Malfoy's Request

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Maria’s Easter holidays weren’t as fun as she thought they would be. She was staying at her brother’s apartment; however, he, attending university, did not have Easter holidays. Because these were ‘dark and dangerous times’, as he always reminded her, Maria wasn’t allowed going out alone. She consequently found herself stuck in her brother’s empty apartment for one long week. Sure, at first it was fun; putting on the radio full-blast, watching movies all day long, singing and dancing in the kitchen, etc. But soon, boredom – perhaps one of the worst diseases ever – inevitably came upon her. So, whenever she had nothing to do to occupy her mind or hands, she started studying, determined to make the best use of her time – but mostly, determined to not do nothing. However, after a day or so, she realized that she was, indeed, always studying. And it wasn’t like she needed it; she was well ahead of the school’s schedule.

Maria soon found out that boredom wasn’t the only source of her need to keep herself occupied at all times. There was a reason why she desperatly wanted to keep busy that she couldn’t escape come bedtime; she couldn’t bear thinking about Malfoy... but she also couldn’t help it. As the days passed by, she started questioning more and more whether she should, after all, finish what she had started. It was very unlike her to abandon something half accomplished, although she knew her repentance had nothing to do with the ‘plan’.

Her brother’s apartement became a cell, and not only because she wasn’t allowed out. Whenever she watched a movie, the inevitable romantic plot annoyed her. Whenever she picked up a book, she was reminded of school. She couldn’t even turn on the radio, because the never-ending love songs brought his face to mind. She was trapped, with nothing to do but think... and feel. Now that she couldn’t be distracted, emotions she had never experienced before started surfacing, and truthfully, scared her. These were powerful, deep and reckless. She had never imagined someone could feel this way... ‘This is all wrong!’ she thought angrily. ‘I want to forget him! I have to.’ But whatever she told herself, the emotion never dithered. She hated it, because even though he was a prat – ‘Yes’, irresponsible – ‘You bet’, arrogant – ‘As always’ and depressing – ‘...’, when he wanted, he could also be amazing. Being close to him, physically, really, hauntingly close to him was enough to set her senses – and nerves – on fire. She missed him, she wanted him. It was so simple, yet incredibly complex. She tried convincing herself, over and over, that it would – it could never work between them, that it was dangerous, foolish, plain stupid. She knew she had done the right thing; it was a fact. But a part of her, a part hidden deep insde of her that would never be silenced, refused to listen. Once all this was over, would he still be a jerk, or would he grow up and be how he sometimes ‘used to be’ with her? She didn’t want to take a second guess. She didn’t want her wounds to be beyond repair, and they were already excrutiatingly close to that limit. At the very least, she could wait for everything to end. After all, time heals almost everything.

***

For the first few days, Malfoy was furious. ‘Good riddance,’ he thought harshly. However, as time went by and as his mind settled, he started seeing the situation for what it really had been. He had been selfish, just waiting there for her and taking all her work for granted, too pissed off at the world to see further than the tip of his nose. For probably the first time in his life, he admitted he had been wrong. This frustrated him even more. How could he be so thick? He slammed his foot into the side of his bed, causing one of the four posts to break and fall. He grasped his wand and muttered ‘Reparo’ no less angrily before falling onto his bed; he felt terrible. It was as if his insides were all misplaced and tangled, bruised. His head throbbed and he once more ignored the sharp pain rising in his foot. His limbs were numb, and his heart… he had no heart. At least that’s how he felt. It had left when she did. Every time he wanted to make things right, to act on his own accord, he ended up messing up. ‘I can’t afford to screw up,’ he thought before getting up, grabbing his cloak and walking out of the room.

He snuck out of the castle by one of the many secret passage ways and walked all the way to Hogsmeade in a hurry. Once he reached the Shrieking Shack, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. He continued, opened the ancient door and climbed the crooked stairs two by two. Strange noises echoed faintly, interrupting the bone shrilling silence. But Malfoy didn’t have time to worry about that. He entered the only room, shutting the door behind him. He then very carefully rolled up his left sleeve and untied, his heart beat accelerating, the black bandana he kept around his forearm at all times with slightly trembling fingers. He let it fall on the dusty floor and he closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself and carefully keeping his breath steady. He slowly pressed his Dark Mark with his index finger, feeling the little air he had forced into his lungs exit as intense pain shot through his arm and spread like scorching fire through his body. A loud crack echoed on the mouldy walls, but Draco only barely heard it, pain being all he could think of. He forced his eyes to open, putting on a tough face and blocking his mind off, as Occlumency had taught him. As he had suspected, Voldemort hadn’t showed up in person; Malfoy wasn’t important enough for that honour. Instead, he would send another fellow Death Eater. This time; Malfoy smirked, he had sent Wormtail. This would be easy.

"I have a request," Malfoy said gravely, his voice suddenly lowering dramatically.

"What is it, sir?" Wormtail squeaked.

Malfoy smirked. He had called him sir.

"I need you to place something inside the Hog’s Head."

He explained to Wormtail that he wanted the second Vanishing cabinet carefully taken to the Hog’s Head. He said he would come back on Saturday in two weeks and leave the cabinet here for him, and only him, to take to the tavern. He suggested Wormtail confund the owner into thinking he had actually bought it. He insisted on the fact that he should be discrete and unseen. Wormtail, who had been fidgeting all along, biting his yellowed nails, listened intently. Malfoy finished by saying he didn’t know yet when the other cabinet would be ready. Wormtail seemed nonetheless delighted, his small beady eyes almost ecstatic. He disapparated and Malfoy waited a few seconds before dashing back out of the Shack. His heart was pumping madly, his hands were shaking uncontrollably, sweat was pouring from his forehead and, like every time he met a Death Eater, he felt like he was about to throw up. He hated them, damned traumatizing experiences. He then staggered all the way back to the castle, his head dizzy, his limbs numb. He did, however, manage to think about one thing, and that was whether or not Maria would have been proud of him for finally doing something.

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