It’s with mixed-emotions that Maria stepped onto the Hogwarts Express to return to Hogwarts. She was eager to leave her brother’s boring apartment – her prison cell – but wasn’t too sure how she would handle being around... him... again. As soon as the train came to a halt, she darted out and hastily trotted all the way to her dormitory. She didn’t even bother going back down for supper; she just went straight to bed, but not without thinking ‘There goes the Davies syndrome again…’ Only this time, it was different.
The following days did not pass flawlessly as Maria had so desperately wished. She had finally decided, ignoring the gruelling complaints of her heart by locking it away, to forget about everything and move on. She was going to stick to her choice, however painful and however impossible: she had to. Nonetheless, she soon found it was easier said than done. Whenever she saw him, her heart would leap from its hollow, forgotten cavity and burst into life, as it used to. Then the pain came; sharp, excruciating... because she knew it was wrong.
Malfoy made it obvious that he wanted to talk by the way he skulked around, his greyish eyes wide, expectant. He even once tried to corner her, and nearly succeeded; luckily, Cho Chang was passing by and Maria feigned having to tell her something very important about Quidditch. On top of things, there was a Hogsmeade trip arranged for Saturday. The last thing she wanted was for Malfoy to invite her to go with him, because she knew she just wouldn’t be able to say no. Inexplicably, the more she forced herself away from him, the more it physically hurt to see him, to be near him. ‘You already made that mistake once, don’t fall for it again.’ She always had that same argument ready, and she was determined to see it through.
On his side, Malfoy had gotten Maria’s message with surprising accuracy. By the end of the week, he had, against his own will, stopped ‘chasing’ her. He decided he would simply go on with the plan she had thought up for him. People often stared at him, and he wondered whether the gaping hole in his chest that burned and festered every second of every day was that apparent. Merlin, he missed her… But he understood, and respected her choice, however unbearable. It was for her good. He knew it; he welcomed it. Her safety came before everything else, and she was finally out of harm’s way. Who was he to try and pull her back into it, regardless of how he felt? As long as she was safe and happy, nothing else mattered. However, he had to convince himself that her happiness would come in time.
Out of nowhere, a memory suddenly flashed inside his head, causing his brow to contort slightly despite the presence of other students. It was the night she had tried to teach him how to ice skate. They had collided with each other and ended up in each other’s arms. Although rather clumsy, it had been perfect. Her golden-brown hair cascading over her shoulders, her warm body tight to his, her delicious breath on his face, her surprised yet contented expression, her beautiful sea-coloured eyes, the reckless feeling that took over his heart… Realizing what it meant, Malfoy closed his eyes and hastily chased the thought away. But the damage was already done.
Leaving a troubled week behind, Saturday finally came, and as promised, Malfoy woke up before the sun rise and brought one of the Vanishing cabinets all the way to the Shrieking Shack. It had been quite a hassle, since he didn’t want to use magic, by fear of being traced. He managed to make it back to his dormitory before most of the students had gotten up. He quickly slipped back between his bed sheets, pretending to sleep - as if he ever got some sleep these days... He, ironically, had no clue that today held a Hogmeasde outing: he hadn’t been very up to date on the social goings. In fact, the last time he had spoken to someone had been two weeks ago... and that person was Wormtail. He shivered at the thought.
Meanwhile, Maria was also in bed, also not sleeping. She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, figuring out what she would do today. As the usual pain that gripped her every morning started to surface glaringly, she ignored it as best as she could and forced her thoughts back to the day to come. She had to do something; she had to occupy her mind. Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to the Hogsmeade outing. But she didn’t want to go. She had told all of her friends that she had homework to do, which wasn’t true, and that she was planning on catching up today. Maria, truly, didn’t have any homework whatsoever; having no social life had the advantage of keeping her practically locked up in the library. She turned her head to look out the window. Maybe she could go help out Hagrid. ‘Ya, I’ll do that.’
Maria spent the rest of her day assisting Hagrid with his unicorns. He had been glad to see her come, since they usually prefer a girl’s touch and she indeed had been of much help. She enjoyed it very much, wondering why she hadn’t come sooner. But in the end, the unicorns’ pure white manes awkwardly reminded her of someone else’s very blond one, always with a stifled pain in her buried heart. She quickly finished what she had to do with them and eagerly moved over to the nifflers… who almost managed to rip her ears off, trying to get hold of her tiny golden earrings. The distraction was welcomed.
Late in the afternoon, panic took over Hogsmeade. Students were innocently about their business when no less than half a dozen Death Eaters appeared out of nowhere, two of them carrying what looked like a black wooden trunk. They were laughing wildly, shooting curses at anyone who stood in their way. They entered the Hog’s Head, and the few students who happened to be inside all managed to miraculously escape, but not without collecting a severe beating. This brutal intrusion sent students screaming in all directions. Dementors were also accompanying the escort, them too trying to get their share of ‘fun’, or rather ‘food’. As everything grew darker and colder, panic spread all over Hogsmeade like wildfire and soon, all the students were running back to the castle for their lives. The first pack of students to arrive quickly warned the teachers, and Dumbledore ordered the students to be rounded up in the Great Hall while the other teachers accompanied him to Hogsmeade. Maria, who had seen that same pack run across the land, was silently wondering what had gotten into them. But as the fifth gang of hysterically screaming students ran by, she really started worrying. She then saw some of the teachers hurrying down the hill, and Hagrid gravely ordered her to go to the Great Hall, so she did. Whatever was happening in Hogsmeade, it must be terrible, Maria thought, because the hall was simply chaotic. The younger students were all crying and the older ones were visibly shocked. When she asked them what was going on, none of them could manage putting together more than three words: ‘Death Eaters’ and ‘Dementors’. Maria’s mind immediately focused on him; ‘What foolish thing has he done now?’ However, her thoughts fast-forwarded to the last time something similar to this had happened: it hadn’t been his fault. ‘Is this the same?’ It had to be. Malfoy would never intentionally do something like that, she knew it. But this was the least of her worries; somewhere in the back of her mind, she kept going over the possibility of something she simply didn’t want to acknowledge. ‘What if they came for… him?’ The horror of what was happening suddenly became very real – too real. She looked around her; the terrified faces of her fellow students spoke for themselves. She hoped with all her might that she was wrong, and refused giving the situation further thought. It just hurt too much.
Malfoy had finally succumbed to a premature state of slumber when he was woken up by the raucous upstairs. He swiftly jumped to his feet and ran all the way to the Entrance Hall. Students were crying, others were screaming, and many were running frantically. He followed the trail of students outside, struggling against the current, and saw what he had been dreading. Apparently, Wormtail couldn’t resist bringing more devoted followers. ‘Coward.’ Or, his thoughts raced, they somehow knew about Maria and were intent on finding her. ‘Shit.’
Malfoy raced across the land for the third time that day; but this time, his newly-recovered heart had gone crazy, hammering against his ribs, and Maria was all he could think of. He kept on fraying his way through the flow, stopping people to ask what exactly had happened. A third-year managed to stop long enough to tell him that some students had been attacked in the Hog’s Head. Malfoy then dreadfully remembered that she was the one who had suggested the tavern to him. His heart clumped in his throat as his worries swelled; what if she had gone to investigate and had been cursed with bad-timing? What if she had been lured there to divulge their secret? This certainly didn’t calm Malfoy. He continued intercepting students, now aggressively asking them who exactly had been attacked, shaking them brutally if need be, his voice a hoarse roar. But this time, no one answered. The surge of students rapidly diminished, and Malfoy was soon the only one left on the grounds.
Meanwhile, the Great Hall kept filling up with panicked students. This included Maria. What worried her more than anything was the fact that students had stopped entering and there was still no sign of Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey and the teachers that had stayed behind really had their hands full, especially the nurse. About twenty students had been injured or hexed, and some were in a pretty bad state. Maria felt her heart squeezed so tightly she was sure it was going to burst. She was constantly scanning the crowd for blond hair, or possibly dirty-reddish blond hair. But all she could see was Harry arguing with a teacher with Ron by his side, who had turned livid, Hermione covering her mouth with her hands, Ginny helping the injured kids with Luna, Cho crying in Davies’ arms, Neville seriously threatening to collapse onto the floor, Pansy whining loudly, apparently also looking for Malfoy, and a mass of other frightened and agitated students. As time passed, everybody eventually started calming down a little; everybody except Maria. Every second was more unbearable than the previous one. She couldn’t sit down, like the majority of the students had done; she had to walk, she had to move or else she would be submerged by emotion.
Malfoy ran through the streets of a deserted Hogsmeade. Only Hogwarts teachers were left, but they were way beyond him, at the very end of the village, inspecting. He finally reached his destination, yanking open the door. The interior was upside down; broken glass laid everywhere and tables and chairs were upset. The owner was sprawled out on the floor, knocked out. In the back, Malfoy caught a glimpse of the marvellously intact Vanishing cabinet and cursed it and himself, for that matter. Once again, there was no sign of Maria, and Malfoy was really starting to get short on patience he had already run out of long ago. But adrenaline – or something a little deeper – kept him running and going. His heart was alive again, but every beat made it churn horribly in his chest. He sprinted all the way back to the castle, sliding a couple of times on the wet grass and hitting the ground hard each time. When he had reached the entrance, both his hands were bleeding, his knees and elbows were heavily bruised and he had a big gash on the side of his face; he had collided with a sharp rock. But he didn’t stop. He followed the noise and found himself in the Great Hall’s doorframe. His eyes quickly swept over the crowd of people. She had to be here, she had to be safe, or else he would never be able to forgive himself. After what felt like an eternity, he finally found the face he was so desperately looking for. His heart stopped altogether and he felt dangerously lightheaded. The emotion that linked their eyes was startlingly powerful. A fierce feeling of warmth spread through their bodies and burned their skin as their hearts threatened to leap out of their throats; nothing seemed to matter anymore. Without thinking, without planning, they both threw themselves in the other’s arms and planted a deep, passionate kiss on the other’s lips.