Malfoy tossed his chicken around in his plate restlessly, irritated. Whenever he looked up, all he could see was Maria cuddling into Davies, Maria laughing with Davies, Maria talking to Davies... her beautiful Bron gem like eyes glistening whenever she did so. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning appallingly white around his fork as he jabbed his chicken. It angered him. And the fact that it angered him angered him even more, because it shouldn’t have, and there was nothing he could do to help it. How could he have ever let himself think that she even bothered about him? He snorted. No, that little mudblood was just like everybody else. He liked it better that way, anyhow, because it made things simpler. She was after all very cute; he stuck to that, and only that, explanation... it was the only rational one. But still, he loathed himself for it, positively disgusted. He looked at his plate but didn’t raise his fork to his mouth. When he would find his appetite again, he didn’t know. A very satisfying feeling came to him whenever he saw her smiling and laughing, causing his features to twist acerbically at his inner torment. He somehow found himself wishing she would giggle at someone else’s jokes: Malfoy was well aware of Davies’ reputation.
‘She deserves nothing more than the dirt on my shoes, the bloody wretch,’ he corrected himself harshly. ‘She bloody knows about my secret!’ He cursed himself for having underestimated her. He had to know how much she knew, but it would be hard without proving her right. He would just have to lie.
***
"You can let go now, Davies. I am seventeen, I can walk on my own, thanks."
Maria had to admit Davies’ hand on her waist was getting rather annoying. They were heading back to the common room and she once again, couldn’t wait to put some distance between them. Her wish was fulfilled early enough, and she was able to go to bed at a reasonable hour. The next two weeks passed quickly, except for those lingering moments during which she couldn’t escape Davies’ too-affectionate presence. The next thing she knew, she was about to spend even more time with him, since today was their last Hogsmeade trip before Christmas. This time, she woke up early. She hadn’t finished all of her homework the night before; she would have the whole Christmas vacations to do that. Frankly, Maria couldn’t wait to go home and see her family. But that was going to have to wait until Monday.
She met Davies in the entrance near the huge doors and he greeted her gallantly. It was so cold outside that they stopped at each shop on their way, huddling inside for a few minutes of warmth before heading back into the cold. Maria thought it was fun, actually, running from one shop to another. A lot of them she had never visited before and it was interesting to see what they sold. Next thing she knew, they had entered Dervish & Banges. She took her time in this one, examining closely everything they had. She didn’t dare question the shopkeeper about Malfoy though; it would have been too risky. They sold a lot of eccentric objects, but nothing that seemed too awkward or extravagant.
They entered the Three Broomsticks as a small snow storm started to form in the pale winter sky. They decided to stay in for a few butterbeers before heading back outside. She was really starting to enjoy this drink; she loved the feeling of it as it flowed through her body, spreading waves of heat and well-being. However, it was gradually losing its effectiveness as the sky grew darker and the temperature colder. Frost was forming everywhere and Maria had a hunch, a shiver running through her spine. They heard someone scream in the distance and another one yell ‘DEMENTORS!’. Students immediately started pouring out of every shop and running towards the castle. Maria and Davies followed the flow, their hearts racing; meanwhile, he tried holding on to her hand, but it was just impossible through the thick, moving crowd. They lost track of each other and Maria steadily made her way to the side of the road. The stream of students had decreased, but it had nonetheless driven her up to the Shrieking Shack. She looked up at the dark sky and saw horrible, hooded figures circling the small village. Her breathing ragged and shivering from the cold and fear, she reached for her wand, pointed it upwards and yelled ‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!’. A silver lynx erupted from the tip of her wand and pounced towards the Dementors. Her patronus was soon joined by others, and together, they were able to send the devilish creatures away. Her whole body un-tensed at once as she forced air into her lungs to help relax herself.
She looked around swiftly; was one of the few students who had stayed behind - most of the others she recognized as members of the DA. As soon as the Dementors had disappeared, the sky had turned back to its greyish-blue winter color and the temperature had lifted a few degrees. Maria then heard muffled footsteps in the snow behind her:
"You should get back to Hogwarts. They might be back, and sooner than you think."
His voice was low, rough. She turned around; he was frowning, his bluish eyes anxious. He seemed concerned, for some reason.
"You!" she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his blond figure, "You knew they would come, didn’t you?!"
Malfoy didn’t respond. he merely looked at her, many emotions playing on his face. First there was anger, then irritation, uncertainty and finally, his brow smoothed out and his eyes lost their usual sparkle as he seemed indifferent. ‘There goes the cold treatment again,’ she thought, anger boiling up inside of her. But before her mind could continue, he cut her:
"How much do you know?"
His dead-serious tone startled her; it was full of ill-devised menace. Yet she stood her ground as she demanded explanations:
"Why where they here?"
He stepped closer, his gaze suddenly dark.
"How much do you know?" he repeated in a growl.
"WHY WHERE THEY HERE?"
Maria was losing her nerve again; she just couldn’t take his little intimidation games anymore. This was serious, damn it! Who did he want to impress? She couldn’t believe he knew Dementors would attack Hogsmeade and not warn anybody. It was very foolish of him.
"I did NOT know Dementors would come!" he roared, setting things straight. "It wasn’t part of – part of the plan… Now Cleaver, you better tell me what you know or I swear I'll hex you."
Maria felt a surprising wave of relief as Malfoy told her he wasn’t responsible for nothing. Still, his threat was very real as he glared at her through the storms that were his eyes and tightened the hold on his wand. Astonishingly, it didn’t break in two.
"You wouldn’t dare," she snapped, although she too did grasp her wand firmly.
"Don’t you test me," he snarled, stepping closer again, scowling impatiently.
Her heart starting beating faster as he stopped only a few feet from her; yet it had nothing to do with fear. They glared daggers into each others’ eyes for a long moment, all the while Maria argued with herself. Should she really tell him what she knew? Or lie? Seeing as he was obstinate on remaining hot-headed, she finally burst out:
"Fine!" she cried out, rolling her eyes. "I know that the Dark Lord’s given you a job to do, under pain of death."
She scrunched up her nose in apprehension: ‘Why did I have to say the truth?’
"Who told you that?" Malfoy’s eyes had lightened as he looked half-relieved, but still half-suspicious, raising an eyebrow.
"Moaning Myrtle."
Malfoy turned away; his nostrils flared. She was really getting into his personal life…
"Whatever it is you’re doing, you don’t have to," she contested bluntly with a calmness that even surprised her.
"He’s going to kill me, Cleaver!" he reasoned, irritated. She really didn’t understand, the stubborn little... " And my family, and anybody who’s bloody related to me. It’s no game; He doesn’t play."
"I know, but I’m sticking to what I once said: you have a choice, whether you like it or not."
"What’s that choice, Cleaver?"
Malfoy sounded defying, his face haughty, yet she could glimpse an ounce of despair in his cold, sullen eyes that betrayed him. For some reason, Maria’s insides squeezed as she noticed so.
"You can stand alone and fail, or stick up for yourself and seek help."
"I will not be helped," he replied crossly.
"But you’re going to die, Malfoy! Don’t you want to live?!"
Although she had spoken the words, she couldn’t grasp the prospect of Draco Malfoy, the one and only Slytherin, not wanting to live – if not to torment others.
"I’m bloody sick of seeing people die, of seeing people get tortured or hurt. I don’t want to drag anyone else in with me. I can handle myself."
He turned away hurriedly, hands in pockets, kicking the powdery snow that covered the ground. Somehow, confessing to her made him light-headed, almost happy, although the appropriate reaction would have been banging his head on a wall. He scowled at himself.
"You’re nothing like your father, Malfoy. I hope you know that."
Malfoy turned to face her again, shock filling his bluish eyes. The corner of her mouth was pulled upwards and her gaze was intense. Although her smile was small, it was heartfelt. Strangely, Malfoy found himself smiling too.
"You’d better get back," he said quietly.
"Not if you don’t."
He answered with a sigh, running a hand through his blond hair. He walked up to her side, keeping an awkward distance between them. They proceeded in silence, Maria looking straight ahead; but Malfoy couldn’t help throwing her a sideways glance every now and then. She was smiling, her mood bright, peaceful. She eventually sensed his stare and looked back at him, her big round eyes searching his, for once not irritated; simply curious. The sight, so close to him, hit him right in the chest, making his heart leap as he realised she was more than cute.
"Why are you so interested?"
His tone wasn’t defensive, and he knew he didn’t have to be more specific. That question had been nagging his mind and Maria honestly didn’t know what to reply, since even for her, the answer was hard to find, let alone explain. She turned her head, concentrating on the castle in front of them; his penetrating gaze was embarrassing. Light red colored her cheeks. She thought for what seemed like hours before replying:
"I guess... because I want to do my part and help fight the Dark Lord."
Her expression turned hard and serious as she made her statement: she didn’t approve of his connections and wanted it to be clear.
"Oh…" Malfoy said while looking down at his feet, his hair brushing the sides of his face. She glanced at him fleetingly: she could see that he was disappointed, somewhat torn.
"At least, that was my first excuse. But now my answer is also because I care, Malfoy. You’ve proven to be... interesting. You may be many things, but I'd wager to think you’re not cruel or dangerous; with the possible exception of how you treat Harry…"
A small smirk spread across Malfoy’s lips, and she grinned back. They walked the remaining distance to the school’s front doors in silence were they parted for their respective common rooms. However, halfway down the corridor, she couldn’t resist the urge of turning back to catch one last glimpse of him. But he had already gone.