The next few weeks at Grayson's passes by uneventfully. My heart is bursting from Francesca's letter and the fact that she's potentially alive, but I can't ignore the fact that Voldemort is my former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Now that I think about it, it is suspicious that he was so into teaching us the Dark Arts.
After spending a few weeks with Grayson, I began to fall terribly ill. At first it was just a small headache, but as the days progressed, I grew a fever and chills.
"Do you think we should contact your parents?" Ann asks me, taking my temperature with a muggle thermometer. I know a charm that can easily alert you if you're sick, but I'm much too weak to perform magic in my state.
"If we have to," I say, groaning.
"Will you be alright to write a letter?" Grayson asks me tentatively. "You look worse and worse everyday," He tells me worriedly.
"Gee, thanks," I mutter sarcastically.
"Er — not like that," He adds.
I take out a piece of parchment and a quill and write a short letter:
Mum and Dad,
I've recently fallen ill this week and my condition is continuing to deprecate. I am leaving it up to your judgment whether or not I should return to England.
Amelia x
"Grayson, could you have Willow send this out for me please?" I ask, handing him my sealed letter. Grayson hums in response whilst taking my letter and exiting the room.
"Is Amelia okay?" Gianna asks, crawling into her mother's lap and looking at me with wide doe eyes.
"I'm sure it's just a little cold," I assure Gianna with a smile. "I'll be better in no time."
******
Three days later, my condition continued to worsen. My parents had finally bothered to write back and what they sent me was brief and cold.
Amelia,
Return home. I've attached some floo powder to the envelope. I'll take you to St. Mungo's.
Mum
"I feel awful leaving you already," I tell Grayson guilty, once I read the letter. "This is so odd, I never get sick," I tell him awkwardly.
"Amelia, your health is much more important than visiting me. Besides, maybe I can visit you for Christmas if my mom says yes," Grayson tells me, sending a hopeful look at his mother.
"We'll talk about it later," Ann says sternly. "And your semester at Hogwarts is starting soon anyway, you'll just be leaving a week early anyways. The girls have packed your trunk for you, Amelia, you should be good to go whenever you're up to it."
I play with the floo powder in my hands. "Thank you so much for allowing me to stay —"
Ann waves her hand. "You're family now," She tells me happily. "You're more than welcome to visit whenever you'd like."
Wobbly, I stand up from the bed and release the floo
powder from my hands and onto the ground.
******
Falling down the chimney of Malfoy Manor was nowhere near elegant or classy. My mother was waiting for me at the chimney, her nose promiscuously stuck in copy of The Daily Prophet.
"Amelia! Oh you look absolutely awful!" My mother says, kneeling down and grabbing my arm so that I'm now standing upright.
"Er — hello," I tell my mother awkwardly. My raging headache subdues almost immediately, much to my happiness. I can now think straight.
"Narcissa is about to take Draco to St. Mungo's as well, she told me that you can go with her," My mother tells me. "But first do something with your hair! You inherited my beautiful blonde hair and you let it get like this!" She exclaims.
"Mother, I've been sick for two weeks. Why is Draco going to St. Mungo's? Is he alright?" I ask.
My mother purses her lips. "He's just fallen ill with a sickness, probably just a cold. You two have similar symptoms," She tells me.
"Amelia! How are you doing? Would you like a glass of water or anything?" Narcissa asks me, walking down the stairs and approaching the two of us.
"Er — no thank you, I'm feeling better already to be honest," I tell the two women honestly.
"That's lovely to hear!" Narcissa says sweetly. "I'm going to find Draco," She tells me, leaving again.
My mother grabs my sleeve violently and tugs me closer to her. "You didn't pull this stunt just to return home early, did you?" She hisses in an accusatory tone.
"No, of course not," I tell her, raising my eyebrows. "I truly feel better" I add. Her expression doesn't look convinced, to my annoyance.
"Mum!" Draco calls from upstairs. "My headache's gone!" He yells, his voice echoing throughout the house. My mother shoots me a dirty look before letting go of my arm, which causes me to stumble back over my own two feet.
"Wonderful! So we don't need to make a trip to St. Minho's after all!" Narcissa says happily, clapping her pale hands together.
I sigh. If Lucius and my father were here, they most definitely would have suspected something.
Dinner with the Malfoys was extremely awkward to say the least. Lucius and my father were rather suspicious of why I was home a week early, but they didn't say anything directly to me. In fact, the conversation at the table was very brief and formal, with the adults only talking about superficial topics such as the weather and starting our fifth year at Hogwarts.
Once dinner concludes, I head up to my room, which I haven't used in ages, to re-read my letter from Francesca. The fact that she's quite possibly alive makes my heart burst.
I think of Harry and the dementors. I wonder if Lucius would know anything. I'm much too terrified of Lucius — but his son may know a thing or two.
Surprisingly enough, I have no fear of Draco. Even if he wanted to hurt me, he can't. Well, unless he decided to punch me or something, but I don't think he'll necessarily do that.
I slide into Draco's room, where the door is opened. "Hey," I say casually, walking into his room and sitting on his bed as if I went in here everyday.
Draco, who is sitting at his desk reading a book, turns his head around slowly. "Why are you here?"
I frown. "Am I not allowed to say hello?"
Draco rolls his eyes. "What do you want, Amelia?"
I feign a shocked expression. "I don't want anything. But now that you mention it . . . I was curious to see if you knew anything about Harry Potter. Have you, like, heard anything about him?" I ask.
Draco narrows his eyes at me. "What do you know, Grey?" He asks me suspiciously.
"I happened to hear people talking about Harry. And dementors. So . . . do you know anything?"
He turns back to his desk. "Well, if you're so curious, I'll have you know that Dementors have come to attack Potter and his muggle cousin. Used his patronus and everything. He's receiving a disciplinary hearing. Hopefully this is the year he'll get expelled," Draco says smoothly.
"That's what you want? For him to get expelled?" I spit angrily. "Why can't you ever worry about yourself for once?"
"Oh please, you think I sent the Dementors? I don't have nearly enough power to do that. And as annoying as Potter is, I don't see the point in going through so much struggle to attack him."
I've heard enough. "Whatever. It's obvious you only care for yourself. You know Harry doesn't like Dementors. You could've warned him," I say.
"And why would I do that?" Draco asks. "Potter isn't my friend. I don't owe him anything."
"You stupid, selfish, git. You're unbelievable," I say, storming out of Draco's room and into the comforts of my own bedroom.
—
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QOTC: Are you ready for fifth year? (I'll give you a little hint — it will get spicier from this point on)