BLOOD TRAITOR [HARRY POTTER - BOOK 1]

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter world, all rights go to J.K Rowling. I do however own my original character Nova Malfoy and her background. 

Dear Snuffles,

I am terrified and you are the only person that I can talk to yet, I fear that you might misunderstand.

Ever since I broke into his head, I have been reliving his memories over and over again. I feel like I am obsessed. I am trying not to say too much in writing as you have warned me about that before but I have been dreaming about moments in his life but that is not what scares me...

I am petrified because I like the power that it gives me. Is that wrong? It feels wrong.

I hope this finds you well.

- NM.

As Nova watched her owl fly across the snow-coated hills that cradled the castle, she took a deep breath and tried to rid herself of the dark clouds that seemed to herd around her, following her and threatening to ruin her day with another bout of turmoil. Pigwidgeon screeched for her attention as she stepped away from the window ledge, the tiny grey owl sticking out its leg and offering her a letter.

Nova,

Update as promised.

Dad is recovering and the doctors say that he will pull through however we might be in St. Mungo's for Christmas.

We hope this ratty little owl gets to you, it's as stupid as its owner.

- Fred and George.

Chuckling slightly, she watched Ron's owl fly away and stuffed the letter into her pocket. Smiling to herself, she descended down the steps of the owlry – careful not the slip on the thick ice that layered them. Her heart went out to the Weasleys after learning that their father had been attacked. It angered her to think of the good-natured and kind hearted family spending Christmas in St. Mungo's hospital due to the sheer audacity of one egotistical wizard. Nova would never understand the workings of Voldemort's mind and that was perhaps what drew her into his memories, kept her watching his life in the comfort of her own mind. However, her lack of understanding was also her problem, the simple thing that caused the gaping rift in her relationship with her mother and father. Faith is a powerful thing, the foundation of values and belief and the young witch had realised at a very tender age that hers could not be moulded by the hands of another, could not be wrought and altered. From a very tender age, Nova Malfoy realised that she had been born different and unfortunately for her, no amount of pureblood manipulation could change that.

As she entered the deserted common room, she absentmindedly picked at the burnt skin on the palm of her hand as she gazed out of the window into the fields of magical white. In the silence, she soon began the dangerous trek into the depths of her mind as it pulled at something she had heard Dumbledore mutter during their meeting the previous night: "Whilst the other is no stranger...the mind walker from dying a martyr...". The words themselves held little meaning to the girl but something within the depths of her conscious felt the need to remind her of them:

"Professor...the notebook in my dream," Nova began, choosing her words carefully and slowly. "I have seen it before. In my father's desk." Having piqued Dumbledore's attention, the young witch sighed and continued, "It was during the second year of my home-schooling, I had run out parchment and I found the empty book in his office...He was furious when he found out that I had taken it but his eyes...I have never seen such terror."