Never Let Go

The snow came early that year, falling in October as opposed to December or January, as it normally accustomed. The snow was gladly welcomed by most of the students, whom eagerly ran outside to build snowmen and have snowball fights with their friends. They were laughing, beaming with joy at the seemingly endless supply of snow that the Hogwarts grounds were receiving, but there was one student in particular that couldn’t match her classmate’s excitement for the freezing substance. Emilia hated the cold. She hated rain. She hated snow. She hated anything that kept the sun away and kept her cooped up inside, petulant and bored out of her mind. There was nothing to do! Well, that’s an exaggeration. There were things to do. There were essays waiting to be written, books that had to be read, and objects that could’ve been sketched. But try as she did, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything remotely productive.

All she did, for the first few days, was wander around the corridors, muttering angrily to herself about how the snow fucking sucked. Had there been someone there to keep her company, the snow wouldn’t have sucked so much. In fact, it’s sucking would’ve been significantly lessened. But Chey and Jade weren’t talking with her. She couldn’t talk with Harry, and Ron was off somewhere, plotting something with Harry and Hermione. So she was left to her own devices, which on occasion led her to the kitchens to visit Dobby, but he was seldom there. Apparently he was the only elf that cleaned Gryffindor tower, the others refused to go in there, because Hermione was trying to free them, and none of them desired to be free. They were perfectly happy at Hogwarts and weren’t going to have their way of life altered.

Since Dobby wasn’t there, she thought it best to try to spend more time with Draco, but their course schedules didn’t coincide. And the only time she could actually see him was at meals. So other than that she was alone, alone to wander the halls of Hogwarts, but then, on October 5th, she remembered that there was someone she could spent time with, someone that she’d meant to ask Ron about but hadn’t had a chance to in the last few days, and so, Emilia walked up to deserted girls bathroom to pay a visit to Myrtle. She walked in slowly, unsure if the teenage ghost would welcome her company, but the moment Myrtle’s eyes landed on her, Emilia knew that she was welcomed.

Myrtle’s company wasn’t the best that Emilia had ever had. She spent a great deal of her time just complaining about hardships that she’d faced when she was alive, and those that she’d faced after she passed away. She’d go on and on, but every so often, she’d stop and ask Emilia a question, undoubtedly to check if the youth had paid attention. And when Emilia answered correctly, an odd little smile crept onto Myrtle’s face. She was pleased that someone was paying attention to her, that someone was making an effort to seek her out. Emilia thought it odd that Draco would visit someone that mostly talked about herself. That didn’t seem like something that Draco would do, but then she remembered something, she remembered the affinity with which Myrtle spoke of some of the male students, of the longing in her eyes and the anguish.

And a thought popped into her head, perhaps Myrtle didn’t go on and on about the misery of her life to Draco, perhaps he was the one that unburdened himself to her. If that was so, then Myrtle would know many of his secrets, but Emilia wasn’t sure if the emotional ghost would just tell her everything that Draco had confided in her. And so, Emilia resolved on spending more time with Myrtle, on visiting her every chance she had, which proved to be most of her free time during the day, since there wasn’t anything else to do. The visits were gladly welcomed by Myrtle. She took pleasure in watching the curly headed youth stroll into the bathroom. There was something about Emilia that she just liked. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she humored her ramblings or if it was her eyes, which bore such a strong resemblance to Draco’s. But whatever it was, she liked it, and she liked having someone to pass the time with.

A week went by in that fashion and all Emilia learned was that a boy visited Myrtle at night, which was why the ghost always ushered her out at six and told her to please not disturb her. The first evening that Myrtle ushered her out of the bathroom, Emilia asked her who the boy was, just to see if the ghost would reveal Draco’s name, but she didn’t. Myrtle simply repeated that it was a boy that would visit, that it was no one that Emilia would know. Emilia dropped the subject, knowing better than to her pursue it, and when she left the bathroom, she ran out to have dinner, where she spoke with Draco. And when dinner passed, when they walked back to the common room together, she went go upstairs to grab a thick sweater and then run to the corridor outside the bathroom, so that she could wait for Draco.

There wasn’t a night in which Draco didn’t pay Myrtle a visit. He always stopped by, sometimes it was early in the night, others it was late, but each and every night he was there. And he would stay for hours. His affinity for the bathroom and for the bathroom’s lone inhabitant, made Emilia’s curiosity grow. She wanted to know why he was in there. Why did he seek out Myrtle? Was it because she wouldn’t judge him? Or perhaps it was because she wouldn’t interrupt him, whatever the reason was, Emilia was determined to find it out. She just had to keep reminding herself that reconnaissance missions take time, because a week felt like an eternity to her.

In her teenage mind, she’d thought that after a week, she would’ve had everything figured out. His motives, his task, everything! But alas, all she knew was that he talked to Myrtle for about an hour and a half to two hours everyday, and after he was done talking to her, he would scurry off to the some place on the seventh floor. Emilia would follow, she would follow him up flights of stairs and through corridors, but whenever they got to the seventh floor of the castle, she always lost him. Draco somehow managed to disappear. It frustrated the hell out of here, and she resolved on keeping a closer eye on him. She tried closing the distance between them, while still maintaining a reasonable gap, but on that floor, she always lost him, always!

And not knowing where it was that Draco scurried off to was, utterly unacceptable. What if that was the place where he conducted all his Death Eater related business? What if in there, she would find the answers to all her questions? It was very likely that that might just be the case, but she wasn’t any closer to knowing where that place was, than when she’d started following him. She knew she was going to have to change her approach, perhaps ask, Harry to borrow his map and cloak of invisibility. But she’d have to wait until the weekend to ask him. There was going to be a trip to Hogsmeade, and in her mind, it made sense to ask Ron to tell Harry to meet her in the outskirts of the village, where the thick forestry would offer them privacy from the peering eyes of their classmates.

All she had to do was make it to the weekend, to Saturday, which was easier said than done since her impatience was getting the best of her. She was frustrated with herself, with her lack of progress, and was worried that Harry would be disappointed that she hadn’t found out anything of true importance. That was the reason that she didn’t sleep well on Friday night. She tossed and turned the whole night through, waking up every so often, only to stare out into the darkness. It was an awful night. She’d been looking forward to actually getting a proper’s nights sleep, but no, there was no sleep to had, and when she finally stumbled out of bed the following morning, she felt even more tired than when she’d climbed in.

With sleep filled eyes, she wandered towards the bathrooms, which were empty since everyone else was fast asleep. She took a long shower, relishing in the feel of the warm skin against her flesh, and then, when she finished showering, she stood inside the shower stall, debating whether or not she should turn off the water and deal with the cold. She stood there for a good while, not stepping out until the water began to grow cold. The other girls were going to be pissed at her, but the odds were that by the time they woke up, there’d be warm water to shower with.

After she finished getting dressed, she stuffed a notebook in her bag and grabbed her oversized parka. If she was going to be out in the snow, then she was going to make sure that she was as warm as she could possibly be. She wandered through the halls in relative silence, making her way to the bathroom on the second floor to pay Myrtle a morning visit. The visit didn’t last as long as they normally did, only a little over forty minutes, but by then, Emilia’s stomach was grumbling so loudly that she couldn’t ignore it. She excused herself, reassuring Myrtle that she’d be back the next day and after having Myrtle go off on her, about just casting her aside, Emilia finally left the bathroom.

She’s fucking crazy, Emilia thought to herself. She’d suspected that Myrtle was crazy for quite sometime, but when the ghost went off on her for being “insensitive” when she said she was hungry, that was just going to far. Emilia was human. She had to eat. And it wasn’t her fault that Myrtle was a ghost. But she couldn’t snap at Myrtle and tell her that. She just had to keep quiet about that and humor Myrtle’s odd behavior. She spent her entire walk to the Great Hall, thinking about how crazy and angry Myrtle had looked. It was like some psychotic ghoul had possessed her. The way she looked, the way her voice sounded had just been completely off and Emilia was glad to be free of her, at least for the day.

The Great Hall was practically deserted when Emilia walked in. The Professors, well most of them, were seated at the head table, but there were few students eating that early. Most of them must have surely preferred to sleep in, than eat at eight in the morning. Had Emilia been able to sleep, she would’ve done the same. She would’ve lay in bed until noon and then scurried off to Hogsmeade to meet up with Harry at two, as they’d agreed on. But she couldn’t sleep, and as such, she walked over to the completely empty Slytherin table and piled eggs onto a plate.

For the first time in nearly two weeks, Emilia was able to sit down for a meal, without having people glare at her or whisper when she walked by. Everyone in the cafeteria was so busy fighting off sleep and having breakfast that they forgot that she was even there, and she liked it. Merlin did she like it. Having people talk behind her back and hate her was hard on Emilia. She’s always had friends at school. She was sociable and well liked back in America, and she’d been liked well enough at Hogwarts. But that one punch changed everything. That punched made her an outcast, and she was coping with it as best she could, reminding herself that it was all for the greater good, that it’d be worth it in the end.

“Morning Miss Renner,” spoke Dumbledore from beside her.

Emilia looked up from her half eaten breakfast. “Good morning, Sir,” she said, after having swallowed the food in her mouth.

“I trust I find you well.”

“Yeah, I mean, yes. I'm well.” Emilia smiled nervously at him, unsure of why he was talking to her. “Seems like the snow’s not falling that hard anymore,” her grandmother had always told her that when in doubt, it was best to comment on the weather, which was exactly what she did.

“Ah. Yes.” He looked up at the enchanting ceiling. “I daresay it will make for lovely weather for the visit to Hogsmeade.” He watched as she slightly scrunched her nose. “You do not agree?”

“I don’t like snow,” she explained. “But I have a parka so that shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Miss Renner this is Scotland, not the arctic.” His eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Might not be the arctic, but it sure feels like it. And the dungeons, oh, they’re freezing! If it weren’t for all the fires in there, I'm pretty sure I would’ve woken up a Millie icicle.”

A light chuckle passed his lips. “Well, bundle up then. I am sure that a Millie icicle will be in no one’s interest.”

“It wouldn’t be.”

“Well, I believe it is time that I set off. Good day, Miss Renner.” He didn’t even wait for her to respond, he simply took off in a walk.

Emilia watched in silence as he grew further and further from view, puzzled by the random conversation they’d just held. She’d thought that Dumbledore was going to tell her something. She wasn’t sure as to what that something would be, but she’d figured it’d be important. Why else would he walk over? He may have been a kind man, but pointless small talk with students, wasn’t something she’d ever seen him do. Maybe he’d just wanted to check that she was still functioning. The last time they’d spoken was because of the fight, and since then, things had gotten tougher. He must have heard what was going on. He was the headmaster! He was bound to have heard students talking shit about her, and so, Emilia decided that that was the reason he’d spoken to her, he just wanted to check that she was alright.

What remained of breakfast, she sent sitting alone at Slytherin table. Not many others students ventured forth to eat, waking up before ten was unheard of for many of them. When she finally finished drinking the last of her coffee, she wiped her mouth and threw her bag over her shoulder. She needed to finish up a sketch for Muggle Arts, and would do so before it was time to head off to Hogsmeade. Her sketch was of the Forbidden Forest, of the tree lines and the majestic mountains, which meant that she’d have to endure the cold up in the Astronomy tower in order to get the best view of it.

Luckily for her, the tower was empty when she got there. She was able to set up a station at her favorite spot and spent the following two hours sketching away. She lost herself in her work, in the beauty of the forest. It wasn’t until her wristwatch went off at 12:30 that she packed things up and threw on her parka. It was time to get bundled up to venture into the snow and over to Hogsmeade. And Emilia got very bundled up. The parka was thick, making her seem even plumper than usual and along the bottom of her face, she wore a scarf, because she didn’t want the air she breathed in to be cold. She knew she was being ridiculous, but it couldn’t be helped. For as long as she could remember, her grandmother and Mitzi had bundled her up in the same manner. Her grandmother had even put an enchantment on her to keep the cold from getting to her, but her grandfather intervened, claiming that that was just taking it too far.

When she finished getting ready, she began the long descent down to the Hogwarts grounds, where she would brave the snow during the two mile walk to Hogsmeade. She thought about taking one of the brooms, but she wasn’t the best flying out there. In fact, her flying abilities were really bad. That wasn’t because she’d never wanted to take proper flying lessons. It was because her Nan thought that flying was something that Emilia didn’t have to bother herself with, though Emilia knew the real reason behind the motive. And the real reason was that when her father was younger, about fifteen or sixteen, he’d fallen off his broom and ended up at St. Mungo’s for two weeks. She’d tried pestering her Nan into letting her take professional lessons so that she’d feel safe about Emilia being up there, but her Nan refused to budge, and she was left a mess on a broom.

And as she walked through the snow, she cursed angrily at her Nan. The elderly witch only wanted what was best for her, Emilia got that, but she just didn’t see why everything had to go like the elderly witch wanted it to. There was going to come a time when Emilia was going to have to put her foot down, to tell her Nan that it was her life and that she was going to fuck up every once in awhile, but that she was entitled to fucking up, that it was a right of passage, but that Saturday wasn’t the day she’d put her foot down. Nor would it be that Sunday or the following Monday. For the present, Emilia would keep doing what she’d always done, try to not stray to far from what her Nan wanted, and most of all, keep the unsavory aspects hidden. Because if her Nan found out that she was spying for Harry or befriending Draco, there would be hell to pay.

She spent the last mile of her walk, contemplating what her Nan would do to her. She was taken from those thoughts when she began to hear the sound of people laughing, talking and just being in high spirits. She lifted her gaze from the ground and stared out at the snow covered village. The damn thing looked like something out of a muggle film, something beautiful that belonged on the screen, instead of real life. When she passed the main entrance of the village, she checked her watch, it was 1:27. She had enough time to grab a hot chocolate at the Three Broomsticks, but then she’d be pushing it, time wise. And there’d be a chance that she and Harry would waltz into the forest at the same time, and if someone saw that, it could be disastrous.

Her craving for hot chocolate would simply have to wait until after she finished talking to Harry, and if by then, the snow began to fall harder, she would just hold off on the hot chocolate until she got back to Hogwarts. Though, as she trekked through the deep snow that had been piled along the side of the road, she was tempted to just forego the meeting all together and run back to Hogwarts at full speed. It’d be warm at Hogwarts, she’d be able to change into warm pajamas and lounge in the kitchens where hot chocolate and little marshmallows would be at her command. Oh. It’d be glorious! Her mouth watered just at the thought of it, and before she even realized what she was doing, she turned around and started walking back to Hogwarts. Had it not been for someone hitting her in the back with a snowball she would’ve surely walked all the way back.

But the snowball struck her right in the back, and she was jolted out of her thoughts. She looked around for the perpetrator, eyes narrowed in contempt and lips hitched upwards in a snarl. It was probably some asshole that didn’t like her because of the fight and if that was the case, she was going to fuck them up. She was tired of taking the high road of ignoring and walking away from people. If they were going to hit her, she was going to hit back, but just as her rage was reaching its peak, she spotted a terrified student, no older than eleven, that looked on the verge of tears.

“I-I'm sorry.” She apologized. “I was . . . was playing with friends. Please don’t hit me.”

Emilia’s face softened. “Not gonna hit you. Just be careful with where you throw things.”

“I will.” She reassured.

Emilia forced a smile and then walked away. She got off the main road, going into the forest where the snow was thicker. She walked on in silence, her eyes scanning ahead, and when she reached their designated meeting spot, she started looking around for a log or something to sit down. There was no log or tree stump nearby. She found herself forced to walk around, but it was alright, it’d soon be two and Harry would show up for the chat. The problem was, two came and went, and Harry hadn’t arrived. Time kept going by and with each passing moment she grew more and more restless. She told herself that he’d probably been caught up somewhere. That he’d get there as soon as he could, but when the clock struck three, she decided she’d wasted enough time waiting for him and went off to find him.

“Fucking asshole,” she muttered quietly to herself. “Who the fuck does he think he is? Not showing up when I have to ask him something! Ugh. I'm stuck risking my ass to help him out, and he can’t take the time out of his busy fucking day to do the same. Oh! When I see him, I'm going to hex him! I'm going to hex him so bad that he’ll have to go to the Hospital Wing and I won’t feel bad for doing it. Nope, nope, won’t feel bad at all!”

She looked all around Hogsmeade for Harry, but he was nowhere to be found. So she decided to look around Hogwarts, and she looked and looked, she spent over two hours looking for him. And then, angered and annoyed, she resolved to look around Gryffindor tower for him, so she turned in the direction, but halfway there something happened, halfway there someone reached out for her and pulled her into a deserted broom closet. She instinctively drew her wand to throw a hex at whoever had pulled her in, but when she saw Harry standing there, staring at her with a look of sheer anger, she lowered her wand and opted to question him.

“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?” she snarled. “Do you know how long I waited in the snow for you to show up? AN HOUR! I wasted a fucking hour of my time waiting for you to show up so we could discuss what I'm doing for you and you –”

“You haven’t done a damn thing!” he snapped, his brilliant green eyes glaring daggers at her.

“What did you just say?” she fought back the urge to punch him.

“You’ve not done a thing!” he repeated. “It’s been weeks and nothings been found out. Nothing!” he hissed.

“It hasn’t even been two whole weeks and I'm doing pretty fucking good. Draco’s starting to trust me more. He seeks me out during meals so don’t act like I haven’t.”

“I don’t care what happens during meals! It’s about what happens outside.”

“And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Emilia cut him off.

“Y-you did?” stuttered Harry.

Emilia nodded. “I’ve found out some stuff, but it’s not enough to pin anything important to him. I need to borrow your cloak and map so I can have a decent shot of finding out what’s going on with him.”

“What have you found out, exactly?” he stared curiously at her. “Does it have something to do with a necklace?”

“A necklace?” her brow furrowed.

“Yes, yes, a necklace. Did it?”

Emilia shook her head. “No, I just know his nightly routine. If I had a cloak, I’d be able to actually be in the room with him and listen to what he says without freaking out over whether or not he’ll see me. But what are you talking about a necklace for? What happened?”

“You’ve not heard?” he was surprised, he’d thought that everyone had heard about what happened to Katie.

“Obviously not,” she hissed. “What happened? Does it have to do with you not showing up?”

He nodded. “Katie, well, I don’t know if you’ve met her, but she’s in Gryffindor and she was cursed by a necklace with dark magic.” Harry lowered his voice. “No one knows anything about it, but it’s a very expensive, very dark piece of jewelry.”

“And you think Draco had something to do with that.” she whispered more to herself than to him.

“Makes sense doesn’t it? Who else has access to dark, expensive things?”

“It does make sense.” Emilia admitted. “Did Katie say anything? Mention anyone at all?”

“No. She’s not been well enough to talk. She’s not well at all. They’re sending her over to St. Mungo’s to recover.”

“Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly,” he took in a breath. “Millie, I know it’s Draco. There’s no one else that would’ve done it but him. And there’s no one but you that can get evidence to prove that.”

“I know, but I'm gonna need your cloak and map. And I’ll need them as soon as possible; because if he did it, then there’s a good chance he might mention it when he’s alone.”

“I’ll have it to you as soon as possible, but remember to solemnly swear you’re up to no good.”

By eight that night, the map and cloak were in Emilia’s possession and she was closely following Draco. The map was tucked inside her inner coat pocket the her right hand clutched the cloak tightly around herself, she wasn’t going to risk being seen, there was to much riding on this exploit. She had even used a special charm that kept her feet from making sound as she walked. Tonight, she would get answers for her questions. She was determined.

She followed Draco up the familiar flights of stairs, through the corridors, and then to an ordinary wall. She watched in silence as Draco paced in front of it; once, twice, a third time. And then, without warning, a massive archway appeared. She was momentarily rendered immobile, shock had gotten the best of her, but that passed when she saw Draco walk in. She ran towards the door, both hands gripping the cloak, and just as the archway was beginning to vanish, she made her way in.

Once inside, her eyes went wide at the sight of all the objects in the massive room. There were ancient relics that seemed as old as Hogwarts, others that were modern, seeming only a few months old, and as her eyes darted around, she wondered how it was that Draco had found the room, and if Harry knew of its existence.

“What am I to do? What AM I TO DO?!” cried Draco from a few feet away from her, kicking over a stack of boxes in his anger.

His outburst took her from her thoughts and she stepped closer to him, keeping a manageable distance from him just incase things escalated.

“Can’t do one bloody thing right? Can I?” he was overwhelmed by it all, of what was expected of him, of what was needed. “He knows I can’t do a thing, that’s why he’s having me do this. That’s why!”

Doing what?

“He wants us dead. Merlin, he wants us dead! Ever since dad botched things up at the Ministry, he’s not been keen on us, he’s been searching for away to make us suffer and this is it. THIS IS IT!” he collapsed on the ground, sobs wracking through his body. “How am I to do it? How am I to kill him?” he choked out.

Kill who?

“He knows I'm no match for him. That I’ll fail, but I can’t fail! I CAN’T! We’ll all die if I can’t do it. Mum, dad, me.” His sobbing became stronger, rendering him a blubbering mess on the ground. “This wasn’t how I’d envisioned it; this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But I’ve got no choice. I’ve got no bloody choice. I’ve got to kill him. I’ve got to kill Dumbledore.”