Another Year at Hogwarts

After Ron left, I returned to the inn where Draco was supposed to be. It was a small inn, but it nice and warm inside. It had a cozy feeling, despite the dull earthly colors.

“Excuse me,” I said as I went to the front counter, where an elderly man was sitting. “I’m looking for someone. His name is Draco Malfoy. He should have checked in an hour or so, ago.”

“The tall, pale boy with platinum hair?” the old man asked.

“Yes, that’s him,” I smiled. “Do you know which room I can find him in?”

“He’s sitting over there in the dining area,” the old man said while pointing me in the direction.

“Thank you,” I smiled before walking away.

I walked in the direction the man had gestured, and found the dining room. And just as he said, Draco was in there all right—along with many other people ranging from teenagers to seniors. I automatically assumed that these people were probably runaways; people hiding from the Dark Lord and Snatchers.

I made my way over to where Draco was, and stood in front of his table as he stared out the window into the snowy night. On the table was two plates of untouched food and glasses of empty butterbeer.

“Draco?” I whispered.

“You’re back,” he said without looking about me. “Well, sit down.”

“Have you been drinking?” I asked as I look a seat across from him.

“Just a bit,” he answered as he turned away from the window and down at his plate of food. “I ordered us some food, in case you were hungry.”

“You didn’t have to,” I replied. “But I do appreciate the thought…so…thanks.”

Draco looked up at me with a cocked an eyebrow. “You…you’re a lot more polite today than…well, any other day, you know?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You can barely stand looking at me, any other day. But today…not only have you spent an entire day with me, but you actually said ‘please’ to me, and thanked—”

“If you don’t stop right now, I’ll never say any of that to you again,” I interrupted.

Draco smirked, but remained silent. His gaze rested on me, and the smirked on his face remained all the while.

“This conversation…” Draco said, “it reminds me of a conversation I once had with someone else…with Violet.”

I felt my body tense up the moment he mentioned my name.

“You, Victoria, remind me of Violet…a lot,” Draco said while looking down at the ring on his hand. “You two…you two are very similar. You two share a similar look when you’re angry, or at least trying to be angry. You’re initials are VB, just like her. You’re quick witted and charming, just as she is. And it’s very strange that you have violet eyes…” Draco said while gazing deeply into my eyes. “And it’s strange how you make me feel like this…”

“Feel like what?” I asked, trying to contain my nerves.

“When I’m with you, I feel as though I’m with Violet,” Draco said as a weak grin. “Especially right now…” Draco said as he reached his hand over and placed it over mine.

“W—what are you doing?” I hesitantly asked.

“Last year…before break, Violet and I went to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It’s very similar to how you and I are now.”

“What are you getting at, Draco?”

“Is your name really Victoria Baker?” Draco asked—his eyes flicked up and caught mine by surprise.

I hesitantly stared back into his, trying my best to hide the fear that I felt. How? I wondered. How does he know? Did he see me reveal myself to Ron at the pub?

“Tell me,” Draco whispered.

“You’re drunk, Draco,” I said as I tried to pull my hand away, but Draco won’t let me go.

“Is your name really Victoria Baker, or is it Violet Bell?” he asked.

“You’re obviously drunk and talking nonsense,” I repeated. “We should…um…head to bed, okay?”

“No! Tell me if you are Violet!” he bellowed. “Answer me! Are you Violet Bell?”

“Violet Bell is dead, Draco!” I snapped. “She is dead, so how can I possibly be Violet Bell if she is dead?” I asked.

“Violet isn’t dead—”

“Yes she is!” I replied. “It was in all the papers! You were there yourself; you know that she’s dead!”

“Violet is not dead!” Draco shouted as he slammed his hand down onto the table.

“Is there a problem here?” a server asked as they walked by.

“Oh, no,” I quickly replied while turning to the server. I looked nervously from the server to Draco as I went on to explain that Draco simply had too many butterbeers.

“Oh, all right then,” the server said before walking away.

I immediately turned my attention back to Draco and whispered, “You have to stop this Draco. You are…obsessed! I—I know cared deeply for her, but Violet Bell is not alive anymore, and you have to accept that fact!”

“She is alive,” Draco repeated, this time calmer than before. “She has to be… You—you have to be her. If not, then why do I feel this way towards you, Victoria? You…you remind me so much of her—of Violet.”

“Violet Bell,” I said trying to hold back my tears, “she is dead, and the world knows that. You attach yourself to me because of the similarities I have with Violet, and over time, because of these similarities, you believe yourself to be in love with me. But you are not. You are not in love with Victoria Baker.” Slowly, I reached my hand out and took hold of his hand. I looked sternly into his eyes as I said, “You have convinced yourself that I am her, in order to keep some part of Violet alive. But I am not Violet, and you cannot keep her alive through me, Draco. It is unfair to you and me. So please, just let her go.”

“How…how can I let her go?” Draco asked as he reached up and placed his warm hand on my cheek. Slowly, he brought his face, closer and closer to mine, and I could feel my heart begin to beat faster and faster. He then closed his eyes, and with a heavy sigh, rested his forehead upon mine. “How can you tell me to let her go, when you’re right here in front of me, Violet?”