╭────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────╮
𝐎
September 13th, 1996
Dear Margot,
Harry and Ron are beginning to forget all about my summer absence and I am glad. Life hasn't exactly resumed but it's not static either. It's in the happy moments when it's apparent that things have changed. When Ron tells a joke I either feel obligated to laugh or feel guilty for finding it actually funny. I don't know what's worse; lying to their face or feeling the shame on my skin?
If I had missed anything here in Hogwarts, it was my spot in the Slytherin Common Room.
The Common Room can be very cold sometimes because it touches directly to the Black Lake, so most of the Slytherins prefer sitting at the posh, leather couches near the fireplaces or at least get a snack from the small Dining Room that is set here in the dungeons.
As for me, I like watching the waters dance as the last light of a tiring day dies out, curled up with a good cup of coffee and an interesting book. I don't mind bringing a second sweater or a blanket with me if it means spending some time alone in my forlorn nook, writing to you, Margot.
I miss you, Margot. You don't know how much...
The night must have fallen quickly while I was distracted writing. I was suddenly awakened from my daydreaming by the piercing cold that had managed to penetrate my clothes. As we were getting closer to midnight, my cosy corner became less so. Sometimes I forgot how quickly the autumns grew cold up here in Scotland.
Most of the Slytherins were tired after the first week of classes and had turned in early to make sure they would enjoy their walk at Hogsmeade first thing in the morning. I was always a night-owl and I think the third cup of coffee didn't help much, so I thought there was no harm in lousing around near the fire for another hour. I picked up my notebook and sat on the thick, green carpet, my back turned to the flames.
"Draco Malfoy, you swine! Don't you care about us in the slightest?" I heard Maya's whispered voice as she was walking down the staircase quickly.
"No, Maya Flint. Frankly, I do not give a damn about you two. I want to make use of my bedroom tonight because, oppositely to both of you," said Malfoy and showed Maya and Blaise Zabini, "I am a productive wizard that happens to have more urging matters to tend to than where I'm going to host my cosy 'slumber-party' by ruining my roommate's sleep!"
The three of them walked into the empty living room in hushed tones and were too caught up in their fighting to acknowledge my existence. Only Malfoy caught a very brief glimpse of me. He stood up straight, he ran his hand through his hair, he adjusted his rings on his fingers. I watched his behaviour change ever so slightly. Harsh though he would continue to be, he would try to force out any speck of coolness.
"Oh, come on, Draco! It's just one night!" said Blaise in a calm tone. It seemed that Blaise Zabini was always the most collected in any situation.
"Blaise this is not a negotiation. Go sleep in Maya's dorm!" said Draco.
"And where is my roommate going to sleep?" said Maya.
"Do I have some sort of label on my face that says I care?" said Malfoy and shrugged his shoulders.
He walked to the nearby table that always served hot tea for the Slytherin who needed it. As the couple kept fighting behind him, Malfoy pretended to fill up a cup with some tea but instead pulled out a flask and poured a honey-brown liquid in the porcelain. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Blaise and Maya were too busy discussing so that he could screw the lid back on the flask and hide it masterfully.
When his eyes met mine, he didn't seem to care at all. On the contrary, he continued in his cool and cold disposition. I watched some colour rise to his face as he took his first sips. I was beginning to worry about Malfoy's liver, for I was now sure that the bourbon I smelled in his breath whenever he exhaled the smoke out of his lungs was not a fragment of my imagination, but was instead present and thriving. No wonder why he was always talkative in our few encounters; they just happened to take place when he was tipsy – or was he always tipsy.
No. No, that couldn't be right. If that were true, he should be talkative with everyone else as well and Draco Malfoy was not his most outgoing self nowadays. He spent his days alone and without making a sound. When he should be making jokes during classes, he was lost in deep thoughts. When he should be bullying second-years, he was hidden somewhere, watching the rainfall. It made perfect sense to me. However much I despised him, I could only imagine what it would be like if Dad was in Azkaban. I would grow cold as well.
"Come on, Malfoy! Just this once!" said Maya in an unusually high-pitched voice.
"Forget it. Shoot your roommate out."
"We should at least ask her if she has a problem with it," Blaise turned to Maya.
"Forget it! Thanks to you and your impeccable urge to talk to me on our first night back, she is one of the only ones who knows something is going on between us. She could blow things up as it is. I don't want to owe her more favours," said Maya in a whisper. I wondered if they were actually dense enough to think their voices couldn't reach my ears. It wasn't in their nature to hide from anyone. Then again I might have been too nosy.
"Come on, she seems like a seriously okay person," suggested Blaise.
"I don't feel comfortable asking her that," said Maya.
Indeed, Maya was desperately trying to hide any trace of romance between her and Blaise since the founding of their official relationship after the Hufflepuff party. I had just returned from the Gryffindor Common Room, where I was attending our now traditional first-night game-night, when I almost walked in on Blaise and Maya in our dorm. I was discreet enough to wait outside and squeezed my eyes together in resentment until they finished their job. On the next morning, I caught her concealing her hickeys with a spell. At the moment, I had thought that they were being too obvious for a secret couple but I was soon corrected. Two weeks had gone by and Polyxeny was yet unaware of their relationship.
Watching all this felt like watching a dramatic film for teenagers and it offered a pleasant break from my very unromantic life.
"Is there a problem?" I finally said to the three of them with a long exhalation.
"Who the hell asked you to butt in, half-blood?" snapped Malfoy in his usual demeaning tone.
"Well, I wasn't going to intervene, but since you are so obviously referring to me, I think you are the rude ones here," I raised an eyebrow, cursing the moment I decided to waste my time to the oh-so-dramatic people fate had placed in my way.
"We never mentioned you, you lunatic!" bellowed Malfoy.
"She is my roommate, Malfoy!" said Maya raising a hand to stop him.
"She is your roommate?" said Malfoy and suddenly his eyes were stuck to mine, his face turning red by the second. Who knew what he might have been thinking?
"Okay, since we are being all so obvious... Ophelia," said Maya, "I know this is too much to ask but could you possibly sleep somewhere else tonight?" she said and held Blaise's hand tightly.
"You could even sleep on my bed if you want!" added Blaise quickly, desperate to find a solution.
"Hey, hey! I'm drawing a veto here! There is no way I'm sleeping in the same dorm as a half-blood muggle-lover," said Malfoy, throwing himself heavily on an armchair and slowly took a sip of his so-called tea.
"I am going to agree to that, actually. Bloodists creep me out... Yikes..." I said. When I threw a teasing look to Malfoy, he looked even more aggravated than before.
"Do you happen to have anywhere else to sleep?" Maya seemed tired of listening to our petty fight.
"I'm sorry, Maya. Can this wait till tomorrow? I can always sleep with my friends in Gryffindor-" (and at this point, Malfoy's eyes shot up to mine with something that, at the moment, I recognized as anger) "-but I'm kind of tired tonight. I'd rather stay put," I said.
The couple, although disappointed, quickly understood that they could not make any demands from a girl they didn't know well, or at least chose to never mingle with in school. It was easier to turn their attention to Malfoy once again, eyes begging.
"Forget it," he spat out.
"It's just a night. Tomorrow we will sleep at my dorm. Tonight Ophelia is tired. You're not going to throw a tired lady out of her bedroom, are you Malfoy?" said Maya with a sardonic smile.
"Oh, it's exactly what I'm going to do."
"How chivalrous," I muttered and returned to my book, struggling to no look at the angry Malfoy.
"If you want chivalry, you should go to your beloved Gryffindors. I'm sleeping in my bed as usual. I'm tired as well. Find some other place."
"Oh, come on, Draco..." said Maya, distracting him from his quarrel.
"I said forget it! I am not losing sleep because you two need a love nest and because the little snowflake doesn't want to part her teddy bear!"
"Hey, mister! I'm right here!" I said.
"Yeah, I know you are, Blackwood!" he muttered.
"For the last time," I said and drew a deep breath. "It's Blackthorn!" I screamed at him.
I locked my eye-contact to Malfoy's and for a moment I swear I could see him hiding a snigger. That arse was mistaking my name on purpose! That bloody puritist was making a hobby out of fighting with me!
The tension between us grew thicker with every stare and before soon we had entered into another who-is-going-to-look-angrier contest.
"Do you two know each other?" said Maya throwing a finger back and forth.
"-Us? No!"
"-No way!"
Malfoy looked up to the ceiling to avoid Blaise because his eyes were opening wider and wider and he was opening his mouth in an overall look of either naughtiness or realization.
"You son of a-" Blaise tried to exclaim.
"Shut up, Blaise!" he hissed with a high-pitched snap that could only mean embarrassment.
"Oh, for fuck sake! It's just one night!" said Maya with a face of complete exhaustion because both she and I couldn't have fewer clues about what was going on between the boys.
Malfoy threw his hands up, rolled his eyes with enervation and shot up at once. "Fine!" he yelled. He set his teacup aside on a nearby coffee table and made his way to the staircase that led to the dorms.
"Really?" said Blaise with a face of bliss and thankfulness as Malfoy walked past him crossly.
"You owe me big time!" His voice was quickly disappearing as he was running hurriedly to his dorm. "You better use a protection charm, Blaise, because, purebloods or not, idiots like you shouldn't even be allowed to procreate. Fucking-"
The smacking of a door interrupted his loud monologue.
"He'll get over it," Maya assured me unnecessarily.
"Deep down, he is a real sweetheart," said Blaise nodding.
Malfoy must have heard that little remark as he was returning to the living room, muttering curses and carrying a pillow, a blanket and a pack of cigarettes. He threw everything on the couch in front of me and then turned his attention to Blaise with a violent push.
"Sweetheart! SWEETHEART?" he yelled. "Say that again! I swear to Merlin-" Malfoy made aggressive steps and was either successfully intimidating or ready to throw some fists, when Maya stepped in between them.
"Alright, tough guy! Thank you for your services and we will see you tomorrow! Sleep tight! Sweet dreams!" she said and pushed Blaise up the stairs. When they were out of sight, we heard sniggering and laughing until the dorm door closed once and for all.
When they were gone, Malfoy's first action was to drink the whole remainder of his 'tea' to subdue his anger. Then he threw his pillow in the right position and took off his black blazer. He threw his shoes off and spread his legs on the sofa. When he angrily flicked the grey blanket to spread it evenly on top of him, it emitted his pungent smell of expensive perfume – the same smell that had drenched the first pages of the book I was holding.
"Weren't you tired?" he snapped.
"I am. It's a few more pages to the end of the chapter, though," I said, not raising my eyes to him.
I could have taken my book and finish the chapter in peace in the safety of the bed I had so stubbornly claimed. I told myself that I was way too comfortable to get up but deep inside I knew I just wanted to stay here, where Malfoy was present.
"I was kicked out of my bed because of you, princess! All because you were too tired but you are still up reading?" he said.
"I said I'm going in a second! And if you want someone to blame for today's sleeping arrangements, it's teenage hormones, not a stranger you once met at a museum. Don't put it out on me," I said.
Malfoy laid with his stomach facing the ceiling and tried to spread his legs but either the couch was too short or Malfoy was too tall for it. He pulled on the knot of his tie and made some way for a few buttons to become undone. Was it too hot in here or was I just sitting too close to the fire?
"I can't even get comfortable..." he said, tossed and turned, cussed and murmured curses.
"Oh, for fuck sake, be quiet! I'm trying to read!" I hissed at him.
"A half-blood muggle-lover that curses. Aren't you supposed to be this bundle of joy and hippie flowers?"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I am not."
Draco's stone-cold eyes wondered to the ceiling again and I could feel him slowly getting calmer. He would turn to watch me whenever I flipped to the next page. The most rational explanation for this would be that he couldn't wait for me to finish the chapter and be on my way. I idly wished and thought it was the entire opposite.
"Is it any good after all?" he said.
"The book you so shamelessly took without asking?"
"Yes," he simply said with no sight of shame. If there was anything worse than him returning my insults, it was ignoring them.
"If you're a sucker for philosophy, it is," I said.
"Weird. You're such a little snowflake; I thought you'd be the teenage romance novel kind of girl."
"Why would I read such a thing when I have Blaise and Maya producing fresh content right before my eyes every day?"
"I thought all girls liked those," said Malfoy.
"That's insanely objectifying. Everyone has their own taste. I just happen to like philosophy more than soaps."
In his aura, I could sense he wanted to say something more, maybe ask if he could borrow my book after I was done, but he never did.
He put an unlit cigarette between his lips, only for the sensation of it. He wanted to smoke but he knew it was impossible in here. He was getting uneasy.
"Do you?" I asked. "Like philosophy?" I added when faced with his confused look.
"No, not really," he answered. "But I guess this one seemed... cute," he said and showed the book in my hands.
"Cute?" I impersonated.
"Well yes. I can't take moral philosophy books very seriously. All this talk about morality and principles is very good until you actually are in a position to choose between something morally right or wrong. I'd like to see this Eudoxus Perrish choose something more than which writing hat is going to make him think harder."
You know Draco Malfoy is annoyed or on edge when he talks a lot. Of course, it depends on the people around him, but generally speaking, when he is annoyed, he gets talkative. With an unlit cigarette, with the urge to smoke, with the annoyance of not being able to do so, he started unexpectedly blabbing.
Yet, for the first time this night, his voice was calmer, softer. It was still colourless, make no mistake, but at least it wasn't as aggressive as before.
"You're not wrong at that," I admitted.
"I'd like to read a book on morals with someone with actual problems. Well, I know I won't because they don't exist. People with problems don't have time to write or even think about morals."
It was easy to assume Draco Malfoy didn't care about deeply torturing things such as morals or philosophy. Now, hearing him talk, I could sense he might have put more thought into it than any other wizard I knew.
"Well, then you should write a book on magical moral philosophy," I said bravely, knowing what kind of snowball effect would soon hit me.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco Malfoy sat up and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees antagonistically.
Under normal circumstances I would have leaned forward as well, to assert my dominance, but now, seeing him distressed, I hesitated.
"You said it yourself. A person with problems should give a fresh perspective on the practicalities of such matters," I argued but as he narrowed his eyes, I couldn't help but bite my lip, something that didn't escape Draco's notice. He focused on it for a shadow of a second, only to make me feel vulnerable, and then returned to his hostile gaze.
"What makes you think I have any problems?" he said, the corner of his nose turning upwards in disgust.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Intuition," I answered, tilting my head sideways. If I was weak, I wouldn't show it.
"You really shouldn't assume things about people you don't know," he said, sat back on the sofa and spread his arms on each of his sides arrogantly. "Why don't you go back to your safe little book? Maybe this profoundly bored writer will teach you some decency."
He crooked his brutal jawline and pursed his lips in irritation.
"Between the both of us, I am not the one who needs some decency lessons," I said.
Malfoy didn't speak after that, mostly because his irritation was getting out of hand. He passed his unlit cigarette from one hand to the other, breathing out heavily.
He decided to settle in and have a second try on sleeping but his eyes wouldn't stay closed for more than a few seconds.
"I can't sleep," he announced, sat up again and quickly tied his laces.
"Where are you going?" I said.
"I need to smoke. I'm going for a walk," he said and threw his blazer on. He looked just like every day, only now his hair was messed up from his fight with sleep, and I would be lying if I said this one curl that was dangling in front of his eyes wasn't charming.
"It's 1 o'clock. Filch will catch you," I informed and tried not to show much interest.
"I have my ways."
"Well, you're notorious for getting Slytherin in trouble. As a fellow Slytherin, I have the moral obligation to not let your smoking get in the way of Slytherin winning the House Cup for the fifth year in a row," I said.
"You are aware that everyone stops caring about the House Cup by third year, right?" said Malfoy and smoothly went up the stairs two steps at a time, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Well, I happen to care about the second-years' vulnerable, little souls."
Draco stopped in his tracks, as if he had reached a revelation. He turned around slowly and returned to my spot. He looked down at me with a smirk I had often seen him use on others, a smirk that had been recently replaced with a blunt expression. But now he looked like his old self. He leaned forward and brought his face near mine, as if he was about to spill out a huge secret – again, he was good with asserting his dominance.
"You want to come with me and it really shows," he said.
My heart skipped a beat.
"You're too afraid to ask me to go with you and that really shows."
I bet his skipped one too.
The smirk faded from Draco's face.
"Get the blanket," he ordered.
...Margot, I must be losing it! This is the same boy that punched Harry's face a few weeks earlier. What was I doing, taking a bloody walk with him in the middle of the night? How strange is it that as sneaked our way to the Black Lake, it felt so natural, so normal and ordinary?
See you soon,
Ophelia
╰────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────╯