The Usual Suspects

It was over. I sobbed into Draco's chest, and he held me tight. The thunder had stopped. I couldn't hear the rain from this deep in the castle, but I knew the thunder had stopped, and that was enough.

"I've met your father," I said softly.

Draco pulled back. "When? Why didn't you say something?" I couldn't read whatever it was in his eyes.

I shook my head. "I don't think I remembered..." I pressed my palms to my eyes again. I felt sick.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

I looked up. "This has to do with everything, Draco!" I glared at him, and he was surprisingly silent. "I can't do this!"

"What?!" Draco was annoyed, to say the least. "What is wrong with you?"

I began to laugh. I'd asked him the same thing our first time together. I wiped tears from my cheeks and leaned against the stone wall behind me, stretching my legs out in front of me. My laughter faded, and I turned to look at Draco, who watched me curiously. "Tell me about becoming a Death Eater," I said.

Draco looked horrified.

"Tell me," I repeated. "Whose decision was it?"

Draco watched me a moment, judging, thinking. He heaved a sigh and leaned against the wall beside me. "Mine," he said.

"I thought you didn't have a choice."

He paused. "I didn't, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't still have happened." I nodded, though he probably didn't see. "It just happened sooner than I expected." He turned to look at me. "What does this have to do with my father?"

I stared across the corridor at the wall. "My father is a Death Eater," I said.

"What?"

"I walked into a meeting in my cellar when I was five."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I'd forgotten," I said simply. I guess I had done exactly what Father told me.

"How can you forget something like that?" Draco asked.

I shrugged. "They tortured my mother." Somehow it didn't hurt anymore. I was numb again.

Draco and I sat in silence, staring at the wall across from us. His hand slipped through mine and squeezed lightly.

"Everyone is going to know now."

"What?" Draco turned to me again, and I looked to see fear in his eyes.

"About us," I said, squeezing his hand. "I don't think the Quidditch team will keep quiet."

Realization spread through Draco's face, and he leaned back into the wall, laughing. "Fuck them," he said. "They can tell the whole school, for all I care."

I blinked at his language. Then I smiled. "Fuck them," I repeated. I looked at Draco, and he smiled too.

I pushed to my feet, and Draco stood as well. "My diary," I said, looking around.

"What?"

"I think I left it back on the Quidditch Pitch." I sighed heavily.

"I'll send Crabbe to get it later," he said.

"No, I have to have it," I argued.

"I don't think he could read it if he wanted to," Draco said, grabbing my hand.

"No, I want it now!" I jerked my hand out of Draco's and headed back the way we'd come.

Draco trotted after me. "Mary, wait! What aren't you telling me?"

I stormed on. "I have to write to my father. I have to know!"

"Know what?"

I stopped and spun on my heel. Draco nearly crashed into me. "My mother," I said through clenched teeth.

"She's dead, let her go."

I slapped Draco hard, my palm stinging with the force of it. Draco's eyes gleamed. A jolt of fear shot through me. "It's not that easy," I said, and turned again.

"I'm coming with you."

"Why?!" I asked, stopping again. "Why are you coming with me? Why do you even like me? I'm not worth it, Draco!"

"SHUT UP!" Draco yelled. My eyes widened. "Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Mary. You can either want me or not, but you can't have it both ways."

I sighed, leaning against the wall. I closed my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to will away a wave of tears. "I don't know how I blocked it out," I said softly. "Father told me to forget about it, and in the morning, Mum was quiet, and Father was quiet, and I don't think I even thought about it." Draco leaned beside me. "Mum was always quiet after that. I thought that was just the way she was." Minutes ticked by, and I lost myself in thought. "Maybe if I tell him I know, he'll tell me how she died."

Draco was silent a moment. "You don't think she kille..."

"I don't know what to think!" I pushed away from the wall. "I need that book," I said.

I headed back through the corridors and onto the lawns. Draco walked beside me to the changing rooms, and we went in together. The team was gone. Someone had brought in Draco's broom, and it was propped against his locker. My book was on a bench, the quill resting on top of it. I sighed with relief. I opened the book and placed the quill inside so I wouldn't lose it, and when it touched the page, it melted onto it, so that it looked like a sketch of a crow's feather.

I looked up. Draco had sat down with his broom and was checking it over. I looked back into the book and touched the sketch. The feather became solid again, and I picked it up. I glanced up at Draco, then back at the book, placing the quill inside. Again, it turned 2-dimensional, and I snapped the book shut. I was meant to have this.
Draco looked up at me and smiled tentatively. "Found it," I said.
Draco stood and opened his locker, standing his broom inside. He pulled off the pads on his legs and his Quidditch robes, tucking them inside as well, then closed the door and turned to me. "Do you want to be alone?" he asked.

I looked away and nodded. "Just for a while," I said, turning back to him.

He nodded and walked to me, lifting my face to his. "I'll see you after supper," he said, and I nodded again. He let me go and I turned, leaving for the dormitory.

It took me all of a minute to compose a letter to my father.

I remember that night. Tell me how mother died.

Mary

He wasn't the only one who could be vague and cruel.

I tore the page I'd written out of the diary and took the letter to the owlery, entrusting it to a sturdy school owl with strong wings. "This is for Eliot Terrell," I told the owl. "Find him quickly." The owl took the letter in its beak and soared out one of many windows into the gray sky.

Now, at this point, I know I had more thoughts swirling in my mind then I could possibly list. They fought for control, but I ignored them. I couldn't deal with this now.

I had told Draco I'd meet him after supper. I had hours alone with nothing to do. I went to look for Cho.

I found her with a group of Ravenclaw girls standing just outside the library. Perhaps I thought about pulling her aside, or maybe just calling to her. Perhaps the idea that I should just leave well enough alone flickered through my brain. However, what with everything else going on in my mind, those thoughts didn't make it onto my roster of things to do.

Instead, I walked right up to her, feeling smug and hateful all at once. "Still don't believe me yet?" I asked.

Cho looked at me stupidly.

"Little MarySue is just a nobody," I mocked. "She couldn't hope to attain someone like," I faked a gasp, "Draco Malfoy." I narrowed my eyes. "You're one hell of a friend," I said, and turned to storm away.

"Wait!" Cho ran up behind me, and I shook off her hand on my shoulder, whipping around to face her.

"No! You left me when I needed you!" Hot tears began to flow, and I yelled through them. "I needed you!" I wiped my sleeve across my face. "But I don't now," I added softly.

Cho stared, and I saw a trace of hurt in her eyes. It wasn't enough though. She had hurt me so bad, and this was all I got in return? "You've got Cedric," I said, sneering. "And I've got you. You're dead to me, Cho. Like my mother."

The moment tears shone in Cho's eyes, I felt a stabbing of pain in my chest. I wasn't sorry. I'd meant it, but it was as though I had insulted myself. Cho turned and ran away down the corridor, dropping her books as she turned the corner. Her friends looked at me in shock, and I shot them a glare before striding back the way I had come.

We were even now.