Here's the last part for the fifth year!
Disclaimer: If you have been reading the other posts, you'd know the drill. I don't own anything. If you read the other parts, you'd know to whom Ebony Riddle and Ingrid Ariola belong. So get on with it.
After that Hogsmeade trip, news of what happened to Xandra spread like wildfire. Students were alarmed. However, Professor Dolores Umbridge assured them the next morning that everything was fine; there was no need to fret. For the last few months, Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry of Magic had been trying to suppress the news that the darkest wizard of all times was again back in action. Incidents like that of Xandra’s accident were easily brushed off because they refuse to believe that Dark Lord was back and even if they did, Xandra’s accident seemed to hold no relevance to the Dark Lord’s rise to power. This seemed to appease the anxiety that was caused by that incident.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were dropping by the Hospital Wing constantly to see if Xandra had woken up already. Millicent, too, since she felt partly responsible to what happened to Xandra. Hermione assured her, however, that Xandra wouldn’t want her to blame herself. She’d swing by usually at supper time. Draco was the only one who had the permission to stay during the night. He’d drop by, too, in between classes and during his free time. And after supper, he’d go back to the dungeons to get some of his stuff then head back to the Hospital Wing. He’d read or write his essays until he had fallen asleep by Xandra’s bedside.
During all these, Xandra was asleep. She hadn’t got a clue that her friends had been dropping by everyday nor did she have any idea that Draco had been, still, staying up with her in a way.
She was in a limbo, she thought, because she couldn’t remember the pain that she last felt. Besides, she was dressed in a white dress, a constant variable for those who recounted their near-death experiences. No tunnels for her, though, unlike the ones she had read. Nothing was there, actually, wherever she was. It was just a huge white space. She tried calling out for help but her throat was dry. She opened her mouth but no words came. She was confused and afraid.
Suddenly, like stars falling from the sky, a tree, a bench, a pathway slowly took form around her. This only made her more puzzled. Where was she and what was she doing there? Then from afar, she noticed two people coming. Thinking it best to stay on the side, she sat on the bench. The two people she saw were a mother and a daughter. The child was skipping happily while holding onto her mother’s hand. Her mother didn’t look very happy, in fact, Xandra thought, she looked grim. Xandra watched as the little girl stop almost in front of her. Did she notice Xandra? Maybe. So she smiled at the little girl as she let go of her mother’s hand and ran to Xandra. “Mum, look!” said the little girl, “Faeries!”
“Sweetheart, those are just butterflies,” her mother said, taking her hand again.
The little girl looked at her mother and back to the butterflies. She ran to catch one of the butterflies. Xandra was chuckling as she watched. Feisty little girl, she thought.
“Xandra, honey, no,” the older woman said, trying to run after the little girl, “We have to go now. It’s getting dark.”
Xandra was stunned. The little girl’s name was Xandra, too? How odd. She watched the little girl again, still trying to catch one of those butterflies which were proving to be difficult. The eyes, the hair, Xandra’s jaw dropped. That girl was her! And her gaze turned to the older woman. That woman was her mother!
Surprised was an understatement, she was scandalized. She was now on her feet and was running after her little self and her mother. When she found them, they were heading back to the pathway. She approached her mother and said, “Mum! Hey, mum! Can you hear me? It’s me, Xandra!” The woman was ignoring her. Xandra contented herself in thinking that this was probably a dream.
Her dream-Mother was still holding her dream-self’s hand and they were now walking faster towards a house by the hilltop. The house was huge but it’s a little worn out. It seemed like nobody had lived there for a long time. Xandra watched as her mother took a deep breath and pushed the gate open, tagging dream-Xandra along. Xandra followed suit.
When they entered the house, it was dark. She watched her mother pull out her wand and say, “Lumos!” The look on little Xandra’s face was priceless. She tugged her mother’s hand and asked, “When can I use that stick, Mum? It’s cool.” Artemis only smiled at her.
If it was a dream, Xandra thought, what was its relevance? It couldn’t be a vision. It happened in the past that much she could understand, but why didn’t she have any recollection of it? She couldn’t remember being in that place when she was young yet her little self was musing thoughtfully at the new surrounding she was in.
“Come on, Xandra,” her dream-mother said. They were going downstairs. Little Xandra hopped happily following her mother. Xandra followed them, too.
When they reached their destination, Xandra found out that she had been there before. But not when she was a little girl, no, she couldn’t remember that time. But she knew she had been there because of the familiar portrait hanging in the middle of the room. This was where she had been last.
***
“Hey,” Harry greeted Draco when he dropped by the Hospital Wing. It was almost dusk and their classes had ended.
“Potter,” responded Draco. He was reading a book when the other boy came. He had borrowed a few books from the library since he had a feeling that he would be there a few more days. The potion that Professor Snape made was already finished and they had already given it to Xandra but she still hadn’t woken up.
“How is she?” asked Harry, his gaze was fixed on the unconscious Xandra.
“Her vitals are stable according to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco replied, “But the potion that Professor Snape gave her didn’t seem to have any effect.”
Silence. The two boys were now looking thoughtfully at the unconscious girl. Who could’ve imagined that it was possible for a Potter and a Malfoy to be in the same room without trying to cut each other’s throat?
“You know,” Harry said, breaking the awkward silence, “Xandra would appreciate what you’re doing for her.”
Draco offered Harry to sit which he did. “She’s very important,” Draco said. Harry could not help but notice that Draco had fixed his gaze on Xandra’s face. Harry, too, looked at her again. She looked so peaceful.
“Have you told her yet?” asked Harry. He was, of course, talking about Draco’s feelings towards the girl. Draco seemed to understand his question.
“No, I haven’t,” the blonde boy confessed, “I’m afraid that she wouldn’t accept me or that I’m not good enough.”
“You haven’t known her well, then,” Harry replied. Draco looked like he was ready to punch Harry in the stomach when Harry continued, “In the few months that I’ve been friends with her, the first thing I’ve learned about her was that she’s too simple. She’s like a kid, you know. Give her a candy and she’d love you for life.”
Draco mused at this. It was the second time he heard this advice. Maybe these Gryffindors were right. Maybe he was just over thinking, in an effort to suppress what he’s feeling.
“She doesn’t know how to hate,” Harry went on, “No matter what you do to her. Sure, she has some pretty good retorts to almost everything but that’s about it. Once you’re on her good books, she’s sticking to you.”
Draco absentmindedly nodded. Yes, he figured that much already. This girl was loyal to all that was loyal to her. She had been an interesting thing to Draco ever since she came to Hogwarts. The reason why she didn’t like Slytherins was because they were conniving and backstabbing; Xandra didn’t like that, she wasn’t like that.
“If you’re starting to worm your way to her good books, Malfoy,” Harry said, “You could consider yourself lucky. She’d stick up for you despite anyone’s opinion. However, if you break that trust, it would be very hard to get it back. Consider yourself warned.” With that, Harry stood up and tapped Draco’s shoulder in a friendly manner.
Draco nodded appreciatively. He never thought that Potter could give advices like the ones he just gave. Perhaps, Draco thought, he was giving Harry less credit than he deserved.
“Oh, and Malfoy,” Harry added when he was on his way out. Draco turned to look at him. “Take care of her, okay?”
He nodded. Yes, he promised himself, he would take care of this girl. He wouldn’t allow this to happen again.
***
Xandra watched as her dream-mother held out her dream-self’s hand and cut it several times. Little Xandra was screaming in pain. She was crying and was begging for her mother to stop. Her dream-mother, however, wasn’t budging. She placed her little daughter’s palm on the pillar where Xandra remembered being shackled to. Dream-Artemis watched as the blood flowed through the labyrinth. She was mumbling something as this happened. Xandra didn’t catch what she was saying because she was suddenly feeling light-headed and her own palm began to bleed. She, too, with the dream-Xandra was screaming at her dream-mother to stop. When her dream-mother let go of little Xandra’s hand, she cut her hand and placed it on the pillar, too. Then she muttered, “Only one could open it and destroy the father.” Xandra soon realized that everything was fading, going back to the huge white space that it was before. But not before she heard her dream self said, “I hate you, Mother! I hate you!”
She was now standing alone in a vast space of nothingness. She tried calling out for help again, but found that her voice had been gone again, like the first time. Perhaps, she thought, she had to wait for another dream to come. Yes, that she would do.
Moments later, Xandra heard a sound of a dripping faucet. She wondered where it came from. There hadn’t been any shooting star-like objects that would suggest a dream like the first one. The dripping was getting louder. Where was it coming from? Xandra walked further and found herself closing in a kitchen sink. Why was there a kitchen sink in the middle of nothingness? Then sprouted a fireplace, a cosy sofa, a coffee table. Soon, it was a living room with an extension to the kitchen. She recognized this place in an instant. This was where she grew up. This was her mother’s house.
Xandra watched as her dream-mother, now a little older, came down the stairs. She stared at her and realized that her mother was staring back at her. Did she see her? Was she dead? Was that it?
“Xandra,” her mother told her, “It’s impolite to stare.” Xandra nodded, just as she normally did when her mother reprimand her about her manners. Her mother settled on the sofa then looked at her keenly and said, “Well, are you going to stand there all day and stare at me or do you want to sit down and hear the reason why you’re here?”
Xandra couldn’t believe that her mother was talking to her. No, she was dead. This was supposed to be just a dream, wasn’t it? Her mother shouldn’t be able to see her like in her previous dream. Although confused at her situation, she decided that she wanted to know why she was there and so she took a seat opposite her mother.
“Now,” her mother began, “tell me what you remember.”
As Xandra narrated her last memory, Artemis was listening and absorbing every detail. When she was finished, she asked her mother, “Am I dead?”
“No,” Artemis replied calmly, as if expecting to hear that question, “You’re merely unconscious.”
“But you’re dead?” she asked again.
“Yes,” her mother replied, straight-forward.
Xandra pondered about this for a minute then said, “So, you’re dead, Dad’s dead, too. And you said I’m not, so why am I here?”
“I needed to share with you something. I failed to do it when I was alive so I thought I’d drop by your unconscious,” her mother replied in an almost candid manner. Was she trying to be funny? Xandra thought it impossible that her uptight and strict mother would try to crack a joke.
“My brother had found you, I see,” she went on, “He’s determined to destroy the last piece of family memory I have left. That picture showed the entire Riddle family, Xandra. From my paternal grandparents down to you.” Xandra looked amused by this. A family tree with photos, how great.
“I charmed it, you see,” Artemis continued, “From my family’s portrait. Originally, it was just my grandparents, my parents and I. It was a photograph that I kept with me for a long time. Mother and I moved to France and I went to Beauxbatons. But when I graduated, I experimented on it. I brewed a potion so it would show my entire family, down to the last member. I wanted to see what my half-brother Tom looked like, the man who killed my father. I kept it, though. As a simple reminder of my family and a simple note to remind me to avenge their deaths.”
Xandra was listening to her mother intently. She had never seen her mother look so...affected. She barely talked about her family and Xandra would only get hints of how they were like when she would be scolded because then her mother would say how they were like when she was younger.
“Years passed,” her mother went on, “I married your father and then I had you. I haven’t looked at the photograph for a long time, I was sure nothing had changed. One day, I decided to look at it once more, for old times’ sake. Then I realized that your father was already in the picture and so were you. On the other side, on Tom’s side, there was also an addition. Then it hit me: the potion showed my entire family, down to the very last member. That was a few months before Tom’s downfall.
“When the world thought he was gone, I decided to take precautions, knowing that he was never gone. He’d find a way to come back. I decided to charm the photograph so it would protect you when that time comes. I used your blood to seal it in the Riddle House’s basement, and added mine so you wouldn’t easily fall prey to his claws. If he found you and used your blood to open it, it wouldn’t open because you still need my blood.”
Xandra absentmindedly reached for her necklace, the one Professor Dumbledore gave her a few days back. She saw her mother nod as if to say that yes, the necklace contained her blood and that yes, she was doing it to protect her.
“He didn’t realize that, did he?” Artemis asked.
Xandra shook her head. Her mother gave a sigh of relief. But there was more to tell so she went on, “I have also cursed the only dagger that can be used to open the seal. I made it so that if he attempted to try it himself, he’d be poisoned. Apparently, because it was Dark Arts, he recognized it immediately, yes? That’s why he sought you.”
“So I’m the only one who could open it and destroy it?” Xandra asked.
“Technically, no,” her mother replied, “Tom could open it, too, with the blood of one of his daughter’s. But since Dumbledore attested that Tom used Harry Potter’s blood for his resurrection, he’s no longer a Riddle but more of an Evans. I was relieved when he said that.”
“So right now, I’m the only one who could open it?” she asked again.
“Yes,” was the answer she got. Xandra didn’t know if she should be happy that at least for the time being, Ebony would be safe, or she should curl up in ball because now, the madman was after her.
Artemis realized that her daughter wasn’t enthusiastic about the news. After all, based from her tale, the Riddle House was now occupied by her brother. But she was optimistic that Xandra could get the portrait and destroy it to protect herself. She might need a little help though.
“Mother,” Xandra finally said, “I don’t remember having been to the Riddle House before Tom took me. The dream I saw, I don’t remember it.”
Artemis nodded carefully. “Yes,” she said, “I knew wouldn’t. You were too young then, probably four or five, when I brought you there to seal the portrait. You said you hated me and I understood why. My guess is that you blocked it out from your memory all together. You just hated me.”
Xandra felt guilty. Her mother was just trying to protect her and she hated her. But all those years, she convinced herself that she hated her mother because of the divorce. Maybe it was just her defence mechanism, she thought. She blocked it out and replaced it with another, more comprehensible reason.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” she said sheepishly. Artemis smiled. It had been a long time since her daughter called her ‘Mum’. It had been, since that day at the Riddle House, ‘Mother’.
“There’s something I need to show you,” Artemis said, taking her daughter’s hand. In a wave of a hand, the living room, the kitchen and all the furniture vanished. What was left was a huge mirror.
“Stand in front of it,” Artemis urged her daughter, giving her an appreciative nod. Xandra stood in front of the mirror. She wasn’t prepared for what she was about to see.
***
It was almost nine o’clock. Curfew had been enforced and prefects were the only ones allowed by the corridors to make sure that all students have gone back to their dormitories. It had almost been a week and a half since the Hogsmeade incident. In those days - or, rather nights - Draco skipped rounds and stayed at the Hospital Wing instead. He had been sleeping there, wanting to be the first person that Xandra see when she woke up. That night, after having talked with Harry, Draco decided he’d tell Xandra while she was asleep. He read somewhere that even when someone was unconscious, like in a comatose or just sleeping, they could still hear what people around them say. He was going to try this theory and see if it worked in his favour.
He took her hand and noted that it was smooth and soft. He smiled to himself and thought that the girl probably hadn’t done a single work in her life. Then again, so did he. He ran the back of his hand on her soft face. He was sure that if she was awake, even if their relationship already took a turn to amicability, it wouldn’t stop her from boxing his ear. He pushed the stray hair away from her face. He looked like a princess, Draco thought. He wanted to kiss her lips so badly. It would be wrong to take advantage of her, he knew.
Was it already ancient history when he had a duel with this girl? When did that happen? A few days before the Christmas vacation? Yes, Draco thought, probably around that time. He remembered having had another row with her that day. The usual bickering led to a duel. After she defeated and humiliated him, he remembered Xandra hissing to him that he shouldn’t go around throwing hexes for silly kids. She had said that his hexes bored her. A smile curled up at Draco’s face as he remembered this. He remembered ranting unto his friends Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini as to how the girl humiliated him. They told him they saw it; they were there too. He said he wanted to avenge his humiliation. Then he remembered Theodore making a very unusual comment. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little bit too obsessed with the girl, Draco?” he had said, “Careful, now. The more you know about her, the higher the chances that you fall in love with her.” Alas, somebody voiced it out. Draco smiled again, remembering his friend’s comment.
He leaned closer so that his mouth was close to her ear. And then he whispered something that surprised even him. He told her that he wasn’t sure but he was under the impression that Xandra already captivated his heart. He whispered that she should fight to stay alive and she should wake up already, they had to talk about it. He added, “I miss you, Xandra.”
When he sat up again, he noticed that although her eyes were shut, tears were running down from them. Draco wiped it away but he was smiling despite himself.
***
In her dream state, Xandra was in complete awe at what she was seeing in front of her. She was looking at a woman whose features were very much similar to hers: dark blue hair, blue eyes, slender body but she seemed older. Then there was also a man. She was holding his hand and he kissed her on the forehead, and they were smiling back at Xandra. She thought it was her parents then she noticed that the man looked like her father except the hair colour: slender body, pale complexion, grey eyes, blonde hair.
She was shaking. What kind of sick joke was her mother playing? She turned to her mother who was standing not far from her. She was smiling. Then she asked, “What do you see?”
“You and Dad,” Xandra lied, returning her gaze at the couple in the mirror. Why would her mother want to know what she saw? It was impossible. This was just a dream.
“Liar,” her mother said, “I know you see yourself with that Malfoy kid.” Xandra turned to her mother, hoping to see a disappointed or disapproving look. But her mother was still smiling.
Artemis approached her, wiping her tears. Xandra didn’t even realize she was crying. She was pulled in a hug, a warm and loving hug. Xandra was now sobbing at her mother’s chest.
Artemis, on the other hand, was happy. Not only was she able to set things straight with her daughter but she was able to give her daughter a chance to set things right in her life. “I trust you, Xandra,” she told her, soothing her sobbing daughter, “I always have. I know you can take care of yourself but I wish you would let someone take care of you sometimes.” She pushed Xandra from the hug so she could look straight in her eyes, “That boy wants to take care of you and I’m hoping you’d let him.”
Xandra’s face was glistening in tears. She had never cried that much before, not even when her parents died. But now, why was she crying like there was no tomorrow? Right, she almost died. And her mother was now telling her that Draco wanted to take care of her and it seemed to Xandra that her mother was giving her consent. Whatever, she thought.
Then she heard it. Soft calls from nowhere. Was someone proclaiming her dead already? No, it wasn’t like that. It was saying that it wished she could wake up already. She turned to her mother with a questioning look as if to ask if she could hear it too. But her mother was still smiling. It seemed that the older woman knew what it was and where it was coming from. She nodded at Xandra and said, “It’s time for you to wake up, honey. You’ve been here quite a long time already.”
Xandra gave her mother another hug and said, “I love you, Mum.” She went on to find where the soft voices were coming from. Now it was saying that it missed her. She couldn’t help it; her tears were rolling down her cheeks again.
Then she found a door. She pulled it open and then she was awake.
The first thing she realized was that she was lying down. Then her eyes wandered and saw a familiar blonde hair. His grey eyes were looking at hers. He was smiling as he wiped her tears. It was Draco Malfoy.
Realizing that she was finally awake, Draco said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied, almost to a whisper.
“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” Draco said lovingly. He was smiling at her, caressing her face.
“I heard you,” she said, unable to suppress the tears. Draco was now wiping them with the back of his hand.
“I knew you fancy hearing my voice,” he teased, “I was trying to see if you’d wake up when you heard me. Guess it worked.” She smiled at this. She didn’t mean to, but her tear ducts seemed to be malfunctioning, she couldn’t stop herself from crying. It seemed to alarm Draco.
“Hey, Xandra,” he said tenderly, “Don’t cry. You’re safe now. I won’t let that happen to you again, I promise.”
She nodded, as if knowing his words to be true. She was giving this Draco Malfoy her trust now.
“I’ll take care of you,” Draco added, “No one’s going to hurt you ever again. I won’t let them.”
She didn’t know why she did what she did but it felt like it was the right thing to do at the moment. She hugged him. And she realized that Draco was hugging her back, soothing her. They stayed like that for a few moments more; she didn’t pull away, though; she didn’t feel it was necessary. It was worth more than all the words that either of them could say that moment.
~end of fifth year~
Okay, that's it. That's the end of fifth year. Well, at least for Xandra. Haha. Sixth year is making its way to my computer so you could probably expect that before the year ends. Haha. Comments are love, btw. Thanks!
After that Hogsmeade trip, news of what happened to Xandra spread like wildfire. Students were alarmed. However, Professor Dolores Umbridge assured them the next morning that everything was fine; there was no need to fret. For the last few months, Dolores Umbridge and the Ministry of Magic had been trying to suppress the news that the darkest wizard of all times was again back in action. Incidents like that of Xandra’s accident were easily brushed off because they refuse to believe that Dark Lord was back and even if they did, Xandra’s accident seemed to hold no relevance to the Dark Lord’s rise to power. This seemed to appease the anxiety that was caused by that incident.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were dropping by the Hospital Wing constantly to see if Xandra had woken up already. Millicent, too, since she felt partly responsible to what happened to Xandra. Hermione assured her, however, that Xandra wouldn’t want her to blame herself. She’d swing by usually at supper time. Draco was the only one who had the permission to stay during the night. He’d drop by, too, in between classes and during his free time. And after supper, he’d go back to the dungeons to get some of his stuff then head back to the Hospital Wing. He’d read or write his essays until he had fallen asleep by Xandra’s bedside.
During all these, Xandra was asleep. She hadn’t got a clue that her friends had been dropping by everyday nor did she have any idea that Draco had been, still, staying up with her in a way.
She was in a limbo, she thought, because she couldn’t remember the pain that she last felt. Besides, she was dressed in a white dress, a constant variable for those who recounted their near-death experiences. No tunnels for her, though, unlike the ones she had read. Nothing was there, actually, wherever she was. It was just a huge white space. She tried calling out for help but her throat was dry. She opened her mouth but no words came. She was confused and afraid.
Suddenly, like stars falling from the sky, a tree, a bench, a pathway slowly took form around her. This only made her more puzzled. Where was she and what was she doing there? Then from afar, she noticed two people coming. Thinking it best to stay on the side, she sat on the bench. The two people she saw were a mother and a daughter. The child was skipping happily while holding onto her mother’s hand. Her mother didn’t look very happy, in fact, Xandra thought, she looked grim. Xandra watched as the little girl stop almost in front of her. Did she notice Xandra? Maybe. So she smiled at the little girl as she let go of her mother’s hand and ran to Xandra. “Mum, look!” said the little girl, “Faeries!”
“Sweetheart, those are just butterflies,” her mother said, taking her hand again.
The little girl looked at her mother and back to the butterflies. She ran to catch one of the butterflies. Xandra was chuckling as she watched. Feisty little girl, she thought.
“Xandra, honey, no,” the older woman said, trying to run after the little girl, “We have to go now. It’s getting dark.”
Xandra was stunned. The little girl’s name was Xandra, too? How odd. She watched the little girl again, still trying to catch one of those butterflies which were proving to be difficult. The eyes, the hair, Xandra’s jaw dropped. That girl was her! And her gaze turned to the older woman. That woman was her mother!
Surprised was an understatement, she was scandalized. She was now on her feet and was running after her little self and her mother. When she found them, they were heading back to the pathway. She approached her mother and said, “Mum! Hey, mum! Can you hear me? It’s me, Xandra!” The woman was ignoring her. Xandra contented herself in thinking that this was probably a dream.
Her dream-Mother was still holding her dream-self’s hand and they were now walking faster towards a house by the hilltop. The house was huge but it’s a little worn out. It seemed like nobody had lived there for a long time. Xandra watched as her mother took a deep breath and pushed the gate open, tagging dream-Xandra along. Xandra followed suit.
When they entered the house, it was dark. She watched her mother pull out her wand and say, “Lumos!” The look on little Xandra’s face was priceless. She tugged her mother’s hand and asked, “When can I use that stick, Mum? It’s cool.” Artemis only smiled at her.
If it was a dream, Xandra thought, what was its relevance? It couldn’t be a vision. It happened in the past that much she could understand, but why didn’t she have any recollection of it? She couldn’t remember being in that place when she was young yet her little self was musing thoughtfully at the new surrounding she was in.
“Come on, Xandra,” her dream-mother said. They were going downstairs. Little Xandra hopped happily following her mother. Xandra followed them, too.
When they reached their destination, Xandra found out that she had been there before. But not when she was a little girl, no, she couldn’t remember that time. But she knew she had been there because of the familiar portrait hanging in the middle of the room. This was where she had been last.
***
“Hey,” Harry greeted Draco when he dropped by the Hospital Wing. It was almost dusk and their classes had ended.
“Potter,” responded Draco. He was reading a book when the other boy came. He had borrowed a few books from the library since he had a feeling that he would be there a few more days. The potion that Professor Snape made was already finished and they had already given it to Xandra but she still hadn’t woken up.
“How is she?” asked Harry, his gaze was fixed on the unconscious Xandra.
“Her vitals are stable according to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco replied, “But the potion that Professor Snape gave her didn’t seem to have any effect.”
Silence. The two boys were now looking thoughtfully at the unconscious girl. Who could’ve imagined that it was possible for a Potter and a Malfoy to be in the same room without trying to cut each other’s throat?
“You know,” Harry said, breaking the awkward silence, “Xandra would appreciate what you’re doing for her.”
Draco offered Harry to sit which he did. “She’s very important,” Draco said. Harry could not help but notice that Draco had fixed his gaze on Xandra’s face. Harry, too, looked at her again. She looked so peaceful.
“Have you told her yet?” asked Harry. He was, of course, talking about Draco’s feelings towards the girl. Draco seemed to understand his question.
“No, I haven’t,” the blonde boy confessed, “I’m afraid that she wouldn’t accept me or that I’m not good enough.”
“You haven’t known her well, then,” Harry replied. Draco looked like he was ready to punch Harry in the stomach when Harry continued, “In the few months that I’ve been friends with her, the first thing I’ve learned about her was that she’s too simple. She’s like a kid, you know. Give her a candy and she’d love you for life.”
Draco mused at this. It was the second time he heard this advice. Maybe these Gryffindors were right. Maybe he was just over thinking, in an effort to suppress what he’s feeling.
“She doesn’t know how to hate,” Harry went on, “No matter what you do to her. Sure, she has some pretty good retorts to almost everything but that’s about it. Once you’re on her good books, she’s sticking to you.”
Draco absentmindedly nodded. Yes, he figured that much already. This girl was loyal to all that was loyal to her. She had been an interesting thing to Draco ever since she came to Hogwarts. The reason why she didn’t like Slytherins was because they were conniving and backstabbing; Xandra didn’t like that, she wasn’t like that.
“If you’re starting to worm your way to her good books, Malfoy,” Harry said, “You could consider yourself lucky. She’d stick up for you despite anyone’s opinion. However, if you break that trust, it would be very hard to get it back. Consider yourself warned.” With that, Harry stood up and tapped Draco’s shoulder in a friendly manner.
Draco nodded appreciatively. He never thought that Potter could give advices like the ones he just gave. Perhaps, Draco thought, he was giving Harry less credit than he deserved.
“Oh, and Malfoy,” Harry added when he was on his way out. Draco turned to look at him. “Take care of her, okay?”
He nodded. Yes, he promised himself, he would take care of this girl. He wouldn’t allow this to happen again.
***
Xandra watched as her dream-mother held out her dream-self’s hand and cut it several times. Little Xandra was screaming in pain. She was crying and was begging for her mother to stop. Her dream-mother, however, wasn’t budging. She placed her little daughter’s palm on the pillar where Xandra remembered being shackled to. Dream-Artemis watched as the blood flowed through the labyrinth. She was mumbling something as this happened. Xandra didn’t catch what she was saying because she was suddenly feeling light-headed and her own palm began to bleed. She, too, with the dream-Xandra was screaming at her dream-mother to stop. When her dream-mother let go of little Xandra’s hand, she cut her hand and placed it on the pillar, too. Then she muttered, “Only one could open it and destroy the father.” Xandra soon realized that everything was fading, going back to the huge white space that it was before. But not before she heard her dream self said, “I hate you, Mother! I hate you!”
She was now standing alone in a vast space of nothingness. She tried calling out for help again, but found that her voice had been gone again, like the first time. Perhaps, she thought, she had to wait for another dream to come. Yes, that she would do.
Moments later, Xandra heard a sound of a dripping faucet. She wondered where it came from. There hadn’t been any shooting star-like objects that would suggest a dream like the first one. The dripping was getting louder. Where was it coming from? Xandra walked further and found herself closing in a kitchen sink. Why was there a kitchen sink in the middle of nothingness? Then sprouted a fireplace, a cosy sofa, a coffee table. Soon, it was a living room with an extension to the kitchen. She recognized this place in an instant. This was where she grew up. This was her mother’s house.
Xandra watched as her dream-mother, now a little older, came down the stairs. She stared at her and realized that her mother was staring back at her. Did she see her? Was she dead? Was that it?
“Xandra,” her mother told her, “It’s impolite to stare.” Xandra nodded, just as she normally did when her mother reprimand her about her manners. Her mother settled on the sofa then looked at her keenly and said, “Well, are you going to stand there all day and stare at me or do you want to sit down and hear the reason why you’re here?”
Xandra couldn’t believe that her mother was talking to her. No, she was dead. This was supposed to be just a dream, wasn’t it? Her mother shouldn’t be able to see her like in her previous dream. Although confused at her situation, she decided that she wanted to know why she was there and so she took a seat opposite her mother.
“Now,” her mother began, “tell me what you remember.”
As Xandra narrated her last memory, Artemis was listening and absorbing every detail. When she was finished, she asked her mother, “Am I dead?”
“No,” Artemis replied calmly, as if expecting to hear that question, “You’re merely unconscious.”
“But you’re dead?” she asked again.
“Yes,” her mother replied, straight-forward.
Xandra pondered about this for a minute then said, “So, you’re dead, Dad’s dead, too. And you said I’m not, so why am I here?”
“I needed to share with you something. I failed to do it when I was alive so I thought I’d drop by your unconscious,” her mother replied in an almost candid manner. Was she trying to be funny? Xandra thought it impossible that her uptight and strict mother would try to crack a joke.
“My brother had found you, I see,” she went on, “He’s determined to destroy the last piece of family memory I have left. That picture showed the entire Riddle family, Xandra. From my paternal grandparents down to you.” Xandra looked amused by this. A family tree with photos, how great.
“I charmed it, you see,” Artemis continued, “From my family’s portrait. Originally, it was just my grandparents, my parents and I. It was a photograph that I kept with me for a long time. Mother and I moved to France and I went to Beauxbatons. But when I graduated, I experimented on it. I brewed a potion so it would show my entire family, down to the last member. I wanted to see what my half-brother Tom looked like, the man who killed my father. I kept it, though. As a simple reminder of my family and a simple note to remind me to avenge their deaths.”
Xandra was listening to her mother intently. She had never seen her mother look so...affected. She barely talked about her family and Xandra would only get hints of how they were like when she would be scolded because then her mother would say how they were like when she was younger.
“Years passed,” her mother went on, “I married your father and then I had you. I haven’t looked at the photograph for a long time, I was sure nothing had changed. One day, I decided to look at it once more, for old times’ sake. Then I realized that your father was already in the picture and so were you. On the other side, on Tom’s side, there was also an addition. Then it hit me: the potion showed my entire family, down to the very last member. That was a few months before Tom’s downfall.
“When the world thought he was gone, I decided to take precautions, knowing that he was never gone. He’d find a way to come back. I decided to charm the photograph so it would protect you when that time comes. I used your blood to seal it in the Riddle House’s basement, and added mine so you wouldn’t easily fall prey to his claws. If he found you and used your blood to open it, it wouldn’t open because you still need my blood.”
Xandra absentmindedly reached for her necklace, the one Professor Dumbledore gave her a few days back. She saw her mother nod as if to say that yes, the necklace contained her blood and that yes, she was doing it to protect her.
“He didn’t realize that, did he?” Artemis asked.
Xandra shook her head. Her mother gave a sigh of relief. But there was more to tell so she went on, “I have also cursed the only dagger that can be used to open the seal. I made it so that if he attempted to try it himself, he’d be poisoned. Apparently, because it was Dark Arts, he recognized it immediately, yes? That’s why he sought you.”
“So I’m the only one who could open it and destroy it?” Xandra asked.
“Technically, no,” her mother replied, “Tom could open it, too, with the blood of one of his daughter’s. But since Dumbledore attested that Tom used Harry Potter’s blood for his resurrection, he’s no longer a Riddle but more of an Evans. I was relieved when he said that.”
“So right now, I’m the only one who could open it?” she asked again.
“Yes,” was the answer she got. Xandra didn’t know if she should be happy that at least for the time being, Ebony would be safe, or she should curl up in ball because now, the madman was after her.
Artemis realized that her daughter wasn’t enthusiastic about the news. After all, based from her tale, the Riddle House was now occupied by her brother. But she was optimistic that Xandra could get the portrait and destroy it to protect herself. She might need a little help though.
“Mother,” Xandra finally said, “I don’t remember having been to the Riddle House before Tom took me. The dream I saw, I don’t remember it.”
Artemis nodded carefully. “Yes,” she said, “I knew wouldn’t. You were too young then, probably four or five, when I brought you there to seal the portrait. You said you hated me and I understood why. My guess is that you blocked it out from your memory all together. You just hated me.”
Xandra felt guilty. Her mother was just trying to protect her and she hated her. But all those years, she convinced herself that she hated her mother because of the divorce. Maybe it was just her defence mechanism, she thought. She blocked it out and replaced it with another, more comprehensible reason.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” she said sheepishly. Artemis smiled. It had been a long time since her daughter called her ‘Mum’. It had been, since that day at the Riddle House, ‘Mother’.
“There’s something I need to show you,” Artemis said, taking her daughter’s hand. In a wave of a hand, the living room, the kitchen and all the furniture vanished. What was left was a huge mirror.
“Stand in front of it,” Artemis urged her daughter, giving her an appreciative nod. Xandra stood in front of the mirror. She wasn’t prepared for what she was about to see.
***
It was almost nine o’clock. Curfew had been enforced and prefects were the only ones allowed by the corridors to make sure that all students have gone back to their dormitories. It had almost been a week and a half since the Hogsmeade incident. In those days - or, rather nights - Draco skipped rounds and stayed at the Hospital Wing instead. He had been sleeping there, wanting to be the first person that Xandra see when she woke up. That night, after having talked with Harry, Draco decided he’d tell Xandra while she was asleep. He read somewhere that even when someone was unconscious, like in a comatose or just sleeping, they could still hear what people around them say. He was going to try this theory and see if it worked in his favour.
He took her hand and noted that it was smooth and soft. He smiled to himself and thought that the girl probably hadn’t done a single work in her life. Then again, so did he. He ran the back of his hand on her soft face. He was sure that if she was awake, even if their relationship already took a turn to amicability, it wouldn’t stop her from boxing his ear. He pushed the stray hair away from her face. He looked like a princess, Draco thought. He wanted to kiss her lips so badly. It would be wrong to take advantage of her, he knew.
Was it already ancient history when he had a duel with this girl? When did that happen? A few days before the Christmas vacation? Yes, Draco thought, probably around that time. He remembered having had another row with her that day. The usual bickering led to a duel. After she defeated and humiliated him, he remembered Xandra hissing to him that he shouldn’t go around throwing hexes for silly kids. She had said that his hexes bored her. A smile curled up at Draco’s face as he remembered this. He remembered ranting unto his friends Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini as to how the girl humiliated him. They told him they saw it; they were there too. He said he wanted to avenge his humiliation. Then he remembered Theodore making a very unusual comment. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little bit too obsessed with the girl, Draco?” he had said, “Careful, now. The more you know about her, the higher the chances that you fall in love with her.” Alas, somebody voiced it out. Draco smiled again, remembering his friend’s comment.
He leaned closer so that his mouth was close to her ear. And then he whispered something that surprised even him. He told her that he wasn’t sure but he was under the impression that Xandra already captivated his heart. He whispered that she should fight to stay alive and she should wake up already, they had to talk about it. He added, “I miss you, Xandra.”
When he sat up again, he noticed that although her eyes were shut, tears were running down from them. Draco wiped it away but he was smiling despite himself.
***
In her dream state, Xandra was in complete awe at what she was seeing in front of her. She was looking at a woman whose features were very much similar to hers: dark blue hair, blue eyes, slender body but she seemed older. Then there was also a man. She was holding his hand and he kissed her on the forehead, and they were smiling back at Xandra. She thought it was her parents then she noticed that the man looked like her father except the hair colour: slender body, pale complexion, grey eyes, blonde hair.
She was shaking. What kind of sick joke was her mother playing? She turned to her mother who was standing not far from her. She was smiling. Then she asked, “What do you see?”
“You and Dad,” Xandra lied, returning her gaze at the couple in the mirror. Why would her mother want to know what she saw? It was impossible. This was just a dream.
“Liar,” her mother said, “I know you see yourself with that Malfoy kid.” Xandra turned to her mother, hoping to see a disappointed or disapproving look. But her mother was still smiling.
Artemis approached her, wiping her tears. Xandra didn’t even realize she was crying. She was pulled in a hug, a warm and loving hug. Xandra was now sobbing at her mother’s chest.
Artemis, on the other hand, was happy. Not only was she able to set things straight with her daughter but she was able to give her daughter a chance to set things right in her life. “I trust you, Xandra,” she told her, soothing her sobbing daughter, “I always have. I know you can take care of yourself but I wish you would let someone take care of you sometimes.” She pushed Xandra from the hug so she could look straight in her eyes, “That boy wants to take care of you and I’m hoping you’d let him.”
Xandra’s face was glistening in tears. She had never cried that much before, not even when her parents died. But now, why was she crying like there was no tomorrow? Right, she almost died. And her mother was now telling her that Draco wanted to take care of her and it seemed to Xandra that her mother was giving her consent. Whatever, she thought.
Then she heard it. Soft calls from nowhere. Was someone proclaiming her dead already? No, it wasn’t like that. It was saying that it wished she could wake up already. She turned to her mother with a questioning look as if to ask if she could hear it too. But her mother was still smiling. It seemed that the older woman knew what it was and where it was coming from. She nodded at Xandra and said, “It’s time for you to wake up, honey. You’ve been here quite a long time already.”
Xandra gave her mother another hug and said, “I love you, Mum.” She went on to find where the soft voices were coming from. Now it was saying that it missed her. She couldn’t help it; her tears were rolling down her cheeks again.
Then she found a door. She pulled it open and then she was awake.
The first thing she realized was that she was lying down. Then her eyes wandered and saw a familiar blonde hair. His grey eyes were looking at hers. He was smiling as he wiped her tears. It was Draco Malfoy.
Realizing that she was finally awake, Draco said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied, almost to a whisper.
“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” Draco said lovingly. He was smiling at her, caressing her face.
“I heard you,” she said, unable to suppress the tears. Draco was now wiping them with the back of his hand.
“I knew you fancy hearing my voice,” he teased, “I was trying to see if you’d wake up when you heard me. Guess it worked.” She smiled at this. She didn’t mean to, but her tear ducts seemed to be malfunctioning, she couldn’t stop herself from crying. It seemed to alarm Draco.
“Hey, Xandra,” he said tenderly, “Don’t cry. You’re safe now. I won’t let that happen to you again, I promise.”
She nodded, as if knowing his words to be true. She was giving this Draco Malfoy her trust now.
“I’ll take care of you,” Draco added, “No one’s going to hurt you ever again. I won’t let them.”
She didn’t know why she did what she did but it felt like it was the right thing to do at the moment. She hugged him. And she realized that Draco was hugging her back, soothing her. They stayed like that for a few moments more; she didn’t pull away, though; she didn’t feel it was necessary. It was worth more than all the words that either of them could say that moment.
~end of fifth year~
Okay, that's it. That's the end of fifth year. Well, at least for Xandra. Haha. Sixth year is making its way to my computer so you could probably expect that before the year ends. Haha. Comments are love, btw. Thanks!