["Ribs" - Lorde]

I remember Christmas at the Malfoys, before things changed.

-

"Thank you for letting me stay over for Christmas, Mrs. Malfoy!" I smiled, flashing the woman my brightest smile. Draco had told me his parents had high expectations of everyone, and I wanted to give off my best first impression. It was December of my first year at Hogwarts, and while my parents knew the Malfoys from work, I had never actually met them in person.

Mrs. Malfoy gave me a warm smile and opened her arms for a hug. "It's my pleasure, Kyla. I've heard so many wonderful things about you from your parents, dear, and you seem just as lovely in person," she replied. I looked over at Draco, who immediately ran into his mother's arms for a hug. He waved me in and I dropped my bags, hugging him and his mother as well.

Draco's father was standing behind them, an almost snide expression on his face, although being so young, I barely noticed or cared. He snapped his fingers and a small house-elf appeared. After ordering the house-elf to take our belongings to Draco's room, he waved us inside the large mansion.

Everything seemed bright and cheerful for the holidays. A large, extravagant Christmas tree towered over us in the entryway, strung with ornaments and tinsel, and topped with a shining star. Boxes wrapped in silver and gold littered the floor around the tree, and wizard Christmas carols were playing on repeat from a radio nearby.

"Come, children. Let's have something to drink and we can have a little fun until your parents arrive, Kyla, is that alright?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, guiding us into the kitchen. She grabbed a few hot chocolates that were sitting fresh on the counter and handed them to us. Draco and I grinned, then slid out back into the front foyer, and started dancing to the Christmas music. Mrs. Malfoy gave us a stern look, but at the sight of our happy faces, gave in and laughed, then joined us in the dancing.

As we were spinning around, Draco managed to trip over the tail of my fancy Christmas dress that I had bought only days ago, and spilled his entire mug of steaming hot chocolate all over it. I screamed, pulling the hot fabric away from my skin, to keep it from burning me. Mrs. Malfoy, now with a slightly frustrated look on her face, pulled out her wand and waved it, muttering a spell. The hot chocolate seemed to evaporate away, and I smiled in relief. After I thanked Mrs. Malfoy, she sent us up to our room to wait until dinner.

Since we were rather small children, both my and Draco's parents were completely okay with us sleeping in the same bed. We raced each other up to his room and quickly ran to his bed, where we climbed up on it and began jumping around happily, laughing when one of us accidentally jumped off a side of the bed or when we collided and both fell. We were always smiling. We had no responsibilities or worries or cares.

-

But now, it's all different. Draco and I can barely look each other in the eyes now, and any time we do, it's with cold, hard stares that echo no emotion. Any recognition of his younger self is gone, although I imagine mine is as well.

"Kyla! Draco!" Mrs. Malfoy harshly whispered, gesturing for us to follow her down the dark street. Shaking myself out of that memory that kept replaying through my mind, I glanced sideways at the blonde-haired boy standing next to me, and followed two steps behind him as we started down Knockturn Alley.

The shadows cast around us gave off an eerie sense of gloom, and I couldn't help but feel so miserably alone in all of this; I knew, however, I wasn't alone, but I was terrified, and fear tends to overwhelm any kind of common sense at times like these.

Borgin and Burkes loomed above us, and again I looked at Draco; this time, I could sense a flicker of fear in his blue-grey eyes. I quickened my pace for a moment, just so I could catch up with him, and I whispered, "We're too young for this, Draco." I knew it was a lie, but I wanted so desperately for it to be true. I didn't want the kind of responsibility that came with being older. He looked over at me, and for a moment I swore I could see little first year Draco instead of this sixteen-year-old mystery standing next to me. But quickly my mind adjusted itself to see the older Draco again, and my heart sank. I hated having to grow up so fast.

"No, we aren't, Kyla," he hissed back harshly. "You know how it is now, with the Dark Lord back, and..." his eyes flickered to my left forearm, where I could feel the mark imprinted on it begin to sting slightly. His face darkened, and he turned away, continuing to follow his mother into the old shop.

She stood at the doorway, and shot me a glare as I entered. Involuntarily, I straightened my posture and put a serious look on my face, one that refused to give away any certain emotion other than indifference. Mrs. Malfoy nodded slightly, signifying I was doing the proper thing.

The delusional Bellatrix Lestrange stood inside, eyes wild with insanity, along with the werewolf Fenrir Greyback and the owner of the shop, Mr. Borgin.

"You will reserve that Vanishing Cabinet for us!" Bellatrix screeched, stamping her foot against the ground, causing the entire floor to shake and the old lighting fixture above us to sway back and forth.

"I will not, Miss Lestrange, there are far too many other customers that would be more willing to purchase it," the store owner replied stubbornly. He looked hesitant though, and I nodded at Draco before taking a step forward. I know we had grown apart over the years, but Draco had known me for long enough to know what plan of action I was going to use to make sure Mr. Borgin would do as we ask. I could tell Draco understood, because I could see the tiniest flicker of a smirk cross his face before it was covered by that cold stare that reminded me too much of his father.

"You most certainly will, Mr. Borgin. You will also explain to us how to repair the Cabinet in the school!" I demanded confidently. Bellatrix sent me a delirious grin, and the hesitance on Borgin's face grew into fear.

"No, I can't," he persisted, trying to act strong. "It wouldn't be possible unless I had the Cabinet here, but I don't!"

I sighed and pulled up my left sleeve, revealing the long, slithering Dark Mark tattooed across my forearm, regretting it almost instantly as a look of pure terror crossed over Borgin's face. Draco stepped forward as well, revealing his Mark as well, and added, "We could also send Greyback here on regular check-ups if you don't help."

The shopkeeper gulped, looking as if he had just been slapped across the face, and glanced up at the ominous-looking werewolf, who bared his sharp teeth back down at the poor old man. "Alright, alright, I'll help you," Borgin said hurriedly.

As he explained what to do, my mind wandered back to the memory of that Christmas. Thinking about how much I've grown in those years and how many more responsibilities I've had to take on, as well as the burdens I'm forced to carry, it's made me desperately want my childish mind back. Just the memory of that happy Christmas wasn't enough. I needed some way to be happy again. I wanted the sarcastic, humorous Draco back, who would poke fun at the other kids at school. The distance between us had grown as we got older, until I barely knew him anymore.

That moment in the street of Knockturn Alley, where I could see the familiar little Draco appear for that tiny flicker of a moment, kept playing through my mind for the rest of the night, after Draco's mother Apparated us out of Borgin and Burkes and back to Malfoy Manor, after Draco and I went to our separate rooms, and even after I had laid down in my bed, I could still remember that face, and us just being little kids.

I wish I was young again.

-

This dream isn't feeling sweet

We're reeling through the midnight streets

And I've never felt more alone

It feels so scary, getting old

-