silentt-angel

[silentt-angel]

“He’s just a boy.”

[silentt-angel]

to love and to kill - chapter 2

Summary: Draco Malfoy has been given a perilous mission: to fix an ancient magical cabinet and assassinate Albus Dumbledore. But he isn’t the only Slytherin who received a dangerous task from the Dark Lord that summer. Magnolia Stellifer, once his childhood friend and now his bitter rival, has been ordered to ensure Draco’s success, and if he falters, to finish what he started… As the wizarding world teeters on the edge of war, every decision carries the weight of life or death. Amidst the looming darkness, Draco and Magnolia find that the lines between love and hate, friend and fore, are more blurred than they ever imagined. Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Oc

Chapter Two: A Return

Sunday, 1st September, 1996

“Two hours of Ancient Runes back to back?” Theodore Nott whined as he threw himself onto one of the couches in the Slytherin common room, three lesson plans in his hand. “What kind of sadist came up with our timetable’s this year?

Daphne Greengrass practically tackled him, as she snatched the parchments from his hands. She found the one with her name and passed the other to Magnolia Stellifer. 

“You think that’s bad?” Daphne exclaimed after scanning the page. “Tomorrow I have History of Magic, then Arithmancy with Professor Vector and then Charms!”

“Dumbledore really does love his Slytherins.” Magnolia smiled bitterly at her friends. 

It felt good to sit in the Slytherin common room again and be surrounded by chatter and laughter. Magnolia had missed the leather couches, and the large fireplace, and the way the moonlight bounced off the lake and reflected onto the walls at night.

More than anything, though, Magnolia had missed Theo and Daphne. Being reunited with them felt like returning home. 

Theodore ran his hands through his hair. “I’m just glad I never have to take Divination again.” 

“I think I’d pitch myself off the astronomy tower if I had to take one more Charms lesson,” Magnolia groaned. 

“Charms isn’t that bad,” Daphne countered. “I can’t believe both of you are still taking Potions. Especially you, Theo.”

“Me neither. But my mother was adamant about me getting a N.E.W.T in Potions.”

“It’s going to be weird not having Snape teaching us,” Magnolia said.

“Apparently he’s been after that Defence Against the Dark Arts position for years now.” Daphne smirked. “But I can’t imagine him teaching anything except Potions.”

“He can’t be any worse than Umbridge.” 

“How any of us are going to pass Defence Against the Dark Arts is a mystery to me,” Theo sighed. 

Daphne rolled her eyes. “We still have a few hours before I have to look at Snape again,” she said, taking the timetable’s from her friend’s hands and tossing them onto the table beside them, “and I think we should enjoy them without thinking about our exams.”

“You’re probably right.” Magnolia smiled, leaning back.

“I’m definitely right.”

“Well, in that case, what do you say for a game of chess, Miss Greengrass?” Theodore offered.

“You know I hate chess.”

“Your loss.” The boy shrugged. “Miss Stellifer?”

“You know I never say no to kicking your arse at chess, Master Nott.”

“We’ll see about that.” He winked and bowed down, offering her a hand.

“Are you coming to watch, Daphne?” Magnolia asked, as she let Theo pull her up from her armchair. 

Daphne popped a lemon sherbert into her mouth and pretended to think. “However tempting that offer is…”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll go find my sister. You two go and play checkers for smart people.”

Theo dug a chess set out from under one of the couches and began setting it up on a table, in the corner of the room. It had always been their favourite spot to play in the common room – away from most of the commotion but with a perfect view of the whole room. 

“So,” Theo began, “has Daphne told you about her not-so-secret admirer yet?”

“What?” Magnolia gasped. “No?”

Theo smirked and went back to setting up the chess pieces. 

“You’re telling me everything. Now,” she said sternly.

Theo laughed. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if on her way to find Astoria, she accidentally bumps into Oliver Rivers…” he said, his eyes on the board. 

“Oliver Rivers?” Magnolia exclaimed, her eyes wide. “When did this happen?” 

“Not so loud,” Theo shushed her. “She’s gonna hear you, and she’s gonna kill me. Apparently, they started talking at the end of the last school year, when they both ended up in detention together.” He flipped the set-up board around. “You can start.”

Magnolia commanded her pawn to move.

“They started exchanging letters and met up a few times over the summer, but they aren’t officially dating yet or anything. Pawn to E6.”

Daphne hadn’t mentioned a single thing. Magnolia frowned slightly. 

Theo seemed to read her mind. “I only found out because his owl flew into her bedroom while I was visiting over the summer.”

“I guess I missed more than I thought.”

“I think she doesn’t want to tell you until things are official.”

“Maybe.” Magnolia shifted in her seat. “Pawn to D4.”

They drifted into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of each of them speaking coordinates. 

Magnolia had spent the majority of her summer at her grandparents’ estate in France, and so owls were the only form of communication they had. There was only so much you could say in a letter, though. Maybe that’s why Daphne didn’t tell her. Maybe she just wanted a secret.

Magnolia had acquired quite a lot of her own secrets over the summer. Secrets she could never reveal to Daphne or Theo – secrets she could never reveal to anyone.

She supposed it was only fair that Daphne had her secrets too. 

“Bishop A3.” 

Just as she said it, Magnolia spotted Draco Malfoy walking out of one of the boys dormitories and disappearing through the common room entryway. 

He had changed noticeably since the last school year. For one, he was definitely a few inches taller. His face looked different too – his features were sharper, which made him look older. His light hair hung loosely on his forehead, rather than in the slicked back style he usually wore. Magnolia was too distracted at the station that morning to really look at him.

She would have found it strange that he wasn’t spending the evening with his friends in the common room, had she not known the reason. 

Most people spent their summer going on holidays, visiting their family or spending time with friends, maybe even picking up a new hobby or something like that. Malfoy became a Death Eater. And he had a mission.

Magnolia found herself wishing desperately that she didn’t know, but unfortunately, there was no erasing that information from her mind. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had somehow gotten tangled up in the whole thing as well. She cringed as she recalled the conversation she had had at the station with her parents that morning.

“Magnolia, your mother and I would like to make it very clear to you that your,” her father paused, searching for the right word, “extra duties, do not exempt you from keeping up with your school work. Your sixth year is extremely important.”

“We do however want you to remember your priorities,” her mother said. 

“Yes, he’ll be expecting letters regularly.

“Is it safe to write about such things?” Magnolia asked in a hushed tone.

“You’ve always had a way with words, Magnolia.” Her mother gave her an almost proud smile, tucking a piece of Magnolia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to be discreet.”

“Magnolia?” Theo nudged her hand. "It’s your move."

“Right, sorry.” Her eyes fell onto the board again, and she moved her bishop.

She had no clue how she was supposed to find out how Malfoy was progressing with his task. And she wasn’t sure how much time she had to figure it out. How often is ‘regular’ to the Dark Lord?

Malfoy wasn’t someone she could just go up to and be straightforward with. Besides, this wasn’t something you could just casually ask someone. What was she supposed to say? “Hi, I know you hate my guts, but I was just wondering how murdering our headmaster was going?”

The Dark Lord couldn’t have chosen a worse pair. 

She moved another piece.

Her parents ambition was going to be the cause of her downfall, she was certain of it, though she supposed it was unfair for her to feel too sorry for herself. Things could be far worse. If they had things their way, she would be the one sneaking out of the common room at night. 

Theodore tilted his head at her and furrowed his brows before moving a piece. “Check mate.

Magnolia’s eyes grew wide as Theo’s knight smashed her king. She cursed under her breath.

“You’re out of form today,” Theo commented. 

Magnolia slouched. “I think I might be more tired than I thought I was.”

“I think you might be right.” He smiled. “You should go to bed. I want you well rested before our rematch tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Draco was stuck up and annoying, but he was a perfectly capable wizard. He would manage just fine. She just had to watch.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get up now, Daphne.” Magnolia sighed, shaking the girl's arm. She had been trying that method of waking her up for the last ten minutes, and so far, she was rather unsuccessful. “Daphne!” she yelled. 

“Five more minutes,” Daphne slurred, sleepily. 

“This is the third ‘five more minutes’.”

“Five more minutes.”

She let out another sigh and pulled her wand out of her robe pocket. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

In one swift motion, Daphne’s duvet was pulled off her and started floating above the bed. 

“I hate you so much,” Daphne groaned and covered her face with a pillow.

“Just get up, we’re already late to breakfast.”

“Five more minutes,” Daphne haggled.

“I’m using water next if you don’t get up. You said I was allowed to use any means possible yesterday.” 

She gave her the finger. 

“If you skipped the late night snogging sessions, you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting out of bed now,” Magnolia teased.

That seemed to get Daphne's attention, because her flushed face suddenly peered out from beneath her pillow. “Yeah, right. Who do you think I snogged? Nearly-headless Nick?”

“I don’t know what you’re into.” Magnolia shrugged.

Daphne finally tossed her pillow to the side and dragged herself to the bathroom. She was avoiding Magnolia’s gaze.

“I’m going to breakfast while there’s still hope I might find some food. See you later.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

She managed to grab one croissant before the food disappeared from the tables, and it was time to go to her first lesson of the day. 

The usual table Magnolia sat at each year in Potions was nearly empty. Theodore, Malfoy and Zabini were the only other Slytherin who decided to keep taking Potions.

She wasn’t surprised to see Malfoy there. He had been Snape’s favourite since the first year and always did well in potions. 

She slipped into a stool beside Theo, just as Professor Slughorn walked in.

“Thought you weren’t going to make it,” Theo said.

“Daphne.”

That was the only explanation he needed.

“Now then, now then, now then.” Slughorn beamed, as he put his briefcase down on his desk and turned to the class. “Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don’t forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making…”

Magnolia retrieved her copy out of her bag and started flipping through the pages. The material was far more advanced this year, but she was excited for the challenge. Potions was the one obvious choice for Magnolia when choosing which subjects she wanted to continue. She had always been top of the class. Although she was unsure what it was exactly she wanted to do once she graduated Hogwarts, it was definitely going to be something related to Potions.

“Now then,” Slughorn said, “I’ve prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T’s. You ought to have heard of ‘em, even if you haven’t made ‘em yet.” He pointed to a cauldron. “Anyone tell me what this one is?”

Hermione Granger’s arm shot up before Magnolia could even peer into the cauldron.

“It’s Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth,” Hermione answered. 

“Very good, very good!” Slughorn said happily. “Now,” he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest to the Ravenclaw table, “this one here is pretty well known… Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too… Who can-?”

Magnolia opened her mouth to answer, but Hermione’s hand was the fastest once more.

“It’s Polyjuice Potion, sir.”

“Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here… yes, my dear?” Slughorn said, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione’s hand punched the air again.

Magnolia scoffed and slouched in her seat. She didn’t think she would miss Snape so soon; by now he would have called Hermione an insufferable know-it-all at least once. Slughorn, on the other hand, seemed to love nothing more in the world than a kiss-arse student.

“It’s Amortentia!” Hermione called out.

“It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask,” Slughorn said, looking mightily impressed, “but I assume you know what it does?”

“It’s the most powerful love potion in the world.”

“Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?” 

“And the steam rising in characteristic spirals,” Hermione said enthusiastically, “and it’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-” Her cheeks suddenly turned a bright shade of pink, and she didn’t complete the sentence.

Magnolia had no trouble guessing which ginger had caused Granger to get so flustered. 

She took a deep breath, curious what she would smell. The first scent that hit her was fresh pastries – sweet and comforting. The next contrasted greatly, air after a thunderstorm and a deep woody smell mixed with the scent of freshly washed linens.

She smiled to herself as she imagined what kind of person smelled that way.

“Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course.” Slughorn went on. “It’s impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room - oh yes,” he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Theo, both of whom were smirking sceptically. “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of love…” Slughorn sat back down in his chair with a smile on his lips. “And now,” he said, “it is time for you to start work.”

“Sir, you haven’t told us what’s in this one,” one of the Griffindor’s said, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn’s desk.

The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle spilled. Magnolia recognised it instantly.

“Oho,” Slughorn said again.

From the brief interaction Magnolia had had with him on the train the day before, she was quite certain he had not forgotten at all, but rather waited to be asked, for dramatic effect.

“Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it,” he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, “that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?”

“It’s liquid luck,” Hermione said excitedly. “It makes you lucky!”

Magnolia noticed Malfoy sit up for the first time since the lesson had begun.

“Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it’s a funny little potion, Felix Felicis,” Slughorn said. “Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed… at least until the effects wear off.”

“Why don’t people drink it all the time, sir?” Terry Boot asked eagerly.

“Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence,” Slughorn explained. “Too much of a good thing, you know… highly toxic in large quantities. But, taken sparingly, and very occasionally…”

“Have you ever taken it, sir?” Michael Corner asked with great interest.

“Twice in my life. Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoons taken with breakfast. Two perfect days. And that is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson.” He took a miniscule glass bottle with a cork out of his pocket and presented it to the class. “Enough for twelve hours’ luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must give a warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions… sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only… and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!” Slughorn slipped the bottle back into the safety of his pocket. “So,” he said, suddenly brisk, “how are you to win my fabulous prize! Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left, which should be enough time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!” 

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scale, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Magnolia noticed Malfoy riffling feverishly through his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. It seemed that they both thought of the same use for the potion.

She wasted no more time for distractions and rolled up her sleeves, then tied her hair back with a ribbon and made a dash for the store cupboard. She had looked over the Potions book so many times over the summer that she had already memorised all the necessary ingredients for all the most noteworthy potions.

Magnolia began her work by finely cutting up some valerian roots. She forced her eyes to stay on her own cauldron and not dash around the room; focusing on what the others were doing would do her no good. The potion itself wasn’t that much more difficult than others she had successfully attempted over the summer, but it was the time limit that had her worried. Magnolia preferred to work slowly – carefully. 

She reminded herself that she has placed top of the class in Potions the previous year, and the years before, as she stirred the other ingredients in. As long as she stayed focused, the vial would be hers.

Magnolia added the valerian root into her cauldron and began cutting the other ingredients. She worked intuitively - straying from the instructions slightly where she found fit. 

Magnolia glanced down at the book as she stirred the potion and noticed she had forgotten to get toad eyes. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath and rushed towards the store cupboard. 

She found the jar quickly. Luckily, Slughorn hadn’t decided to reorganise Snape’s store cupboard just yet. Everything was in its usual place.

Magnolia turned to walk back to her station, when she collided with someone’s chest. 

“Watch it, Stellifer,” Malfoy snapped at her. 

Magnolia stumbled back, nearly dropping the jar. “You’re the one who walked into me, you dickhead!” she quipped back, looking up at the boy.

“What the hell did you just call me?” He folded his arms.

“You clearly heard me.”

“And you clearly don’t want to take the risk of saying it again.”

“Fuck off.” Magnolia rolled her eyes as she pushed past him. 

His arm went up to stop her, but she ducked underneath it. Magnolia would have gladly continued the insult match any other day, but she was working on a time limit. She couldn't afford to waste time on petty fights.

She was red with anger when she got back to her station. One of the frog eyes she started crushing shot across the room. 

She took a deep breath and told herself to slow down.

It was infuriating not being able to yell at Malfoy that she was trying to win that potion for him and all he was doing was preventing her from working. It was tempting to just knock the cauldron over, give up on the whole thing, then show him the finger, but she managed to silence that voice and continue working. She reminded herself that she wasn’t doing this for him; she was doing it for herself. 

The potion had just begun to start looking more and more like the shade described in the book when Slughorn called for everyone to stop and step away from their potions. He moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. 

Theo and Malfoy’s potions were both still a dark shade of blue and Zabini’s had somehow turned orange, which calmed her slightly. Magnolia just had to hope that, although she hadn’t managed to finish, something had gone wrong with Granger’s potion, and hers was still the best.

If only Slughorn could have given them two more minutes.

Magnolia held her breath as the Professor stopped to examine her potion.

“Very good,” he said and gave her a wink.

Theo nudged her arm playfully. “What are you going to spend your perfect day on then?”

She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t won anything yet,” she said, but she couldn’t help but smile proudly. 

Slughorn hadn’t said anything while looking at any of the other potions so far, not even Granger’s. 

“Well,” Slughorn began, “it’s a close call, but we have a winner.” He stretched his arms out theatrically. “Harry Potter! Merlin, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potion, Lily was!”

The smile instantly fell from her face.

“Here you are, here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

“Potter?” her and Malfoy exclaimed in disbelief at the same time. 

Theodore glanced at both of them and shrugged with a laugh.

“Since when is Potter any good at Potions?” Malfoy snarled.

How did she let Potter beat her? She hadn’t even considered the possibility. Potions was supposed to be the one thing she excelled at.

She glanced at the Gryffindor table, daggers in her eyes. She and Malfoy weren’t the only ones who were surprised. Granger looked like she was about to burst into tears, and Weasly’s mouth was still wide open, his face full of bewilderment. 

“Reckon you could make it?” Theodore whispered to her, his eyes were where hers were.

“Doesn’t it take like six months to brew?”

“Yeah, but I think that’s worth a perfect day.”

“Maybe,” Magnolia considered, “but Slughorn said it was difficult.”

“If anyone could, it would be you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Magnolia said, her voice rich with bitterness. “Potter became quite the Potions prodigy over the summer.”

“I don’t think anyone saw that coming,” Theo laughed. 

She noticed Malfoy studying her, his brow slightly furrowed. She was curious what insults he was throwing at her in his head.

It was moments like this when it was the most difficult for Magnolia to comprehend what Malfoy was going to do. When she looked at him, all she saw was the same snarky boy she had known since she was a baby. The same boy she would exchange insults with almost every day. 

Not a killer.

Not a Death Eater.

It shouldn’t surprise her that much, not really. His father was currently locked up in Azkaban for an attack on the Department of Mysteries, and she had heard Malfoy call someone a Mudblud too many times to count.

And yet, it did surprise her.

[silentt-angel]

to love and to kill – chapter 1

summary: Draco Malfoy has been tasked with fixing a magical wardrobe and killing Albus Dumbledore. But he isn't the only Slytherin who received a task from The Dark Lord that summer - Magnolia Stellifer has to make sure that Draco doesn’t fail, and if he does, she has to finish what he started... An enemies to lovers retelling of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. pairing: draco malfoy x oc

1. A Beginning 

Sunday 1st September 1996

To say that Draco Malfoy was annoyed, would have been an understatement. He had only been at Station 9¾ for a total of seven minutes, and he was already cold, his new shoes were making his feet hurt and he was beginning to regret skipping breakfast that morning – just like his mother had told him he would. As if that wasn’t enough, some snotty first year student was wailing about something loudly right next to him. Had Draco’s mother not been standing beside him, he would have definitely hexed the boy into oblivion by now. Since she was, though, he settled for imagining all the things he could do to the boy with a single spell. His list was getting quite impressive.

There was something that was gnawing at the back of his mind that was annoying him far more than all of this, though – Draco missed his father. 

And he didn’t like it. 

Lucius Malfoy had never been the warmest of people, and certainly not the warmest of fathers. He could be stern and demanding and strict, but he was Draco’s father, and since Draco started Hogwarts six years prior, Lucius had been there every single year to see him off. It felt strange not to have him there. It made Draco feel like things really were changing. 

It also made him feel like a soppy git. 

Draco didn’t think he would care, and going back to Hogwarts was usually accompanied by a buzz of excitement he was certain would drown out any other emotions. This year the feeling was nowhere to be found. Instead, all Draco felt was a strange emotion he couldn’t quite put a name to.

Needless to say, so far, his day was going pretty shit. 

“Are you sure you have everything you need packed, dear?” Draco’s mother asked him, straightening the collar of his cloak. 

Any sign of summer had disappeared completely with the start of September. Everything was already cold and grey. The wind tugged at his mother’s hair angrily, blowing the black and white strands. 

It felt fitting. Having the sun shine over him brightly all summer felt sacrilegious. 

“Yes, mother. You’ve asked me that thrice since we got here.”

“I just want to make sure,” Narcissa said softly, drawing her hands away from him. 

Draco mustered up a weak smile. 

“I need you to be careful.”

“I will,” Draco assured her.

“I mean it,” his mother said. “I won’t lie to you, dear – I’m worried about you. What you are doing is extremely dangerous, so I need you to promise me that you will be careful .”

Draco swallowed thickly. “I promise,” he said. 

He hated having conversations like this with his mother, and they were having an awful lot of them as of late.

“And remember: the only person you can talk to about this in that castle is Severus. He is the only one who you can trust. Understood?”

Draco pursed his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard his mother use such a harsh tone with him. He didn’t fault her. Her husband was in Azkaban, and now her only son was risking the same fate. 

He wished his mother didn’t know about the task. Wished that he could at least take this burden from her. 

“Understood.” 

Narcissa’s eyes softened again. “I'm going to miss you very much, Draco.”

“I hate to leave you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She smiled. “I shall manage just fine. I always do. Now,” she smoothed out her dark skirt, “I believe I have just spotted the Stellifers. Let us go and say hello and then you should be on your way.”

Draco felt the stares that followed him as they walked. He was used to people looking at him. He was a Malfoy, after all; everyone knew who he was since he was a tiny baby. This felt very different, though.

Death Eater. 

Scum. 

He’ll be joining Lucius soon.

Bastard should have got much worse.

Hope he rots in Azkaban like his daddy.

Insults were hurled at him in hushed tones.

“Do not listen to them.” His mother pulled him closer, shooting daggers with her eyes at anyone who looked their way. “They will find something new to gossip about soon.”

Draco replied with a low hum. “Unlikely,”  he said. “But I’m not concerning myself with what some mudbloods have to say about us, and you shouldn’t either, mother.”

“It does not bother me when it is me they are talking about,” Narcissa frowned. A faint line appeared between her brows. “But I hate it when they speak about my boy that way. You are right, though. We must not bother ourselves with that type of nonsense. People will always talk.”

To Draco, it sounded like his mother was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.

“It’s fine. I don’t care, really,” he said.

It didn’t feel good, but Draco was slowly getting used to it. He had to. Since his father had been sent to Azkaban, Draco couldn’t cross the street without hearing the words ‘Death Eater’ being spat at him. There was no point denying it or saying anything, really. It’s not like they were entirely wrong, either. 

“Now,” his mother smiled at him, “please try to look a bit less miserable for the next few minutes.”

Draco scoffed but mustered up a neutral expression. 

“Leonidas! Idris! Lovely to see you as always,” his mother greeted the Stellifers politely. “You too, Magnolia.”

Draco shook Mr.Stellifer’s hand and sent Magnolia and her mother a polite nod as they exchanged pleasantries. 

“Doesn’t time just fly? When did your Magnolia grow into such a wonderful young woman?” his mother gushed.

“Isn’t she just precious?” Idris Stellifer cooed, pleased at the compliment, a hint of French in her accent. 

It took a lot of effort for Draco to stifle a laugh.

He had only seen Magnolia once the entire summer, at the annual ball her mother organised. It was probably the longest they had gone without eachothers company their entire lives. Draco considered it one of the major advantages of the Dark Lord’s return. 

She looked the same as her had remembered her, in her brown overcoat. Maybe a bit older. A bit more tanned with a few light freckles decorating her slender nose that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps her hair had grown a bit over the summer too – it fell over her shoulders in long, dark curls. 

Draco felt his mother nudge him gently and realised he hadn’t been listening to the conversation at all. 

“Your Draco has had to mature incredibly these last few months, hasn’t he? Step up and be the man of the family,” he heard Magnolia’s father say. 

“He certainly has.” Narcissa nodded.

Draco hated these types of conversations. Hated how people would always speak about him as if he wasn’t standing right there. 

“These are strange times we are living in,” Leonidas went on. “We need to look out for each other.”

Draco thought that ‘strange times’ was a generous way of putting it. 

“We just wanted to remind you that if you ever need any help, we are always here,” the man added. 

“That’s very kind of you, Leonidas.” 

“It must be so difficult without Lucius.” Idris Stellifer gave them both a sympathetic smile. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like,” she said, and turned her gaze to her husband. 

Leonidas smiled at her gently and grasped her hand in his.

Draco couldn’t understand why people said things like that so often. Did they really believe it would make anyone feel better? It made him want to scream. 

His mother gave them a small smile that Draco had come to know very well in the last few months and said, “It is certainly quieter at home.” 

It was quite the opposite, actually.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt,” Magnolia spoke suddenly, “but I think me and Draco ought to go. The train will be leaving soon.”

“Right, of course.” Her mother smiled. "We wouldn’t want you missing it,” she said. “But before you go, let me give you one last big hug.” She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. 

Draco turned to his own mother. 

“Do not forget to write to me,” she said with a tired kind of smile on her face.

“I won’t,” Draco promised.

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “Off you go.”

He made sure to look at her for as long as he could before he had to turn away and start walking towards the train – to try and remember every detail of her face. Draco didn’t let the thought form into a sentence in his head, but a tiny part of him was afraid of that being the last time he would see his mother.

He pushed the thought away quickly. He wasn’t going to let it be. 

“Goodbye, mother.” Draco swallowed thickly before turning back to the others. “It was good seeing you, Mr and Mrs Stellifer.”

“Draco, dear,” Magnolia’s mother stopped him. “Would you mind helping Magnolia with her bag?”

“There’s really no need, mother,” Magnolia protested. “I wouldn’t want to trouble Draco.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, with a smile that he knew made all mothers like him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They walked side by side towards the Hogwarts Express, Draco stealing quick glances at Magnolia’s face. There was a tiredness in her eyes and a frown on her lips that he hadn’t noticed before. He wondered what could have caused it. It was difficult to remember what kinds of problems people who weren’t doing the Dark Lord’s bidding had. 

“You look ravishing today,” he drawled sarcastically, finally breaking the silence.

“Tiring summer,” was all Magnolia said in response. 

“Oh, right. It must be awfully taxing having to attend so many balls and picnics,” Draco said, with pretend sympathy.

“You’d know all about that.”

“Would I?” He smirked. “I don’t recall attending many tea parties this summer.”

She furrowed her dark brows. “What’s your problem, Malfoy?”

He laughed. Given by how quickly he had managed to get her riled up, it seemed he wasn’t the only one in a bad mood. 

It felt good to pick a fight – finally have someone to snap at. 

“Were the balls any fun at least?” he asked.

“Certainly the ones you weren’t at,” Magnolia snapped back. 

Draco would have been at all of them if Voldemort hadn’t been spending his time in Draco’s living room most nights. 

“I’m sure my company was dearly missed.”

She laughed back at him. “I beg to differ.”

“I’m doubtful.” 

“I wouldn’t expect any different, you arrogant twat.”

“Good, you know me well then, and you shouldn’t miss me too much now, either.” Draco grinned at her one last time before letting go of her suitcase, giving it a hard push towards the train tracks and strolling off, “You’ll manage just fine with that, I presume?” he called over his shoulder.

Magnolia stood where he had left her, giving him the middle finger, the two green ribbons in her hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It didn’t take long for Draco to find the compartment his friends were sitting in. 

“About time,” Blaise Zabini said, shaking his hand. “We thought you weren't going to make it.”

“I hoped I wouldn’t.” 

“But you’re here.” Blaise grinned. “And that means you owe me a galleon, Goyle. Don’t think I forgot,” he shouted across the compartment. 

Goyle groaned and started rummaging in his pockets. He slid a few coins over the table to Zabini. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, mate.” 

“I’ll be having a percentage of that,” Draco said. 

Blaise frowned. “We’ll see about that.”

“We were actually just talking about you before you came,” Pansy Parkinson said, changing the subject.

“You were?” Draco raised a brow.

“Just wondering,” Pansy said with a sickly sweet smile, “what Master Malfoy was so busy doing that he couldn’t be asked to reply to a single letter all summer?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Some of us didn’t spend our entire summer sunbathing in Italy,” he said. “I’ve had to take on some of my father’s responsibilities. It’s kept me pretty busy.”

He noticed the way Blaise and Pansy looked at each other awkwardly, but chose to ignore it. 

“How was Italy?” he asked, in part because he wanted to stop her from having a go at him, but also because he was dying for a normal conversation that had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, and his father, and the war.

Luckily, Pansy didn’t need much encouragement. She started babbling happily about the beaches, all the food she ate, the people and all the wine she managed to swipe from her parents. Draco was grateful not to have to speak for a while. It was nice to listen to something so down to earth.

It didn’t last very long, though. 

“You know,” Pansy said, “apparently some people aren’t coming back this year.”

“Muggle-borns,” Blaise chimed in. 

Draco leaned back in his seat. “People are starting not to trust Dumbledore with their precious children as much.”

“Took them long enough,” Blasie sighed. “He let a bloody werewolf teach us.”

“Lupin wasn’t all that bad,” Pansy countered.

“Did you fancy him or something, Parkinson?" Draco joked.

“You think I’m into hairy guys?”

“I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him.  “At least he actually taught us something. Better than Umbridge.”

"S’ppose” Blaise shrugged.

The compartment doors swung open and the freckle-covered face of some Ravenclaw student peered inside.

“Hi, sorry, is there a Blaise Zabini in here?” the girl asked.

“Depends who’s asking,” Blaise drawled.

“I’ve been asked to deliver a message from Professor Slughorn.”

The girl passed Blaise a wax sealed envelope. Pansy peered over his shoulder as he opened it. 

“That’s the new Potions professor," she said. “He taught my father.”

Blaise scanned the letter quickly and scoffed.

“What is it?” Draco asked. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, the mysterious letter had sparked some curiosity in him.

“Looks like I’ve got lunch plans today.”

“Who would have thought you’d be such a teacher’s pet, Blaise,” Pansy giggled. “Getting invited to lunch by a professor on the first day back? Must have been a busy summer.”

“What does Slughorn want with you?” Draco asked. “You’re awful at potions.”

“Beats me.” Blaise shrugged. 

“Maybe Slughorn’s doing special classes, for those most in need, this year,” Pansy suggested, smiling innocently. 

“Rude.” 

“Only logical explanation.” Draco smirked.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on either of you,” Blaise said, standing up. “Let’s hope the food is good. See you later.”

He left the compartment whistling, his hands in his pockets, leaving just Draco and Pansy in their booth. 

The girl pressed her forehead against the window. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her jumper, each of them decorated with chipped black polish and silver rings. They both sat in silence for a while, looking at the rolling hills they were passing, before she said, “Isn’t it strange that we’re only going to get to do this one more time?”

He raised a brow. “Pansy Parkinson getting sentimental?”

She laughed. “Maybe a bit. Hogwarts is a shithole, but I’m going to miss it. I’ve spent most of the last few years of my life there.”

He decided not to tell her that he may not be there with her on the train next year. That by then he might be onto bigger things.

This was going to be a good year for him. Draco was going to make sure of that. It was going to be difficult, but it would all be worth getting his father out of prison, restoring his family’s good name and keeping his mother safe. There was a lot he was willing to do to accomplish that.

Apparently even murdering his headmaster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Blaise returned after an hour. He already had a scowl on his face as he swung the compartment door open, and it only deepened when he couldn’t get it to shut again.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” he asked angrily, as he tousled with the door. 

Just as Draco got up to help him, the door slid open completely, and Zabini toppled over sideways, landing straight in Gregory Goyle’s lap. Pansy and Draco both erupted into laughter.

“Oi!” Goyle snarled. “Get off me.”

“You’re acting like I wanted to land on your fat arse!”

“We all know you like it, Goyle,” Pansy jeered.

“Get your hands off me,” Zabini spat.

“You’re the one sitting on me!”

“Keep telling yourself that, mate.”

Blaise leapt up before Goyle could shove him off and slumped down next to Pansy. Draco sprawled out across the free seat next to him. He listened as the two slytherins continued to squabble with a smile, when something white flashed before his eyes. Draco frowned slightly.

“How was it?” Pansy asked, still laughing slightly.

“One of the biggest wastes of time,” Blaise groaned.

“What did Slughorn want?” 

Draco was glad that Pansy asked before he had to. Blaise was always far too pleased when he forced someone to try and pry information out of him.

“Just trying to find some well-connected people,” he said, straightening his jacket. “Not that he managed to find any.”

“Who else did he invite?” Draco asked.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” Blaise replied.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry.” Pansy filled in.

“–somone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw.”

Pansy scowled. “He’s a dickhead.”

“Magnolia Stellifer was there too,” Blaise added, and Draco noticed the way he looked at him, searching for a reaction.

It didn’t surprise Draco one bit that she was invited. She was brilliant at potions – he had to give her that.

“– and Longbottom, Potter and that Weasley girl,” Zabini finished.

“He invited Longbottom?” Draco laughed in disbelief. 

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Zabini said indifferently.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Pansy asked.

Blaise shrugged.

“Guess the whole Potter fan club scored an invite,” Draco sneered. “Even the Weasley girl.”

“A lot of boys like her for some reason,” Pansy said. “Even you think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please.” She wriggled her thick eyebrows suggestively. 

Blaise made a gagging noise. “I’d rather snog Goyle.”

“I don’t have a hard time believing that after what we just saw,” Draco teased.

“Not that I want to spend my free time with that old man,” Pansy said, “but I’m a bit surprised that Malfoy and I weren’t invited.”

“I wouldn't bank on an invitation,” Blaise said. “He asked me about Notts father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry, he didn’t look happy. And Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters. At least not convicted ones.”

Draco let out a single humourless laugh. “His loss.”

“We’re nearly there,” Pansy said. “We should get our robes on. Blaise needs all the time he can get in front of the mirror.”

The boy clutched his chest. “How thoughtful, Pansy.”

As they all stood up and Goyle reached up for his trunk, Draco heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a faint grunt. He looked over at Pansy and Blaise, but they were still going back and forth about something, oblivious to the strange noise. Draco continued pulling on his robe like he hadn’t heard anything and reached for his trunk. The train halted.

“You guys go on,” he told his friends. “I just want to check something.”

Draco waited until he couldn’t hear anyone in the corridor and lowered the blinds. He bent down and reached into his trunk, then spun around and pointed his wand at the luggage rack.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Just as he had suspected, Potter came toppling down from the rack, his head and torso sliding out from underneath an invisibility cloak. He landed right at Draco’s feet. 

Draco smirked down at him. “Hello Potter. I thought it was you,” he said jubilantly. “I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you and thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back… It was quite rude of you not to say hello.”

His eyes lingered for a moment on Potter’s face as he considered how much he could get away with. 

“You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter, but while I’ve got you here…” Draco stamped down hard on Harry’s face. He heard a crunch under his shoes as Potter’s blood spluttered everywhere. “That’s from my father.” He kicked again. “And that’s from me.”

Potter’s glasses had snapped into three pieces and the glass had shattered, some of it slicing into his – definitely broken – nose. 

It felt good to see him so defenceless. The legendary boy who lived at his feet. It was his fault that Draco was in the position he was in.

“Oh, dear” Draco cooed cruelly. “You’ve made quite the mess.” He wiped his shoe on Harry’s shirt, then dragged the cloak from under Harry’s immobilised body and threw it over him. “I don’t reckon they’ll find you until the train’s back in London,” he said quietly. “See you around, Potter… or not.”

He took care to tread on his fingers as he left the compartment. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Does Potter’s nose have anything to do with what you left on the train?” Pansy asked Draco during the feast. 

“Perhaps.” He smirked, pleased with himself. What he did was going to be the highlight of his week. 

The Slytherin table erupted into laughter. They were silenced only by Dumbledore stepping onto the podium. 

“The very best of evenings to you!” Dumbledore said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide enough to embrace the whole room.

Draco groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you...” 

He mostly drowned out the sound of Dumbledore’s annual speech.

“...those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn. He is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master. Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore said, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.” 

Draco lifted his head off the table at the name ‘Lord Voldemort’.

“I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety.” 

The old man had no clue what he had coming. 

[silentt-angel]

[silentt-angel]

the colours of my love

Summary: Sirius is writing Remus goodbye letters from Azkaban.

Black.

Everything always starts with darkness, so it seems only right for me to start here.

Whether it was because of the divine intervention of some powerful being, whether our bodies were shaped from clay or from Adam’s rib, or from something different altogether; whether it all started from a powerful explosion and chaos— it started with darkness, and from the darkness, there emerged a light.

Just like the world, we came from darkness. It was only later that we grasped what light was. I guess you could say that everyone does. But our darkness was different. I think that’s part of why it was easier for us to bond than for the others. Why we were drawn to each other so much. Like calls to like.

James didn’t understand the darkness that we came from. I’m glad he didn’t; I’m sorry you did. Our burdens were different in every way, but nobody understands someone who’s in pain, like another suffering person. You are one of the strongest people I know, Moony. I’ll never stop admiring your bravery. You took the hand life dealt you and made the most of each card.

Life is a cycle, and things often end the same way they began. Soon, my life will end in black – the last thing I’ll see will be the grimy hood of a Dementor. I’ll let it steal away the happy memories I’ve been clinging on to. I don’t deserve to have them; I deserve to rot and decay without any hope or happiness or love in my foul heart. James and Lily will never get to feel those things again. And it’s all because of me. I betrayed my best friends. I failed them when it mattered the most.

I hate the thought of my memories disappearing without a trace. I want to be selfish and tell you all the things I never got the chance to say. Even if my words won’t reach you, I want to free them from my heart. There won’t be anyone around to mourn me, so allow me to mourn our love. Allow me to pity myself. Allow me to succumb to the will of the weak man I am. I don’t want you to ever think I never cared about you, about Lily and James and Harry, when I would trade my life for all of yours in a heartbeat. Merlin, do I wish I could strike that deal with someone. Anyone.

I'm sorry that I left you all alone, Remus, even though I promised you so many times that I wouldn’t. I’m sorry that I destroyed everything. I’m sorry that I ruined so many futures. I’m sorry that I wasn’t who you needed me to be. I thought I could be better for you, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry I disappointed you. Believe me, it hurts me so much to know that you won’t ever want me by your side anymore.

I’ve replayed that conversation with James so many times. I killed James and Lily.

You don’t deserve a killer.

I know how much you must hate me now. It’s a just punishment for what I did. Nothing could hurt me more, and I deserve every bit of this pain.

As I sit in my cell, awaiting death, I hope only that you will find light in the dark.

The only thing that has been keeping me sane is replaying my memories of you in my head. I will never cease to be grateful to James for noticing you on that first day at Hogwarts and asking you to bunk with us. I’m grateful for him noticing me – taking me under his wing. I remember feeling so nervous to talk to you for the first time. I had never felt anything like it before. Sirius Black didn’t get nervous. And yet, when I looked at you, there was a knot in my stomach. I had always prided myself on not caring what other students thought of me. But you? I was so desperate for you to like me. I tried so hard, and I’m sure you could tell.

We would have found our way to each other sooner or later regardless, but I’m glad I could be your friend from the very start. I’m glad we could have at least eleven wonderful years together. They were the best years of my life.

I would trade everything I have left for one minute with you – for a proper goodbye. I haven’t had enough of you yet. I want more so desperately, I’d dig my way all the way to you with my bare hands if I could.

I’ll never forget what it was like to see the polished black wheels of the Hogwarts Express for the first time. I owe so much to that bloody train. It was an escape for both of us. We found our home because of it. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail – four perfect friends for life. Or so we thought.

You and James became my family. Our beginning was pure and innocent in that special way that every childhood friendship is. It became so much more, though. You two were there for me through every hardship and every high. You truly wasted your good on me.

I remember being huddled over a cauldron with James during one of our first potions lessons in the first year. We were bickering about something so loudly that the professor moved me next to you. I made a fuss of being upset about it, but secretly I was glad to be able to sit with you. It also turned out you were a lot better at potions than James (he really didn’t inherit his father’s gift). From then on, you were my potions partner until the very last lesson.

Before you, the only colour filling my pages was black. You truly did live up to your name, Moony; you lit up my sky. You made me stop thinking about the dark, like something terrible and scary, but instead as what comes before something great.

I never expected me to end up being the sappy one. I guess that’s what love does to a guy. And I guess many, much more unexpected things have happened to us.

At it's very core, my love came from the darkness. I coddled my fragile heart in the dark and hid it deep inside me my whole life. Years passed before I let you unravel my defences with your slender hands and soft words. But my love for you was never just that. I was never just black. You brought so much colour into my life.

So, Remus, let me guide you through the colours of my love.