Scars

Two weeks into school, and Eliza already felt like she was drowning. Every class she had a new essay or slew of readings assigned, and on top of all that, she had detention twice a week. Sleep was hard to come by these days. So far, the detentions hadn’t been terrible; shining silver in the trophy room had been the worst. She avoided talking to Malfoy as much as possible, not that he was actually looking for conversation. Every time he spoke, he either had something rude to say or merely grunted, so Eliza just stopped trying all together eventually.

Currently, she was studying with Ginny and Hermione in the library. She had an essay on Polyjuice Potions due Thursday, and with detention tomorrow night, she knew tonight was her best option to get it done. Of course, Hermione was already finished. She actually allowed Eliza to use hers as a reference, as long as she promised not to copy anything. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, Hermione knew a lot about Polyjuice Potion. Way more than the text book outlined, and Eliza needed all the help she could get. She was rubbish at potions. Even when she followed a recipe word for word, her potions never came out perfect.

“How long do the effects last?” Eliza asked. Hermione glanced up from her notes.

“Anywhere from 10 minutes to 12 hours.”

“I would assume most potions last longer than that, right? 10 minutes? That seems like a waste for a potion that takes a month to make.”

“I-I have no idea.” Hermione muttered nervously.

Eliza raised a brow. “Don’t you think, though?”

Ginny was interested now. Hermione knew the answer to everything, so her hesitations and stuttering were reasons to cause attention.

“You must have an opinion.” Ginny said, eyeing her friend questionably.

“There’s no way to know. Not unless you tried it out yourself, but if I had to guess, I would think a typical Polyjuice Potion lasts longer than 10 minutes. The effects would probably start to wear off after a couple hours. Yes, they definitely wouldn’t stop all at once. But these are just guesses. Like I said, you wouldn’t actually be able to know-”

“Hey ladies,” Harry interrupted. He and Ron seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and they looked way too happy for two sixth years. Eliza and her friends looked stressed and tired all the time. There was no escaping it---unless you were Harry Potter or Ron Weasley, apparently.

“Hey,” Hermione said a little too excitedly, gesturing for them to sit down. Ron did as she asked and sat beside his sister. Harry moved closer to Eliza but didn’t sit down.

“Liza,” Harry said, a tinge of urgency in his voice. He placed a hand on her shoulder and bent over. “Can I talk to you?”

She arched a brow. “Of c-course.”

“Privately,” he mouthed, and she nodded quickly before standing up. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her aside. Her stomach was doing somersaults. She had not a single clue what he wanted.

Eliza considered herself friends with Harry. They’d spent quite a few summers and holidays together at the Burrow; he was basically a part of her family. Yet, in all that time, she couldn’t recall a single time they’d had a private conversation. Harry always had a lot going on and didn’t trust anyone outside of Ron and Hermione. Eliza wasn’t the type to force her way into conversations like Susan or Hannah might, so whenever her cousin and his mates huddled together and started talking in hushed whispers, she searched for something else to do, no questions asked. So now, she found herself in unchartered territory. Suddenly, Harry was looking at her the same way he would Ron or Hermione. He was looking at her as if whatever he had to say was life or death.

“You’re in detention with Malfoy, right?”

She nodded. So far, she had no idea where this conversation was going.

“Has he been acting…suspicious?”

Eliza furrowed her brows. She wasn’t sure what his definition of suspicious was, but Malfoy didn’t seem out of the ordinary. Malfoy was just… Malfoy: a spoiled, arrogant prick.

“No,” she said, and his face fell, her answer clearly disappointing him. Her stomach tightened. “I mean, we don’t really talk.”

“Have you noticed any markings on his arm?”

Eliza shook her head. She hadn’t been paying Malfoy that much attention, honestly. She definitely didn’t remember seeing any markings on his arm. In fact, she could have sworn he always wore his sleeves down…

Harry sucked in his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He seemed agitated. She wasn’t sure what type of answers he was looking for, but obviously she didn’t have them.

“Harry,” she said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe, if you tell me what’s going on, I can be more help.”

He looked at her straight in the eyes; it felt like he was trying to decide if he could trust her not. She wished he would. Eliza felt like she owed him. Despite creating the D.A. last year, and risking expulsion to teach her, among several others, how to defend themselves against dark magic, he was also personally fighting a war against the most infamous wizard of all time. He was a hero, and she would do whatever she could to help him.

He moved closer to her. Their faces practically touching. “I have reason to believe Malfoy is a Death Eater.”

Her eyes widened. She couldn’t hide her shock. Malfoy was by no means a good person, but a Death Eater? He was only 16! That seemed a little too far-fetched.

“Oh.” There wasn’t anything else she could say. She didn’t have any classified information. Malfoy had barely muttered 10 words to her since their first detention. She was in no position to judge whether or not he was a Death Eater.

“How often do you have detention?” he asked.

“Wednesday nights and Sundays.”

“That’s quite a lot of time…to spend with one person.”

Eliza nodded. Again, she had no idea where the conversation was going. “I-I guess.”

“Do you think you could-” he paused, rethinking his question.

“I could what?” she asked. She needed to know what he wanted. She wanted to help.

“Would you be willing to…watch him…and talk to him? See if you notice anything out of the ordinary—something that would reveal he’s a Death Eater?”

Eliza was completely caught off guard. He wanted her to spy on Draco Malfoy. She didn’t have a single elusive or cunning bone in her body. He would figure it out right away. She had to say no.

“Please, Liza. It would mean so much to me.”

“Sure, okay.”

His eyes lit up. She had no idea where those words came from or why they left her mouth. She wanted to say no, she needed to tell him she couldn’t do it, but the words wouldn’t come. He was looking at her like she’d just given him the best news of his life, and she couldn’t deny him of that.

“I can’t promise that anything will come of it. He pretty much ignores me whenever I talk…” She said, but he didn’t seem to care.

He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Any bit of information is fine. Thank you so much for doing this.”

She forced a smile. “No problem.”

Eliza decided not to tell her friends about what Harry had asked her. She figured if she had any chance of success, she needed to keep his request to herself. The less anyone knew, the better. She wasn’t very confident anything would come from her snooping, though. She was a terrible liar, and didn’t have the slightest clue how to manipulate information out of people. And if he was a Death Eater, what then? If he found out she was spying on him he might kill her! Really, she had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. Before this year, Eliza had spent her time completely off everyone’s radars, but that was definitely not the case anymore, and she felt very upset because of it. Life was so much easier when she was just another Hufflepuff girl, and now she was a part of the ‘Chosen One’s’ master plan. She missed the simple life, but it was so far out of her reach now. There was no going back.