Sequel: Call Me Professor ›
Status: (completed)
Colour Me Slytherin
Colour Me Slytherin -Draco Malfoy Story #35
You hadn’t done much over the past few days. Actually, you had pretty well confined yourself to your room. You were unwilling to deal with the reality of home life, and never being able to see Fred again. Three times a day your mother would bring food up to your room, and leave it outside your door, and occasionally you would pick at it, not feeling particularly hungry. Every night as you were laying in your bed waiting for sleep, you were plagued by nightmares of the battle at Hogwarts. More than once you woke up to find yourself screaming ‘No, Fred, please, stop joking.’ or ‘Wake up Fred, please…’
Your parents were at a loss on how to deal with the night screaming. They only hoped you would stop eventually, but somehow they doubted that. It wasn’t until the Malfoy family had come to visit, that they had an idea.
“Where is Alice?” Narcissa asked, taking a sweeping look around the dining room, where they frequented.
Narin, your mother, gave Narcissa a small, sad smile. “She hasn’t left her room since the battle…” she murmured.
Draco casted a wary glance towards his mother, she seemed the share Narin’s feelings.
“We were hoping…” your mother started, glancing at Draco, “that maybe, Draco could possibly get her to come out?”
“Draco, dear?” Narcissa asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, silently telling him to go to your room.
“I’ll try…” he shrugged, standing up, and leaving the room.
As soon as Draco left the dining room, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was obvious that you were completely distraught about loosing Fred, but, to exile yourself to your room? He walked along the corridors, taking two rights, he stumbled upon a door with a plaque on it, in neat handwriting the name ‘Alice’ was engraved. Gently he knocked on the door, and waited.
You could hear a knock on your door, that was something new. Your mom had taken to just making a good chunk of noise while she left food for you. You glanced over your shoulder towards the door, but decided to ignore it.
Draco knocked once more, growing slightly impatient. If you did not respond this time, he would just walk in.
You turned to your other side, so your back was no longer facing the door. Looking at it curiously, you got up, and creaked the door open just a slither. You were astonished to see a white blonde head of hair, and piercing grey eyes staring back at you. Your voice caught in your throat, not used to being used.
“Alice?” Draco asked, staring at the small slither of you he could see through the crack in the door. “Let me in…”
You stared at him for a moment, but then closed the door in his face. You collapsed on your bed once more, and curled into a tight ball on the opposite edge, furthest away from the door.
Draco sighed, but let himself into the room anyway. He took a seat on the edge of your bed, and stared at your turned back. “Alice….” he began softly.
“Why’d you do it?” you asked, your voice hoarse with lack of use. “Why’d you stop me from fighting Voldemort?” the scene was fresh in your mind. Neville’s head was ablaze, along with the Sorting Hat, when you went to grab your wand, you felt a hand take your own to stop you from duelling Voldemort. You could see a streak of white blonde out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned to get a good look, it was gone. You had come to the conclusion that it was Draco that stopped you from retrieving your wand.
Draco stared at you for a moment, “I didn’t want you to die…” he responded quietly.
You turned to look at Draco, your eyes had massive bags under them, and were red and puffy. Your complexion was pale, and drained. You could see the slight sense of concern in his features as he gazed at you. Slowly you rolled onto your side, and faced Draco.
Draco had changed ever since Voldemort’s downfall. He was nicer, not as harsh, and he wasn’t constantly feeling the pressure to live up to his parents reputation of being death eaters.
“You’ve changed…” Alice murmured, staring into the grey eyes across from her. They didn’t have the coldness, or distance they once had before.
Draco smirked a little, bemused, “how so?” he asked gently, unsure whether or not it would be okay for him to reach out and hold your hand, or something like that.
“You’re nicer…” you stated flatly, feeling a smile, a genuine smile, pull at your lips.
“How do you figure?” Draco asked, raising his eyebrow at you, starting to feel a little devilish.
You shrugged, and just watched him. He didn’t have his air of arrogance around him any more, he seemed more calm.
A small evil smirk formed on Draco’s lips, “would a nice person do this?” he asked, reaching out and pulling you towards him, tickling you. It was the only thing he could think of that he could get away with without being murdered.
Your eyes opened wide with shock, and you squirmed to get away. There was a memory that flashed by in your mind, Fred had pinned you during training, and he tickled you like this. You felt tears brim your eyes, and then fall.
Draco felt something wet fall onto his hands, and glanced at your face, to see tears falling. Immediately he stopped, “Alice?” he asked, unsure of what to do.
You rotated in Draco’s arms. Leaning into his shoulder, you cried. All the small things reminded you of Fred.
Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and brought his hand up to stroke your hair gently. “It’s okay…” he whispered quietly, holding you to him, letting you cry on his shoulder. This was the first time he has ever seen you cry, and no doubt it had something to do with Fred Weasley.
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You weren’t sure, exactly, how long you were crying on Draco’s shoulder, but by the time you had managed to calm down, the sun had already started setting.
“Feeling better?” Draco asked quietly, his arm draped loosely around your waist, while his other hand rested beside him on the bed.
“Sorry…” you mumbled, you tried to pull yourself away from Draco.
Draco gave you a look, and hugged you back to him, stroking your hair once more. “It’s okay…” he murmured, “you miss him, don’t you?”
You fought the tears trying to overspill once more. Unable to answer him without crying, you nodded your head.
Draco smiled sadly, continuing to stroke your hair, “you’ll be okay….”
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You awoke the next morning feeling warm and comfortable, and for once, your eyes didn’t feel dry from crying so much. Today felt like it would be a good day. It appeared that you had fallen asleep on Draco, but he left with his parents that night. Looking towards your night stand for the bottle of water you had sitting there, you saw a small note, scribbled in the unfamiliar handwriting.
‘I dare you to go outside’ was all that it read. A simple task in fact. But first, a shower was needed.
You finished applying the last few touches to your natural makeup, and had gotten dressed. With a quick turn you disapparated. You appeared a moment later, and walked up a long path towards a house that, if not held up by magic, looked like it would have fallen over. Reaching the door, you knocked and was greeted by a stout red headed woman, who held her arms open.
“Molly.” you smiled. You could feel the strain in your cheeks, smiling was definitely something you have not been doing lately.
“Oh, Alice dear, how are you?” she asked, bustling over into the kitchen, while you took a seat at the table.
“Ah, well, you know…” you shrugged, hoping the vague description would be enough for her, “how are you?”
Molly smiled back at you, you could tell she was still hurting from the loss of Fred, but who wasn’t? It was definitely something that takes time to get over. “I’ve been well. Have you eaten breakfast?” she asked, turning once more to the bacon that was now placing itself on a plate.
You shook your head slowly, now that you thought of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you ate. As you tried to remember the last time you ate something, your stomach let out a low growl, as if pleading for you to fill it with something.
Everyone in the Burrow had joined the dining table, except for one.
Molly sighed, casting a look at George’s empty seat. Placing some breakfast foods on the plate she was about to send it up to him magically.
“I’ll take it up to him…” you offered, you had a feeling George was as devastated, if not more, than you were at Fred’s death.
Mr. Weasley smiled at you, you could see the hollowness of the smile, but didn’t mind.
Climbing the familiar stairs, you knocked on George’s door lightly, the small enchanted plaque that inscribed “Fred and George” still hung on the door. You could hear shuffling inside, but no answer. “Georgie, I’m coming in.” you said simply, pushing the door, and walking into the room. The sight that greeted you was shocking, to say the least.
George was laying on his bed, facing Fred’s. It had not been made since the last time Fred had slept in it. Nobody dared to touch it. George’s eyes were vacant, a little red and puffy from crying, and glossy.
You sat at the end of his bed, and put the plate of food on his bedside table. “Hey….” you murmured quietly, but gained no response. “George Weasley, look at me.” you growled.
George turned to look at you, a little shocked with the tone you took with him.
“Eat, then we’re going for a walk.” you said, snipping off the end so there would be no need for discussion. You watched him pointedly, as he spooned a mouth full of eggs and bacon into his mouth.
You had realized, after last night with Draco, locking yourself away in your room was doing no one any good. Yes, it was hard to do, but you had to move on from Fred Weasley, and so did George.
George had put the plate down on the table, and then looked at you for a moment. It was obvious, that, even though you looked put together, you were hurting from the loss as well.
“Well, come on…” you said, holding your hand out. You wanted to take George somewhere special.
Cautiously George took your hand, and within seconds he could feel the squeezing on his lungs as you apparated.
Your feet landed in the soft grass and stared out into the open waters of an inviting lake. “I used to come here a lot…” you said quietly, taking a seat on a stone that sat under a sakura tree, which was in full bloom.
George only stared at you, the girl his brother was so crazy for, the one that sat before him, unknowingly bewitching him as blossom petals fell through the air in the light breeze.
You patted the rock beside you, signalling George to come and sit. To your surprise, he came over without hesitation, and took a seat on the rock next to you. You barely shifted to look at him, “What’s on your mind, Georgie?” you asked gently, leaning back onto your arms.
George knew this was coming, you had warned him earlier at Fred’s funeral, that you were going to come by and check on him. “How do you just forget him?” he asked, his voice cracked from lack of use, and he sounded a bit more harsh than he had meant.
You looked at George, your gaze hardening for a moment, “I haven’t.” your voice was barely audible. “There isn’t a night that goes by, where I don’t see him dying.”
“How do you get over it?” George asked, his voice was slowly becoming accustom to being used again.
You closed your eyes and smiled for a moment, your hand brushing the German tattoo on your ribs. “I don’t think you ever do…. You just learn to deal with it….” You were hoping your answers were satisfying George’s needs. “I know you miss him, but you can’t lock yourself away in your room… He wouldn’t have wanted that…” you added quietly, not only were you thinking about George, but you were thinking about yourself, how you have been acting since the funeral.
“How would you know what he wanted?” George asked, feeling an anger rise up in him. He was Fred’s brother, his twin, he of all people should know how Fred felted, what he wanted.
You held George’s gaze sternly. “You think Fred would want both of your hard work to go to waste? Let your shop close? Let his brother waste away in his depression in his mothers house? I do not believe that he would have wanted that, George. He would have wanted you to make people laugh, carry on what the both of you started.”
George scoffed, “you think you knew Fred, in the year that you were dating him? I knew him my whole life.”
“I knew a different side of Fred.” you stated calmly. This was the outburst George needed to be able to help himself move on.
George punched the tree near him, and glared down at you. “I knew all sides of Fred.” he growled. Standing, he advanced on you.
You held your gaze steadily, “are you going to fight me?” you asked gently, a small smirk playing onto your features.
George did not answer, but swung blindly at you. At the rage, sadness, and emptiness from Fred dying was leading him into this fight.
You easily dodged George’s swinging fists.
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George and yourself lay on the ground, George was covered in sweat, and trying to catch his breath while you lay there quietly, there wasn’t a scratch on you.
“Feel better?” you asked kindly, turning your head to look at George.
George only grunted in response, he had screamed, yelled, and carried on like a five year old in a bad tantrum, yet you did not lay a single blow on him.
“I know it’s hard to get over, but you really will be okay, George…” you said quietly, pulling yourself, then him up. Turning on the spot you disapparated, returning George to the Burrow. “Go down stairs, talk to your mum, and dad… Spend time with the rest of your family, they’re worried about you.”
Almost as quickly as you said it, you disapparated again, returning to your own mansion. Creaking your bed room door open, you walked down into the dining room where you could hear familiar voices laughing, and enjoying a pleasant conversation.
♠ ♠ ♠
Another cliffhanger... The sequel would be out soon..
~Zhel
~Zhel