Petals of Oleander

Chapter Five: Woodchipper

As I packed my things, I couldn't help but dread the upcoming holiday. Since the altercation in Hagrid's Cabin, I've refused to be in the same vicinity as any of the people I once called my family. I had even taken to eating my meals in the common room, even though none of them had approached me even before they hated me. I wanted to ask my dad if we could stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and have Poppa come here, or maybe we could rent a room in Hogsmeade or somewhere, and do Christmas just the three of us, like old times. But I knew I couldn't ask for that without telling him what had happened. It's not that I wanted to keep it from him, I just knew I'd have a breakdown if I tried to recount the events, and I was honestly a little bit afraid he'd agree with them. 

I dragged my trunk into the common room and heard a familiar voice berating someone in the corridor. Great, just what I needed, an appearance from Mr. Malfoy himself. I took a deep breath and decided to walk past rather than wait until he left. Because at the end of the day, nothing he could say to me would be worse than what had been echoing in my own mind for the last month. 

"Elle, hey." He said a lot more gently than I had expected after I walked past. I said nothing. I didn't have the energy. 

"Elowen wait," He left his group and walked over, putting his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. "Are you okay? I haven't seen you around as much lately and you seem sort of - er, withdrawn." 

Did I hear that correctly? Was Draconis Lucius Alexander Malfoy really the first person to notice something was wrong, and ask me about it? Now that all the Gryffindors in my life were gone, I had grown accustomed to the Slytherin love language, which was "We'll talk about it when you want to talk about it, but I'm sure as hell not bringing it up." and while I did enjoy taking my time to process things on my own and have everything be normal with my friends, and no one coddling me or prodding for information, I did miss the feeling of people caring outwardly, rather than inwardly. 

I couldn't find the words to express how much that conversation had meant to me, that he had taken a moment to ask, and that he had been noticing me this whole time despite my best attempts at being invisible. I didn't know what to do, so I just hugged him. 

"Thank you." I whispered, squeezing my arms around his shoulders. 

"Alright, that's enough of that now." He whispered back, letting go of me. I pulled away and he gave me an awkward nod. Sweet as this whole thing was, he was still Draco, and that was the most comforting part of it. 

DRACO'S POV

Something was seriously wrong with Elowen, and I don't know how, but I know it's because of those damn Weasleys. 

When I first met her, I thought it was a shame that a person of such noble blood should be associating with low-lives like them, but there was something to be said about her being sorted into Slytherin with me, and I found it fascinating to watch her come into her own. 

She was probably the second best in our house, after me. She was wicked smart, and borderline sociopathically self-sufficient. She excelled in every subject, and had an impressive social life as well. My father spoke often of the shameful downfall of the Noble House of Black, but I think she very well could be the savior of the bloodline. Besides, it would be a crime for her not to pass down her beauty. Speaking from a scientific perspective. 

For these reasons, and these reasons only, it was very difficult for me to watch her retreat into herself. Where she was once assertive and confident, she now kept all that brilliance between her and her parchment. I kept waiting for a chance to ask her to explain herself, but she was hiding away during all the free time we had, and secluded herself to only her closest friends in the corridors and during classes. 

Luckily, though, the moment finally came. At first, she was just a blur of all black from her hair to her shoes, but then I smelled flowers, dust, vanilla, and rain and realized it was her. Sort of weird, actually, she always smelled like rain, even when there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I said her name but she didn't hear me, so I approached. 

"Elowen, wait" I said. My hand was on her shoulder, how did it get there? "Are you okay, you look a mess and you're hiding away like a freak." I said. 

And then she hugged me, which was strange. She didn't feel warm, it was like she was made of stone. I'm pretty sure I felt a tear drop on my shoulder as well, which made me want to throw a Weasley into a wood-chipper. Someone like her should never cry. 

She thanked me politely and walked away, rolling her trunk behind her. 

"Crabbe, Goyle," I ordered "Where might I find a Weasley?" 

"Er, the Gryffindor common room? They're likely packing their things for Christmas." Goyle answered. 

We walked there straight away, and decided to stake it out until at least one ginger emerged. This gave me enough time to plot my next move. If these Weasleys keep interfering with Elowen's success, they could taint the Slytherin reputation, and I would not stand for it, but my father taught me that it's best to approach these situations gently, because people are not as easily persuaded when defensive. Finally, Ron and Potter came out from the portrait. 

"Excuse me lads," I said, strong start. "Might I have a word?" 

"Piss off, Malfoy." Ron called out. This left me with no choice, I had to manipulate. 

"Alright then, I'll just ask Elowen myself why she's skipping meals, missing classes, and just generally wallowing in what appears to be self-pity." I leaned nonchalantly against the wall. 

"What do you mean wallowing?" Potter turned back toward me. Bingo. 

"Well," I continued "as one of her closest friends, and her confident, I couldn't help but notice the direct correlation between the deepening eyebags under her recently tearful eyes, and the last time she hung around the lot of you." I shrugged innocently. 

"Well," Ron mocked "I personally can't help but notice the direct correlation between her new bitchy personality along with the fact that she shut out everyone who used to really care about her, and the moment she became friends with you, Malfoy, so like I said, piss off"

"Oh, well in that case, maybe you'll be happy to know, since you'll be spending the holiday with her, that whatever half-witted thing one of you must have said to her worked very well. If your plan is to break her, you'll have it done by the New Year, I've no doubt. Congratulations lads! And merry Christmas." 

Mic. Drop.