly. "And your questions are ill-received. I don't question what you're going through or your motives, so don't dare try to question mine or Draco's. If you'll excuse us, Professor Snape requested our help with something." 

"Why?" Harry utters.

Draco glares at him, whatever tolerance they'd built of each other long gone, "Leave us alone, Potter. Don't forget you're the reason she got hurt."