Little Memories

Charlotte saw Gregory to his guest room in the Malfoy Manor to be sure that none of the older Death Eaters would try to test him or make any jests about their parents. She knew that if she wasn’t there, they would certainly try to poke at the newest Death Eater or make low comments about how their parents had abandoned the Dark Lord’s cause. However, if she accompanied him, no Death Eater would dare make any jokes. As calm and as cool-headed as the girl may have appeared, she was known to have an underlying temper and will for retaliation.

When she made the way back to her room, she heard talking from within the room the Dark Lord was staying in and sped up ever-so-slightly. She was in no mood to be pulled into any more of his plans for the evening. Charlotte made it back to her guest room without running into anyone and let out a heavy sigh. The events of the day had made her weary and all she longed for was the opportunity to try and get at least a few hours of sleep.

By the looks of the note, dress, and shoes set on her bed, someone had other plans for her. Another heavy sigh escaped her as she walked over to the bed and picked up the note, reading over it and deciding if she’d make herself present at whatever dinner had been planned. The note was in a familiar hand-writing and she recognized who had left the note immediately.

“Since our last dinner alone did not go quite as planned, I’m hoping that you’ll join me for another, perhaps better, dinner. Same time, same place.
-Draco”

Charlotte placed the note to the side and glanced down at the dress and the heels. Her brow furrowed with silent thought for a moment before she began to pull off her clothes and prepare for the dinner.

Once Charlotte was finished getting dressed, she made her way from the guest room quietly and made her way to the private dining hall that she was to have dinner in. Her navy blue, suede heels clicked across the tiled floors, echoing harshly against the high ceilings of the Malfoy Manor. The liquid, metal grey dress she wore clung loosely to what little curves the girl had, skirting over the hard edge of bones that protruded unhealthily through her thin skin. Her hipbones were the most prominent bones, followed by her shoulder blades, which the dress did little to cover up. She wore bright red lipstick, as usual, and had smeared a bit of black eyeliner around her eyes. And to bring a bit more color to her appearance, she dusted a bit of rosy blush on the apples of her cheeks, just enough to make her look a bit more alive.

When she pushed open the door to the private dining hall, she noticed that Draco was already seating at the table, merely a silhouette against the roaring fire in the fireplace. Charlotte closed the door quietly behind her, wincing slightly at how late she must have been for the dinner. Draco heard the door click shut and looked over at the girl who stood in the room and stood. He bit his bottom lip as he let his eyes dart over the dress that he and his mother had picked out for her. The color of it made her skin look luminescent and pale, flawless, Draco thought. Her hair was curly, as it was naturally, and fell just above her cheekbones in tight, dirty blonde ringlets.

“For a second there, I thought you weren’t going to come,” he said softly, clasping his hands behind his back as Charlotte slowly began to walk toward him. An uncharacteristically bashful look worked it’s way across her face as she heard his words. She stopped just shy of him and drew in a breath of air.

“I wouldn’t have taken so long if I hadn’t made sure that my brother was getting settled in his room,” she said softly, pushing back a wayward curl from her face.

“In other words, you were making sure my aunt and her husband didn’t say anything nasty to him,” Draco added, knowing he had the right assumption when Charlotte looked away, her head falling forward a bit.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, shaking her head a bit. Draco gently caught her chin in his hand and gently lifted her head so that he could look into her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said, giving her a small reassuring smile, “you’ve got too much to worry about at the moment. Embarrassment and disappointing me shouldn’t be one of them.” Charlotte gave him a shaky smile in return and Draco leaned forward, placing his lips chastely against hers for a moment or two before pulling away. “Let’s have dinner and forget about things for a while,” he said, smiling even wider at the sight of Charlotte smiling freely.

The dinner, while quiet and rarely interrupted by conversation, was an amicable one. It lacked the angry tension that the previous dinner had and the smiles never left their faces. Yet every time Draco looked into Charlotte’s eyes, he could tell that something was deeply troubling the girl that he loved. However, she never let it show in her smiles, which were genuine, and her actions. By the time the dinner was over, and the food and plates had been cleared, Draco and Charlotte walked, hand-in-hand, back to the guest room that Charlotte was staying in.

They took their time walking back across the quiet halls and staircases of Malfoy Manor, knowing that quiet moments like these would be few and that the should cherish the time they had. When the couple finally reached the guest room, Charlotte leaned back against the door with a crooked grin, watching Draco watch her. He couldn’t help but to grin in return, enthralled by the way her eyes were sparkling mischievously like the had before all the mess had happened at the end of their previous school term. They stood there in near silence, just looking at one another, before Charlotte slowly reached out and took the lapel of Draco’s dinner jacket in her fingers and pulled him toward her. The smirk he wore only widened.

“Do you want to stay in my room tonight?” She asked in an alluring, low whisper as her eyes slowly danced over him before meeting his eyes again. She had to bite her bottom lip, to stem the laughter that threatened to pass from her, when she saw the rosy blush that colored Draco’s cheeks. He went to say something in response, but instead cleared his throat, feeling flushed all of a sudden.

“Yes,” was all he managed to get out, feeling more like a simpering Neville Longbottom than the confident Draco Malfoy at the moment. Then again, Charlotte had always been a girl he nearly always felt anxious about. He could never quite predict what her reactions would be, or her moods, or if she were about to prank him or not. “Ju-just let me go get some pajamas,” he added before leaning forward and placing his lips against hers, hoping to regain of bit of his confidence back.

“Alright,” Charlotte replied in a teasing tone once their lips had parted, “but you won’t be needing them.” Draco’s hands started shaking and he gave Charlotte a nervous smile before turning and crossing the hallway, quickly entering his room. Charlotte watched him for a moment before pulling open the door to the guest room and leaving it cracked open. She walked over to the bed and sat down on it, pulling off her heels and setting them to the side. Then, she began to pull off her jewelry and set it in a small, black jewelry box with ornate silver patterns on it that never seemed to stay set for too long. They were always changing, languidly moving to the next pattern or design.

As soon as Draco entered his room his ran his shaking hands through his hair, taking in a deep breath and exhaling to try and calm himself down. He stood there for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before he walked over to his dresser and began to pick out a pair of pajama pants. He didn’t care what they were, or what they looked like, all he knew was that he needed to get back to Charlotte’s room before one of them changed their minds. Well, he knew he wouldn’t change his mind, but there was no telling with Charlotte. He could faintly hear footsteps outside his wide-open door, but didn’t pay any mind to them as he turned and began to walk out of his room.

He stepped out of the door and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw his Aunt Bellatrix standing just outside the door with a wicked grin on her lips. Draco stared at her for a moment before sighing heavily and closing his bedroom door, waiting for her to say something to him, but he would have much rather her walk in the opposite direction and leave him be.

“So,” Bellatrix started, crossing her arms over her chest, “how was the dinner with your lovely?” Draco stared at her nervously, clutching at the pajama bottoms in his hand.

“It was fine,” he said bluntly, not wanting to be rude to one of his family members, even if she was completely and utterly mad.

“You know…I don’t really approve of her,” Bellatrix said as she shook her head, staring up at Draco.

“Well…you don’t need to,” Draco said plainly, glancing nervously to the guest room door, which was slightly open.

Charlotte heard the chatter in the hallway of Draco’s inane, psychotic aunt and stood from the bed, a curious expression curling her features. She stepped over to the slightly open door, peering at the two of them through the crack in the door. She hadn’t the slightest clue of what Bellatrix was getting at with what she was saying, but she was ready to defend herself if it came to it.

“I know that,” Bellatrix said in an all-too-happy voice with a wide, crooked grin, “I’m only voicing your parents concerns.” Draco’s brow knit together as he continued to glance from his aunt to the crack in Charlotte’s door, knowing that she was listening.

“What have my parents been saying?” Draco asked quietly, hoping that his aunt couldn’t hear the distrust in his tone. However, he was very curious if his parents had concerns about Charlotte. He knew that his mother loved her like a daughter she never had. He knew that his father had gotten to know Charlotte during their stay together in Azkaban.

“They think she’s a darling girl, Draco, don’t misinterpret my words,” his aunt started, shaking her head slowly, “however, they’re worried about her mental health.” Draco nearly scoffed at his aunt. She was the least normal, sane person he knew. He also knew that she couldn’t be the judge of other’s mental stability.

“What do you mean ‘mental health’?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at Bellatrix. He was beginning to grow tired of her accusations and only wanted to get to Charlotte’s room and soothe over the situation.

Charlotte, who was watching them silently, felt a rage beyond anything she had felt bubbling up at the wicked woman’s words. Her body burned with the unseen anger and her hands shook at her sides. ‘How dare that woman question my mental health,’ she thought to herself.

“She’s exactly like me now, Draco,” his aunt continued to prattle on happily, “she’s a cold-blooded murderer and an Azkaban escapee.” Draco knew that Charlotte could never be like her, but chose not to say anything for fear of upsetting her and having her go and tattle to his parents like a two-year-old. Charlotte’s thoughts turned to the blackest kind as she stared at the woman who nearly constantly sought her out. She knew the woman was jealous that Charlotte held a higher place with the Dark Lord, and wanted to knock her out of that position. “Did you know that she’s killed even more people than me?” She continued on, sounding like an old woman, gossiping and telling stories that weren’t hers to be told. “And…that she’s caused a right more to go insane and land in St. Mungo’s?”

Draco looked over to Charlotte’s door and noticed her standing there, barely illuminated by the light from the room behind her and the dim light of the hallway. He could tell she was furious by the look on her face and the way she was breathing. He could almost feel the anger radiating off her in waves and felt the sudden need to shut up his aunt.

“She’s had more than a taste of murder, Draco. She’s had a meal and she’ll never stop killing, you know,” Bellatrix continued on and he merely shot her a look, shaking his head slowly. Charlotte’s eyes focused on the woman as her thoughts remained on killing the woman slowly, shutting up her insanity for good. She spared no deep consideration of the position that would put her with the Malfoy family, nor with the Dark Lord. All she knew was that she was tired of the woman and she wanted her gone. “And did you know, well…it’s a mere speculation, that she’s not even-”

“Enough,” Charlotte said calmly from the door as she stepped into the hallway, causing both Draco and Bellatrix to look over at her. Draco stared at her cautiously, noticing the look on her face was void of emotion, yet a fire burned in her eyes. A fire that made him fear for his aunt despite how angry she made him. Bellatrix merely sneered at Charlotte.

“About time you joined us, Charlie,” the woman sang her nickname tauntingly, “I was just about to tell Draco that you aren’t-”

“Quiet,” Charlotte commanded in a calm voice, focusing her eyes on the black-haired woman that her rage was directed at. Bellatrix suddenly began to gasp for air, her hands grasping futilely at her throat as she stared at Charlotte with fear in her eyes. Draco glanced between the two of them frantically, watching as his aunt continued to struggle with the invisible binds around her throat. She slowly sunk to her knees, gasping dramatically to try and get air.

“Charlotte,” Draco murmured in disbelief, “stop.” Charlotte, however, continued to stare down Bellatrix, smirking slightly at the awful purple color her face was turning. Draco felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at Charlotte before glancing down to his aunt, who was struggling for air. “Please,” he breathed, scared for the life of his aunt, “stop it.” Finally, he stepped over to Charlotte and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to look at him. She met his eyes and blinked, the smirk falling from her expression slowly as fear built up behind her eyes. He could hear his aunt still gasping behind him as he stared down at Charlotte, in disbelief that she’d try to kill another Death Eater, let alone his aunt.

“I…” Charlotte voice died off as tears began building in her eyes. “I have to go.” She quickly spun out of Draco’s grasp and bolted to her room, knowing that she couldn’t stay at the Malfoy Manor any longer. There was no doubt in her mind that she would no longer be welcomed in the house, because she had nearly killed Mrs. Malfoy’s sister.

“I told you,” Bellatrix breathed in between rough coughs and she rose to her feet. Draco merely stared at Charlotte’s now closed door, not being able to let the who situation sink in. “I told you she was insane.” Draco merely sent a dark look over his shoulder to his aunt before walking to Charlotte’s room and letting himself inside.