[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 9 : Chapter 9: Dark Words
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 3|
Background: Font color:
Just a warning, if anyone is perhaps sensitive to bullying there is a little bit of that in this chapter. Just wanted to warn anyone who might find it upsetting.
“What about this?” Blaise popped up from behind the costume rack, holding a huge long black cloak.
Cyrus glanced up from the wig stand. “Try it on.” He did and did a little whirl. After a second he snuck up behind two third years.
Leaping up he hissed. “I want to suck your blood!” They squealed and ran, I laughed. “You need to find a cloak Draco, this is fun.” He spied Cho in the face painting section and began sneaking over.
“Nah, I got mum to send me my one I got with the Death-eaters.” I opened my bag and pulled it out with a flourish. I was never forced to wear it so I had no real shame or memories attached to it.
Cyrus’s eyes widened. “Now that’s a cloak.” I smiled, pulling it on.
“Holy crap.” They both stepped back, I pushed the hood back. It made it hard to see plus it was designed to keep your head dry in the rain. After a while it made your neck hurt trying to support it.
“I won’t wear it with the hood, otherwise it takes away the point of dressing as a vampire.” They both nodded. Plus the fact that people will recognise it as Deatheater.
“Hey guys?” We looked up. I pushed the cloak back in my bag, Cho was still nervous about being with us, not with Blaise at all but us altogether. “You will need face-makeup.” We just looked at her. “Otherwise you are going to be the worst vampires to walk this earth even with a brilliant cloak Draco.” I mock bowed. “So I’m buying this if you like it or not.” She walked off.
“I am not wearing make-up.” Blaise muttered behind her back, trying not to get in trouble.
“It was face paint actually, and why not.” They looked at me. “Your girlfriends doing it so she won’t mind but us two are single. We have no one to shame, full out vampire I say let’s do it.” I looked at the fangs. “No lipstick though.” I looked through them to the back. “Or mascara! I am not wearing mascara.” I heard a quiet cough. “What?” I came face to face with Harry Potter.
Potter smirked at me as he faked interest in the coloured eye contacts. “No mascara huh?” Blaise sniggered. “Think they do a good eye liner next door.” I want to punch him.
“What do you need golden boy?” He sighed.
“To talk to you.” Would never have guessed. My eyes narrowed.
“May I have the name of said topic?”
“Hermione.” I felt Cyrus and Blaise’s eyes boring into the back of my head, both making a point of dropping everything they were holding. Potter shifted slightly as they crossed their arms.
“Sure. Where do you recommend?” Not here by the look of his face. I followed his retreating form out into the street and into the three broomsticks. Seems serious though, what could I have done? He led me to a table covered with abandoned butter beers. I thought he made the trip out here just for me. I sat opposite him, watching over his shoulder until the on looking whisperers had gone back to their relative conversations. “So?” He sighed.
“What are your intentions Malfoy?” I tried to decipher his face.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.” I saw a flash of irritation in his expression before he smoothed it over.
“What do you intend? By befriending Hermione what do you expect to get from it?” I leaned back. Changed his opinion on me my arse.
“Want to know something Potter.” I hissed it at him. He looked a little taken aback but nodded all the same. “When you’re born pure blood. You don’t make any decisions. Pictures in your room, your school house. Who your friends and enemies are.” I glared at him, allowing my hatred of admitting all this to show. “I hated Crabbe and Goyle, I hated being a horrible self-fish git to you lot.” His eyes widened. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Slytherin and I am everything you need to be to be one. However I lived in fear for me and my mother and what Lucius would do if I missed an opportunity to make your lives misery. Crabbe and Goyle would both send letters to Lucius and I’d have to sleep in the basement and see my mum with a black eye for the whole holiday.” I glared at him. “Now we’re free of him and I’m just trying to live my life, maybe even make up for the stuff I did over the years.” I stood. “We done here?”
“Draco?” I turned, Hermione, Weaslette and Weasel were sitting next to us, the invisibility cloak in their laps.
Oh for cursing out loud! “Do you ever go anywhere without that thing Potter?” He blushed slightly.
“Is it true?” Weaslette was the one speaking, but I glanced at Hermione.
“Why would I lie?” That didn’t seem to be enough though.
Weasley spoke up, his eyes narrowed and a posture that screamed his dislike. “What makes you think that’d we’d forgive you?” I smirked.
“I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m looking for a stable life being who I want to be. Oh and a Halloween costume.” I saw Hermione’s mouth twitch. “So how many more times are you going to be spying on me with that thing?” I gestured to the cloak.
“Wait.” Hermione looked at Weasel and Potter. I couldn’t help but notice that Weaslette was sitting in between the couple. “How many times have you spied on him?” Weasel’s ears went red, Potter fiddled with his wand distractedly. “Well?” I smirked.
“Doesn’t matter Hermione, just annoying that there’s always the possibility someone’s following me.” She still didn’t look convinced. Weaslette was looking at me strangely. “Kind of a compliment actually. Just to let you know Weasel I don’t swing that way.” His ears looked like they were about to explode, his face twisted in pure hatred. Yay. “Now. Is there anything else?” Potter reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment. Frowning I opened it up. “This belongs to Arabella?” He nodded. “I said keep an eye on her not steal.” Seriously Potter?
“We didn’t steal. She gave it to us because we asked her how she was.” I opened it up.
I hope to have Draco standing by me soon. He is pure-blood, this rebellious phase will soon be over and he will be punished of course, he must be made an example of that that kind of behaviour will not be appreciated in my service, especially with his pure-blood status as weak as it is. I thought long and hard my dear, but you have been brought up in the hand of muggles and I am afraid to say that you are no longer considered pure. I know this is hard for you but you shall die soon so no need to fret. The traitors of his Great Lordship will soon be dead by the hands of me and my new son and then you can rest peaceful in your grave knowing that a man you once gave you the honour and greatness of being called daughter will put right the wrongs in the world.
Forever you’re purest.
“Well. He’s wrong about me I’ll give you that.”
“Is he at your mansion?” I shook my head.
“Remember there were no protective charms around the place. He just used my place to hold Mrs Granger because I knew my way around and she couldn’t get out the basement. You should know that at least.” His eyes hardened at the memory. “He’s staying somewhere else. Where? I don’t know.” I shook my head. “If I could talk to him again I would stand a chance of finding out.” Potter nodded. I hadn’t realised that Weaslette had gone to get Butter beers. She even had one for me. I thanked her and drank deeply. Where would he go? Wiping my mouth I studied the letter again. Sighing. Not really sure at what point I had sat down, two fingers pressed to my temple and supporting my chin, blocking out everyone except Potter.
“Draco.” I glanced at Hermione. “The fight between you and your father.” I braced. “Why didn’t you just run away?” I smirked. Tapping my nose with my finger.
“Think I’ve admitted enough today don’t you?” I finished the beer. “Cheers for this Potter. Do you mind still keeping an eye out?”
“Not at all.” I nodded.
“Cheers.” I turned to walk out. “Oh and, stop spying on me.” I turned back again.
Something cold and wet exploded over my head, I yelled turning to see a bloke at the bar putting his tankard back on the bar.
“Freaking Deatheater. Shouldn’t be here. Should be in Azkaban!” I heard a roar rise from the surrounding people. Move!
“Shouldn’t be alive! Better people lost their lives because of you!” Get out!
“Scum-bag!” I threw myself out the door, listening to glasses smashing into the wall that the mid-day drinkers had thrown at me. Brushing the glass off my back, I stood, stinking of beer and getting all sticky. I cursed under my breath. Walking to a nearby fountain and splashing water on my head to get rid of the sticky feel. I could hear a cheer rise inside the pub, proud of what they did.
“Draco are you all right?” Hermione had come outside. I nodded. A look of genuine concern on her face, making me want to cry even more.
“I’m fine. Go back inside.” I turned and walked off, wanting to find my real friends. I found them sitting outside the bakery. Please don’t notice.
“Yo D. We bought you some stuff to go with that cloak of yours.” Cyrus pushed a spiced roll over to me.
“Cheers.” I sat next to Cyrus. Keeping my eyes focused on the delicious looking roll, my stomach rumbled.
“Draco what happened?” Cho was looking at my hair which still had a bit of beer in it. Blaise was frowning, his arm around Cho’s waist. Dam.
“Local punters don’t like me it seems.” I stole a bit of Cyrus’s bun.
He shrugged, annoying me slightly that he hadn’t reacted. “So what did Golden boy want?” I shrugged.
“This, it’s from Rodolphus.” I handed the letter over to Cyrus, to Blaise’s annoyance. After a second he passed it to Blaise.
Cyrus looked pitifully at me. “Sounds like he really wants you.” I sighed, taking the letter back from Blaise.
“You know what. I’m off, I’ll see you at the castle.” I turned and walked, watching my feet. I felt crushed inside. I knew people would recognise me but to make such a public statement of dislike was surprising. I normally could ignore the hissing and glares around the castle. Wasn’t expecting it from mature adults though. I read through the letter again. There was me thinking I could put this behind me.
Seems people don’t want to forgive me.
Why should they? When even I don’t want to forgive me.
Well? Thoughts? There's a little lonely grey box there, it would love to hear your thoughts no matter how trivial :)
x Ravenpen x
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories