NEMESIS || Draco Malfoy

10

I didn't sleep that night.

My mind too busy running around in circles, wondering what a fourth year Hufflepuff — her name was Chiara Normand — was doing rattling at Dumbledore's office door before he himself had even entered.

Wondering how I would've reacted if that was my little sister on the verge of death in the hospital wing. Wondering what would've happened if Snape didn't miraculously have the antidote.

Wondering how Snape had the antidote — how he even knew about the poison — and wondering how he knew just when to find the girl where.

She was fine, though. For now, at least.

The prospect of having an innocent life on my conscience made a chill run down my spine, clutching my own body tighter as I absentmindedly walked the corridors, Pansy's prefect badge stuck to my robes.

I swallowed thickly as I passed the same hallway in which I ran into Malfoy last time, extra careful in checking before I entered it.

The badge might fool professors and prefects of other houses — I wasn't even sure if it actually would, didn't much care at the moment — but it definitely wouldn't fool Malfoy.

Though, no matter how many times I had walked in circles around this stupid castle, unintentionally taking the same left's and right's every time, walking past the troll tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy's for at least the third time now, I couldn't think clearly.

Many times before, I had stopped to take the rather amusing sight of the moving tapestry in, watching as he attempted to train a group of eight trolls for the ballet. Tonight I walked past it without so much as a glance. And I swore when I did, Barnabas the Barmy himself turned his head to watch me leave in disappointment.

I didn't have time to swell on little things like an amusing tapestry when I just almost took a life. — and when it wasn't even me who ended up saving it.

I didn't know if this was me realising the gravity of the situation, but — if it was — I didn't want it to be.

Because no matter how drastically my own views on death changed, no matter how much the permanence of not only death itself but the act of taking a life scared me, I still had to take one. — wanted to; I reminded myself.

The ever-writhing mark on my arm making sure I didn't forget every waking second of my life, just like my sister's face did. Both of them were reminders of what I needed to do, really.

One making sure I didn't forget I belonged to the Dark Lord, and the other one reminding me of why I let myself be owned. Because, no matter how much of an honour it was to be in his presence and to have his trust with this task, I never wanted to be owned.

I enjoyed my freedom and sovereignty. And while I'm sure I would've thoroughly enjoyed working in his ranks by my own free will, being forced to do so, threatened with my own family's life, was hardly anything that motivated me more.

I quickly shook my head, ridding myself of the oncoming doubt I've been trying to suppress for weeks now.

I didn't even like Dumbledore. I took no issue in killing him.

I'd simply be more careful next time, calculate each move more to be prepared for, and avoid mishaps like this one.

I'm sure Chiara Normand would be fine.

"And what might you be doing out here in the middle of the night, Miss Hayes?"

I froze in my steps, breath hitching at the monotone voice beaming through the otherwise empty corridor from behind me.

I saw the long, raven hair in my mind before I ever turned around, swallowing thickly as a "Sir," just as monotone escaped my lips.

Turning on my heal — being met with the sight I had expected — Snape watched me intently, crooked nose pointed upwards as his eyes narrowed. They fell on the prefect badge, then, and he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"I think I'd remember if I had appointed you to be a prefect, no?" He asked slowly, seemingly relishing every word that slipped past his tongue out into the corridor in the same way so many students despised. — However, I couldn't bring myself to hate it.

Maybe the way it was stern and demanding, yet calm and collected all the same, was exactly what I needed to adapt into my own thinking.

Not hating the way he spoke didn't mean I liked him any more, though.

"I'd hope so, sir," I nodded. "Pansy wasn't feeling well tonight; I filled in her shift," I explained swiftly, not even batting an eye as the lie passed my lips.

"And you're sure Miss Parkinson knows of this?" He asked, almost amused by the suggestion. Again, I nodded.

"Well, of course. She was the one to suggest it."

"In that case, shouldn't Mister Malfoy be the one she... suggests it to?" He followed up, clearly still unsure of what to believe.

"Ah," I huffed, a small smirk forming on my lips. "With all due respect, sir, both her and I know that he's completely incapable of—"

"That's quite enough, Hayes," He snapped, cutting me off swiftly. "It's no matter. If Miss Parkinson already burdened you with her responsibilities, the least she could have told you is that her shift would have ended almost an hour ago." — well, technically, she didn't tell me anything.

"Oh."

"So, off you go before I change my mind and give you another detention." He urged me to leave with a dismissive hand gesture, and I did just that, knowing I had already pushed his buttons enough in the short conversation we held.

Though back in my dorm ten minutes later, I didn't sleep; still couldn't.

So, from the confines of my own bed, I watched the lake until the nocturnal creatures living in it retreated, the first rays of the morning sun reaching our window and Millicent Bulstrode — the only morning person in our dorm — woke up.

I didn't get an ounce of sleep that night. 

A/N: one vote equals one pray for Chiara Normand LMFAO KJBHGHJV get well soon <3 

I hope you enjoyed today's chapter! 

See you tomorrow. <3