"Three knocks means it's me and four knocks means it's your father. We've gone over this plenty of times already, Cora. Do you have it memorized?" Cora's mother, Kate, asked as she bent down to be at her five year old's level.
"Three knocks means it's you and four knocks means it's dad." A younger Cora repeated, making her mother smile as she placed strands of her daughter's hair behind her ear. "How many knocks do I get?"
"Two knocks." Sam, her father, said as he leaned on the wall.
Cora nod her head before walking over to the door and knocking. Two times.
"What if somebody knocks the same amount as one of you do? How will I know it's either of you?"
Kate arched her brows, Cora's question had never crossed her mind, "Well, we'll pause in between every two knocks. Does that sound good?"
"It sounds good." The small brunette smiled before walking over with her father to the leather sofa and sitting down beside him, resting her head on his chest before shutting her eyes and dozing off, feeling safe in his arms.
Cora sighed shortly before knocking firmly, two times. Anxiously waiting for her mother to open the door, she knocked two times again.
This time, the door swings open, revealing a wide eyed, nicely dressed woman opening the door — her eyes slowly narrow back to normal at the sight of her daughter, expecting for it to be someone else.
"You knocked four times, Cora. You're only supposed to knock twice." She took a step back before turning, leaving the door open as she walks back to her room.
Cora silently cursed at herself for making it seem as if it were her father knocking. She was so overwhelmed of anxiousness that she had forgotten about the knocks — and also that Finn was right behind her.
"Go ahead." Cora offered Finn to go first to which he politely declined, making her sigh. "Stop acting like a gentleman and just step inside, Finn." She chuckled, pulling his arm and pushing him inside the house.
Once she stepped inside, the door behind her closed with a small push and her eyes wandered throughout the house — everything was squeaky clean.
It made her face drop at the meaning behind it.
Her mother grew into a bad habit of cleaning until her body couldn't function, physically not allowing herself to continue.
She would over work herself and Cora at times just in case someday her husband ever came back from that long trip he took and would find everything organized and clean.
It was difficult growing with her mother after her father left. She used to be caring and gentle with her, but she turned into a different person once she refused to accept her husband wasn't coming back.
At first, they thought he was dead. Sam Boswell wasn't the type of guy who left with the intention to never come back.
He always came back.
Until that day.
"I'm going to check on my mother. I'll be right back." She leaves her coat hanging on the seat and walked through the hall, reaching the end of it. Tilting her body, she knocked softly before seconds later opening the door at the lack of words from her mother. "May I come in?"
Kate turned to look at her daughter, whom she had not seen in months, and nod her head — giving her permission to step inside, which Cora does.
"How have you been?" Cora asked softly, her voice wavering in slight fright as she took small steps forward.
"Great. You would know if you visited me more often, but you have better things to do." Kate's fingers wrapped around a glass of wine and took a sip, looking directly at her daughter.
Cora pressed her lips together and slowly exhaled through her nose before sitting on the bed, making herself comfortable,
"There's been something I've been meaning to tell you for a few months now. I could've sent it through an owl, but it's better if I tell you in person."
"So you didn't come visit because you wanted to know how your mother has been? You came to simply tell me something and leave right after you've gotten it off your chest, correct?"
Her eyes drop to the white bed comforter and she nods her head — an action she forgot her mother hated when being spoken to.
"I've gone over this with you before. Answer with your words and not your head." Kate snarled as she shook her head in disapproval.
Cora lifted her head and answered her question with words this time, "Yes, mother."
Kate took another sip, "So what have you been meaning to tell me for months?"
The brunette grew nervous and began to fidget with her fingers, "Have you seen dad after —"
Kate dropped the glass hard against the table and interrupts, "Don't go there, Cora."
"We have to go there — like it or not. Have you seen him?"
"Get out of the room." She uttered, her tone dryer than the usual.
"Just answer the fucking question! Have you seen him?"
Her mother shifted from the bed and towered over her child. "No, Cora! I haven't seen your father since he left me!"
Cora's body jerked back at the sudden movement and swallows, being careful how she words the following.
"I've seen him. Many times now, mother. He's not dead. He's alive."
Kate stayed silent. She was left speechless.
Her husband was alive — and he hadn't visited her. Hadn't given her a reason for leaving her behind with their child.
"He's alive, but he's a different person. And not in a good way." Cora continued. "Are you sure he hasn't been here? He hasn't payed you a visit?"
"Where is he?"
"Answer my question. Has he hurt you? Has he done anything to you?"
"Where's your father?"
Cora sighed, irritated that her mother wasn't listening to her, "I don't know. Please answer my question. Has he been here?"
Kate couldn't hear Cora. As soon as she mentioned her father being near — she blocked every living and non-living thing around her.
Her husband was close.
He'd almost make it home.
He'd finally be home with her.
"Help me clean, Cora. Get your friend to help as well. The house is filthy dirty — it needs to be clean."
The brunette's brows furrowed as her lips frowned, trying to refrain from crying.
Why couldn't her mother make things easier and listen to her for the first time in a decade? How hard could it be to place her attention on her daughter instead of her long gone husband who didn't care about them?
"I'm not going to help. Neither is Finn. He's not coming home, mom. It's time for you to accept it."
In the blink of an eye, Kate lifted her from the bed by grasping onto Cora's shoulder. "Tell your friend to help us clean, Cora. Listen to your mother's orders."
For a second, Cora almost listened. Almost. But instead, Cora bursted into a tearful laughter as she jerked her shoulder away from her mother's grip,
"Now you want to play the role of a mother — my mother? Please save yourself time. You're not my mother, Kate. When I was 7, you stopped being my mother. I took care of you when you were supposed to be the one taking care of me."
Kate reached for Cora's wrist, but Cora swinged her arm away. "You're ungrateful. I was going through a hard time, so cut me some slack. You had everything you wanted because of my money. You never lacked anything."
Those simple, yet harmful words were Cora's breaking point. She couldn't take more of it. She was tired— exhausted, really. Exhausted of feeling like she'd done everything wrong. As if her feelings were wrong to feel.
"You were going through a hard time? We were going through a hard time. I lost my father. I lost my childhood. I lost friendships. I lost my happiness. I lost the feeling of feeling complete. And that wouldn't have mattered as much to me if you were there beside me — holding my hand. But you weren't. You isolated yourself from everyone, including your seven year old child. I was seven—"
Kate looked away and took a step forward in an attempt to walk past her daughter. "That's enough, Cora. I see your point."
Cora was quicker and blocked her from leaving. "I've been bottling this inside me for so long, so you're not leaving this room until I'm done."
Her mother sucked in a sharp breath before sitting back down, her eyes holding no interest in what her daughter had to say.
Cora continued from where she left off. "I was seven. I was barely grasping onto things. And things were fine until he left. You stopped talking to me. You stopped looking at me. Stopped taking care of me. I thought, and to this day still do, you hated me. And dad left, so I thought he hated me as well. At seven years old, I wondered how everyone's life would be if I weren't around. A seven year old girl should think about getting a new toy, not on how things would be if they ended their life. Then, Hogwarts came and that's when I felt loved again. Lena taught me how to comb my hair into a nice ponytail because some classmates of mine would laugh at the way my hair would look. I had nobody to teach me how to style my hair, so Lena helped me stop being a walking joke."
After everything she'd said, her mother still looked unbothered — uninterested in what her daughter had gone through.
The girl began to feel invisible again. She always felt invisible in that house, which is why she never made an effort to visit.
Her absence and presence didn't matter.
"Lena made me feel loved in a day. You never made me feel loved in a decade. So no, I never needed anything — anything but your love and attention, which is all I've ever wanted."
Kate didn't move for a moment, taking in everything that had been said to her, and then exhales. "I need to get a few things before we begin cleaning the house."
The woman rose from the bed and Cora scoffed, offended. "Did you not hear a thing I just said? Do you not care about how I feel? What I've been through because of you?"
"People can't always get what they want, Cora. Now, I'm going to get some detergents from a local store and when I'm back, tell your friend to help."
Kate walked past Cora and left the door open as she walked out the room. Shortly after, the sound of the main door shutting echoed throughout the house.
The brunette looked out the window and observed as her mother walked. She seemed happy for the first time in a decade and it wasn't because she had made her happy. It was because of the man who had been making her life and her mother's life a living hell. It made her chest hurt.
"Are you okay, Cora?" Finn whispered, inches behind her as he gently rubbed his hand against her shoulder.
The girl gave a brief nod. The mixed emotions she felt made it difficult for her to speak.
"You don't look it. Look at me." The boy took a step back, giving her space to comfortably turn.
But she didn't listen. She didn't want him to see the stinging tears in her eyes.
Finn sighed softly and instead of waiting for her to turn, he stepped in front of her. Instantly, the brunette looked down.
"Don't do that, Cora. Don't try to hide yourself from me. Show me. Show me your tears. Share your tears — your vulnerability with me. I won't turn my back on you."
Cora's heart warmed at his words and her eyes hesitantly worked their way up to his. "Why do the people I love most hurt me the most?"
Finn's face softened at the sound of her voice — shaky, unsteady, "I won't hurt you. I'll try my best not to."
Finn observed as her parted lips shut and fresh tears ran down her face. He wiped them away and for some reason, he leaned in as he did so. Cora noticed and didn't back away. She stayed still as he kept leaning towards her.
The girl he had wanted for years was there, in front of him. And she wasn't pulling away from him.
His eyes drop to her plump lips. Cora's heart began to beat faster.
The boy's lips meet with hers, unable to resist the urge to kiss her. She was too stunned to react and once he noticed she didn't kiss back, he pulled away.
"I'm sorry. I — I didn't mean to. I don't know what took over me. I'll head to the living room now."
Before Finn could turn away, Cora stopped him by grasping onto his hand.
"Did you really not mean to kiss me?" She asked, genuinely curious.
He sucked in a breath as if he were going to say something, but he didn't. He was silent. The silence answered her question.
Once again, he attempted to turn around. And once again, she stopped him but with a kiss this time.
A rough, desperate kiss.
The brunette placed her exploring hand on Finn's hair and she tugged on it as they moved over to the window, her back harshly colliding with it.
"Say it again." She whispered against his lips, drawing him closer by pulling onto his shirt.
"I won't hurt you."
Cora let out a soft gasp at his words and pressed their lips harder against each other's. His hand traveled to the buttons of her shirt, rapidly unbuttoning them.
"Don't stop. Continue saying it." She whispered breathlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him closer.
"I won't hurt you."
She grasps onto his shirt and makes a fist. His bottom lip is then placed between her teeth and she bites down on it, earning a pleasured whimper from the boy.
"Fuck. I won't hurt you again."
She hadn't realized that in her mind, his voice was different. It sounded like someone else's voice.
More Mature. Husky. Arousing.
Her lips dropped to his neck and nibbled on his skin, making dark red marks. His hand had made it to her inner thigh and he didn't dare move it. It didn't take long for Cora to notice the lack of movement occurring with his hand.
"Don't be afraid to touch me. I want you to."
Her hand overlaps his and she moves his hand further up, until he does it himself. As his hand moves further into her inner thighs, he could feel the heat of her body increasing.
Before his hand could reach her underwear, a loud crashing sound coming from inches beside them makes the pair push away from each other.
Cora's eyes shot open and her head turned towards where the sound came from. Her eyes land on the floor, where a large rock sits. Instantly, she looked out the window and when she didn't see anybody around, her brows furrow in confusion. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Finn head toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Fear is in her voice, slowly creeping inside her body.
"I'll be back in a blink of an eye. I'm going to see what's going on outside."
And with that, he left behind a fidgeting girl who alarmingly looks out the window.
My father isn't back. My father isn't back.
Cora repeated and repeated until she could believe it. The repetition of words never stopped.
A few seconds had turned into minutes. The girl's face paled of the thought of Finn being in pain, so before she gave herself time to throughly think out a plan, her body was is inches away from the main door — a thick jacket keeping her body warm.
The second her fingertips make contact with the knob, the door shuts as fast as it had swung open. The boy standing before her wasn't brunette.
His hair was platinum blonde. It was Draco.
What was he doing in her house? Had he followed them? How long had he been wandering around the outside of the house? That's when realization hits her. Had he seen Finn and her kiss and decided to throw a rock to prevent from it developing into something more?
"Did you break my fucking window with a rock? You could've hit—"
Before she could go on any further, Draco's palm covered her mouth, instantly shutting the brunette up.
Cora searched his face for answers and his wide eyes hinted her to not say anything. To remain silent.
She'd never seen him in this state. He seemed jumpy, scared?
Once he was sure the girl who owned those dark chocolate eyes he'd dreamt of this week understood to not utter a word, his hand slowly falls to cup her cheek —his other hand rising to lift her other cheek.
"In a few minutes, I'm going to lead you outside. On the count of three, I want you to run, Cora. As fast as you possibly can."
She stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. "What are you doing here? Why are you telling me to leave my house and run? What's happening? Where's Finn?"
There's a change in Draco's demeanor at the mention of Finn. "Don't worry about Finn, Boswell. Worry about yourself. Do as I say."
Her lips parted and she breathed out in disbelief. "Who are you to step inside my house and order me around? I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on and where in the fuck is Finn? I'm not leaving without Finn. I came with him, so I plan on leaving with him."
The boy ran his hand through his hair and nod his head, eagerly. "Your father's on his way. You're better off alone. Taking him with you will increase the chances of him not only hurting you, but hurting him as well. I told him to leave already, and he should be at Hogwarts once you get there. He'll be waiting for you."
It bothered him to know that she'd be running alone, but it was better this way. Better for her, not just him. If Sam were to catch up to her, he'd hurt Finn to keep Cora there. Draco was well aware that Sam would hurt Finn to keep the girl from leaving. And if she were alone, she'd protect herself. Not anyone else. She'd be safer running alone.
Cora stayed silent, her eyes dropping to the floor as she tried to register what left the boy's mouth. Her father was coming. He was on his way to her mother's house. But what she couldn't quite comprehend was how Draco knew.
"How do you know he plans on being here?"
He didn't say anything or did anything, not even breathe. Pure silence filled the house. And she never hated silence until that moment. Cora's breathing accelerated as her heart fell to her stomach, her knees nearly gave out.
Shocked— an easy way to put it. She felt shocked over what had been discovered. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. She swore she could feel her throat closing. Her body collided with the wall behind her, eyes never lifting from the floor.
He rushed to her, and helped her stay on her feet, his hand holding onto her arms. "Baby, I want to help now. Let me help—"
His touch snapped her back to reality and her hands pushed against his chest, tears stung her eyes. "Don't fucking touch me! Why— Why are you doing this to me? I suspected my father had someone spying on me inside the school, but it never could've occurred to me that it'd be you. I trusted you. And you fucking betrayed me!"
His head drops. The moment he was dreading was happening. Too fast, too soon. His head slowly rises, instantly taking in the pain he'd inflicted by looking at the brunette's eyes.
The sudden need to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness takes over his body. And he nearly does, but he listens to his brain. This isn't the time to do such thing.
She needed to leave and return to Hogwarts, alive and untouched. It didn't matter if she'd hate him from then on. At least she'd be warm, not cold.
At least she'd be alive.
"I'll explain everything to you when we're both at Hogwarts, safe from your father. Right now, I need you to follow me outside and listen to my instructions."
She shook her head, pushing her back from the wall and rushed to her room. Before she could shut her door, Draco put his weight against the door. "Leave me alone, Malfoy! I'm not leaving this house! I don't trust you."
I don't trust you.
Draco felt as if someone had melted his stone cold heart and repeatedly stabbed it. He couldn't show weakness, he couldn't be weak at this moment.
Not when her life depended on him.
"I care about you, Cora. Believe it or not, I do. Truly. So please listen to me when I say to run. You're not doing this for me. You're doing this for you, so please open the door and follow me."
He waited a few seconds, and not a movement comes from either person. Draco sighed, turning his body to the main door and walking towards it. The boy looked back moments later, his eyes meeting with her cloudy ones.
One knock.
They immediately stop dead in their tracks, their mouths shutting.
Two knocks.
Cora's body begins to tremble at the sound of the knocks.
Pause.
3 knocks.
And there's a longer pause. The girl releases a relieved sigh, her body stepping forward to open the door for who she thinks is her mother.
4 knocks.
The brunette jerks away and Draco grips onto her wrist, pulling her back and placing her behind him.
"It's my father. He knocked 4 times — 4 times. No — No — No, he can't be here."
He didn't need to look back at her to know that she was frightened. Her voice gave it all away. He hesitated in turning around and comforting her, knowing he was terrible in doing such a thing for another.
But it didn't matter. The boy turned around and reached for her hand, caressing her soft skin.
"I won't let anything or anyone harm you, Cora. Not anymore." The boy whispered, observing as her eyes shut at his words — as if she were carving his words into her brain.
Her eyes fluttered open and she briefly nod her head, telling him that she'd listen to his instructions.
Draco opened the door once he was positive the coast was clear and they both stepped out of the house. Cora slowly shut the door behind her and stood inches behind Draco, his wide frame blocking anyone from seeing the girl.
As much as she hated it, she found it hard to not trust him. Even after learning the disturbing truth. She felt safe around him.
"One, two—"
The pair prepare themselves to run as fast as they can manage, sucking in a deep breath before Draco breathes out the following words.
"Three."
And they ran, Draco guiding the direction to run towards with his pointer finger. He turned his head back and spotted her father, his black cloak hiding his body. Sam sends a spell his daughter's way and before it could reach her, Draco placed himself behind her — the spell instantly hitting him. His body fell on top of Cora's, bringing her down with him.
The boy winced and Cora gasped, rapidly looking over at the boy on top of her. His hand applied pressure against the left side of his ribs. Her hand didn't hesitate in overlapping her hand with his, applying more pressure with her hand.
Draco couldn't help but smile — a warm smile. She still cared for him. He didn't deserve it, but that didn't mean he didn't want it.
"I'll be fine, Boswell. You need to run. Whatever happens, don't look back." He managed to whisper, the pain making it nearly impossible to utter a sentence.
"He'll kill you. I can't let you die. I won't allow it." She shook her head, meeting his icy blue eyes.
"And I won't. I promise. I'll be alive the next time you see me. But you need to run if you want to see me again. Now!"
She flinched, but listened. Her boots dug into the snow and she lifted herself from the ground, rapidly facing her back to the boy and ran.
Draco took a couple of short, strong breaths before lifting his head and using his abs to lift his head, sending arrows from his wand.
The arrows land on both of the man's frontal calves and shoulders, making him drop to his knees — the arrows dug deeper inside his calves.
The platinum haired boy dropped his head back to the ground and tiled his head in Cora's direction, placing his undivided attention to her.
He's surprised she'd gotten that far. She was a fast runner. A few seconds later, a boy joins her. Finn joins her, his shoulders brushing hers.
Draco blinked harshly at the lack of obedience from Finn and looked skyward, wishing it was him running with her instead. Protecting her more than Finn ever could. Most of all, protecting her from the damage he'd helped cause.
A sudden strike against his cheek makes the boy's head move in the opposite direction from where the hit came from.
A puddle of red liquid grows larger and larger as the punches accumulate, slowly losing count.
A slow, aching smile grows against his bloody mouth as uncontrollable tears fall from his eyes to the ground, knowing damn well he deserved getting punched.
For not telling her sooner.
For ever even accepting Sam's offer.
For what he had done to Cora.