𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapter 18

Draco and I spent another day ignoring each other. This time, I was as much to blame as he was. I had escaped the common room early in the morning when realizing that the entire Slytherin house (or what was left of it) had decided to spend the day relaxing in that specific room. My first instinct was to head to the library. 

On the way there, I passed Harry and Ron, who were talking in hushed whispers.

"I can't get the memory from Slughorn," said Harry, seemingly ignorant to my presence. "And it's essential for finding out exactly what Voldemort is planning."

Making up my mind, I walked towards them.

"Potter," I said, startling the both of them. "I have a favour to ask you. Tell me what happened between you and Voldemort."

Ron flinched when hearing the name, but I really didn't care. Sure, names were powerful, but saying it often took away its powers. 

Harry's face was a mix of confusion and fear. "Why would you want to know?"

I looked him dead in the eyes. "I want to know what is going on. Why everyone is so afraid."

And that is how a Slytherin and two Gryffindors ended up sitting down in the middle of the hallway, discussing the most powerful sorcerer that ever existed. 

Harry had faced him nearly once every year since he had entered Hogwarts. 

The first year, Voldemort had been a mere presence, influencing a teacher. The second year, his essence was trapped in an old diary which he used to control Ginny. The third year, Voldemort had made himself scarce, instead relying on his most faithful servant, Ron's rat, which was in fact a human. 

I had to make Harry pause and repeat that sentence at least three times. 

Harry had met with his godfather, Sirius Black, rumoured to be the man that had led to the killing of Harry's parents. Even I had seen his picture in the muggle newspapers. In fact, that was a lie. Sirius had been played and the rat, Pettigrew, managed to escape. The fourth year was hard, Harry often had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing his story. Voldemort returned to life, killing a fellow student, Cedric Diggory, in the process. 

Potter still felt guilty, I could see that much. 

Harry managed to defeat the Dark Lord in a duel and escaped. No one but Dumbledore believed him when he tried to convince people that Voldemort was back. That was even harder than Cedric's death. A year later, the minister of magic went bullocks, convinced that Dumbledore was trying to take over with his lies and posted a spy inside Hogwarts. 

A teacher called Umbridge, who was as cruel as she was ugly, in Ron's words. The hatred in his words was enough to make me understand. 

Harry formed a resistance group with a few students. That was the year when his scar started burning more often and that he dreamed of Voldemort, seeing glimpses of his life. In one of those, he saw the Dark Lord killing Sirius and rushed out of the school to save him. But it was nothing more than a trick. There was a terrible battle between the death eaters, Voldemort, Harry and the Order of the Phoenix, a group created by Dumbledore. Voldemort escaped when the tide turned and Sirius died in the battle, killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. 

This time, Harry did cry, tears silently falling down his cheeks. I stayed silent, not exactly certain what to do.

"That's it," he said, wiping away the tears.

I awkwardly patted his shoulder. "For all it's worth, I'm sorry, Potter. You don't deserve what you've been through."

Ron eyed me wearily but Harry smiled weakly.

"Keep an eye on Draco for me, will you?" he asked.

I nodded. "See you boys another time. Happy holidays."

I was more shaken that I wanted to admit. I walked away from them, making my way to the library. I needed to distract myself and clear my mind. 

I skimmed shelf upon shelf, stacking books on my arms. I scanned the pages, over and over, trying to stock information in an overloaded brain. 

Do you recall a time where you check something only to forget about it a millisecond later? 

That is exactly how I felt. 

I huffed, throwing the book on the table. It was of no use. A small book caught my attention. I gently picked it up, not being able to help myself. Might as well spend time reading about something I enjoyed. I lost myself in a book about magical creatures, managing to forget the hunger that bothered me.

"Who's funeral is it?"

I jumped, shoving back my chair and preparing myself for a fight that would never come. Only too late did I notice Draco leaning against a bookshelf with an arrogant grin on his face. He gestured towards my outfit, and I caught the meaning of his words. 

I tapped my finger against my chin, looking around as if thinking before focusing on him. "I haven't quite decided yet."

He threw me an apple and I nodded my thanks, munching through it. 

I liked my outfit, thank you very much. Black leggings along with a long sleeve shirt of the same colour. Very rarely did they make shirts for girls that didn't have an exaggeratedly large v-neck.

"What are you reading?" he asked, plopping down on the chair next to mine.

I slowly sat back down, pushing the book towards him. When he was distracted, I couldn't help but stare. Did the boy always dress so fancy? Dressed in a dark green turtleneck, black jacket and jeans, he looked like a boy forced to dress fancy for a dinner with his mother. 

I tilted my head to the side. It suited him.

"What's your favourite creature?" Draco startled me out of my thoughts.

He rested his elbow on the table, leaning forward. 

I blinked, confused. "Most likely the hippogriff, but it could change."

The boy grimaced. "Nasty creatures. I nearly died because of one."

I gave him a pointed stare.

"Well, it broke my arm," he rectified.

I raised an eyebrow, opening the book once again. "Were you being rude?"

"Maybe," he muttered.

I laughed quietly, finishing the apple and flipping through a few more pages. Malfoy looked out of the window behind me, sighing loudly.

"I'm bored." He smirked, earning a glance from me. "How about we go for a broom ride?" I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "I'll bring you to the top of the tower."

I shut the book with a sharp movement, my attention caught. I shook my head, my lips twitching.

"You confuse me," I sighed.

His smirk widened. "Good. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Alright, Potion master," I sighed. "Let's see how well you can fly."

I've never seen a grin as sly as the one he gave me.