Her hands were shaking… so was the core of her. Tenderly she held the porcelain of the sink in both hands, leaning her weight on it as she focused on breathing. She could hear her heart in her head. Her eyes found her reflection in the mirror, the face of a pretty blond girl with cold, judgmental eyes… the face that looked back was a frightened girl. A weak girl. “You will do what we ask… or your parents will be the price you pay, Draconia.” She closed her eyes, hands coming up as she pursed her lips, breathing carefully, finding purchase against her ears as she shook her head, strands of wet blond hair bobbing as she did. The restroom was quiet this time of the night. The voice had come from her memory; cold, sleek and without pity. His voice. She put her hands on either side of the sink again, bracing against it as if it were her anchor. She looked again at her reflection in the mirror, trying to fix her face so that the fear wasn’t on it. She was a Malfoy, she shouldn’t be afraid. The old man had opened up the Wizarding world to subversives… commoners. It threatened everything. Its what her Father always said, by diluting magic, you diminished the world. That’s what the Dark Lord would fix. That’s what he’d said. So why couldn’t she believe him now? “Come on… you coward.” She muttered under her breath, angry at the girl in the mirror. Angry at her weakness, her lack of resolve. “Time to grow up.” She heard the tremble in the sound of her voice, and clumsily grasped one of the faucet knobs, turning until she heard the water run. She cupped her hands and let the water pool before she splashed her face for the third time that night. When was the last time she’d slept? It had gotten difficult counting the hours. She felt spread thin, her body ached. There was no time, between her own secret meetings mandated by Him, managing Inquisitorial duties and her own classes, along with trying to figure out what Harry had been up to in the Room of Requirement… Harry. Her chin dripped as she felt her shoulders sag, suddenly the weight of sleepness nights pressing in around her. She saw his face in the mirror, and recalled the complicated nature of their relationship. Her chest hurt from summoning up the image through the keyhole of Cho and him… kissing. She let out a growl that turned into a scream, then her eyes were burning as the tears began and wouldn’t cease. She’d thought it had meant something to him. Their dance, the talk on the balcony. Thought that they were something, before it all went to hell. Before He returned. Before her father went to prison… before Sirius black died. She had thought there was something there before the Tri-Wizard Tournament, something between them beyond bickering, snide comments and mutual disdain. She tried to close her eyes but the sobbing continued as she imagined the scent of painted pinewood on a train, candy wrappers on the floor and her hand held out in an offer of friendship. His look then tore through her. Is that what you think of me? It had rankled her, every moment he would look at her as if she were some lowborn slag. After her witty repartee or incisive notation of situational ridiculousness. It had gotten to a point she’d do it on purpose just to… see that look. The look nobody else gave her out of fear of her status. She felt real when he looked at her like that. It was twisted, she knew… she wasn’t some silly girl. She knew he’d disliked her. But there were… moments. Alone, between them, when he’d looked at her a different way. When she’d been her better self. When she might have perhaps deserved reconsideration. Through blurry vision, she looked out and again at the image in the mirror. Did she deserve it now? No… not after all she’d done. She could see him standing there- “Malfoy,” suddenly rang out, filling the actual space of the restroom. Every nerve of hers fired. That wasn’t her imagining it. His voice was angry. She’d heard him angry often enough to know, but there was an edge to it she was unfamiliar with… something different this time. “I know what you did, Malfoy. You hexed her, didn’t you?” He held his wand in his hands, his jaw set in a determined fashion. She spun suddenly, eyes still wet as her crying had stopped suddenly on his appearance. His face wore disgust… no, this was worse. He looked both hurt and disgusted with her. She felt the floor dropping out from her stomach, felt like she was falling as all the mean, rotten, dirty things she’d done over the years all piled on top. Those eyes reminded her of how he saw her. Maybe how she deserved to be seen. She raised her wand and flicked her wrist, Harry dodged out of the way as a lamp exploded. She couldn’t bear those eyes, or the thought she deserved them. Suddenly he was back, ducking low as she cast a deflecting blow, parrying his Levicorpus spell as she dove next to the stalls. “STOP! STOP FIGHTING!” Myrtle called out as she materialized out of the stall, “You’ll hurt each other!” Draconia ignored the ghost as she scrambled, Harry’s spell blowing one of the stall doors off as she crawled back into the open tiled area near the sinks. She pulled herself up and moved to the side as another flick of his wrist caused one of the sinks to shatter and water to begin spraying everywhere. She found her footing, facing him and those eyes. He held his wand pointed at her, she at him… She recalled his eyes at the Yule ball and seeing warmth and kindness there she hadn't expected. He had held her so delicately, as if he was afraid she’d break. She, Draconia Malfoy. The tears came again as everything blurred. She saw him through the distortion relax, lower his wand and step forward, “Malfoy… please, let me help you,” Help her? Help her what? Kill the headmaster? Help her murder her parents for failing? She wished there was another way, another path through this byzantine maze He had put her in. Another moment where she could see that kindness in his eyes. He was almost close enough to reach out and touch. She’d reach for him, maybe- maybe this time… No. She couldn’t let him do this, not after the mark, not after what she’d done. He was always trying to be so helpful. “STAY AWAY!” She slapped his hand away, bringing her own to bear, “CRUCI-" She paused, her wand shaking as it pointed at him. She knew her heart wasn’t in it. Aunt Bellatrix had said she’d need to really mean it… and she couldn’t. Not against Harry. The next words echoed in her ears as he yelled, “SECTUM SEMPRA!” and for a moment the world seemed to bleed of all color, fading to a slow sepia as she felt criss cross tingles of magic alighting in vertical and horizontal lines all across her body… and then she felt the force of the spell land and send her through the air, crashing into the mirror she’d been staring at for the better part of an hour, shattering it on impact. Her head was reeling as she was on the floor, her senses wrung out like a wash towel as the ceiling was spinning. She brought her arm up and looked, seeing bloody gashes welling with red rivulets down her arm. She let it fall to the wet bathroom tile with a splash. “H..arry…” she choked out, feeling the weight of all her mistakes weighing on her, dragging her down into a cold darkness somewhere. “you...hate me this much…” “DRACONIA!” She felt something pulling at her, a warmth against her wet clothes. She tried to smile, a smile she really meant, rasping out “...don’t be so sad…” It’s what she had deserved for all the years of pain and torment. For his parents… for Sirius, for the Hex and all the rest. Soon, there’d be no more Draconia to worry over. And wouldn’t that be best? #Malfoid #HarryPotter