Never Let Go

There was only a day left before she was meant to board the Hogwarts Express back to King’s Cross Station, but instead of spending her evening in sweats, lazily packing a few of her belongings into her trunk, she found herself forced to get dressed up for the Slug Club Christmas Party, a celebration that Professor Slughorn had organized for his most prized students. She had spent the last week trying to avoid him, hoping that if she didn’t cross paths with him that he’d forget all about her, but after four days of flying below the radar, he had managed to find her roaming around the dungeon area. With a bright smile on his face, he inquired as to whether or not she was ready for the evening’s festivities. She was tempted to play dumb, act as if she hadn’t a clue as to what he was going on about, but he was talking her ear off so much about the bloody party, that she ended up telling him that she was most excited for it, and that she was running a bit late to getting ready, so he’d have to excuse her.

Her lie was enough to get her away from his overly enthusiastic talking, but she was halfway up the stairs to the dormitory when she realized that now, whether she liked it or not, she would be forced to go to the damn party, because if she didn’t, he’d undoubtedly find her the following morning and scold her for having missed such a delightful evening. There was no chance that the evening was going to be delightful. She was going to be stuck in an uncomfortable dress that her Nan had sent out a few days earlier, and be forced to stand around pretending to look amused, waiting for Professor Slughorn to make small talk with her, so she could then sneak out and pretend as if she’d stayed the entire time. She hoped he’d talk to her early on, that way she could run back to the dungeon and change back into her sweats and oversized sweater. She just wanted to be lazy, and to minimize any chance of running into Ron, because she had a sneaking suspicion that if she were to wander the castle after nightfall, she’d find him and that girlfriend of his, snogging somewhere.

And that was the last thing she wanted. Emilia was fed up with seeing those two idiots attached at the lips. All they ever bloody did was alternate between snogging, gazing disgustingly into one another’s eyes, and that dreadful baby talk that – for some reason – Ron thought was alright to use. They were worse than teenagers in those American films she used to watch, and the mere thought of them possibly doing something more than snogging, left her sick to her stomach and caused her hand to inch towards her wand. She understood she didn’t technically have a right, to be upset, she’d been the one that broke up with him, so it was okay for him to move on and do whatever it was he did with Lavender, but in her heart, Emilia still felt that Ron was hers, hers alone. And seeing him running around with that damn Gryffindor always broke her heart.

If only she had a normal life set in front of her, she could’ve been with him, but she had too much on her plate, and she couldn’t give him what he needed. So it was better to just let him go, and maybe one day, they could give it another try, but for now, she just had to keep going, she had to get through the dinner, and then in a few short hours, she’d be on her way back home where her grandparents and Mitzi would fuss over her and make her feel better.

“You’re looking very sharp,” commented Sally as she walked into the dorm. “Where you off to?” she asked. “If ya don’t mind my asking, of course,” she added with a sheepish smile, making her way over to her bed.

“Thanks Sally.” Emilia stopped putting on her mascara. “I'm actually gonna head out to a dinner.”

“A dinner?” she asked, taking off her coat.

“Well, it’s more alone the lines of a party.” Emilia replied, redirecting her attention to the mirror that was floating in the air. “Professor Slughorn’s putting on this Christmas thing for the Slug Club. I wasn’t planning on blowing it off, but then I ran into him earlier, and now I have to go.” An idea suddenly struck her. “Sally?”

“Yeah, Millie?” called back the blond whom was busy pulling off her boots.

“Would you . . . I know this is last minute and all, but would you maybe like to be my date to the party? We can munch on some good food and have a laugh. It could be fun.”

“That’d be brilliant, but I’ve got a bit of a cold. Madam Pomfrey said it’d be best if I had this potion and didn’t wander for off from bed, told me I’d be right by morning so the train ride wouldn’t take such a toll. And I reckon I’d better do as she said, thank you though, for the offer.”

“Alright then, well, I hope you feel better and I’ll bring back some sweets for you.”

At five past eight, Emilia left Slytherin dungeon, and went off in direction of Professor Slughorn’s office where the party was to take place. Her pace wasn’t brisk. It wasn’t even at the usual speed with which she walked. She was a bit sluggish, not caring if she got there a little late. It wasn’t like she had any friends there to chat with. Harry and Hermione might have been in attendance, but she wasn’t publically friendly with either of them. That was too dangerous. So she moved on at her slow pace, keeping her gaze firmly fixed ahead out of fear that if she turned to glance into any of the archways or doors, she might see Ron and Lavender.

Luckily for her, keeping her eyes fixed ahead ended up sparing her seeing Ron mid snog with Lavender, but the same couldn’t be told for Ron, because when he pulled away to take in a deep breath, he was able to see her walking right by them. Her hair was done up in a 1940’s style, and the rose colored dress that she wore made her look like something out of a dream, but what got him most of all was her face, the make up had been meticulously done, and she looked more beautiful than she’d ever had. He was so taken by her that Lavender grew curious as to what had stolen the attention from her, but when she turned to look, she didn’t see Emilia, she didn’t see anything at all. There was just an empty corridor. And thinking that Ron had lost it a bit, she decided to initiate another snog, and with her lips hungrily ravaging his, with her body pressed firmly against his own, he forgot about Emilia all over again. His hormones got the best of him.

By the time Emilia reached the office, all the other Slug Club members and their dates had arrived. They were packed inside the office that had been transformed for the occasion. There was no sign of the grand desk or the volumes of books that normally adorned the walls Instead there were beautiful drapes of emerald, gold, and crimson. It was beautiful, and so grand that it made her feel as if she were in the tent of a King or Queen. Slughorn had spared no expense in executing his vision for the party, he had done it so that the elderly warlocks and witches that he’d invited, would feel as if they were out at their usual social spots, and as Emilia walked in, she couldn’t help but be reminded of all the dinners and balls that her grandparents had taken her to over the years.

“Miss Renner!” exclaimed Professor Slughorn when he spotted her across the room. “So good of you to join us!” he said as he moved towards her, and in four quick strides, he was standing about an arms length in front of her. “A few moments back, I was speaking of your grandfather to Auror Conrad. Do you know her?”

“I do, Sir. She was assigned to us when we were in America.”

“Was she really?”

“Yes, but only for a short time. She was with us for about a month or so before she was called back to the Ministry.”

“That explains why she spoke so warmly of your grandparents. I believed her merely friends with them, but this, oh this, this is fine news. I shall speak to her of this the next time I see her.”

“Is she not still here?”

“Unfortunately not, she was called away by Tonks. I believe there was a matter of security that needed discussing, but I do hope she is not called away to long and can return to the party. It would be such a pity for her not to enjoy it till the end.”

He was fishing for compliments. His tone of voice and look, made that incredibly clear to her, and knowing very well that he’d keep going on unless she complimented his party, she quickly praised the décor and musical entertainment. Everything was lovely, everything was delightful. Pleased by her praise, Professor Slughorn then asked her to accompany him; there were a few friends he wished to introduce her to. She didn’t bother protesting. There was no point in doing so. He was going to show her off to his acquaintances, speak of her grandfather, and then, when he tired and moved onto another student, she’d sneak out.

Unfortunately for her, Slughorn appeared set on introducing her to everyone present. He’d already done the same with Harry, having pulled him along until Harry slipped away and ran off with Luna. Emilia did her best to seem polite, not wanting word to get back to her grandparents that she’d been rude and unsociable, so she smiled and made herself amiable. It wasn’t until Slughorn introduced her to Eldred Worple and his guest, Sanguini, whom was a vampire. She’d never met a vampire before. Her Nan was weary of them, and as such, none had ever crossed paths with Emilia, but when she heard that he was a vampire, her eyes flickered with interest and she was much more sincere in her conversation.

Sanguini was also pleased by her company. He wasn’t taken by her looks or the charm that she was putting on, he was pleased by her blood, the rich scent that emanated from her being. It was a strong scent, surprisingly spicy, and Eldred, noting the strained look on his friend’s face, declared that he and Sanguini had to go speak to an old acquaintance.

It was then, as Eldred and Sanguini left Emilia standing alone, that the festive ambience was interrupted by shouting.

“Let me go, you oaf!” shouted Draco, earning the attention of his cousin.

“What is the meaning of this, Argus?” inquired Slughorn, moving towards Draco.

“Found this one sneaking around here, I did. Thought it was suspicious that he’d be lurking about at this time of hour so I went to ask what he was doing, and he says that ya invited him to the party, though I reckon that’s not true. Cuz if he was, he’d have had one of those invitations, everyone else was walking about with.” Filch replied, his hold on Draco’s jacket not loosening.

Slughorn stared at Draco in confusion. “I issued no invitation to Mr. Malfoy, but –”

“I invited him!” blurted out Emilia.

“You did?” Slughorn turned to look at her.

“I did.” She declared, stepping forwards. “Draco’s my guest. You did say we could bring someone along with us, so I invited my cousin.” She paused briefly, thinking of what to say next. “We were meant to arrive together, but he was running late, and I didn’t want to wait to come to the party. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks so I told him to meet me here and that I’d let him in. I'm sorry. I know I should’ve waited for him, but I was just so excited.” She lied. “I truly am sorry.”

“No need to apologize, my dear Miss Renner. Excitement always has a way of getting the best of us.” Slughorn redirected his attention to Filch. “Argus, do let Mr. Malfoy go.”

“I told you, I was a guest.” Draco growled as Filch let him go. “Millie,” he called to his cousin, fixing his jacket. “Pardon my tardiness. I meant to arrive sooner.”

“It’s alright Draco.” She suddenly became aware that everyone was staring at them. “Do you want to grab some punch?”

“Yes, punch would be brilliant. I'm quite parched after that fiasco.” He sent Filch one last scathing glare, before holding out his arm for her to take. “Lead the way, Millie.”

With a satisfied smirk on his face, Draco followed Emilia to the punch table, where he served them each a cup, before walking off towards a deserted corner. They stood there, pretending everything was fine, and avoiding the fact that Draco had tried to break into the party. All she wanted was to ask what he planned on doing, but there were too many people around, and even though they were by themselves in a corner, it was very likely that someone might eavesdrop on them. So they acted the part of festive cousins, and when it came time for a dance, he even led her onto the makeshift dance floor for a turn on it.

Draco was an exceedingly accomplished dancer, he moved with a lightness of foot that made Emilia think of her grandfather at those balls they used to frequent in America. It was strange to see Draco be so gentlemanlike, so refined, not that he wasn’t on a regular basis, Draco always seemed above the company, in his manners and taste, but this was the first moment when he didn’t seem to be trying to be better than everyone else, his dancing was natural, fluid, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as they danced. Emilia was happy to be dancing, she’d thought the evening was going to be a complete failure, but she was having an enjoyable enough time with Draco, she was just nervous to find out what business he had at the party, what reason he had for having tried to sneak into it. She’d have to ask him at some point, perhaps she’d follow him around after they returned to Slytherin Dungeon. But for the present, she’d enjoy herself. She’d dance, eat some sweets, and have a bit of punch.

“You dance beautifully.” Emilia complimented as they moved among their peers.

“I know.” Draco declared.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?” he asked, confused by the glare.

“You’re supposed to be a little gracious when someone compliments you. You’re not meant to say, I know. You’re supposed to say thank you and be a little humble.”

“Humble?” He nearly laughed. “Malfoys don’t do humble.”

“Oh, I guess not.” She grumbled. “But you ought to give it a try. It’s not so bad.”

“Hmm, I’d rather not.” He spun her. “There’s no point in pretending to have humility.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I know.” Draco smirked. “How much longer do you mean to stay?”

“You don’t even bother trying to bring that up politely.”

“I did bring it up politely.”

“If you say so,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe five more minutes? I just want to grab some sweets for Sally. And don’t you dare say anything about her. I won’t have you insulting her, not in front of me, at least.”

Draco visibly held back a remark, and then told her that they should make their way off the floor. He followed her towards the spread, and watched in silence as she loaded up on sweets. Once she had, they walked out the door, both planning on avoiding having to talk with anyone, but shortly after they left the office, Professor Snape followed them out.

“Draco.” Snape called to him, his voice not raising in tone, but still imposing enough to make its presence known.

“Keep walking,” whispered Draco to Emilia.

They didn’t make it much further before they were immobilized by Snape. With them frozen, Snape calmly made his way up to them, and with a flick of his wand, restored them to their former state. Draco, infuriated by Snape’s use of magic on him, immediately snapped. He went off on an angry rant, one whose poisonous words transformed his face into a menacing one that filled Emilia with distrust and had her unknowingly reaching for her wand, but before she could draw it against her cousin, Snape ordered for her to leave. She didn’t even think of protesting. After all the lessons that she’d had with Snape, she knew to trust him. So she did as she was told, and walked away, tempted to return with a Disillusionment Charm, but she didn’t act on the temptation, she had to follow orders.

And so she walked on, and when she reached the Slytherin dungeons, she took a seat on the couch from where she would wait for Draco to get back. She waited for what felt like an eternity, though in reality it was less than half an hour. When he walked in, his brows were narrowed and his face was a bright shade of red, knowing very well that something big had happened, she leapt to her feet.

“Draco,” she called his name gently. “What happened?”

“What happened?” His right brow began to twitch. “You want to bloody know what happened out there?” he asked, his voice sounding like that of a stranger.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then you don’t have to, but you don’t have to be such a jerk about it. I just want to be here for you.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.” She proclaimed defiantly. “I was there for you at the party, wasn’t I? I helped you out, got you out of trouble. And I didn’t even stop to think about what you were doing sneaking around there. It was instinctual to come to your aid.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” He growled.

“It means I'm there for you, you stupid ass.” She hissed. “So don’t come in here telling me that I can’t be here for you, because it’s not a question of my being able to, it’s a question of you letting me.”

“I'm not a stupid arse!” he cried, insulted. “You’re a stupid arse!”

“We’re both stupid asses!” she bellowed. “There, that any better?” she questioned, gruffly. “Look, I know you’re up to no good, Draco. I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t be so stressed out and grumpy if you weren’t. And I'm not asking you to let me know what the hell you’re doing as a Death Eater, I'm just asking you to let me be there for you so you don’t feel so fucking alone!”

“I don’t need anyone’s help!” he yelled, using the same line he’d just thrown at Snape. “I can do everything on my own.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“It’s working out fine!”

“Really?” she nearly scoffed. “Because it looks like you’re falling apart.”

“You bloody . . .” he didn’t finish his statement, he took out his wand, and before he was able to launch a spell, Emilia had already disarmed him. “What’s your bloody problem?!”

“My problem’s that I want to help you, and you’re so fucking thick that you won’t let anyone help! Look, I don’t know what the hell you and Snape were talking about, but whatever it was, it upset you and you’re being a hothead right now. But guess what? I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, I'm not Snape! So whatever anger and hostility you have towards him, just stop directing towards me, because I'm Emilia Renner. I'm your cousin, and you can trust me. For fucks sake, Draco! You can trust me. I just want to help you with you, not with any of the things you’re doing for that asshole. I don’t care for him or for the people in his organization, but I care about you. So stop being like this. Just stop.”

“It’s not that easy.” His look gradually softened. “It’s not that easy . . .”

She stepped towards him, taking slow, deliberate steps. “Why isn’t it?” she gently took his hands in hers.

“You’ve seen the mark. I’ve committed to . . . I’ve committed.” His look hardened. “And you know that. You know what I am.”

“It’s not who you are.” She whispered. “You don’t want to be that. You know you don’t.”

“I haven’t a choice.” He pulled away from her, letting his hands fall at his side. “I committed. That’s all there is to it.”