‹ Prequel: The Dark Witch
The Return of the Dark Witch
Sinclair
P.O.V – Draco Malfoy
“See you around, Potter…or not.” I whispered harshly, making sure that I tread on his fingers before leaving the compartment.
Stupid git had it coming to him. I thought fiercely, as I bumped headlong into a girl. The force of the collision causing both of us to stumble onto the floor, my body sprawling out on top of hers.
“What are you are doing! Get off of me!”
“What the bloody hell!” We both yelled at the same time, as she pushed at my shoulders, while I scrambled to get off of her. Adjusting my robes under her fierce gaze,
“You didn’t answer me,” She snapped, standing up, her long black hair a tangled mess, “What. The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You. Were. Doing?” She asked, slowly, as if she were struggling to contain herself, her hands coming to rest firmly on her hips.
I raised an eyebrow, “What I was doing?” I scoffed, “You’re the one who came barreling down the hallway. All I was doing was exiting my compartment.”
She frowned, quirking her lips at me, before turning slightly away from me to straighten her hair. I almost could have sworn I saw a flicker of a flame on one of her fingertips, before it suddenly vanished like it was never there.
I frowned at her, licking my lips slightly as I did so, tilting my head. I don’t remember seeing her before, anywhere. Which doesn’t make sense. She looks like a sixth year after all. A very pretty, though with poor disposition, sixth year girl at that. Her robes were plain of any house identification as well, “Who are you anyway?” I asked curiously, ensuring that I added a slight bored tone to my voice as well. She could be a mudblood after all.
She gave me another slightly ugly look, releasing her hair, before walking away from me down the hall, “Becky Sinclair.” She called out suddenly.
My frown deepened. I’ve never heard of that surname before…
Definitely mudblood potential…
But I couldn’t help it, my curiosity was still peaked, and the lack of any house colors on her robes may be the sign of some sort of transfer student. Hogwarts gets them every so often.
I swallowed hard, she was a ways away from me now, almost nearing the front of the train.
If she was a transfer student, she wouldn’t know who I was…
The thought ran across my brain briefly, causing my eyes to widen.
She wouldn’t know what a disgrace I had become. Even if she was a cow.
Without another thought, I ran after her, and, after a few moments, reached her, panting, just as she neared the steps of the train.
I grasped her arm, “Don’t you want to know who I am?” I asked, out of breath.
She glared at me, wrenching herself from my grasp as she continued down the steps, “Not really.” Replied Becky, jumping onto the ground below, as I followed, “I’ve never been particularly fond of knowing the names of my attackers…”
I opened my mouth to respond, as she turned to look at me, a steady glare still fixed on her face, “Unless you would like me to report you?” She smirked, stepping close to me, “So tell me,” She began in an oddly chipper voice, “What’s your name? Year? House?”
I looked at her quizzically for a moment before stepping back from her, meeting her glare with one of my own, before replying smartly, “Draco Malfoy, sixth year, Slytherin.” Her eyes widened slightly, I stepped towards her, frowning, “Speaking of which,” I began, before continuing sarcastically, “What’s your year? House?” I stepped back, obviously looking her over, “I’ve never seen you before.” I drawled, smirking, “And, trust me, I would have remembered you.”
I folded my arms comfortably over my chest, watching as she looked away. I could tell that her face had turned beet red, even in this dim light. When, suddenly, she was in front of me, and with a look of pure anger on her face, slapped me hard across the cheek. Turned, and stormed off.
I raised my hand to my face, frozen. She actually hit me. That girl, Becky Sinclair, actually hit me.
My gaze darkened, as I stared after her retreating form.
No one, I repeat, no one, hits a Malfoy and walks away. Even with the state our name stands in now. I thought angrily. Releasing my throbbing cheek, before storming after her.
Who does this girl think she is? Matter of fact, who is she really, anyway? She still hasn’t said.
Might have if you’d been a bit nicer, said a voice in the back of my mind. I slapped it away. What did that voice know anyway? It had been the one causing me sleep loss for months now…
Instinctively, I clutched my left arm, at that thought. Before arriving at the carriages, or make that, sole carriage. The other ones seemed to have left already.
Bile rose in my throat, as I caught sight of fleshless reptilian horses in between the carriage shafts, thestrals. This was the first time I had ever seen them.
The Dark Lord had killed a fellow death eater the night of my initiation.
I swallowed, shaking slightly, as I made my way forward to see Becky standing a few yards away, in front of the thestrals. A twisted look on her face, a mixture of pain and awe combined. She stood there for a moment, as if transfixed, before crumbling into a heap on the ground.
I raised my eyebrows, my eyes widening in shock, as I rushed over to her still form.
As far as my knowledge goes, Thestrals don’t render people unconscious, at least, not by looking at them.
I slid to the ground, pulling her top half onto my lap, while reaching for her pulse.
Still beating.
But then again, maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Maybe she just fainted at the sight of them. She wouldn’t be the first person. Unlike me, I thought confidently, looking up the creatures for a moment. Bile once again rising in my throat, causing me to gulp and look back down at Becky’s unconscious face, I would never faint.
I tilted my head, at her, I could feel my expression softening. She really was quite beautiful, and with her eyes close, slightly familiar as well…
I brushed one my hands against her soft cheek, letting it linger for a moment, before frowning, and giving, the same cheek, a light slap. After all, I am a Malfoy. Revenge is in our nature.
Slowly, Becky began to open her eyes. An unfocused look about them, as she stared at me, “Did you just slap me?” She asked weakly, pulling herself up, away from me.
I nodded, she glared in response.
I shrugged, “You hit me first.” I drawled, getting up and striding past her, towards the carriage, “If you’re done fainting now, I suggest you get into the carriage.” I paused, opening the coach door and stepping inside, “Or at least move, unless you want to get trampled, as I do intend to get to the school, before the end of the feast.”
A moment later, Becky joined me in the carriage.
“See you around, Potter…or not.” I whispered harshly, making sure that I tread on his fingers before leaving the compartment.
Stupid git had it coming to him. I thought fiercely, as I bumped headlong into a girl. The force of the collision causing both of us to stumble onto the floor, my body sprawling out on top of hers.
“What are you are doing! Get off of me!”
“What the bloody hell!” We both yelled at the same time, as she pushed at my shoulders, while I scrambled to get off of her. Adjusting my robes under her fierce gaze,
“You didn’t answer me,” She snapped, standing up, her long black hair a tangled mess, “What. The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You. Were. Doing?” She asked, slowly, as if she were struggling to contain herself, her hands coming to rest firmly on her hips.
I raised an eyebrow, “What I was doing?” I scoffed, “You’re the one who came barreling down the hallway. All I was doing was exiting my compartment.”
She frowned, quirking her lips at me, before turning slightly away from me to straighten her hair. I almost could have sworn I saw a flicker of a flame on one of her fingertips, before it suddenly vanished like it was never there.
I frowned at her, licking my lips slightly as I did so, tilting my head. I don’t remember seeing her before, anywhere. Which doesn’t make sense. She looks like a sixth year after all. A very pretty, though with poor disposition, sixth year girl at that. Her robes were plain of any house identification as well, “Who are you anyway?” I asked curiously, ensuring that I added a slight bored tone to my voice as well. She could be a mudblood after all.
She gave me another slightly ugly look, releasing her hair, before walking away from me down the hall, “Becky Sinclair.” She called out suddenly.
My frown deepened. I’ve never heard of that surname before…
Definitely mudblood potential…
But I couldn’t help it, my curiosity was still peaked, and the lack of any house colors on her robes may be the sign of some sort of transfer student. Hogwarts gets them every so often.
I swallowed hard, she was a ways away from me now, almost nearing the front of the train.
If she was a transfer student, she wouldn’t know who I was…
The thought ran across my brain briefly, causing my eyes to widen.
She wouldn’t know what a disgrace I had become. Even if she was a cow.
Without another thought, I ran after her, and, after a few moments, reached her, panting, just as she neared the steps of the train.
I grasped her arm, “Don’t you want to know who I am?” I asked, out of breath.
She glared at me, wrenching herself from my grasp as she continued down the steps, “Not really.” Replied Becky, jumping onto the ground below, as I followed, “I’ve never been particularly fond of knowing the names of my attackers…”
I opened my mouth to respond, as she turned to look at me, a steady glare still fixed on her face, “Unless you would like me to report you?” She smirked, stepping close to me, “So tell me,” She began in an oddly chipper voice, “What’s your name? Year? House?”
I looked at her quizzically for a moment before stepping back from her, meeting her glare with one of my own, before replying smartly, “Draco Malfoy, sixth year, Slytherin.” Her eyes widened slightly, I stepped towards her, frowning, “Speaking of which,” I began, before continuing sarcastically, “What’s your year? House?” I stepped back, obviously looking her over, “I’ve never seen you before.” I drawled, smirking, “And, trust me, I would have remembered you.”
I folded my arms comfortably over my chest, watching as she looked away. I could tell that her face had turned beet red, even in this dim light. When, suddenly, she was in front of me, and with a look of pure anger on her face, slapped me hard across the cheek. Turned, and stormed off.
I raised my hand to my face, frozen. She actually hit me. That girl, Becky Sinclair, actually hit me.
My gaze darkened, as I stared after her retreating form.
No one, I repeat, no one, hits a Malfoy and walks away. Even with the state our name stands in now. I thought angrily. Releasing my throbbing cheek, before storming after her.
Who does this girl think she is? Matter of fact, who is she really, anyway? She still hasn’t said.
Might have if you’d been a bit nicer, said a voice in the back of my mind. I slapped it away. What did that voice know anyway? It had been the one causing me sleep loss for months now…
Instinctively, I clutched my left arm, at that thought. Before arriving at the carriages, or make that, sole carriage. The other ones seemed to have left already.
Bile rose in my throat, as I caught sight of fleshless reptilian horses in between the carriage shafts, thestrals. This was the first time I had ever seen them.
The Dark Lord had killed a fellow death eater the night of my initiation.
I swallowed, shaking slightly, as I made my way forward to see Becky standing a few yards away, in front of the thestrals. A twisted look on her face, a mixture of pain and awe combined. She stood there for a moment, as if transfixed, before crumbling into a heap on the ground.
I raised my eyebrows, my eyes widening in shock, as I rushed over to her still form.
As far as my knowledge goes, Thestrals don’t render people unconscious, at least, not by looking at them.
I slid to the ground, pulling her top half onto my lap, while reaching for her pulse.
Still beating.
But then again, maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Maybe she just fainted at the sight of them. She wouldn’t be the first person. Unlike me, I thought confidently, looking up the creatures for a moment. Bile once again rising in my throat, causing me to gulp and look back down at Becky’s unconscious face, I would never faint.
I tilted my head, at her, I could feel my expression softening. She really was quite beautiful, and with her eyes close, slightly familiar as well…
I brushed one my hands against her soft cheek, letting it linger for a moment, before frowning, and giving, the same cheek, a light slap. After all, I am a Malfoy. Revenge is in our nature.
Slowly, Becky began to open her eyes. An unfocused look about them, as she stared at me, “Did you just slap me?” She asked weakly, pulling herself up, away from me.
I nodded, she glared in response.
I shrugged, “You hit me first.” I drawled, getting up and striding past her, towards the carriage, “If you’re done fainting now, I suggest you get into the carriage.” I paused, opening the coach door and stepping inside, “Or at least move, unless you want to get trampled, as I do intend to get to the school, before the end of the feast.”
A moment later, Becky joined me in the carriage.