better times // draco malfoy

SEVEN.

( clarity ! )

HARGREEVES

As she enjoyed her breakfast, Draco's owl stopped by and gave her a note.  Halia thanked the owl by giving it treats she had with her, and it flew away. She looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

Halia opened his note, and it contained nothing more than a few words. It read;

Sorry, Halia. I have detention with
McGonagall for the day. Take care.

She frowned, noticing that he didn't even sign it with his name nor initials. If not for his handwriting, Halia was sure she wouldn't recognize who it was from. She finished eating, and left the Great Hall with a tinge of disappointment lingering in her heart.

Halia was originally planning to invite Draco to Slughorn's upcoming Christmas party. The professor allowed them to bring someone, whether they were in the Slug Club or not. She hoped that she could ask him, since she figured out that he was working on his mission for the Dark Lord-- which was the most reasonable explanation of why he hasn't been attending his classes (apart from Potions, in which they shared the class) and had been missing around the castle halls from time to time.

Unlike Draco, Halia was not bounded by the burden of serving the Dark Lord. She was long disowned, but there was an urge inside her to accept her father's offer-- not because she wanted her family back, but because she wanted to help Draco. She was willing to do anything for the platinum-haired Slytherin, even if it means offering her alliance to the most vilesome wizard of all time.

Whenever she wanted to write back to her mother, Halia would remember what Draco told her when they first met after a long time.

"I have no choice but to do this, but you do. Don't agree to it. You've already gotten used to living fine without them, why would you want them back now?"

Halia crumbled Draco's note in her hand, and shoved it inside her Ravenclaw robes. She hated the helpless feeling growing inside her. He was always the one who protected her, but why couldn't she do the same? Why does he always have to suffer for the sake of others?

With these thoughts in mind, she was no longer in the festive mood to enjoy sweets from Hogsmeade. Halia went back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, to change into something much more comfortable than the uniform.

✧✧✧

Halia went to Three Broomsticks, which was filled with many familiar faces-- even the famous Harry Potter, who sat away from the crowd. Halia walked to the bartender, "I'll take a Firewhiskey." She said, placing her payment on the counter.

"We don't serve liquors to those not yet of age." Madam Rosmerta told her, pushing her payment back.

"I'm of age." Halia told her, "I turned 17 in October." It was an obvious lie, but she wasn't a frequent customer in the inn. Madam Rosmerta let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Hargreeves, yes?" She asked, but Halia did not respond, "You may not be a familiar face 'round my inn, but you're a known person-- all you filthy, rich purebloods are. I know you're not of age, nor are you born in October. Order something else or get out."

Halia took her gallons back, and walked away. She wanted to drink, but she had emptied the flask of Firewhiskey she stole from the Malfoy Manor, and had to take her chances in the nearest, accessible place possible.