PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

14

Since the attack, there are some things I've come to discover. The first is that no one seems to know it was me who was attacked. The first sets of students to arrive weren't familiar to me, nor I to them. Only Terry, the Weasleys, and Hermione know I was the one involved. I was healed rather quickly, and I was only kept for overnight observation. Thanks to Mandy, I explain my absence with the pretend illness of my mother. The rumour is that it was a girl named Patricia, who is still in the hospital wing. I know it's a coincidence. She's actually experiencing a really bad outbreak of pimples in some embarrassing areas. It's a curse she's got. I'm sure she's just as relieved as I am that nobody knows the reason for her visit here.

Second, there is not going to be an international magical incident. Apparently, the word he used means fraud in German. It's a common slur against muggle-borns there. While the Weasley boys are going to be in detention for their violent display, Karkaroff has not caused another riot. I think both he and Professor Dumbledore would rather keep the event quiet.

Finally, I have discovered that very few people will come for me if I need help. Most are fine watching. A few days go by, and aside from some concerned glances, Terry hasn't brought up what happened. I've been clever to avoid being alone with him. It's hard to be angry. He did what I asked of him. If he had stayed, I'd be mad too.

At least if he had stayed, there might be something to that passion. Now, I feel barely anything toward him. Really, I don't feel much anger at all.

The situation is even further complicated when one of the ministry wizards who is helping run the Triwizard Tournament, goes missing. He was known for his very strong beliefs against pureblood supremacy and Death Eater activity. More rumours begin to spiral about the ways and beliefs of the students of Durmstrangs. At least those rumours don't circle back to me.

Still, the castle is growing to be too intense for my liking.

One day, when it is particularly soggy and dreary, I go outside. I cast a water-repelling charm above me to act as an umbrella. With me, I carry an art easel and a chair. Once I'm down by the lake, I set myself up. Though I'm dry, the ground isn't; the chair squishes into the mud and as such, it's hard to balance on it. Still, I try my best to draw.

On days like these, I tend to go into the shed where all the boats are kept. It looks out onto the water all the same, but I want to breathe in the fresh air. Besides, if anyone was outside when the rain started, they might have taken shelter there. People do wander in from time to time. At least here, I will have some peace.

"You have rotten manners."

I leap up to cover the canvas. My head spins. Malfoy, just as dry as I am, has entered my charmed space.

"I have rotten manners?" I ask. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

"What are you doing?" he reaches toward the easel.

Even though I doubt he'd get close enough to grab it, I don't want to risk it. I take the paper and throw it out into the rain. The colours bleed on the ground, and the mud is already soaking into it.

"You're like a petulant child," he notes.

"Well, children are usually still learning manners, so I suppose you're accurate," I turn back to him. Then, I cross my arms over my chest. "Are you done?"

"You still haven't thanked me," he offers.

I try my hardest not to laugh, "thanked you?"

"Pansy has stopped calling you Time-Turning Turner, hasn't she?"

I find my hand moving to grip the easel's edge. Yes, I suppose she has. It's been a difficult thing to notice with everything else going around. I've been so relieved that no one has been talking about the attack, that I hadn't realised no one has been talking about me at all. Pansy has been in my classes, she's been all over Malfoy outside the Great Hall, and she's even made eye contact with me. Yet, no names have left her mouth.