The Girl Who Lived ☆ D. MALFOY

Chapter 59

"Unless she knows Parsletongue," I say with a shrug. "She already is a snake in a bright pink cardigan."

Ron snorted before adding on, "Maybe she's found a way of opening it and now she's possessed."

"Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place," Harry said, shrugging. Ron laughed and I offered a dry chuckle, but Hermione was sitting beside me with her lip in between her teeth, deep in thought.

"We know everything important," said Harry, addressing Hermione who he knew was still apprehensive.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know... There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance..."

"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing," said Harry. "It's time to act."

"All right," Ron started slowly, "let's say we go for it tomorrow... I think it should just be me and Harry."

"Oh, don't start that again!" Hermione exclaimed with a sigh. I merely pursed my lips in annoyance. "I thought we'd settled this."

"It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different, Hermione," Ron said in response, jabbing a finger at the copy of the Daily Prophet dated ten days previously. "You're on the list of Muggle-borns who didn't submit themselves for questioning!"

"And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow!" she countered. "If anyone shouldn't go it would be Harry, he's got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head. It would be nearly as bad for Y/n—"

"Fine, I'll stay here," said Harry, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me know if you defeat Voldemort, won't you?"

As Ron, Hermione and I laughed, I saw Harry wince in pain with his hand jumping to his scar. I looked at him sadly, knowing it was bothering him and would likely be the cause of another vision that Hermione would not leave him alone about. Instead of questioning it when he darted toward the bathroom, I merely moved my bowl of soup to the side and laid my head on my arm. Ron looked at me worriedly.

"You alright, mate?" he asked with furrowed brows. I nodded and offered him a small smile which he returned and seemed satisfied with my answer. Hermione, however, was still looking at me with narrowed eyes.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Y/n?" she asked, already standing from her chair meaning that it wasn't really a question. I nodded.

"Fine, then," said Ron, "just leave me here, all by my lonesome."

"Are you alright?" I asked her once we were far enough away from the kitchen and down the hallway. She scoffed at me, taking me off guard.

"I could be asking you the same thing," she said. "You've been acting very weirdly."

"Are you accusing me of something?" I asked guardedly. She rolled her eyes, but it was halfhearted.

"No, of course not. I'm just wondering if you're alright! You've done nothing but sit in your corner reading, and you look like hell—"

"—Thank you so much—"

"—When was the last time you slept?" she asked. I winced in response to which she softened her gaze. "What is going on?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to explain. "I had... I had this dream... and it had me thinking. Well, it had me confused."

"Well, it's only a dream," she said encouragingly, but I shook my head.

"No, I- I feel like it was real," I said. "There were two, and in both of them Bellatrix Lestrange was talking- no, she was taunting me. She said 'She is for the Dark Lord' and now I can't- I can't get it out of my head! She also confronted me in the field behind the Burrow. She said something... something about how there's something different that I have and Harry doesn't. I used to think that she was talking about my abilities, but I don't think so. She said that I was more important than him. What could that mean?"

For the first time in a while, she seemed at a loss for words.

"Well, are you really going to trust Bellatrix Lestrange? She's a lunatic," says Hermione after a moment, but even she seems doubtful of her words.

"Maybe, but why?"

"She wants to mess with your head. You can't let it bother you, Y/n."

"It's not that easy, Hermione," I answer. "It makes sense. She would have killed me if she didn't genuinely think I'm important. Dumbledore- Dumbledore told us that Harry was the one with the connection to Voldemort and my abilities were just a piece of... debris I guess that I had received for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Harry is the one he wants to kill personally, I should be useless."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, looking away from me. "I don't know, Y/n, honestly."

"I'm afraid to sleep, 'Mione," I say clutching the roots of my hair in my fists, "because I don't want to see her again. But what if she's telling the truth and I have to see her again."

Hermione looked at me with concern and pity behind her eyes before looking back down.

"We'll figure it out, Y/n, we always do."

I gave a dry, humourless chuckle in response.

"And at what cost?"