Transfixed: A Draco Malfoy Fanfiction

Chapter 37

My eyes grew wide as I looked at the old book lying beside me, plain and unassuming. It was the same copy from when I was a little girl, maybe 5 or 6 years old. I had never read the stories myself, because they were always read to me. But that was over a decade ago. What could possibly be in there that would explain something about me? The stories were works of fiction, right?

I knew I should have gone back to sleep, but I couldn't contain my curiosity and reached for the book instead. I began to flip through the stories one at a time: The Warlock's Hairy Heart, The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, The Fountain of Fair Fortune... All brought a nostalgic smile to my face. Then, I found it: The Tale of the Deathly Hallows. My eyes breezed over the page as I began to read the timeless story, but it soon became clear that this was not the same version as the one in Hermione's book. This one was different.

It began the same, telling the tale of the three Peverell brothers who escaped death while on a perilous journey. Death felt cheated, but he was cunning, and fashioned a gift for each of the three brothers to prize them for their bravery. For the eldest, a wand more powerful than any other. For the second brother, a stone that would bring back loved ones from the dead. But the youngest brother wanted something that he could use to conceal himself, so Death gave the young man his own cloak of invisibility.

After that page ended, it was clear that the following page had been ripped out of the book; I could see the tattered remains near the binding. Intrigued, I flipped through the rest of the book, looking for any loose pages. When I couldn't find anything, I grew frustrated. It seemed obvious the story of the Deathly Hallows was the one my dad was referring to, but the story was clearly unfinished.

I flipped the book over and rather violently shook it, hoping something would fall out. Nothing did.

I went back to the first page and decided to read the thing from front to back, assuming something would jump out at me eventually. Just as I began reading "The Warlock's Hairy Heart," on page 1, the light in the hallway flickered on, and I threw my head back on the pillow, stuffing the book and box under the covers.

Gently, the door opened, and a dark figure peeked their head inside. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that whoever was coming to check on me would close the door and just leave me alone.

After a moment, the door closed softly, and the hall light was turned off. I opened my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever was in the book could wait for another time. Daylight was going to break in just a few hours, and I needed to get some sleep. As quietly as I could, I crept out of bed and put the brown box back inside my trunk. The final mystery Dad left me would have to remain unsolved for the night.

...

By some miracle, I managed to sleep soundly for about three hours before the morning sun woke me up by streaming through my window. I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom.

Inside the bathroom was a white vanity, a large shower and an even larger claw-foot bathtub. Compared to the darkness of the rest of the house, the white fixtures in the bathroom seemed almost blinding. I stepped in the shower and flinched as the tap came out cold. Slowly, the water began to grow warmer, and I tilted my head back as I breathed in the steam.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the Dark Mark, hoping that by some miracle it had disappeared in the night. But there it was clear as day. It all started coming back; looking into the eyes of my professor as I killed her, casting a Dark Mark into the sky, pledging myself to the group of people that ended my father's life... I couldn't stand it.

I began to scrub viciously at the mark, hoping that it would disappear if I used enough force.

"Please, get off!" I cried in distress as I continued to scrub at it, the hot water burning my skin. "Get off!"