The Same Mistake

Malfoy lay in his four poster bed wide awake, his thoughts loud and persistent kept sleep at bay. His concentration was split between his seemingly impossible task and a certain girl with blonde hair. Malfoy couldn’t deny that he was nervous about what Ellie might have told Potter. He knew that room now on he would have to be far more cautious around her; at least until he was certain of her allegiances.

His own recent behavior with Ellie irked him greatly. Ellie had a very strange influence over him, on that was futile to deny. Where she was concerned, rationale thought abandoned him. There was no respectable reason for such behavior; she was not the first girl to throw his barbed comments back at him. Hell, even that Mudblood Hermione Granger did that.
No. It had more to do with Ellie, herself. The way that even if she was criticizing him there was still and undercurrent of familiarity as if she were teasing him, not attacking him. Then of course, there was also the fact that his own cruel comments did not seem to make a lasting impression. She rallied against them as unconcerned as ever.

Ellie was confusing and she was simple. She was a girl, he was a boy. If he wanted her, he would have her. Yet, as it currently stood, he was sure that adoring Pansy was the better choice. Pansy didn’t question him, didn’t test him; she didn’t complicate his already stressful life.

Which of course was where his task came in. The upcoming Hogsmeade visit loomed ever closer. The cursed necklace was in the possession of Borgin and Burkes, waiting to be delivered to Rosemerta. With a few well coordinated events, the necklace would be handed off to Katie Bell who would then pass it on to Dumbledore. It was this thought that turned Draco’s insides to ice. Dumbledore dead. Dumbledore dead at his hands.
Draco rolled over squeezing his eyes shut against the early morning light that seeped into the room. A week to go.