The Serpent Beneath

I had a strong believing that I wouldn't return. Yet, here I was, sitting on the same wooden bench I had a few months over a year ago. This place hadn't changed, though I had plenty enough. The castle walls were still dirty and grimy, the smell still reminded me of home. A home I missed greatly.

Unfortunately, this place was too much the same, and for that, I dreaded my final year. With a scowl on my face and a glare directed at no one in particular, I sat by myself surrounded by my former peers. Could I see past their snarly ways, I didn't know. It was always a wonder to myself why I had been placed in this lot of people.

Apparently the talking Hat knew something I didn't, and was quiet on letting me know exactly what. Difficult as returning was, I found that I hadn't fit in with any group in my 'family' and when trying to do so, the end resulted in a terrible mess and unhappy past on my behalf. I had belittled myself, and my family name. And for that, the Slytherins swore that I would pay for the damage done and for the lies spoken. And, then, when it was all said and done, when I finally began a new routine and found a place, I was thrown into the midst of being rejected by my one and only friend.

Draco had always been a large part of my life at Hogwarts. He had found a way to my weakness, and didn't use it against me, but tried to help me instead. He spoke great things about me, defended me, was there when I needed him most, and just when I thought that it was going to be okay — he wanted nothing to do with me.

Confused and scared, I left.

I didn't expect my sudden disappearance to cause any trouble for anyone. Fortunate on my behalf, it hadn't. With my problems behind me and my mind set narrowly on just finishing school so I could disappear again, I had high hopes that maybe, just maybe I could find myself once more.

A passing group of Slytherins stared down at me as I let my dark hair fall over my shoulder, creating a thick curtain.

Merlin, just kill me now—

I didn't have to worry about Draco anymore -- technically, he should be attending school but to my knowledge, Draco was no longer just an average wizard -- the Dark Mark etched beautifully into his left forearms, a mark my family had become all too familiar with.

It's not really all that complicated of a story: my mother had me out of wedlock -- due to the scandalous realization that my father was in fact already married. It was rare that Slytherin ever took in a half blood, yet here I was. Gave my mother quite the scare when I got my letter, she couldn't figure out for the life of her why her only daughter would be destined to a fate like her fathers; in her eyes, I was already too much like him.

What, with the dark hair and brown eyes, my mother said if she didn't know any better I might not have been hers at all. The imposing threat still remains -- in my fathers eye, I was an accident, a mistake and for the last two years, he's been trying to have me killed. That's why I lied. That's why I ran.

It's the only reason why for the last two years I hadn't gotten any sleep -- I was living in constant danger and with no one to turn to, my days were numbered -- it was only a matter of time before my past caught up with me.

I wouldn't necessarily say I was broken hearted over losing the closest thing to family I had left; Draco had always been a large part of my life since my arrival at Hogwarts. We had always had that love - hate relationship; at first, he and the others would laugh whenever I embarrassed myself, which, mind you was often. It shifted into daily torture -- I couldn't walk through the common room without he and the others commenting on my appearance. I no longer raised my hand to answer questions in class and spent all of my time in the library and Prefects bathroom. I wasn't too fond of Myrtle, but escaping from the world carried it's own price.

It wasn't until my fifth year that Draco noticed I had stopped attending meals -- and by sheer luck or chance, he was the one to stumble upon my limp body while on his way to the Quidditch pitch. During the beginning of the sixth year, we were nearly inseparable. It was obvious there were things bothering him -- things he couldn't discuss with me, but I never pried. It was when things were getting hard did he begin to push me away.

"Mitkova -- is that you?"

Perhaps over the last two years, there was one individual in particular that I did stay in touch with. I had never fancied Pansy, however Blaise was someone I had begun to get along with. He didn't know much of my past, nor did I know any of his and we intended to keep it that way. I merely explained to him that I no longer saw myself fit study anymore -- which, mind you, confused him greatly because no one apart from Draco and the Professors knew of my status.

"The very same." I knew I had grown over the last year, but I didn't suspect I had changed much.

The young male slid onto the bench across from me, arms folded over each other. Blaise, too, kept to himself. He was quiet and reserved -- and unlike many of the other, took no part in the taunting throughout my preteen years. However, he was still very much like the rest of Slytherin -- opposed to all Muggle-borns and blood traitors. "It was hard to recognize you -- you've definitely changed, Katerina."

"I suppose we've all grown over the last year, but please, do enlighten me."

He gave a short laugh, clearing his throat as he leaned forward, "For starters, your hair isn't as ghastly as it used to be. Also, your facial structure is more prominent -- honestly, woman, do you even look in a mirror."

I shrugged curtly, raising my eyes. "Here and there -- I always thought it would be best if I just rolled out of bed in the morning." This wasn't entirely true. Since my return to Hogwarts, I vowed that I would make things different. I spent time keeping up with my physical appearance; I had to ensure that my hair fell into place perfectly and that my face steered clear from all visible blemishes. "People change, Zabini."

"Some more than others."

The voice no longer belonged to Blaise -- the throaty undertone of the male across from me was now replaced by a voice that was far more cold and curt -- a voice that once had brought tears to my eyes but had also offered me comfort.

"What brings you back, Katerina."

"Katherine," I corrected, flipping another page in my book as I looked down. I had always hated the way Katerina rolled of his tongue so effortlessly, as if it belonged to him in such a way that he practiced pronouncing it every morning to near perfection. Unlike many others, Draco made an effort to add in the accent; considering my fathers background was in fact Bulgarian, it was technically the proper way to be pronounced, still, I loathed it. "It's none of your business, I can assure you."

He snorted, resting a hand on my shoulder. "We need to have a word." It wasn't a sort of invitation, or even a topic that were debatable. This was simply his way of not giving me choice -- unfortunately for him, I no longer obliged to a word he had to say.

"Fat chance," I muttered, pressing my lips into a tight line for a moment before breathing out slowly. "I won't tolerate being pushed around -- if you have something to say, say it, Draco."

Silence fell for a brief moment before his lips were at my ear. I clutched the book tightly, jaw locking squarely as he spoke, "Meet me in the Prefects bathroom in ten minutes -- I'm not giving you a choice."

His footsteps retreated just as many other students began to fill the dining hall -- it was only then did I look up at Blaise, "What?"

He raised his hands off the table in a manner that might've said 'nothing', but I knew all too well that Blaise often enjoyed depicting the truth apart from a situation.

"There's absolutely nothing going on -- he abandoned me, remember?"

The male nodded, finger absently drawing patterns on the table, "I just don't understand why you're still going to let him push you around."

"I'm not." I said quickly, slamming the book shut. "I'll be dammed if this year I'm going to let some silly little git control my life -- not anymore." I was rushing now -- I didn't know why, but suddenly I was throwing my books hastily into my parcel before Blaise could say anything. "He needs someone to talk to? Fine. Lay it on me but I am not, repeat not going to be pushed around by the likes of Draco Malfoy."