Shake the Glitter

Malfoy smirked to himself, hearing the familiar shrill of his mother's owl somewhere in the distance. He peered down his nose at the disheveled girl before him. She was shaking, visibly, and had several cuts and bruises coloring her body. "It's too late for you, now, Parkinson." He bent down on his knee, holding his wand in his left hand, and prodded it to her forehead. "When everyone finds out what you did, you'll be dead. Maybe I'll even kill you myself."

Pansy coughed, wiping her sleeve on her mouth. Her mouth tasted of salt and copper. "You w-won't."

"Won't I?" A cruel laugh bubbled in his throat. His pale eyes sparkled with a hint of malice. "Don't presume to know what I'm capable of, Parkinson."

"He'll kill you before you c-can do anything to me," Pansy drawled, "Protecting a traitor."

"She's not a traitor,"

"She i-is now."

Malfoy growled, balling his hands up in fists. He began to advance on her, again. Yearning to wring her thick neck until all signs of life left her eyes. The shrill sound filled his ears again before he could do so, bringing him back to his proper mind. Muttering a quick silencing charm, he darted out of the room, towards the Astronomy Tower.

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"Harry," Ron mumbled, closing the book he'd been looking over. "If Voldemort is responsible for Ashley's current predicament, won't this cause an uproar?"

"What?"

"You know, he obviously wanted it done for a reason. And, if Malfoy can be trusted and actually knows something and reverses it... Then, won't he be, well, pissed?"

"We'll deal with it when it comes, Ronald." Hermione interrupted, physically drained.

Harry nodded. "She's right, Ron. We have to focus on Ashley right now."

"You're not even the least bit worried?"

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Who knows what caused him to do such a thing to her. He must have his motives, albeit wrong motives. But, right now, I'd rather bring Ashley back to us than leave her here and wander off and get ourselves tangled up in Merlin knows what."

Ron gave a curt nod, opening his book back up and returned to skimming through the texts. He couldn't help but wonder, though. If Voldemort wanted Ashley dead, or paralyzed, then wouldn't he be furious to learn that he's failed? And, wouldn't it just begin something no one would ever dream of imagining?

They had to be careful, now.

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Malfoy snatched the parchment from the owls foot, running his hand down the owl's back and sending it back on it's way. He wouldn't risk sending a letter back home. Not when his father or He could happen upon it.

"Merlin," Malfoy mumbled, re-reading the letter. There must be some mistake. Voldemort would never attack the school, not when some that are loyal to him are still present here.

He clutched the note in his hand and sprinted off toward the Hospital Wing. He had to get to Ashley and reverse this curse, so he could keep her safe.