The Girl Who Lived ☆ D. MALFOY

Chapter 36

A/N- Hey, lovely readers! This chapter is hardly edited at all, my apologies. But I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1174

Y/n's POV:

I woke up warm and comfortable, and oddly refreshed. For three nights, I'd spent my late hours either staring at the ceiling or writing random poems and songs on a spare piece of parchment rather than sleeping. What changed?

"Rest well?" My eyes weren't open yet, so I just grinned lazily at the sound of his gravelly voice in my ear.

"What time is it?" I ask while sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my bleary eyes.

"About one o'clock in the afternoon." For a moment,  I forget it was the weekend, and a mini heart attack ripples through my chest before I relax and think over the tasks I need to complete the rest of the day. "Sit with me a bit longer?"

"Can we sit in the common room? By the fire." I ask, running my fingertips over the goose pimples littering my bare forearms.

"Why don't you roll down the sleeves of your sweater?" he asks.

What a stupid question.

"Never. I refuse to wear a long sleeved shirt without the sleeves rolled up." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me.

"I will never understand you."

"It is a matter of life and death, Draco." Shaking his head once more, he walks after me through the already open door and I flop down on the floor closest to the fire, pulling out my wand, and sending some of my schoolwork flying to me from my dormitory. Draco lays on his stomach in front of me and does the same thing, sending his schoolwork in front of him and flipping to the correct page in his charms book. He looks up at me from the text.

"Wanna help me?" Before I can respond, a tan first year boy walks up and taps me on the shoulder.

"Y/n?" he asks sheepishly.

"Bug off," Draco says, annoyed by the little boy's interruption. I ignore him.

"How can I help you?" I ask gently, trying to get the boy to stop looking at Draco like he'd grown three heads.

"P-Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this. Uh, he's been waiting." he stutters out rapidly while handing me a folded piece of parchment.

"Thank-" I start, but the boy is gone before I can even finish. I pick up my potions book and hit Draco hard on the shoulder with it.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"It was for scaring that poor boy! He didn't do anything to you," I scold, hitting him again with the book, making him rub the spot with his opposite arm.

"He was interrupting," he answers with a shrug.

"He was delivering a message." He merely shrugs again, to which I roll my eyes, but ignore it nonetheless. Familiar swirly handwriting meets my eyes as I open and read the slip of parchment sent by Professor Dumbledore. He wants to meet with me and Harry as usual, then with me alone to discuss a recent turn of events.

"I have to go," I say to the blonde boy in front of me, who frowns at my urgent need to leave.

"Can't it wait? We have a test soon." he whines. I shake my head.

"I'll help you after." Shoving the note in my pocket, I jump to my feet to lean over him. "Love you, see you later." I plant a quick kiss on his cheek before nearly jogging out of the common room to avoid questions. He doesn't- and can't- know about me and my brother's regular meetings with Dumbledore. Not with what we're learning about Voldemort. I trust Draco, of course I do, but knowing his connection to the Dark Lord, I can't risk it. For now, he can think it's solely about what happened a few days ago.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore greets with a nod as I push the heavy door open to enter his study. "Glad you could join us."

"Where were you?" Harry asks incredulously from an armchair in front of the headmasters desk. "We've been here for almost an hour."

"I fell asleep. I'm sorry," I snap sarcastically to him, but then remember the Professor sitting right beside the both of them, and put my head down. "Apologies, Professor." He just sat there with his same faint smile.

"That's alright, Y/n, However, I'm afraid we had to go on without you considering your tardiness. Harry, would you please explain what we've discussed so far?"

"He- Uh, the professor said that we should be making Slughorn's memory our top priority. And we looked at two more memories concerning Voldemort. One was about an older woman he later had killed for two trinkets of hers. Both related to Hogwarts houses, Hufflepuff and Slytherin." He looked to the professor for permission to continue. "The next one was Professor Dumbledore's. Voldemort returned to the school-"

"What? Why would he come back?" I ask in disbelief.

"If you'd let me finish, you would have your explanation." he says dryly, annoyed by my interruption. "He came back looking to be assigned a job."

"What position?" I ask, turning to the professor.

"I'm sure you can figure that part out for yourself." he says, looking over his spectacles.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts." I answer without hesitation after giving it a moment's thought. He simply nods to confirm my suspicions. "Do we believe that's what he was really here for?"

"Oh, I am certain he wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You see, we have never been able to keep a teacher in that subject for longer than a year since I refused to post Lord Voldemort." I nod, knowing that is all the information I am going to get on the topic for now. "Focus on that memory, both of you. Harry, you are dismissed. I wish to speak with your sister for a moment, then I'm sure you'll want to discuss your plans to retrieve what we need." Harry nods and bids the both of us goodbye before leaving through the large door I had entered not minutes before.

"You wish to speak, sir?" I say cautiously, turning to face the professor once again.

"Yes, about the recent turn of events we've faced." he says, just as eerily calm as usual.

"Sir, I swear, I had no intent to hurt anyone-"

"I'm well aware," he starts, holding up a hand to cut me off. "However, that doesn't explain how we are going to help you. You wish to control this, correct?"

"I'd rather get rid of it completely, to be quite frank." I say honestly, picking at my fingernails nervously.

"Do you know what 'it' is, Miss Potter?" he asks, folding his hands on top of the table and studying me over his half-moon glasses.

"No, sir. Do you?"

"Vaguely. What you possess is very rare. Seen only in the most powerful of wizards."

"What is it though?" I ask impatiently.

"Tenebris. You have the ability to control darkness itself."