The Untold Story Of Draco Malfoy

Chapter 5

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SKYLERS P.O.V.

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I suddenly became aware of my body. I felt like I've been asleep for ages. I shut my eyes tighter and shifted around my bed. I opened my eyes a little. The colour green was the first thing I saw. It took me a while to realise that my dorm was not painted green. Then where was I?

I jerked up quickly and jumped out of my bed, looking for my wand. I couldn't find it. I heard someone chuckle. Malfoy.

"I believe you were looking for this?" He smirked, holding my wand. He was sitting on the couch, where I was sleeping just a few seconds ago, and I realised that my pillow was, in fact, his lap.

I wanted to rip out his throat. Woah, wait a second. Where did I get this idea from? I wasn't a violent person usually. For some reason, my brain was wired to be angry at him. My muscles were all tensed up and sore, as if I had just came from a fight. I mentally shook myself.

I looked around, realising that I was in the Slytherin common room. The couches were black leather, unlike the Gryffindor's ones, which were red and cozy. The walls were painted green, and a silver snake was painted on the ceiling. Harry's Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map were lying on the couch opposite the one I just jumped out from.

Now I remembered, I was trying to spy on Malfoy for Harry. But how did I end up in here?

Malfoy waited silently as frantically thought.

"What am I doing here, and why was I sleeping on your lap?" I asked, strained, I felt uncomfortable being in the common room of our sworn enemies.

"Easy there Taylor, I didn't kidnap you or anything. On the way to the Quidditch match, I forgot something in my dorm. And on my way down, I found you unconscious on the floor, with that mangy old parchment and that weird cloth next to you. So, being the amazing person that I am, I brought you in here," Malfoy leered.

Thank God he didn't recognise the Cloak or the Map, I thought feverently. But I was unconscious? I didn't remember that. I frowned. I didn't remember anything at all. The last thing I remembered was leaving the Gryffindor common room, and waking up not a a minute ago. I felt like there was a brick wall closing up my memory for that period. I shook my head. I must have hit my head or something.

"What time is it?" I asked hoarsely, wondering why the common room was so empty.

"It's 12 noon, and the second half of the Quidditch match began half an hour ago," he said lazily.

I strained my ears, also hearing the cheers and the booming voice of the megaphone in the distance.

"Why did you do it?" I asked suddenly.

"What?" Malfoy snapped out, like he didn't believe what I was saying, suddenly anxious.

"Why did you carry me back here and stay with me? Why did you help me at all? You're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor," I urged.

I looked at him closely, judging his reaction. I saw something flash in his eyes. Regret? No, it can't be, there was nothing he could regret at the moment, unless he regretted helping me. I zoomed out my focus to his entire face, and only then I realised how bad he looked. He had bags under his eyes, his eyes were red and his cheeks dirty. Has something bad happened when I was out?

"Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean that I'm heartless," he said, softly, his eyes guarded. He handed me back my wand quickly, not wanting to touch it for long, as if it was hot. I took it gladly, at least there was one familiar thing in this room.

"I'll just.... go," I muttered loudly, grabbing the Map and the Cloak and making my way to the exit. "Thanks," I said, before I left.

"See you around Taylor," Malfoy called, sneering.









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DRACOS P.O.V.

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I watched her as she slept. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, so vulnerable. For me to be near her, I had to protect her. She shifted slightly in her sleep, and smiled. I wanted to know what she was dreaming about. Or maybe I didn't, I wasn't sure.

When she woke up, I watched her as she frowned, trying to remember the details that I stole from her. I heard myself lying, watching her closely, looking for any signs that my charm didn't work. Part of me, the idiotic part, hoped that the charm didn't work. The other part of me, the more logical side, knew that if there was any chance for Skyler to survive the way she was, or to survive at all, that it better have worked. As I watched her, it became apparent that my charm ability was better than I expected.

My eyes followed her as she left, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I almost blew it. When she asked me why I did it, I thought she was speaking about the events that took place not one hour ago.

I felt guilty for lying to her. I felt horrible when I gave her back her wand, after stealing her memories with it. I felt even worst for stealing something that wasn't mine.

I craved to run after her, and to explain everything. I wanted to beg her for her forgiveness. I wanted her to slap me, kick me, strangle me or do whatever she thought I deserved.

I took a small vial out of my pocket, containing glowing silver strands that floated inside the small space. This, her memory, was the difference between her life and death, and mine.

I stared at the vial. Was this really necessary? I asked myself. Was it really that big? I could just give her her memory back, and make her promise not to tell anyone. I craved to see her face, after she remembered that I told her I loved her.

No, Skyler was too good of a person to keep this particular secret a secret. And if she warned Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would come after her, which would end badly, whatever she chose.

NO!! I thought fiercely. I don't care what would happen. She will never get this memory back, not if it meant that she had to get branded with the Dark Mark and obey His orders, watching Him threaten to kill her if she failed or, if she chose, death. I couldn't let her decide either to betray everyone she loves, or die, especially when I knew what she most likely would pick. Like I told you, loyal.

I just had to suck it up, and move on.

I stuffed the vial back in my pocket, my heart beating like mad.








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SKYLERS P.O.V.

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I stepped out of the longest shower I've ever had. As I was changing, I suddenly got the strangest feeling ever. Longing? I was longing to go back to the Slytherin common room, longing for Malfoy's lap.

Ok, I thought to myself. This is getting really weird. Since when did I long for Malfoy's LAP? I shuddered at the thought. Someone must have messed with my head while I was unconscious or something. Thank God Malfoy found me before more damage was inflicted to my already-strange brain.

As I opened the door of my dorm, I heard loud noises and cheers coming from the common room. Gryffindor must have won the match, and they were celebrating. If the Gryffindors were partying this hard, I hated to see what the Slytherins were doing. Probably just sulk about losing.

Stop thinking about the Slytherins.

No, stop thinking about Malfoy.

I pressed my fingers on my temples, trying to banish any thought that strays anywhere near him.

Ever since I opened my eyes in the Slytherin common room, I thought about him. I have no idea why, and my memory doesn't give me any source to how or when I began to feel this way. Was it just gratitude I felt towards the person who helped me? Or something else? I muttered darkly as i made my way to the common room.







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The party was in full swing when I entered the common room. Fred or George Weasley ( I can never tell them apart) handed me a ButterBeer, which I accepted gratefully.

I looked around the room, watching out for any signs of Harry. I still wasn't sure if I should tell him the truth about what happened, or just lie.

I noticed that the room had gone mysteriously quite, and that everyone was looking at a certain direction. Being short, I had to push my way up slightly to see what everyone was gawking at.

I nearly died.

Ron and Lavender were in a tight embrace, snogging right in the middle of the common room. I cursed Ron silently.

I glanced around, wondering if anyone else was as uncomfortable as i was. Instead, I was a bushy brown head storm out of the common room.

"Hermione," I muttered, rushing after her, cursing Ron again.








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I found her a short while later, in one of the classrooms.

"Oh hello Skyler," Hermione sniffled, hastily wiping her eyes and cheeks.

"Hey Hermione," I said, not sure if I should cheer her up or empathise with her. I offered her my ButterBeer mug, or what's left of it. She took it gratefully and took a sip.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations," she stated stiffly.

"Look Hermione, if this is upsetting you so much, then why don't you just tell him?" I asked, hoping my advice was helpful.

"I'm not upset," she replied.

"Right, because crying is the way people show happiness these days," I said playfully.

Hermione smiled weakly.

"I know you like him," I urged.

"I know you do, and while we are on the topic, I know you like him too," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"Who? RON?" I asked, bewildered.

"No, Malfoy," Hermione said patiently.

There was a knock on my door, interrupting my reply, and Harry walked in.

"Hey Hermione. Hey Skyler, I was wondering if you have any-" Harry began.

"Not now Harry," I groaned.

"But-"

"Not know!!" I urged, glancing back at Hermione pointedly. Harry finally noticed Hermione's red eyes and wet cheeks.

"Oh right, see you later!" Harry left rather hastily.

Good, now I needed to straighten out what Hermione just told me. And I needed more time to think of what to tell Harry.

"What do you mean, I like Malfoy?" I asked, hoping to urge Hermione to tell me more.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Skyler, I see the way you look at him, you obviously like him. I don't particularly like it, but I have noticed it. Don't worry, I have been watching you very closely, so I doubt anyone else knows."

Ok.

Wait.

My feelings tell me that I like Malfoy, with the whole longing for his lap thingy.

And now Hermione is telling me that I like him too.

If that's true, then why don't I have any memory what-so-ever of the time that I realised I liked him?

I had a feeling that the answer lies behind the brick wall.