Becoming Corruption

“Three hundred and thirty six, three hundred and thirty seven,” I muttered under my breath, ignoring the ache in my leg muscles as I willed myself to continue. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears, and my ribs ached just a little from where I’d broken them last month.

“Three hundred and thirty eight,” I breathed as a wave of dizziness swept through me. My arms hung uselessly, feeling like slabs of jello; my fingers brushed the floor. My back was aching, and I really wanted nothing more than to call it quits. But I was so close to beating my record… I’d begun to sweat, and the backs of my knees were growing damp. Just as I began to say the next number, I felt my legs slip, and I let out a cry of surprise as I toppled to the ground.

Lying awkwardly on my side, I glanced up at the railing of the bunk bed with disdain as I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. Nearly Headless Nick let out a rumbling laugh as I pushed myself to my feet, straightening my shorts and shirt.

“Stop laughing and tell me if that counted as another sit up,” I demanded playfully, jamming my hands on my hips; my ribs twinged a bit, but I figured that was just from the fall. They’d never really healed right, seeing as I didn’t exactly obey Madame Pomphrey’s “no strenuous activities” rule.

“That really shouldn’t count as one,” he said reasonably with a shrug of his shoulders. “You weren’t more than halfway through saying the number, so we round down, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Damn it, I got to three hundred and forty last time,” I sighed, rubbing the shoulder that I landed on tenderly as Nearly Headless Nick asked,

“Up for another round?”

“I need a break,” I told him, plopping down on my mattress. “The blood’s still rushing to my head.”

“Well when you’re quite ready just come and find me,” he said, giving me a low bow as he floated out of the room. I dropped my head back onto my mattress, missing the wall this time, and sighed. Though having the castle practically to myself had been nice the first few days, I was rapidly running out of things to do. Nearly everyone had gone home for the holidays; Hermione had accompanied Ron and Harry back to the Weasley house (along with the rest of the ginger crew) leaving me alone.

At Beauxbatons, we weren’t allowed to go home until the end of the school year, which was June 1st. So, sticking to tradition, I’d decided not to go home. And besides, if I left Hogwarts I wasn’t sure if my father would ever let me come back.

I’d seen Draco the day before last, but that hadn’t surprised me. Our family really wasn’t the ‘gather round the fireplace and open presents while smiling and sharing fond memories’ type of household. What had surprised me was just how sickly Draco was beginning to look. His once sleek blonde hair was dull and lackluster; his cheeks were sunken in a bit, and he had terrible bags beneath his eyes. He pretty much looked like a walking cadaver.

No matter how horribly he treated me, he was my brother, and I worried about him. I’d had every intention of cornering him and forcing him into talking, but he was rather good at ignoring me, and I hadn’t seen him since.

It was eleven at night on December 24th, and let me tell you, Christmas really sucked when you spent it alone in the dorms of an empty school. I’d sent my mum and father their presents earlier this morning to make sure our owl would deliver them on time. I’d been waiting for him to return all day when I met Nearly Headless Nick, who had challenged me to beat the Hogwarts record of hanging upside down by your legs.

The record was four hundred and thirteen, and I still hadn’t broken it, despite going at it all day. But now I was feeling just a bit too unstable – and slightly nauseous – to continue right away, so I relented to lay on my bunk and take a few deep breaths to keep from upchucking my dinner.

I’ll just go to sleep, how about that? I thought to myself, turning and stretching out across my bed. Sleep makes everything go by faster.

And so, I forced myself to stay in that god forsaken bed for nearly forty five minutes, trying my best to fall asleep. And after tossing and turning relentlessly, I finally admitted that I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep just yet.

And that was how I found myself, two hours later, wandering the castle halls at two AM Christmas morning. In nothing but a pair of cotton shorts and an old tank top, I was relatively chilled, but it was nice to be able to walk around without the dozens of dirty looks, or the insane crowds in the corridors. I was reveling in being alone, enjoying the crisp smell of winter mingled with the ancient smell of Hogwarts when I turned the corner and saw my brother slumped against the wall, his head leaning back against the bricks with his eyes shut.

I paused for a moment as my brain whirled into action, trying to think of what to do. Did I just keep walking and ignore the pompous git after all he said to me, or did I join my brother in his most likely self-inflicted sufferings?

Sweeping my bangs out of my eyes, I shrugged to myself and started walking again, this time down the hall where my brother was resting. If he heard me approach him, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move as I quietly sank to the ground beside him, and if I hadn’t seen his chest rising and falling ever so slightly, I’d have been mildly concerned.

We sat like that for a long time; I kept my hands folded in my lap and my eyes fixed straight ahead as I waited for Draco to come back to life. Finally, after ages of silence, he said,

“You have this funny way of showing up at the exact moment I want nothing to do with you, you know that?”

His voice didn’t hold any malice or sarcasm; he seemed tired, almost empty. Without turning my head towards him, I gave a half-hearted shrug.

“It’s a talent, I suppose. Might come in handy someday.”

“Did mother send you a letter?”

I shook my head.

“I wasn’t expecting one, though, so it’s really not a bother.”

“Here,” Draco said as a rustling noise caught my attention.

And then he pressed a folded piece of parchment into the crook of my elbow. Glancing down, I pulled it out and unfolded it.

Draco,
Happy Christmas. These are from your father and I. Make sure to give your sister a few. Stay out of trouble.
Love,
Mother

“Three guesses which kind of candy she sent,” Draco said; and I turned to him when I caught the hint of a joke in his voice. Though he wouldn’t look at me, I could see the sardonic gleam in his eyes.

“My first guess would be chocolate covered cherries, because I’ve been telling her they’re my favorite ever since I could talk,” I mused; the corner of Draco’s lip quirked. “My second guess would be anything with caramel in it, because who doesn’t like caramel?”

Both sides of Draco’s lips twisted up now in his usual smirk, but it was better than usual because it wasn’t directed at me.

“However, I’ll go with my third guess of hazelnut toffees, because they’re the one sweet I’m severely allergic to, hence the only one I can’t eat.”

“I went ahead and gave them to Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco sighed. “They’ve never been my favorite.”

With that, we both fell into silence. We’d thoroughly inherited our family’s social skills, so its no wonder we nearly never talked. Finally, just to break the silence, I said,

“I didn’t get you a present.”

There was the soft scrape of fabric as Draco turned his head towards me. In the moonlight, I caught the sharp angles of his face, even more accentuated from the sunken cheekbones.

“I didn’t either.”

“Well, happy Christmas,” I told him with a half smile. Though he didn’t smile back, exactly, he nodded and said,

“Happy Christmas.”

We fell into silence again, which didn’t seem to bother either of us. At least half an hour passed with the two of us sitting there, side by side but not touching, staring straight ahead with our hands in our laps. While we sat in silence, thoughts raced through my head. Not wanting to be quiet anymore, I voiced the current contemplation in my head.

“Will you ever tell me what you’re up to?”

Draco sighed; I knew he didn’t want to talk about this, but we really had nothing else to discuss.

“No.”

“Well, can you at least stop being such a prick to me?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the edge of his lip twitch.

“No.”

I cracked a smile; at least some things never changed. My butt was sore from sitting on the ground so long, and I was beginning to grow tired.

“Well then,” I said, getting to my feet and brushing my shorts off. “I’m off to bed.”

Draco was silent as I stretched and then began to meander back the way I came.

“Rowan,” he called, just before I turned the corner. I paused and glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. He was still on the ground, and I could see the gleam of his grey-blue eyes from the moonlight. For a moment, he said nothing. And then, as I was getting ready to keep walking, he said simply,

“I haven’t told father you’re on the Quidditch team.”

Draco and I stayed silent, our eyes locked with one another; Draco turned his face away and leaned his head back against the wall. I continued back to the Gryffindor common room without speaking a word.

That had been the best present I could have hoped for.