NATALIA [Draco Malfoy Fanfiction]

Twenty-One | Manor of Memories

I was paralyzed from the waist down when I regained consciousness. I could hear the chaos erupting around me, even from the room of requirement, and as I tried to figure out what's going on in my disoriented state, I begin to remember the events leading up to this moment.

"I've been trying to listen in," Sirius told me, "all I know is that something has happened."

"Thanks, Sherlock."

"It's Sirius; actually. Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, gritting my teeth as I shifted to a more upright position and watched my legs as they sat attached to my body like dead weight. "C'mon," I muttered under my breath, willing my left foot to start moving. "C'mon you fuckin thing."

"I think that cabinet brought people into Hogwarts," Sirius explained as I stared intensely at my foot, "like... death eaters."

I sighed; "Malfoy's doing, I'm sure. How lovely—he's a real gem, isn't he?"

"Hey, you're the one, like, in love with him," Sirius pointed out.

I stopped what I was doing to shoot him a glare, before silently resuming my rather helpless attempt at getting myself to move. Fuck, what did he do? Where were the others?

Did he take the potion?

I already knew the answer to my last question, but in that moment, acceptance felt like defeat. So I refused to answer my own question.

I could feel my body strain as it tried to move, I could feel every nerve as it slowly started to spark back to life, and finally, I'm able to wiggle my toes. Success urges me on until I'm able to stand, only pausing when I stumble to the door and Sirius points out: "are we sure we want to go out of the safe space that Malfoy provided?"

I nearly fall flat on my face as I come up with a response. "What do you mean?"

Sirius pauses so I could hear the chaos on the other side of the wall, "you can barely walk, Nat," he pointed out, "are we sure it's a good idea to walk into the fire?"

"I... I need to know he's okay."

The statement hurt, but not as much as the thought that something horrible had happened, and so I charged through the doors and come face to face with what Draco had done.

Almost instantly, I'm met with a mass of students trying to get back to their common rooms. I try not to get dragged into the flow of traffic, and force myself through to the great hall—the opposite direction that they were all going in. It was a bad idea—I knew it. But, I couldn't sit with the fact that I didn't know what happened to him, if he was okay, if he... if he succeeded in his task.

I could pick up on the odd conversation as people tried to figure out what was going on, I could hear them murmuring about what happened—and what he did. From those pieces alone, I could already make a few assumptions, assumptions that made me feel sick and want to turn around. 

But, just when I consider turning back, I spot a familiar blonde. "Gemma!"

"Fuck! What are you... Nat! We have to get out of here!"

"What's going on," I rushed out, ignoring the fact that I was still in my pyjamas.

"He's... Nat..."

"Gemma," I intervened, "please, just tell me."

"Draco killed Dumbledore. He's dead."

I almost breathed out a sigh of relief—but caught myself, and remembered the potion. "He killed Dumbledore," I repeated instead. "He carried out what he was tasked to do..." but I knew I was still missing something; "what else was he tasked to do, Gemma?"