Little Memories

Draco drew back from Charlotte like an electric shock had coursed through him. He stared at her in bewilderment of what she had said, in complete disbelief of what she meant. She stared back at him for a moment before looking back down to the blankets on the bed.

“Wh-What do you mean you gave it to him?” Draco asked, but knew that Charlotte had said all she needed to. He knew that she no longer wanted to be on his side of things, on the obviously wrong side of the war. By giving Harry Potter that locket, he knew that she must know something more about it, because she wouldn’t willingly give away something of little value in exchange for her own life. The more Draco thought about it, in the quiet, warm guest bedroom that was dimly lit by a few candles, the more an uncontrollable rage bubbled with in him.

“You do realize how stupid that was,” Draco spat venomously, causing Charlotte’s eyes to flick over to his as she stared up at him wordlessly. “You’re going to die because of this. He’s going to kill you as soon as he realizes the necklace is gone.” Angry tears flooded Draco’s eyes as he stared at her and she stared back at him. He was angry because he had just gotten her back and he knew that he would never be able to get her back again if she was killed. He was angry with Harry Potter, because he should have just died when he was a baby and showed no opposition to Lord Voldemort. He was angry with Lord Voldemort for giving her the necklace in the first place. But most of all, he was angry with her for choosing sides and choosing death.

“You’re so stupid, Charlotte,” he hissed, wiping away his tears, “so incredibly stupid.” With that he stood and walked quickly out of the room, not knowing if he’d be able to look at her anymore. Charlotte watched as he left the room with emotionless eyes, letting herself shut down yet again to prevent herself from feeling the pain that should have happened at his caustic words and anger.

Draco slammed the door to his room behind him, not caring if it woke the rest of the house up. He stepped into his room, running his hands over his face to clear it of tears. He paced for a few minutes, fisting his hands in his hair as his thoughts overwhelmed him. He wondered what would happen to him if Charlotte died. He knew that their hearts were connected, and that Charlotte relied on him, but did he rely on her? He then thought against it, knowing that Charlotte would never risk his life or put him to death.

He glanced over to the drawer that contained all the letters he had written while she was away, all the love he had poured onto paper for her, and contemplated burning the lot of them, so no one would see how stupid he had been for falling in love with a girl who would risk her life to do the right thing. He then thought against burning them, but knew that he would probably never give them to her like he had intended. He would have the opportunity to. She had made her choice and there wouldn’t be any going back after today. In a matter of hours, she would be dead. Draco knew this without a doubt. He sat down on his bed and collapsed into peals of sobs, knowing there was no hope now.

Charlotte sat in a chair in the Malfoy’s dining room, empty chairs on either side of her. She wore her black, Death Eater robes, yet they were loose in places Charlotte had never imagined them to be. She felt remarkably better since Severus had come earlier that morning and made some sort of potion to cure her. Still, she was as thin as a rail, yet looked like she had regained a bit of color to her cheeks and lips. Her parents, who were supposed to have shown up to the gathering of Death Eaters, weren’t present and she feared what could have happened to them or what would happen to them because of their absence.

The dead woman that lay inches in front of her was no stranger to Charlotte. She had taught Muggle Studies at Hogwarts and Charlotte remembered passing her occasionally in the corridors and seeing her at the professor‘s table at meals. She could tell that she was a kind woman, just from the way she treated the students she passed, and she knew that she hadn’t deserved this kind of treatment at all. Still, Charlotte felt no sort of emotion as she watched the woman be devoured by the snake, Nagini, as Death Eaters sat around and relished in her death.

Once the woman had been completely cleared away, yet the blood left over had not, no one moved, because they hadn’t been told they could get up and leave. Draco sat across from Charlotte, a few seats down, in between his father and mother. He had occasionally glanced over at her, to see her reactions to what was going on, because he was feeling increasingly ill as the seconds passed. He felt sorry that she was all alone and that she hadn’t the slightest clue where her parents had gone. Draco, however, knew that her parents had taken refuge somewhere in Southeast Asia, leaving Gregory and Charlotte to fend for themselves in the war. He thought them quite pathetic and cowardly.

“So, you all must be wondering why I haven’t allowed you all to leave,” the Dark Lord spoke and all eyes returned to him, spare Charlotte’s. She merely stared down at the table with a stolid expression. “For those of you that don’t know, Charlotte Goyle was given a gift from me on her sixteenth birthday. A gift that she was never supposed to take off or give away,” he continued in that cold, raspy voice of his. Draco glanced between Lord Voldemort and Charlotte, knowing what was about to happen.

“She has taken off the necklace and it has not returned to her. So, one can only wonder where it is,” he hissed, his red eyes staring hard at the girl who made no inclination to look back at him. “I would have expected it to be returned to her after her lovely trip to Azkaban, but it hasn’t. So I can only assume that it’s been given…away,” he carried on calmly before he appeared behind Charlotte’s chair, his spider-like hand slithering it’s way around her neck and clasping shut on her windpipe.

“Did you give it to your parents, Charlotte?” His hissed in her ear as she gasped futilely for air. Still, she made no effort to look at him or answer him, staring blankly ahead. Draco watched on, trying his hardest to hide the emotion that steadily grew within him. “Is that why your parents have run away from you and your brother, leaving you all alone, throwing the two of you into a grown-up world that you do not know of?” He slowly, yet with great ease, lifted her up by her neck and enchanted all three of the empty chairs to fly away from the area. He lifted her up above him with one hand, staring up at her harshly.

“No, that can’t be it. They don’t love you as much as they love themselves. They’ve left because they love themselves so much that they don‘t want to risk their lives anymore for me, yet they’ve left you and your brother for death,” he continued calmly. The others watched as Charlotte remained completely still; her arms and hands were relaxed at her sides, her legs were completely limp, and her eyes were focused, without emotion, on the man who held her life in his hand. There was no fear flooding her eyes. There were no tears of sadness. Draco looked away, to the table in front of him, knowing that if he watched any longer, he’d be inclined to do something rash.

“Who did you give the necklace to then, my darling Charlotte?” He asked as he gripped her neck even tighter than before. She merely gasped in return, knowing that he didn’t expect an answer from her. Lord Voldemort’s face curled into a menacing snarl as he stared up at her; both angered and pleased at her lack of emotion. “WHO DID YOU GIVE IT TO?!” He shouted as he shook her slightly, his voice echoing throughout the high ceilings of the Malfoy dining hall. Charlotte gasped again, yet made no effort to fight back or give him the answer he wanted.

With a look of pure disgust on his face, Lord Voldemort tossed her like a rag doll to the table. Charlotte slid across the surface of it, stopping just before Bellatrix Lestrange, who gave a hiss of discontent as she neared her. A large purple handprint was already visible on the pale skin of her neck and as she sat up slowly, bright red blood from the witch that had been killed and eaten by Nagini stained her dusty blonde hair, splattered across one side of her face, squelched against the palm of her hand as she slowly pushed herself up, and colored her black clothes just a shade darker.

“You best be thankful that you mean more to me than ten men, Charlotte,” he snarled to her, exposing his stained, sharpened teeth. The snake-like slits he had for nostrils flared in anger as he stared down at the strong, emotionless girl on the table. “You have an inexplicable power and demeanor, both which will be useful to me when the time is right.” Draco stared on in confusion, never seeing Lord Voldemort spare someone’s life like he had Charlotte’s. He then thought that perhaps she had such a strong mind that he hadn’t gotten hold of whom she had given the necklace to, because if he had she would sure be dead. “I pity you, Charlotte Goyle,” he spat at her, yet knew that wouldn’t incite an emotional response, “yet know this, if you dare withdraw your loyalty to me, or go against my word again. I will not spare you as I have today.” The Dark Lord looked up and around at all those who stared at him.

“That goes for all of you!” He yelled. “No one will be spared like her, absolutely no one!” He then turned and hastily walked out of the double doors that lead to the room, leaving behind the heightened tension that had grown since he had appeared in the room. No one moved for a while, merely looking at each other. Charlotte was the first one to move. She slid of the table gracefully and quickly began to walk for a side door, one that she knew lead to the kitchen and eventually the grounds. As soon as the door had closed behind her, conversation erupted.

Draco sent a look to both his mother and father, both of whom had both gone very pale, before standing and following after Charlotte. The crowded room was too much for him and he would have never imagined that a Hogwarts professor would ever be slaughtered in his house. He was still in disbelief that Lord Voldemort had spared Charlotte, yet knew that this wouldn’t come without consequences. He needed to make sure that she hadn’t been hurt. He needed to apologize to her after treating her the way he did. He wasn’t sure if she would talk to him, but as long as Draco could say what he needed to, he was sure that would be enough.