Chapter 8 : The White Wizard
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The White Wizard
O what the f*** had I done! I felt horrible about it later. But I have to admit it didn’t stop me from letting it happen again. Draco had said he loved me. He wanted me. And it was just too easy to give him what he wanted instead of having to think and be responsible. He had a way of coming up to me with a self-confidence and determination that made me feel as if it wasn’t my choice at all whether I slept with him or not. And I needed those moments when I felt I wasn’t responsible because I was feeling lost more and more everyday, scared and understanding less and less of what I was doing.
Contrary to what I had promised them I of course did not tell Ron and Harry about my feelings for Draco. Neither did I tell Hermione or Julia. I was too confused. It seemed real, but I knew none of it was.
One Saturday morning in early December Draco and I went for a nice long walk around the lake. I was thinking about this absurd plan once again. As long as he kept successfully convincing the Death Eaters that he was only seeing me to keep up his pretence of having abandoned his old ways, they were not going to chuck him out. And then what was I going to do? Would I just keep on living here in Hogwarts in a world that wasn’t mine, in a life that wasn’t mine? Lying to him? Lying to everybody else as well? And what would happen if I ever did tell him all that I was hiding from him? Even if he did not get mad and angry at me, what was it, that we had in common? I was seven years older then him living a life (well, normally) that had nothing to do with him and where there was no space for him.
I had never said to him that I loved him. Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I was feeling, and how could I have known? Nothing that happened was real here. Sometimes I thought it maybe didn’t matter. Sometimes I thought, I did love him. But I just couldn’t be sure of anything. So where was this leading? It was the weirdest situation ever. I knew Draco really did love me. And I knew he wasn’t all evil. He was genuinely kind to me, he loved to laugh, he enjoyed his freedom at Hogwarts far away from his father, that Snape bloke or any other Death Eater and wasn’t afraid to show me his weaknesses. At the same time he still lied to me, was still keeping things for me, spying for Voldemort and didn’t admit it. He had said he would leave the dark side if he could be sure his life was safe, but I wasn’t convinced. There was darkness in him, I had seen it. It was in the way he spoke about Hagrid and in the glances he shot Hermione and other muggleborn witches and wizards. He thought I hadn’t noticed, but I had. This side of him was as genuine as the kind side that I knew. It must have been weirdest for himself, supporting Voldemort and his ideas and at the same time falling for a muggle girl, because I believed his feelings for me were real. I couldn’t even imagine what he must be feeling. I was just anxious which side of him would finally overcome the other.
We were just strolling along the lake when a great tawny owl approached us, a letter tied to her leg and landing on his shoulder. Draco took the letter and the owl set off again.
“Uh oh”, said Draco after reading it.
“What is it?”
“Well it’s my father. He’s telling me to meet him in Hogsmeade. Tomorrow. He wants you to come as well.”
“Yeah. He said he heard about us spending so much time together and now wants to meet you. What he really wants to do probably is tell you to go back to your muggle home and leave your fingers of me, his pureblood son and heir.”
So I was going to meet the evil father.
“We won’t be allowed into Hogsmeade tomorrow sure, will we?”
“We will probably. I’d be very surprised if he hadn’t ways to even make McGonagall do what he wants her to. He’s got ways to get everything he wants. Listen.” He stopped walking and loked at me seriously. “You don’t have to go. You owe him nothing. If you say you can’t be bothered he will have to live with it.”
“No, I’ll meet him.”
Draco had been right. McGonagall knew all about the “invitation” already when I went to ask her permission to visit Hogsmeade the next day and I was allowed to go.
“Lucius Malfoy” she said though, “has an evil mind, Helena. Evil, but brilliant. He can think of all sorts of plots and ways to destroy people he dislikes. I will not leave you go on your own, there will be members of the Order in your vincinity all the time. I think it might be important though that you meet him. It might be what we were waiting for and lead to young Mr. Malfoy’s fall from grace with the Death Eaters finally.”
So we walked over to Hogsmeade the next day. I was wearing the beautiful top Hermione had given me for my birthday to let him know immediately that I wore muggle clothes and was not ashamed of being a muggle. I had done my hair extra carefully and put on a bit of make up to show him I was a very pretty muggle at that.
Draco walked ahead of me into the Three Broomsticks. I knew who his father was even before we had reached the table where he was sitting. I saw the pale light through the window fall upon whiteblond hair the same colour as Draco’s. It couldn’t be anybody else. He was sitting very straight. His robes were black and green and even I could see they were of very high quality. His eyes weren’t as grey as his son’s, but piercingly blue. They were destinctively proud and cold. His hair however looked weird. It was much longer than Draco’s, and I couldn’t help but think of Christopher Lee in The Lord of the Rings.
He rose when we had reached the table.
“Draco”, he said formally.
“Father”, said Draco just as stiffly and they shook hands. Then Lucius Malfoy turned to me and looking down on me gave me the most arrogant smile. Not only did it never reach his eyes, but they remained just as obviously full of loathing as before. And I was shocked to find myself thinking that he was incredibly attractive.
“Miss Granger”, he said. I gave him the widest smile. “I’m delighted to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure”, I said and we shook hands. It can’t have been too hard for him as he was wearing black leather gloves, but I appreciated that he was showing manners.
“What would you like to drink?”
He looked at me with an unnerving glint in his eyes and a smirk around one corner of his lips, as if expecting me to do something really silly any moment. But I was unimpressed by it, I had seen the exact same look much too often before on Professor Schneemann’s face to allow it to unsettle me. And I didn’t care what Lucius Malfoy thought of me, really, even if I did something stupid. His whole superior attitude was wasted on me because I just didn’t have a reason to be afraid of him. There were members of the Order among the guests in the pub. I didn’t know who they were, but McGonagall had told me so, so I felt very safe.
“I would like some mead, please” I said, still smiling and trying to look as if nothing could make me happyer than sitting here with him. Still wearing that superior expression on his face he raised a hand and Madam Rosmerta came over to our table. He ordered our drinks without looking at her, but I gave her a smile.
I could tell Draco next to me was very nervous. He was terribly afraid of his father and under the table I placed my hand onto his leg to give him a bit of strength and support.
“Now Draco”, said Lucius Malfoy with a smile that made him look rather menacing, “Miss Granger here really is a blossoming beauty.”
“Oh” said I, “please call me Helena.”
“Well, Helena”, he said, “I am glad you were able to come and meet me on such a short notice.”
“Sure”, I said politely.
“And you Draco? You didn’t have any other plans for this afternoon?”
“How do you like your classes?”
“The NEWT level magic is fascinating.”
“You don’t have any difficulties?”
Madame Rosmerta brought our drinks. Again Draco’s father didn’t look at her.
“And tell me how did your last Quidditch matches go?”
“We won against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.”
“Which means you got beaten by Gryffindor”, said Lucius Malfoy and gave his son a condescending look. I was disgusted. I had never understood why Quidditch was so important especially when it was Slytherin and Gryffindor playing against each other anyway, but he didn’t have to make his own son feel bad because his team had lost to Gryffindor.
“Yes, Father”, said Draco in a neutral voice.
“Harry Potter caught the Snitch before you.” He SPIT the name.
“Yes father”, said Draco bravely, “how is mother?”
“She is well. She has been seeing her sister rather often lately.”
I swear I have never followed a conversation like this before. It sounded like some fake conversation between two people who didn’t know each other very well but didn’t like each other much. I wondered how much longer Lucius Malfoy would keep up the pretence before he would tell me to clear off and take my filthy muggle fingers of his precious pureblood son.
I squeezed Draco’s knee slightly.
“So Helena” that horrible father turned his arrogant look at me now, “tell me then, how you came to be at Hogwarts, the first muggle ever, I believe, to have been allowed to dwell in the noble halls of wizarding wisdom?”
“Well”, I said, smiling at him, and then I told him the whole story that McGonagall had made up for me about the muggle minsitery setting up a top secret office of Non-magical-Magical Co-operation and me doing field research for it at Hogwarts.
“As you are surely aware” I concluded, “the heads of your ministery and mine see it fit to tie new bonds between your community and the non-magical british citizens in the light of the threat imposed on our world by this Dark Wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort.”
I emptied my glass and looked into his face perfectly calm and at peace.
All traces of his menacing amusement had left his face. There was nothing but pure loathing and disgust distinguishable in the look that he gave me.
“And I thought with Dumbledore as headmaster we had seen the worst of it”, he said softly.
“I’m sorry?” I asked him politely.
“Draco, where are your manners? Don’t you see Helena’s glass is empty? Go and get your lovely friend another mead.”
So it was coming now.
The moment Draco had left the table the evil sorcerer leant over closer to me and hissed:
“Muggle feet besmudging the ancient floors of the noble school that once Salazar Slytherin himself walked upon. I am ashamed to witness it!”
His voice was barely audible, and yet the efect wasn’t wasted on me. There were shivers running down my spine, but I wasn’t entirely sure whether that was due to his threats or due to the way his voice sounded hoarser and, well, more seductive now. I managed not to let him know though. Instead I managed to give him an arrogant smile that was supposed to tell him: I would like to see you try and get me out of it!
I saw cold fury in theses disturbingly blue eyes.
“Are you foolish enough to believe you, a mere filthy muggle, could stand a chance against me, Lucius Malfoy?”
I couldn’t believe myself, I was sitting there listening to him insulting me and at the same time thinking how mesmerising those eyes were and trying not to look at his lips. I don’t know. His arrogance... was so horribly attractive.
“I will deal with my son in due time. But I am telling you this, mugglegirl, stay away from him.” He raised his eyebrows. “I do not yet know all that there is to this plan, but do not underestimate me. I know you are doing this to put my son in danger with the Dark Lord’s faithful followers. If you don’t stay away from my pathetic disappointment of a son, I promise I will kill you.”
He gave the most menacing parody of a smile I had seen on his face so far. And I morbidly and sickly thought that threatening to kill me made him even more sexy. He must have felt I wasn’t fully impressed by his threats, though I sure as hell hoped he didn’t have a clue why I didn’t give him my full attention. He added:
“I assure you I am not jesting.”
I somehow got myself together and returned into the present. I remembered that there were members of the Order all around me and I was surprised how calm I felt. I didn’t give over to fear. I didn’t say anything to his threatenings either. Instead I told him exactly what I was thinking.
“I am sorry”, I said, now taking to leaning forwards towards him, “to see you are so full of hatred.”
A surprised expression was visible on his face for a split second.
“Don’t you think your life would be much happyer if you allowed yourself to open up towards love and kindness?”
The white wizard now looked even more disgusted than before, and I wouldn’t have thought it possible before.
“Ridiculous” he said.
“What did you feel when you held Draco in your arms for the first time after he was born?”
Now he looked as if he was close to laughing.
“Did you think you had a son now who would grow to fulfil all your expectations and live his life only for the one purpose of being what you want him to? Because I think you should right then have realised that from this moment onwards YOU should forget everything that YOU ever wanted and only strive to get and do everything that was needed to make your son happy.”
Right then Draco came back with my glass and sat down again.
“Draco, your charming friend is most delightful company” said Saruman and raised his glass to me in a mock gesture. And I raised my glass as well and after giving him an arrogant sneer that matched his own drained the drink that this Nazi wizard was paying me.
This story is going to be tough. Please let me know what you think!
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