𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗘, 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗢 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗙𝗢𝗬
In which two star-crossed lovers
get their hearts dragged through
hell and back just to be together.
Olivia Mallard and Draco Malfoy.
they were made for destruction
and born to die.
...
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Walking down the corridor with her mother was quite odd for Olivia. There was nothing for them to speak of. Well, there was a lot for them to speak of, but nothing either wanted to. Then again, did they ever want to? And it didn't help that Olivia was purposely walking in front of the woman, not wanting to be in her presence longer than she had to be. Was she sure why her mother decided to walk her back to the common room? No, she wasn't.
Olivia had refused to stay in the hospital wing after her wounds and injuries were checked, but now she was slightly regretting that decision. She had been right—she did have a few cracked ribs. She also had scratches on her face and arms. Ones from being toppled over by the Whomping Willow and ones from being thrown down the rabbit hole by Granger. Plus, she was still feeling the weakening effects of the dementor sucking at her soul.
Potter had apparently nearly been kissed by a dementor as well. Him and Sirius. She only knew that because Snape left her and Clodagh to collect themselves with Granger and Weasley and piled down to where Potter had run off, and then they all found themselves in the hospital, getting checked up by Madam Pomfrey.
When Olivia reached the blank wall in the dungeons, not loud enough for her mother to hear, she whispered, "Draught of Death." It was a silly password, but Snape had needed to come up with something new for the new year, so they were stuck with that until the end of Olivia's fourth year because their passwords changed every other year. She was glad to be rid of "Pureblood," however.
Glancing back at her mother, she saw that she was still walking towards the door, taking her time, with a slight limp but still as stern and pristine as always. Her hair was in an intricate half-up, half-down style, with the half-up part being in a bunned braid, and she wore one of her long, slim-fitting dresses.
Rolling her eyes, Olivia focused on the appearing door, turned the handle, and pushed it open without waiting on her mother. If she hurried, she would have enough time to catch the door before it disappeared again. Olivia was glad to know that the woman never hurried.
