Chapter 3 : Information
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The blonde man slowly opened his eyes to a shadow floating above him. He shivered at the sight of the masked creature, backing himself against the brick wall.
“Finally awake Malfoy?” A man’s brisk voice said from beyond the darkness. He came into full view beside the floating shadow. He was wearing a long black cloak and the only colour that seemed to come out of him that moment was his red hair that was also growing grey.
The blonde man did not reply, nor let his sight leave the shadow that hovered back and forth in the room.
“Ah…are you frightened of dementors, Lucius?” The man in the black cloak asked, pacing the room himself. “That is a surprise. I thought they used to work for You-kno--I mean--Voldemort. You were in the inner circle of Voldemort’s group--the most loyal servant of them all, you claimed. And yet, here you are… so many years after Voldemort’s downfall, you’re still going about the old ways. You attacked a muggleborn. Why?”
Lucius’ gaze finally left the dementor when it left him to guard the door. He focused his attention on the red head man, his pale face producing a vicious smirk. “You think you’re so great don’t you, Weasley? You’ve got dementors doing your dirty work. Pity, I thought you would be used to doing it by yourself by now.”
Mr. Weasley’s face turned red, but he quickly turned his back to Lucius. “I wouldn’t talk so high now Malfoy. You are in a lot more trouble than you think. Now, I want answers, not nonsense! Tell me, why did you attack that muggleborn nurse?”
Lucius scoffed. “Why don’t you waste your pathetic time asking that mudblo---"
“Silence!” Mr. Weasley bellowed. “I will not allow that kind of language here!”
Lucius rolled his eyes and stood up, his smirk reappearing. “Oh…of course, I had forgotten. You love their useless kind. You love those worthless, weak---"
“Dementors!” Mr. Weasley said at once, and Lucius fell to the floor, whiter than ever. A dementor floated around his body, sucking the happiness out of him.
“That’s enough.” Mr. Weasley said again and the dementors backed off. “Now, Lucius you will talk. I want answers and you will tell them to me--and it’s your choice--either the easy way or the hard way.”
Lucius glared at him with the last bit of energy he could produce at the moment.
Hermione stood with her shoulder against the kitchen wall, with her arms folded across her chest. She watched Malfoy with amusement. He was touching the walls and--slowly--making his way to the fridge, he smiled to himself when he opened it. He wanted a bottle of butterbeer, but accidentally, he grabbed a bottle of V8 juice instead.
He took a sip and spit it out immediately, a look of disgust on his face. Hermione couldn’t help, but to laugh.
“You were there the whole time?” Malfoy asked, placing the bottle back in the fridge and shutting it.
“Yeah, pretty much.” Hermione went to the spot were he spit out the juice and she wiped it clean with a swish from her wand.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Draco looked violated. “Did you think that was funny?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did think it was funny. I haven’t had one bit of entertainment since I’ve gotten here and I didn’t want to ruin the only chance I had of watching some.”
Draco frowned. “I hope you know that I’m the patient here and--"
“Yes, yes, I know. You’re the one who’s blind.” Hermione mocked, rolling her eyes. I’m tired of Malfoy’s complaining and it’s only been half a day.
“I’d like to go sit down now, or perhaps you’d like me to sit down myself so I’d fall over for your entertainment?” Draco said sarcastically.
“Now that would be hilarious.” At the look from Draco’s face, Hermione quickly said, “I’m just kidding! It’s harmless fun.” She hesitantly touched Draco’s hand and led him into the living room, releasing him to sit on the couch.
Draco didn’t say anything, but looked as if he were in thought. “Can I ask you something Jean?” He asked so softly and politely that Hermione thought he might have been under the Imperius Curse.
“Yes. What’s on your mind…Draco?”
“Where did you go to school? I mean, you’re obviously from a wizarding school, but where did you go? Was it in London?”
Hermione hesitated. Why is Draco all of a sudden interested in knowing things about me? “Why do you want to know?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m bored out of my mind just thinking to myself all day. I would like a civil conversation for once.” Draco folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the couch cushion.
“I still don’t think its right. I mean, we’re two strangers who don’t know anything about each other---"
“--Which is exactly why I think we should get to know one another. The only way that can happen is if we actually communicate.”
Hermione was taken a back. Draco was never so refined before. It was a bit creepy.
“Okay, then. What do you want to know?”
“First of all, where did you go to school?”
Hermione inhaled a long breath and waited a few seconds before releasing it. The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the silence. “I went to Beauxbatons Academy.”
Draco’s eyes shined with excitement. “I remember that school! They came to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. Were you there as well Jean?”
“Um--I actually—I don’t really remember.”
“How old are you?”
“Then you must have been there at Hogwarts the same time I was. I’m also 23 and I was in my fourth year when the Triwizard Tournament was held. How could you not know about it? That was when that Diggory boy had been killed. Don’t you remember?” Draco pressed on.
“Oh---right! Hogwarts! The school with the—um--scary maze and dragons.”
“So you were there during the Triwizard Tournament, right?”
“Yes, I was. I just---erm---forgot. It’s been a while.” Hermione stood up to leave, but Draco’s voice stopped her once more.
“Did you go to the Yule Ball?”
“What? Oh, yes, the Yule Ball. Yes—er---I remember that.”
Draco sat forward with anticipation. “Who did you go with?”
Hermione’s anger passed its peak. “That’s none of your business Mr. Malfoy! You have no right of asking me such personal questions! Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to make dinner and I do not wish to be bothered unless it’s regarding your meal.” With that, Hermione stormed out of the living room and headed straight into the kitchen.
Draco looked as if he had been slapped across his face. Was it something I said?
A brown haired plump woman walked alone at night in the graveyard. She lightly hummed to herself as she passed the gravestones.
“Millicent,” A voice whispered behind the woman. She turned around and instead of pulling out her wand; she pulled out a piece of parchment instead.
“About time you showed up. I was starting to think you changed your mind,” the woman named Millicent said, handing the paper to the man.
“Don’t be silly. I would never give up an opportunity to succeed on the dark side.” The tawny man replied opening the parchment and reading it in one quick glance. “And you say that these orders came from Lucius directly?”
“Do you have any doubts, Blaise?” Millicent asked sceptically, placing her chubby hands on her waist.
The man took a long breath of the chilly air. When he released it, he replied, “No, not at all. If Lucius wants her dead, then so be it.”
“Alright then Malfoy, now you’ll give me the answers I want,” Mr. Weasley said, sitting at a table in the middle of a dark room with only the fire torch in the corner lighting the room.
Lucius was seated across from Mr. Weasley, looking disgruntled. His face was paler than ever and he grabbed at his throat as if he was gasping for air.
“Tell me, why did you attack Nurse Carrie?” Mr. Weasley asked at once.
Lucius couldn’t hold it in, “I wanted information.”
“Information? What kind of information?”
“Your son, Draco Malfoy? Why?”
“I wanted to know---his---his---whereabouts.” Lucius squeezed his own throat harder and harder, but the words kept spilling out.
“Why?” Mr. Weasley pushed.
“Because---because---I want to---I want to kill him!” Lucius stood up with such force that his chair was thrown backwards. He angrily tossed the table aside, pulling his blonde sleek hair. “I want to kill him!”
Two dementors came in at the sound of commotion and pinned a hysterical Lucius to the brick wall.
“Why do you want to kill him?!” Mr. Weasley questioned. “Why?! What did he do?! Why do you want to murder your own flesh and blood?”
But unfortunately for Mr. Weasley the dementors had sucked out parts of Lucius’ soul, making him unconscious.
Dinner wasn’t so bad. After Hermione had helped a quiet Draco upstairs to his room, she had made dinner in a breeze, but took her time in delivering it to Malfoy, for she didn’t feel like seeing him again.
He didn’t complain about anything this time, which surprised Hermione, but made her content even more.
She didn’t mind sitting by him this time because he was very quiet. Hermione thought he might have not realized she was still in the room with him.
She was very silent as she ate, as the only noise that came was from Draco’s fork hitting the bottom of his bowl.
When he was finished, Hermione reached him before he could call out her name again.
She grabbed the plate and bowl from him and left to the kitchen as Draco fell backwards onto his bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck, and with his eyes wide open, staring up. Well, for him, he wouldn’t be able to see anything since he was blind, but the way he was staring, he looked as if he wasn’t even blind. His cold eyes looked as if lost in thought.
Hermione turned the light off and shut the door, heading to the stairs with the dishes. She turned back at the foot of the steps, wondering what caused Malfoy’s sudden silence, but as she was thinking of this, she didn’t watch where she was stepping.
Her right foot slipped on the first stair and as she grabbed for the railing with her left hand, the dishes went crashing down the stairs.
Almost immediately another sound came from the bedroom. It sounded like a hard thump on the floor. The door swung open and out came a pallid Draco. He touched the wall and tried to make his way to Hermione.
“Jean? Jean, where are you?” He asked apprehensively. “Are you alright?”
“I’m---Oof!” Hermione started, but Malfoy had crashed right into her, accidentally pushing her into the railing.
Draco was pressed right against her. He keenly touched her arms, sliding his icy hands up to her shoulders. Hermione felt violated. She shoved Malfoy backwards with all her might. He stumbled into the wall opposite her.
They were both breathing like mad.
Draco spoke up first. “What the hell was that for?”
“You crashed into me!” Hermione accused.
“I can’t see Jean!” Draco retorted. “You act as if I did it on purpose!”
Hermione glared at Malfoy while he looked criticized.
“What happened?” Draco finally asked once more, his breath relaxed, but still heavy.
“I—I dropped the dishes. It was nothing.” Hermione went down the stairs in a hurry.
Draco listened as she left and touched the wall he was pushed forcefully in to, making his way back into his room.
It took him a while without Jean’s help. On his first try, he entered the restroom and then he finally reached his room, taking about twenty minutes just reaching his bed carefully.
He sat on his bed and pondered.
What’s her problem?
Millicent entered the Leaky Cauldron. Instead of taking a seat and getting something to eat or drink, she handed gold coins to the bartender and left the pub.
Outside, she wrapped her cloak tightly around her body for the night was growing colder.
She walked a few blocks before entering an alley. She was going to apparate, but a voice stopped her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Millicent swerved around and looked at the thin woman that stood before her. She pulled out her wand and a smile spread across her face.
“Why, hello Pansy,” Millicent smirked. “What brings you here?”
Pansy held her wand steady, coming closer to Millicent. “I’m here to get you for what you did.”
Millicent pointed her own wand in the same manner at Pansy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play pathetic with me! You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Pansy snarled. “Crucio!”
Millicent jumped to one side successfully missing the Unforgivable Curse. “Stupfey!”
Pansy was ready. “Ennervate!” Millicent’s curse countered, but she barely missed it.
“Conjunctivitis!” Pansy fell to the ground, nearly missing a blind curse.
“Petrificus Totalus!” She yelled at Millicent’s feet. She fell to the floor, her whole body wrapped in invisible ropes. Pansy stood up and brushed dirt off her robes. “Now I’ve got you.” She kicked Millicent in the stomach. “That was for Draco! And this…” She pointed her wand menacingly at her, “…is for me! Avad--"
Pansy’s wand was disarmed from her. She turned around and saw Blaise Zabini approaching her.
“Blaise! What are you doing?” Pansy barked.
Blaise picked up Pansy’s wand and pointed his own at her. “I’ve got orders Pansy.” He took a quick glance at a struggling Millicent.
“Orders? What orders? From who?” Pansy asked hysterically. She was cornered in the alley by Blaise.
“From Lucius Malfoy.”
Pansy cowered against the wall. Her eyes were wide and tearful. Her sight didn’t leave the wand’s tip that was aimed straight at her heart. “Wh--what ar--are you doing?”
“Sorry Pansy…” Blaise didn’t look one bit emotional. “Avada Kadavra!”
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