DROWNING [HARRY POTTER - BOOK 2]

i.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. However, the character of Nova Malfoy and her unique storylines remain my intellectual property.

The door slammed behind her as she ran into the room, her insides lurched and coiled forcing her forward with such power that she gripped the sink to steady herself. Old, frail skin began to bubble and long matted white hair curled and darkened. As the burning sensation eased, she stood up straighter; watching as muddy almond eyes lightened to a cool grey and wrinkles smoothed into nothingness. Blinking twice, her reflection returned. After a month stuck inside the musty smelling room as her potion brewed, the young witch had been glad to feel the sun on her face as she assumed the identity of one of the Hogshead's more disreputable patrons; she had soon learned that it was much easier to remain off the radar when disguised as someone that nobody particularly wanted to associate themselves with. The solitude had been lonely, though the girl knew that she had very little choice. After destroying the prophecy and facilitating in the arrest of many of the Dark Lord's followers, Nova knew that she could not return to Malfoy Manor. And so, she survived on her own for the first time in her life; near enough forgetting what her own voice sounded like. The only company being the bearded innkeeper with the kind eyes who thought more than he spoke as he continuously polished tankards with a dirty rag, and a rather curious and smelly old goat by the name of Matey. However, one good thing had transpired from her self-banishment. Too cautious to talk to anyone for an extended period of time - regardless of the polyjuice potion - the young witch had spent her time getting acquainted with the portion of her magic that she had often tried to neglect. With use, her legilimency appeared to have grown in power, allowing her to read people with a simple glance. It had become a game of sorts.

Digging in the pocket of the robes that now drowned her, Nova wrestled out a crumpled yellow envelope and hastily ripped it open to reveal a clump of hair that perfectly blended the colour of her twin brother's hair and her own unruly curls, accompanied by a beautiful ring that belonged to her mother and a number of words scrawled onto parchment: Mother wanted you to have this. See you soon. D. A gentle smile twisted her lips at the thought of her brother as she ran a finger over the dried ink before sliding the ring onto her right hand, casting a slight shrinking charm to ensure it fit. Stepping over the mirror that her nightmare had shattered, she approached her cauldron. Bile rose in her throat and her stomach churned at the thought of shifting into the shape of another so soon and so the youngest Malfoy chose to trust that her male counterpart had delivered precisely what she had asked for. Stuffing the loose hairs into a vial, she secured them in her mokeskin bag with a flask of her potion. In case of emergencies. Finally, she peeled the large tattered robes from her petite body; her nose crinkling as the motion of the fabric released the foul odour of their original owner.

As the witch discarded the clothing and pulled one of her own woollen sweaters over her head, a knock rattled the door. The hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention and her hand instinctively reached for her wand. The door shook once more. Tiptoeing, she held her breath and clutched her wand much tighter. Her knuckles white. A trembling hand reached for the doorknob. The handle wobbled as the wood was pounded a third time. Taking a deep breath and running her tongue over her bottom lip, Nova finally built the courage to face one of the thousand possible outcomes that flashed through her mind. Her pulse jumped in her throat, forcing her to swallow heavily; her heart drowning out even the loudest of knocks on the opposite side of the dark wooden barrier.

Slowly, she wrenched the door open.

"Wayward witch courier service!" A pair of identical grins, and a flash of red hair.

Fighting her instincts, the Malfoy girl raised her wand: "Which of my textbooks did you set fire to last year?"

The twins looked at one another before a lazy smirk spread across George's expression: "Trick question." He answered, lackadaisically leaning against the frame of the door as the younger girl studied him. "It was you who set fire to my textbook. Although, I believe it was..." The Weasley cradled his jaw in feigned thought before finishing his sentence in synchronisation with Fred: "The Standard Book of Spells." A sigh of relief passed her lips as they twisted into a smile. Before she could think, she had all but launched herself at the older boy; her arms flinging around his neck. "Hello to you too." He chuckled, returning her embrace.