Liar, Liar

6: You Know Where You Belong

Not expecting him to help me up, not even for a second, I jumped to my feet. "Move, Malfoy," I spat in his ugly skinny pale face.

"Or what?" He raised his eyebrows. "Or what, Agoria?"

Shaking my head, I tried to go around him, but he stopped me in my tracks.

"Were you about to threaten me?" He snickered. "Awe. How adorable. How pitiful." He started to circle me. I gripped my wand, feeling sweat dripping down the sides of it.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, Zelle. Was that a threat?"

"N-no," I snapped back, yet I'm sure he heard the tremble in my voice.

He lunged forward, his icy eyes piercing mine. His hand enclosed around my left wrist. I struggled against his grip, yet he pulled my sleeve up regardless, pointing his wand at the mark. The one his father had graced me with. Lucky me. "You know what that means?" He asked, leaning in to me.

"Let go of my wrist," I hissed in his face.

"It means you're one of us," he said, ignoring my reply. "He saw something in you, the Dark Lord. It's why he assigned me to you," his grip tightened. "It's why he had me lead you on last year. Why I kissed you under the arch. Why I told you those pretty little lies."

My stomach turned, as if someone had poured spoilt milk down my throat. My wand poked into his stomach, yet he didn't seem to notice it. He was intent on making me hurt, making me realize how foolish I'd been.

"Don't you believe for one second I felt anything for you."

"I'll never be one of you," I spat in his face. "This tattoo on my arm means nothing. It's just some ink," I laughed in his face, hoping he couldn't sense the nervousness rising in me.

"Careful," he growled at me. "You dare say that?"

"What's he going to do, huh, Draco?" I laughed again.

"Kill you, for starters," his hand twisted around my wrist. "Although I'm sure he won't make it that easy. I could offer him some suggestions, seeing that I'd love to punish your bratty annoying self," he smirked.

"Leave me the hell alone!" I yelled at him. I didn't have time for this. I was probably already late to Transfiguration, and on my first day, too. Not the impression I wanted to leave on McGonagall on my first day of seventh year.

"And what if I don't?" He asked, digging his fingers deeper. I could feel the bruises start to form. Great.

Before I could respond, which was about to include a spell shot straight into his stomach, a booming voice echoed down the hall.

"Enough!"

My body went still and the blood drained from Malfoy's face.

"Release Miss Agoria's arm," Snape's voice drawled. "Detention tonight, Malfoy, for disruption in the hallways. Miss Agoria, detention tomorrow for tardiness."

"B- she started it!" Malfoy blubbered, gesturing at me. I started at him stony-faced.

"I don't care," Snape said, his figure retreating back into his classroom.

Without another word to me, Malfoy strode in the opposite direction of Snape's classroom. I waited a little, catching my breath, my thoughts in a swirl. I tried to calm my brain in case what Snape said was true and I had really loud thoughts. Whatever that meant. What now? What the hell now?

My Father. He'd know the solution, he'd know what to say. And maybe a hot tea with Mrs. T later tonight. That will fix it. That will surely erase Malfoy's words, ringing through my head, scarring my memory. I took off toward his office, running up the stairs, nearly passing through a ghost.

"Skipping! We've got a skipper!" I heard a portrait wickedly cry out.

"Shut it!" I huffed back. My robes fluttered behind me as my Doc Martins pitter-pattered on the empty floors. It was a real sprint to Dumbledore's from the dungeons, that was for sure. My left hand gripping my wand, I made my way up to the top of Dumbledore's tower. The gargoyle outside his office looked at me expectedly. "Pop tarts!" I cried out, breathless. It slid to the side, allowing me access to his massive office. However, my father wasn't sitting in his desk, or standing around admiring his various artifacts while having conversations with paintings of Hogwarts' previous headmasters. He was nowhere to be seen.

I walked to his pensive, peering in to see if he was visiting a memory. The shadows of two figures rambled aimlessly inside the rippling water. One was clearly Dumbledore, yet there was someone else with him, a head or two shorter, walking alongside him. A student? I frowned. What student could Dumbledore have possibly taken into the pensive with him? And to show them what?

I peered closer, trying to see something, even though I knew I'd have no access to the memory. I'd only been into the pensive a few times with Dumbledore. I gently blew on the surface, something Dumbledore had taught me to do to alert him that he was needed while he was in the pensive. Dumbledore's hand grabbed the hand of the other figure, and they rose, nearing the surface, their figures growing in size. Two forms materialized at the sides of the pensive, their heads submerged in the water. Dumbledore shook water from his beard, smiling at me. I looked curiously at the other figure.

Harry Potter.