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gloves94 · 4 years ago

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To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 18

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Violence! Blood!

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

"By far the most horrifying thing to happen at the World Cup was Saintday's make over," Pansy scoffed bitterly with a deep frown on her features.

Daphne who had been sitting in the same train compartment as Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson lightly rolled her eyes. She had been growing sick and tired of Pansy's pessimistic attitude and the fact she seemed to criticize everything and everyone around her. She had no doubt the standards also applied to her behind her back.

"I liked it," Daphne said tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder vainly. "You're awfully picky and even you fancied it, didn't you Blaise?"

"Saintday might actually look decent now, but she's still as wicked as a doxy. You can see it in her eyes.” Zabini said lowering the copy of the Daily Prophet he was reading. The cover of it depicting the Dark Mark that had been casted over the Quidditch World Cup campgrounds. “Not that I mind,” He added slimily the edge of his lip turning up.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes, he simply kept a disinterested gaze focused on the blurring greens and blues outside of the window. Nel’s eyes, doxy like wouldn’t have been how he described them. Maybe he would’ve used the word intense, usually pregnant with a strong emotion be it rage, sadness, mischief and on rare occasions joy. Like when she took the first bite of a lemon tart or whenever Ireland scored back at the Quidditch World Cup.

“What do you think Draco?” Pansy who looked beyond irritated tossed the question at him. “Hm?” He asked after a moment suddenly caught off-guard.

“See, he didn’t even notice,” Satisfied by his disinterest in the topic. Pansy rolled her eyes towards her friend. “You know what they say. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” She said nastily. “Snelly Nelly might have a new wardrobe but she’s still a graceless, nameless clod. Even the Lestrange wouldn’t claim her.”

“Stars, Pansy, are you always so unbearable?” Daphne scoffed fully annoyed before standing up and leaving the compartment. Her attitude getting on the last of her nerves.

“What?” Pansy looked at her incredulously a confused look on her pug like face. “Was it something I said?”

Daphne shut the door behind her. Blaise nudged Malfoy who seemed completely out of tune with reality.

“Something on your mind?” The Egyptian boy asked his friend partly concerned but more in a nosey matter.

Xxxxx

‘Mr. Black, I really wish we could have had a more proper conversation when we met. I have a lot of questions and it seems like we have reached a miscommunication, so here I am, writing to you demanding asking for an explanation. Seeking answers to unanswered questions.

You claimed you ‘saved’ me from some very dark people. Who? Why? How did you find me? Why did you take me away from this ‘bad’ place? I don’t mean to preach about my miserable young life, but perhaps things would have been better this way. Maybe then I wouldn’t have grown up in a hellish orphanage where I was locked up in a dark room in isolation and starved for most of my life. Or adopted by a Pureblood fanatic who keeps me tied to a chair in a locked room.

Why did you steal my life?

Why didn’t you kill me?

Why did you take me?”

I hope this letter isn’t an inconvenience, but I really need answers.

E. Saintday.’

The compartment’s door opened and Nel raised her eyes from the parchment she was currently writing as she lay spread across the emerald green seat.

“Hey Daphne!” Tracey greeted with a chirp as their chamber mate slid into the compartment. Theodore seemed to sit up, run a hand through his hair and lower the book he was reading.

“Greengrass,” Nel acknowledged and lowered her feet when the girl took a seat on the same side as her. She didn’t ask why she had bothered to grace them with her presence much too preoccupied in sealing the letter she would give to Harry when she saw him.

“How are you Elowen?” She greeted politely. “I heard you got lost at the Quidditch match,” she said tucking her skirt under her legs as she took a seat. The girl raised her dark eyes and looked at Theo and Tracey who had probably shared his information with the blonde. Then down at the newspaper she was using to support her writing. The cover of the newspaper of course had the horrifying capture of the Death Mark moving in the front. The fanged skull that had a snake crawling and knotting in a silent scream. It was chilling.

“Are we not going to talk about it?” The girl asked sitting up.

An awkward silence filled the compartment at what the orphan was insinuating. Of course, she had heard the rumors before, of course she knew what kind of people most of the parents of her Slytherin peers were. Death Eaters. Loyal followers of You-Know-Who. People who idolized and worshipped the purity of Wizard blood, or so was what she had gathered from living with the Lestranges.

“All of you knew. Didn’t you?” She accused with a serious expression.

“Nel, I-I didn’t,” Tracey shook her head. “I was with my dad.” She said defensibly bringing a hand to her chest. Her eyes darted to Theodore who let out an exhausted sight. “I knew something was coming, but not- nothing like that,” he said darkly lowering his gaze in shame at the activities his father engaged in.

“Did you?” She analyzed Daphne’s face carefully for any sign of betrayal or evidence she was lying. “No. Dad said he wanted me home early and that’s that.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek processing their words. As far as she knew the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Not that she had ever heard any of them make any vulgar comments or focus on the blood status of other people.

“You don’t understand,” Theodore slammed his book shut quite dramatically and sat up. His nostrils lightly flaring as his expression turned into an angry one at his friend’s judgment. “I am not my father. I don’t subscribe to that agenda and you know that Elowen and I don’t care what you or anybody else thinks. I am not my father!” He snapped furiously his voice raising in the loud sentence.

The girls all looked a little struck by his anger. It seemed like a nerve had been struck.

“Theo,” Tracey reached out and placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. “We know,” She said quietly.

Just like Theodore didn’t know what happened to Elowen behind Wool’s closed doors or in La Maison de Lestrange she didn’t know what happened to him behind closed doors. All she knew was that his mother had tragically passed away when he was young.

“I understand,” Daphne spoke quietly, toying with her thumbs almost as in shame. “I do think things are easier if, well, bloods don’t mix, but things are far much worse with You-Know-Who around. Him coming back… It would be like a storm with no end. Not just for muggleborns, but for all of us.”

A sullen silence filled the room. The Slytherins looked down in shame, unsure how to continue. How to carry on a conversation that was much too painful and made them vulnerable to each other. The room felt suddenly void of any air. It was almost unbearable. Tracey eyed the small window of the compartment praying that the trolley lady would interrupt and just break the tension between the four.

“In other news-“ Nel butted thankfully and Daphne looked at her confused as she stood on the seat and waved her arms comically as she tried to find her balance. “I’ve got a secret,” She teased mischievously wiggling her eyebrows.

“What is it?” Tracey inquired suddenly sharing her mood for mischief. Relived that somebody had changed the gloomy topic.

“You have to guess,” She teased.

“It could literally be anything,” Theodore protested. “Don’t tell me you’re somehow related to Potter, Weazelbee or some painful sort of story like that.”

Nel smiled wickedly before opening her trunk and pulling out a piece of paper which she now kept hidden under her shirt. “Normally I wouldn’t do this,” She said shrugging casually. “But it’ll give us something else to dissect.”

It was true.

“I met a boy,” she said bringing a hand to her mouth to hide her growing smile.

“Pretty boy Diggory?” Theodore scoffed. “What!” Tracey exclaimed excitedly leaning on the edge of her seat. Daphne looked surprised at her revelation.

“Under love’s heavy burden do I sink,” She struck her chest dramatically as she quoted Shakespeare before collapsing on top of Daphne who lightly shrieked at the impact. She figured none of them would catch that reference. “Let’s keep this in the compartment shall we Daph?” She said directly to the blonde still with a smile on her face.

“Who?” All three leaned forward intrigued sounding more like a chorus of owls than their usual selves.

Nel sat up straight removing herself from Daphne’s lap and pulled out the animated photograph she had been hiding inside of her shirt. Both Tracey and Theodore squinted their eyes taking the picture in their hands looking at the square faced, thin stranger, with dreamy eyes and curly dark waves. They were about to ask who it was when Daphne beat them to it.

“Ellar Lestrange?” She gawped eyes wide at the reveal, being familiar with the older teen.

“Lestrange?” Tracey’s expression twisted to one of pure confusion.

“Isn’t he…” Theo tip toed around the subject. “Your adoptive brother?” A smile cracked on his face before her two friends began laughing obnoxiously. “He’s not my brother!” She snapped flustered before snatching the picture back into her safe keeping. He really wasn’t. She hoped that Cloelia wouldn’t notice she had swiped it from one of her frames.

“You’re in love with your brother!” Theodore laughed the loudest even clutching his stomach as he tossed his head back. “Merlin, that’s revolting Nel!” Tracey added also laughing.

“We are not related,” She stuck her tongue out.

It was true. Her an Ellar were not related by blood as far as she knew. The two looked nothing alike. They didn’t even share the same last name and Cloelia was far from being a motherly figure to her.

“Also, I’m not in love with him,” She rolled her eyes. She really just fancied the boy.

“Sure, you just happen to be carrying a picture of him.”

The three were laughing while Daphne remained extremely quiet. Of course, she was familiar with the young man’s name and infamous reputation.

“Does he fancy you back?” Daphne asked combing her hair in almost a nervous manner. “Well...” Saintday looked up appearing lost in thought for a moment.

Ellar was… odd. He was complicated. He was older. Maybe it was something that came with age. Somedays he’d be terribly rude, other’s he’d join her in the private study and tell her stories about his days in Beauxbaton and the two would sip some wine behind his mother’s back. He had kissed her hand that one time, he told her he liked her dresses. Sometimes she would catch him starring at her from across the table. However, in the last week- the last time she had seen him was at the Quidditch World Cup. She didn’t know if he had returned home or not. If he had, he hadn’t bothered with seeing or even setting her free from the binds that kept her tied up to the chair in her room for that hellish week.

“I don’t know,” She sighed suddenly sounding tired. “He’s a student at Beauxbaton so he’s going to be at Hogwarts for the year! Maybe, we’ll see,” She said coyly.

Daphne couldn’t sit idly by any longer. She had to say something. “Oh,” The blonde broke her silence. “You do not want a guy like Ellar Lestrange to like you,” she warned shaking her head slightly. “I have a cousin that worked with him at the French Ministry of Magic, she says he’s, well, unwell.”

All three turned to look at Daphne with a confused expression. What did that even mean.

“What I’m trying to say is he’s not the best company to keep around.”

Tracey and Theo looked at their crushing friend somewhat concerned. Nel on the other hand raspberried at Daphne’s warning.

“Please,” She half scoffed in a dismissive tone. “I live with the bloke. He’s not half bad.”

“Right,” Theo added biting his lower lip. “Because he’s your brother!” Tracey laughed loudly.

Elowen crossed her hands over her chest and sank into her seat casting her friends an irritated look. “Not my brother,” She grumbled under her breath.

Again, he really wasn’t.

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