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CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

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. . .


DRACO ISN'T IN ALCHEMY. Nor is he in Potions, which the brunet had discovered they shared quite early into the term, as the Slytherin enjoyed poking fun at Harry Potter and his friends whenever he got the chance. He wasn't in Transfiguration either. In fact, wherever Enoch looks, Draco isn't there. It's like he disappeared.

He isn't in any classes the following day either. Enoch can't spot him at the dining hall and, during dinner, Philip reports that even the other Slytherins and the closest Draco has to friends don't know where he is. Amongst the student body, those that care enough to notice at least, he's reported missing—though this doesn't seem to cause much worry. No one seems to care. Except Enoch, Pansy Parkinson, and the blond's cronies; Enoch doesn't know how he feels about being put in the same group as them.





. . .




It's at breakfast, half way through the week, when Enoch gets an update. He's spent half a week worrying, wondering—mind going wild—and struggling with his Alchemy practicals. He's heard absolutely nothing, until now... hopefully.

"I still haven't heard about where Malfoy is, but I did hear somethin'," Philip says as he pauses to drink some water, taking large gulps that are audible from the other side of the table. His thirst is understandable after eating three pieces of barely buttered toast. They looked dry, so they presumably made his mouth dry too.

At the mention of Malfoy, Enoch can't help but perk up. He tries not to seem too interested, not wanting to give off the wrong impression, but he starts paying more attention to the boy than his breakfast all the same. Even Elijah's attention is caught, his spoonful of porridge left hanging dangerously in the air. Their reasons for interest might be different, but they're both fixated on their information source, waiting in suspense.

Once he's finished his drink, the Gryffindor leans across the table conspiratorially, announcing lowly, "They're sayin' he's a Death Eater now. That's what's been spread around Gryffindor."

"No way!" Gee exclaims, leaning closer to the table to listen to Philip better. "You're joking, right?"

"Nah, heard it from Potter himself." The Gryffindor grins rather proudly. "Well, I didn't, but the girl who told me—she did."

"I don't believe it." Elijah mutters. Some porridge slides off his spoon.

"It's not that hard to believe, is it? It is Draco Malfoy, and his father was caught last year." Enoch's gaze travels between the trio as they discuss this recent gossip. The brunet feels lost and very confused—all he knows is that a Death Eater isn't a good thing. He wants to ask what they are exactly but if he does, they'll probably judge him—might think he's an idiot. This seems to be some sort of common knowledge he's missing.

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