Shadow of the Heir

The Night Is Cold

If there was anything Eleanore Malfoy hated it was the cold. Maybe it reminded her too much of the frigid marble of Malfoy manor. Maybe it was too reminiscent of the Undercroft. It didn't matter where the hate originated, just that it had grown its tendrils in her and held on tight. Now, the blonde witch who'd at one time danced under the winter night's starlight now stayed wrapped up in her robes in the spring's rain.

Raindrops slithered down the umbrella over her head loudly as the white-blonde woman peered through the heads of students in front of her. She pulled her robes closer to her body. A game of quidditch roared in the center of the arena. Slytherin was winning, as usual. 

It was the last night of their short break from classes. The last night of metaphorical freedom before she'd be knee-deep in her studies once more.

To her right, a brunette bumped against her shoulder roughly. "Rhine Leveret almost took a bludger to the face!"

A moment of uninterested silence passed before the brunette smacked her shoulder again. "Are you watching?"

"No, I don't care about fools bumping brooms." The blonde muttered incredulously. "Are you ready to leave yet?"

The other woman laughed. "Absolutely not."

"Poppy," Eleanore groaned in annoyance.

"Get out of your head, Ella. Have some fun!" Poppy spun in a haphazard circle as she spoke. Raindrops scattered off her umbrella and attracted the unwanted attention of surrounding classmates.

Eleanore felt a gaze burn into the back of her neck, but she didn't dare turn to look. She drug her eyes back to the center of the pitch, just in time to catch of flash of red. Garreth. She looked back to her feet.

She had been far less than fun in the years after the near extinction of Hogwarts - a near disaster most of her classmates remained unaware of. There had been too many funerals. Of friends, teachers, elders... enemies... Ella could scarcely remember who she had been in the years leading up to her impromptu arrival as a fifth year. She could, however, remember the disappointment of her father that she'd decided she wanted to attend Hogwarts and not the fad pureblood-only education they'd chosen for her and her brother. Still, friendships had burnt out and fallen away. Poppy Sweeting was nearly the last one to remain.

A voice caught Ella's attention as she turned to look at her friend. The feeling of eyes burning into the back of her head dissipated.

"She's been missing since Friday and you're not worried?"

Ella knew that voice.

Her eyes darted sideways. Ominis?

She hated to hope. Hated how often she'd imagined she'd bump into her old friend again and have a scrambling, awkward small talk once more. She missed Ominis Gaunt in the same way she'd miss the corner that jutted out from her bed frame—something that had annoyed her to the ends of the Earth but was an absolute necessity. A hand on her forearm steadied her as Poppy's concerned gaze fell over her pointed features.

It had been two years since the battle underneath Hogwarts. It had been over two years since Anne buried her and Sebastian's uncle, alone.

It had been two years since Ominis asked Ella not to speak to Sebastian again.

"Someone once told me that you can bring a person back to life just by remembering them. Anne doesn't need any more bumps in the road, Ella. Let her remember Sebastian as he was." His words still echoed in her ears. They still made her stomach churn the same way as when they first fell on her ears. "Go on, live your life like you never met him."