The Same Mistake

Ellie lay on her stomach on an oriental rug. It was moth eaten and had long ago lost its pearly white sheen, but it was better than the castle floor. She blinked up at Draco who was crouched before the partial open cabinet.

“Did you know,” Ellie’s voice broke the diligent silence, “that you have a tres mignon derriere?”

Draco took the apple he had been about to place in the cabinet and chucked it over his shoulder at Ellie. He grinned over his shoulder at her. “Merci.”

Ellie snatched the apple out of the air before it could hit her. “You know, your French accent is rather weak.”

“Yes, well, we all can’t be as perfect as you, Ellie,” Draco teased with a hint of his old arrogance.

“Perfect?” Ellie arched an eyebrow. “I can think of a few people who would disagree.”

“Who?” asked Draco sharply, his mind already racing to who to curse.

Ellie smiled. “No one you need to worry about. Harry is beyond irritated with me for not telling him about you. Ginny is annoyed with me for trusting you and not confiding in her. And that,” Ellie stretched out on the carpet, rolling onto her back, “is simply how things are.”

Draco leaned over Ellie. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m with you.” Ellie shrugged. “You’re all I have, and that’s perfectly okay with me.”

Heat surged through Draco, it was a feeling he had come to solely associate with his consistently stronger feelings for Ellie, closer and closer to something he was scared to name. He glanced back at the cabinet.

“Ellie, can you sneak into the kitchens for food?”

Ellie popped up from the rug, running a hand through Draco’s short locks. “Of course.” Her thin figure disappeared behind the mass of other people’s unwanted belongings.

With Ellie out of view, Draco sank to the ground before the cabinet. “Broken,” he hissed, slamming his closed fist into the closed door of the cabinet. He opened the doors only to slam them shut again in frustration.

He had been sure, so sure, that his last tweak would have fixed the cabinet. However, every item he put inside the cabinet disappeared only to reappear several days later. The apple, meant to end up in Borgin and Brookes, never showed. Time was drawing to an end, the school year was quickly coming to a close.

And now there was Ellie. Damn the Order; all those bloody fools offering protection against an unbeatable force. If he could only convince her . . . now that she was free of the Order, she could join the Death Eaters. Draco could recruit her, just as the Dark Lord wanted, and once she was there, Draco could protect her. Keep her safe from the dangerous tasks by offering himself instead. If she had been willing to lose the Order for him, then she might be willing to change sides as well.

Draco’s thoughts whirled. But what would it matter, if he didn’t complete this task, his task to kill Dumbledore, he would be dead long before he ever got a chance to prove himself to Ellie. Because he did want to, he wanted to prove that she was the man she could trust to take care of her, to protect her, to be there for her when no one else would.

Like Potter and Weasley’s sister. Worthless blood traitors, the pair of them. How dare they treat Ellie as if she was less than them. He would return their bad behavior with his own should he get the chance.

“Draco?” Ellie’s soft voice carried over the many stacks of books and potions ingredients. “I brought back pain au chocolate because it’s my favorite and therefore I think you should like it too.”

Shaking out his frustration, Draco turned around, a smile pulled taunt across his lips. “And if I don’t like it?”

“Then just stick it in your little magical vanishing cabinet.”