FLORA HAD TAKEN TO LOCKING HERSELF in Pansy and her's dorm for the rest of the night.
The feeling of hunger that once consumed her dissipated with every passing minute. Music lulled in the background for hours while she lazily folded pants and shirts and tucked them into her side of the dresser. Flora could've done that with a simple flick of her wand, but she found the distraction rather comforting — her mind focused on the geometric fold of her sleeves rather than what happened in the great hall.
And when she did catch a glimpse of that memory in her mind, despite her great attempts to keep it tucked into the pages of a journal, a shudder rolled down her back in embarrassment. Utter humiliation filled her body to the brim, her skin tingled with regret, and she wished she could wash off the feeling of Draco squirming through her mind.
But she couldn't, so she resorted to distracting herself.
When all clothes were tucked away as neatly as she could get them, Flora unpacked her personal belongings bag and went to decorate her bathroom with lotions and other self-care products. Her eyes found themselves in the mirror's reflection, and Flora could barely recognize herself. From the day she'd been strapped to that chair in the Malfoy's drawing room, she barely had any time to think about herself.
She didn't eat, she didn't clean herself regularly, she rarely slept more than four hours, and her mind never rested. Even in her dreams, she would find herself imagining the worst — Voldemort standing over the dead body's of her father and sister, laughing cynically while Flora cried out for them. Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to talk with them, let them in to the emptiness she called her heart.
Flora purposefully closed herself off from them, even though the fear she felt of losing them was great.
Instead, Flora took to distracting herself with reading books and writing down notes. She was never the intelligent one, that being left to Priya, so finding the rhythm she needed to maintain daily studying was difficult. Once she did, it became second nature, and she could ignore the voices around her and the television from the living room and the incessant crying from Priya. That was the first step to occluding: centering yourself.
She could do it in practice, just not in the real world.
Flora pushed away from the ceramic counter and left their little bathroom, a hand going to run over the crevices of her face before pressing a thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose. A headache was already forming, and she spent less than a minute thinking about her summer.
Flora padded over to her bed and dug through her bag, a grimace coming over her face when she eventually pulled out her occlumency book. She'd read it at least three times, front to back, every letter that inked the pages, and she had gotten everything she could out of it. Yet she came back to it, desperate to figure something out to help herself. Other books managed to repeat the same information as this one. She felt stuck.
Her eyes skidded over the cover of Occluding: The Basic, the Intermediate, and the Advanced as she moved to the chair in front of the window, a comforting cushion calling her name as she hadn't relaxed for over two hours. Her brain was always in overdrive, and at some point, she would burn out — Flora understood this. She couldn't stop, now, not when it gave her an outlet from the craziness of Voldemort.
Flora settled into the seat and cracked open the book once more, eyes beginning to skim the familiar introduction. A sigh escaped her.
—
Time ticked by, hours passed, and Flora never seemed to notice the moonlight glittering through the Black Lake's water and into her dorm.
Flora had turned to writing on loose paper's she had found in their desk and had moved down the floor in front of the window. She found comfort laying on her stomach as her attention flitted between the occlumency book and the paper, her quill being placed between her teeth as she read over the latest chapter. It was all familiar — too familiar — yet Flora couldn't stop herself from overanalyzing the words, rethinking them, and maybe finding something that could help her perform occlumency in her day-to-day life.
She understood it was tiring, but she also knew what it felt like to be overwhelmed. Maybe this would help.
At some point, Pansy's suitcase had appeared out of nowhere in the dorm, starling Flora. They always followed the owner, like a dog afraid of being lost, so when it did appear at the base of Pansy's bed, she knew to expect the ravenette at any moment. Still, she resumed her reading until that time came, and ending up finishing the last paragraph of chapter sixteen before she barged in.
"I don't care," she hissed to someone outside the door, away from Flora's view.
He groaned.
He?
"Pansy, I can't just talk to him about it!" Flora raised a brow, only now noticing that Pansy couldn't see her laying on the floor. "You know their relationship is weird. Ever since after the Holiday break in fifth year! I can't change him."
"I'm not asking you to change him!" Pansy was angry. Her arms flailed around her as she tried to cross the point through the thick skull of any and all men. "Blaise, please. Try."
Blaise?
"Begging, huh?" He stepped forward and leaned against the door frame, a faint smirk on his lips.
Pansy crossed her arms and jutted her chin out. "I'm not begging. You're his best mate, you can convince him to. . . I don't know, relax a little."
"He's Draco."
Blaise stepped forward, arms going out to cradle the curves on Pansy's waist. She relaxed slightly and held a hand to her forehead.
Flora felt like she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to. Her eyes grew wide within seconds. Blaise and Pansy never showed any signs of caring for each other, but suddenly they're in a relationship? Did Pansy want Flora to know? Or was this supposed to be a filthy little secret? Either way, Flora felt like she invading their privacy. Even if it was her dorm.
"He doesn't listen to anyone but himself," Flora suddenly called out and hopped to her feet, wobbling slightly but eventually finding her stance.
Blaise and Pansy pulled away, Blaise going back to leaning against the doorway while Pansy advanced towards the limping girl. She just laid wrong, that's all. She didn't bother to say anything about them, or tell Pansy that she saw the small inkling of emotion between them. She just held onto her bed post and smiled.
"I tried talking to him," Pansy blurted out. "I did, and he listened, I guess. . . but he didn't understand."
"Pansy," Flora reached out and brushed a lock of the girls hair away from her shoulder. "Don't stress out about it. I'm okay, see! I'm okay, and Malfoy has some issues. We have issues."
Pansy bit down harshly on her lip, and from the corner of her eye, Flora saw Blaise turn away.
Gross.
"You two certainly have a dynamic," Pansy finally mumbled. "How do you not rip his hair out?"
Flora laughed gently. "He would simply bury me six feet under before I could."
Pansy smiled, the corner of her lips reaching high on her cheeks before she turned back to Blaise. What was she supposed to do? Walk away? Maybe hiding in the bathroom is the best option while they talk, or, you know, kiss. Flora wasn't really sure what her accidental viewing entailed, but she certainly didn't want to be stuck in the middle of it.
Before Flora could make that decision, Pansy was prancing up to Blaise pushing him out the door, mumbling something about no boy's in the girl's dorms. Flora laughed as the door shut in Blaise's concerned face, leaving the two girl's to be alone. For once.
Pansy locked the door and turned to Flora, a small smirk playing on her lips as she cast her gaze to her shoes.
"I should really apologize to him for that book thing this evening," Flora mumbled as she flopped back on Pansy's bed.
Pansy scoffed and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, her back facing Flora's face. She stared out the window for a moment, a sad smile lifting onto her lips.
"He's just dramatic," Pansy said. "He's okay."
Flora bit down on her lip and shifted to sit against the headboard. "Pansy, do you like him?"
"That's a loaded question," Pansy suddenly laughed and turned her neck to look at Flora. "He's a loaded question. Honestly, I'm not sure if I could handle it."
Flora furrowed her brows, a crease appearing between them. She didn't understand if there was a deeper meaning, or if it was just that: he's a lot to deal with. Pansy was clearly going through something with him, whether that me romantic or not, but something told Flora she needed someone. Maybe someone who would tell her the truth, someone who would comfort her, someone who would allow her to share secrets.
Because Pansy Parkinson did not have an accepting family, and Flora was sure she spent her summer cooped up in her bedroom, looking longingly out the window as she was right now.
"No," she suddenly spoke. "Not right now, not like that. He needs someone who does, though."
"Needs?"
Pansy nodded. "Yeah, he's got a lot going on with his family."
"Right," Flora raised her thumb to her lips and between to chew on the hangnail underneath her skin. "You don't want to be that for him?"
"Not like that," she breathed. "Definitely not romantically."
"Why not?"
Pansy sat in silence for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing and drawing apart every few seconds while her lips pursed into a thin line. Her mind was reeling in that moment, wishing she could help, wishing she could simply say anything that could help Pansy through her mind. She knew all too well what it felt like to be cooped up there.
Cautiously, Pansy laughed and turned her entire body to face Flora. "No reason, just don't think he's my type."
Flora rolled her eyes. "And what's your type, Pansy? Tall blonde's?"
They understood the innuendo, but pretended like neither of them cared. They did, though, and that stung.
"Actually, yes." Flora's eyebrows shot up. "But, they have to have tattoo's. Bloody Draco only has two."
"He has two?!" A blush crawled up her neck as her voice broke. She didn't care.
Pansy chuckled. "Yes, he does. Not nearly enough for me."
"Where are they?" The question tumbled out before Flora could stop herself. She really didn't care, and it felt wrong to think about Draco like that. Her imaginary eyes roamed his body in search for black ink tainting his skin.
"Not telling," Pansy stood from the bed. "They're hidden nicely."
"Right."
Flora swung her legs over the edge and took the short walk to her bed, her mind now starting to reel in memories from earlier in the day. Something itched at the back of her mind, she just didn't know what, and if she continues to hold it back, she was going to implode.
"Pansy?" The girl hummed in return. "Did you need to talk to me about something?"
Pansy froze from where she was pulling out her clothing, her fingers curling against one her white, cotton t-shirt. What had Flora said?
"Yes," she coughed and turned to face the girl sprawled over her own bed now. "And it's important."
"How important?"
"Majorly." Her lips pursed for a moment. "Like, remember when I told you about my family? Yeah — more important."
Flora shot up from her relaxed position. Ever since Pansy refused to follow the Dark Lord if he were to resurface — which he did, and Flora was sure Pansy knew — her family had basically cut her out, even going as far as removing her from their will. She was low on money ever since fourth year and struggled to pay for dinner's when they went down to the Three Broomsticks. Flora offered to help in expenses, but she refused, and kept the struggle swallowed.
Flora knew, though. She knew everything, and she knew how Pansy was suffering. Your family cutting you out, and off, is not something to be taken lightly.
So now that Pansy was saying something was more important, she felt as though ice was covering her chest. She hadn't felt that way since the time Pansy sat Flora down and cried to her about her family life. Protective, like a sister.
"What is it?"
Flora's voice was a mere whisper, but it still managed to crack under the weight of Pansy's stare.
"It's hard to explain, but I know you know." What, exactly? "Well, we heard through the grapevine that your mother was a Death Eater and now. . . well, she's gone. We can talk about that, if you'd like?"
"I've accepted it, Pansy." She swallowed thickly. "Move on."
She hadn't. Not by a long shot.
"Well, as you know, he resurfaced and he's been looking for new recruits." Her eyes shone with fear. "Like every age. she approached my parents personally and tried to get them to hand me over. They refused, saying I wasn't worth his time. It's odd, considering I figured they would've to save themselves. Either way, he — he accepted that and left. But that's how I found out. I know he's contacted other students, other purebloods, including Blaise—"
Flora's eyes widened.
"—Don't worry, Flora." Pansy whispered as she paced the room. "He didn't take it. Not—" she inhaled sharply. "Not yet. He said he had to prove himself. Or something. I'm not really sure. But. . . I think someone we know has the mark."
Flora's body went rigid. Draco had that mark, she had seen it for herself. He tried so hard to hide it, but she had seen the glimpse of the snake's tail, and knew that it was permanently staining his skin. It reminded her of the time Matilda's showed, the pure frustration that took over Flora in that moment. She couldn't feel the same for Draco, though. His entire life was basically training for this. He was brought up like that. Matilda wasn't, and she had never shared those ideals with her family.
"Who?" Flora asked.
She knew.
Pansy's eyes dropped. "I — I think Draco took the mark. Lucius must of made him, considering his family is so respected by the Dark Lord."
Flora's gut wrenched at the words because she knew it was true. From the countless conversation she's had with Lucius about Draco's future — out of pure concern from a friend — and the times Narcissa warned her to stay away from the drawing room, she could piece together that the Malfoy men had been Voldemort's favorites. That, along with Bellatrix Lestrange.
Although, she's simply a psychopath.
Pansy was so close to figuring out the truth, to piecing it together, to seeing what everyone else couldn't. Flora panicked, she did, and she had no idea what to do or say to make this better. It's was one day in, and their task was already in jeopardy. Flora's family was in the hand of Voldemort, and they were crumbling by the second.
Flora cleared her throat and forced her body to relax. "Oh, uh— he doesn't."
"How do you know?" Pansy eyed Flora. "There's no way to know unless you've seen his arm."
"I've seen his arm."
"He's been wearing long sleeves everyday for the past three months, Flora! You haven't!" Pansy was exhausted, Flora could tell. She wanted her mind to be put to ease.
Flora sighed and clutched her eyes shut. What would make her believe? Something so wrong, yet right, that it didn't make her question further? But, so undeniably plausible that she believed it? Well, something every teen could relate to.
"I know," she whispered and opened her eyes. "I know because I slept with him. Once, it was dark out. I couldn't see anything but his arms and chest."
Flora cringed.
Gross.
Pansy's eyes bulged out of her head as she stared incredulously at Flora. Was it too far? Had she made up a lie that simply could not be true?
Right when Flora was about to turn back and admit she lied, Pansy's lips fell into a lazy smirk.
"Well, took you long enough."
Excuse me?
—
Authors Note:
WE REACHED 200 READS!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!
i literally love writing so much, and i can't wait until more people gain access to my book. i know with the way wattpad works now, books at barely recommended unless you search them or read books related, but the fact that i already have 200 reads is amazing.
sorry for not uploading another chapter. i've been distracted, and i am kinda wanting to write another book which is already planned out somewhat. i'll let you know if that comes out.
thank you always for giving this book a chance :) love you
lots of love!
josie