six.

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- O L I V I A -

I stood with Fred and George as we watched the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons making their departures, everyone waving and cheering. After several days had passed, the spirits had slowly begun to lift. The night of the final task seemed to be a distant nightmare, blocked out of our memories for our own good.

"What a year," George said thoughtfully beside me.

I scoffed, "I'll say. Every year I think that Hogwarts couldn't get more eventful than the last, but it never fails to surprise me."

They chuckled, nodded in agreement.

Somewhere behind me, I heard my name. When I turned to see who it was, I saw Draco standing just a few feet away. "Can I talk to you really quick?" he asked.

I smiled slightly, "of course."

As I started to walk away, following him to somewhere more private, Fred whispered, "be careful."

I followed Draco back into the entrance hall and down a dark and quiet corridor. He stopped and turned back to face me when he deemed we were far enough away from everybody.

"What's up?" I asked, trying hard not to remember the last time we talked.

He looked down at me and I saw a look in his eyes that I had never seen before. He looked strained and exhausted, like he hadn't slept in a week. "Olivia, I'm scared," he whimpered. "I don't want to go home. I don't want You-Know-Who to be back." His voice was shaking and his lower lip quivered.

"Draco, sweetheart," I gasped, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight. I heard him stifle a sob into my shoulder. I had spent so long trying to forget about him that I never thought of how he might be feeling about Voldemort's return. I had to experience my greatest fear this year, my fear of my identity. And now, he was facing his. He wouldn't openly admit it, but I knew that he was terrified of his father. Seeing how much this predicament scared him, and seeing how pressured he felt to follow orders, I truly hurt for him. I had never seen the snobby, arrogant Malfoy look so helpless.

He started to pull away. I caressed his cheek, desperate to comfort him. "I never thought this would actually happen. My father always spoke of his return, but I didn't believe it," he said sadly.

I nodded, understanding. I had overheard Ms. Vance and the rest of the Order members speaking of the possibility, but I dismissed it as outlandish paranoia. Now it was here. It was happening. "Maybe it isn't," I said hopefully. "We don't know anything for sure. All that we have is Harry's word."

Draco looked surprised. "But you're friends with Harry. Do you not believe him?"

"I do believe him, but there's a piece of me that's skeptical. There isn't any proof."

He didn't look so sure. "I hope so." In the dark of the corridor, I could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. Voldemort's return was already tormenting him and he hadn't even left the school yet. "I keep having this dream," he said, breaking our eye contact and looking down at his arm. "I have his mark on me. What if that's the future? What if that is what I become?"

I didn't know what to say to him. Of course that wasn't what I wanted to happen, but escaping the vice grip that his father had on his life seemed nearly impossible. And if he somehow managed to, he would certainly be on Voldemort's bad side. Instead of speaking, I pressed a gentle kiss into his cheek. "That isn't who you are. Draco, you aren't evil. It isn't your fault that you were raised by a man who's only concern is power and how to get more of it."

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