BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
001 ━━━━━ ❛ welcome to hogwarts ❜

Having one's dreams come true is something worthwhile. Especially when it's on a bright, warm day. The feeling of finally having something you'd spent nights fantasizing about and imagining what it would be like, and then having it right in your hands, was something entirely different.

Olivia Mallard was familiar with this feeling. Or, at the very least, she was about to experience it. She stood in her usually dark room, staring at her slightly overpacked trunk, trying to figure out a way to make it all fit.

The calm breeze ran in through the slightly drawn curtains, giving her room a glorious feeling. September 1st was the day that was marked on her calendar with black ink, screaming "Hogwarts!" in your face when you read it.

Her dainty hands rested on her hips as she studied her trunk in frustration. That day was the day that Olivia Mallard, in all of her eleven-year-old (almost twelve-year-old) glory, was going to Hogwarts, the school of her dreams. She was going to the school of her dreams.

She still couldn't believe it.

Not the fact that she had been accepted to the finest wizarding school; no, that was something she was sure was going to happen from the moment she cast her first nonverbal spell. It was the fact that Hogwarts was indeed real that made her mind swirl.

She took a deep breath as the feeling made her cold heart swoon. She hated that feeling, but since she was alone, she would let it have a free pass. After all, it was a special day.

Her mind quickly moved back to the annoyance of her overpacking. It's not like she was bringing useless things; no, she was bringing her utmost essentials. Some (most) of her books, ranging from spell books to muggle books that her parents weren't aware she had to the books she had secretly taken from her family's library—then there were the boring but necessary things—clothes, toiletries, and everything else she "needed" to have a comfortable life at Hogwarts.

She sighed, and that's when a brilliant idea came to her. She closed her trunk but didn't clasp it closed due to the fact that she wasn't able. Then she left her room, walking through the corridor, passing by all of her ancestors. On one side of the wall was her mother's family—the O'Sheas—and on the other side was her father's family—the Mallards.

She heard some of them mumbling about Hogwarts and such, but she didn't pay them any mind; she was on a mission, and her destination was coming into view. Seeing that her brother's door was closed as she came to a stop, his "no Olivia's allowed" sign hanging on it, she sighed.

Lucas had been upset, to say the least, about Olivia leaving. She hated that she was hurting him, but it was inevitable. The reminder that she would be home for Christmas and summer and that he would be joining her at Hogwarts in a year's time continuously left her lips, but he ignored her.

Knocking on the door, she listened closely to see if she could hear him scurrying about inside, but there was no sound. She stepped closer to the door, knocking once more, but still nothing. Her hand reached for the knob, and she turned it, slowly opening the door. "Lucas, you better be decent or I will have to bleach my eyes," she called out.

When the door was fully open, her eyes caught Lucas sitting at his desk, not paying her any mind, which was becoming dangerously familiar. She took a step in, continuing to stare at the mess of curls facing her, and she sighed. "No Olivia's allowed; very funny," she said, taking the paper sign off his door.

Still nothing, not even a breath.

"Lucas, come on, you can't ignore me forever," she breathed, walking over to her brother. He didn't say anything as she stopped next to him, putting the paper on his desk.

He did not glance at her or even let her know that he was remotely aware of her presence—which, of course, she knew he was—and he continued reading his book. After a moment of Olivia just standing there, examining her brother, waiting for him to give up his little silent treatment, she rolled her eyes.

She slammed his book shut and yanked it away from him and out of his reach. His head snapped towards her, his eyes in narrow slits, trying to be intimidating—trying being the keyword.

"Give that back," he gritted, standing up from his desk.

"No," Olivia replied, taking a step back so he couldn't grab the book. She held it behind her back as Lucas reached for it. "I'm not going to give it to you until you stop ignoring me," she explained, taking another step away from him and towards the door.

"I'm talking to you right now, am I not?" He stated. There was a very obvious hint of annoyance lacing his tone. "I'm not ignoring you, so give me my book back."

"Mhm," Olivia hummed in thought. "How about no?"

"You're a child," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a child?" she scoffed. Her eyes went slightly wider in disbelief. She was not a child. Her eyes narrowed when he nodded in response, crossing his arms over his chest like a child would when they didn't get their way. He was a child, not her. "You're the one who's been ignoring me for weeks just because I'm going to school," she reminded him.

"That's besides the point."

"No, it's not, Lucas—I'm going to school, not moving across the country," she retorted.

"You're still leaving me," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes and kicking a nonexistent piece of something. "You're leaving me alone with them in this house," he sighed, his green eyes meeting hers, nothing but sadness filling them.

That's when it hit her—the realization of what was going to happen to him. All his life, she had been right there, at his side, being his guardian—somewhat of a parental figure. But now she was leaving, and the only guardians he was going to have were the house elves, but they were more scared of Clodagh and Andrew than he was.

It wasn't because they were physically abusive or anything, but because they were scary people—especially "Mistress Clodagh".

Olivia took a deep breath, stepping closer to her brother. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug—his book still clutched in one of her hands. If you looked very, very deeply into her eyes, you might be able to find the guilt she was feeling.

Her dreams were now crushed. Destroyed by the thought of what they were going to make her put Lucas through. Months alone with their so-called parents, not having her by his side to speak up for him and defend him.

He was going to be alone.

"I'm sorry, Lucas," she whispered, wrapping her arms tighter. She could feel his body shaking as he silently sobbed. "I'll be home for Christmas and summer; I'll make sure to check in with you during the time that I'm gone," she explained. "I won't be here, but I will in spirit—I'll write to you, update you on everything going on, and make sure you're alright, okay?"

She could feel him nod. She pulled herself away from him, her hands resting on his arms as their eyes met once more—his filled with tears and her filled with sorrow, her brows slightly furrowed.

After a moment of silence, he stuck out the hand holding his book. "Here's your book." She tried to smile. "Emily Dickinson—great choice," she pointed out, looking at the cover of the old book. He smiled at this, looking down at the book as well.

Olivia moved towards the door, completely forgetting why she had come in there in the first place. The guilt was overtaking her senses as she began to step into the corridor once more.

"Livvy," Lucas called out, causing her to stop in her tracks. She peeked her head back into the opening as she felt the eyes of some of her ancestors on her. "What did you need?" he asked, causing her to furrow her brows. "When you first came in here, what did you need?"

"Oh," she nodded. "Well, I needed your help with something; but it's fine; I can get Trinky or Bobbin to do it," she assured. When she went to leave, she heard him speak once more.

"No, I'll do it," he said, tossing his book onto his bed and then moving towards the door. "Whatever it is," he muttered under his breath, stepping into the corridor.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Lucas, put all of your weight on it," she instructed, struggling to get the clasps locked. Just a little more—she just needed a little more weight on it, then it would shut.

"I am," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Lucas was currently sitting on top of Olivia's trunk, trying to push the top down enough for it to close. They had moved it onto the floor for better sturdiness, but still, Lucas did not seem to weigh enough.

"Why don't you just take some things out?" he suggested, meeting her eyes as she sent him a glare.

"Because I need everything in here," she began, continuing to struggle with the clasps. "And I need this to close," she gritted, now glaring at the trunk as if it was going to get scared and cooperate.

Breaking News from the Daily Prophet with Rita Skeeter: It didn't. If only this time Rita's update went along with her usual work—that being false.

"Miss Olivia," a small, shaking voice said from behind the two.

Olivia's head snapped in its direction as Lucas looked up. One of their favorite house elves, Bobbin, stood at the door. "Yes, Bobbin?" Her brows raised as she looked at the big-eyed creature.

"M-Mistress Clodagh told Bobbin to tell Miss Olivia and Mister Lucas that they are needed in the drawing room," Bobbin explained, the shakiness still not leaving her voice as she clung onto the tan pillowcase she wore as clothing.

"Alright, tell Mistress Clodagh that we will be down there in a moment." She mustered a smile, trying to make the elf a little less intimidated.

Bobbin quickly nodded, and by the looks of it, it seemed as though she was about to disapparate. "Bobbin wait!" Olivia called out, stopping the house elf's movement. The loudness of Olivia's voice had scared Bobbin, and that was quite obvious in the petrified look the house elf had. "I'm sorry, Bobbin; I didn't mean to shout," Olivia continued, giving her a sympathetic look. "It's just—I need you to do something for me."

"Oh, anything for Miss Olivia, anything!" Bobbin cheered.

A small smile encapsulated Olivia's face as she watched the elf jump, joy in her eyes. "Can you please sit on the trunk with Mister Lucas?" she asked, causing the elf to stop her movements once more, this time staring at her with confusion. "I need to be able to close my trunk, but Lucas's weight isn't enough, so I need just a bit more," she explained, glancing at her brother, who looked annoyed—he was most likely still mad at her.

After a moment of Bobbin staring at Olivia in confusion, she began moving towards the trunk. She climbed on it with the help of Lucas and then plopped down, putting all of her weight on it, which wasn't much, but it was just enough for the clasps to meet the latch.

Finally, Olivia's trunk was closed. Bobbin looked at her for reassurance, and Olivia nodded. "Thank you, Bobbin; that'll be all."

Bobbin hopped off the trunk and quickly disapparated out of the room, no doubt going to tell Olivia's parents the information she was told to relay. Lucas got off the trunk, both shoes flat on the ground as he straightened out his outfit.

"Thank you, Lucas." Olivia slightly smiled.

He nodded, his face stern and serious. "I'm still mad at you," he responded. And with that, he walked out of her room, going downstairs to his parents.

Olivia sighed, running her hands over her legs just before she stood. Now, she faced a new problem—how in Merlin's beard was she supposed to get her trunk downstairs all by herself?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

As she walked downstairs, her trunk not-so-graciously clanking against each step as her tote bag contained her current book and wand, she was met with nothing but silence. If it were any other person, they would've assumed that her family had left her, but Olivia knew better. Her eyes caught onto her parents and brother standing in the sitting room, close to the door—boredom coated all of their expressions, which was something she was all too used to.

Deep in Lucas's eyes, Olivia could see sadness as she continued to move closer to the three. Her father's expression was hard to pin down; he looks stern, like he didn't care, but there was also a flicker of... something; it wasn't sadness, but it was something—definitely something. Her mother, on the other hand, looked as if she couldn't care less about her only daughter and eldest child leaving her—nothing but boredom in her face.

Olivia stopped in front of the three. "Are you ready?" her mother asked, her tone flat. The girl in front of her simply nodded, giving her an answer. "Good," Clodagh said. And with that, she walked to the door, saying nothing else and not shooting a glance in anyone's direction.

Andrew, Olivia's father, stepped forward, grabbing the heavy trunk from his daughter's hands. Then they followed after the woman, going outside to their apparition point—a small tree trunk just a little ways into their clean manor grounds.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Her shoes sounded against the concrete as she raced through the crowd of wandering muggles heading for the trains. She was so close—so very close. She was also so very close to missing the train—her own fault, that is.

Her parents and brother followed quickly behind her, but none of the three were in as much of a rush as the girl was. In fact, they were going at a snail's pace—despite her father holding her trunk, the one thing she very much needed.

Once she reached platforms nine and ten, she stopped in her tracks, looking around for her so-called family. They come into view as her eyes search between the rushing muggles her mother is sending nasty looks towards.

And after what feels like forever, the three she had been waiting for finally reach her. Her father gave her a small nod, letting her know that she could go through the pillar. It wasn't like she needed his permission, but it was appreciated.

She stepped back a bit, going in between the two pillars. And that was when worries began to fill her brilliant mind. What if I make a complete fool out of myself? What if the pillar is solid and I break my nose? I love my nose; I don't want to break it. She knew there was no need for the thoughts, but she couldn't help but have them.

Her mother nudged her forward, already annoyed about how long this had taken. Olivia looked back at her, then her eyes found the pillar once more. She took a deep breath and began her journey to Platform 9 ¾. Her eyes squeezed shut, which probably wasn't the brightest idea. She was sure that she was going to run into solid stone, but she felt nothing.

Her eyes hesitantly opened, taking in the sight before her. Her nose wasn't broken, and her eyes weren't looking into the gray color of the stone, but instead, at the beautiful wonders of Platform 9 ¾. She sighed in relief, taking in all of the things around her.

She first noticed the families of young, eager witches and wizards—and then the families of the witches and wizards that weren't so eager. Next, it was the train—the infamous Hogwarts Express in all its magical glory. Her eyes were wide in gleam, and a bright smile dared her lips.

Her future flashed before her, and all of her worries vanished. This is what she was going to see annually for years to come, and she was entirely happy with that. She was going to Hogwarts—it was finally happening; it was no longer a dream. The smile finally broke through her fighting and occupied her expression.

But when her family joined her, her mother nudged her forward again. Her eyes met her mother's, who was glaring at her. "Don't show them that you're excited—they'll take it as weakness," Clodagh instructed in a hushed tone, a blank expression obtaining her face.

Olivia's smile faltered as she faced forward once more. Her face became cold—no emotion in sight, just as her mother wanted. Her signature soulless eyes and dead expression were back, and she knew she had to keep them that way. No excitement. No emotion.

They began walking towards the train, their eyes trained forward, not looking at anyone as their presence was noticed. The family was well known around the Wizarding World—mostly because people speculated that Clodagh and Andrew had ties to You-Know-Who—nothing was ever proven—and Olivia's not-so-friendly reputation with, well, everyone.

Whispers and mutters were heard all around them—no one was trying to hide the fact that they were gawking over the family of four. Yet they still whispered as if they were telling the world's most dangerous secrets.

The four ignored them, used to the act by now, and stopped about two paces away from the train. Olivia turned to her family. It was times like this that the two adults—especially Clodagh—had to act as if they had an ounce of affection and love for their children.

The woman looked down at her daughter, trying to muster a saddened smile but failing horribly. The tall man that stood next to her had frowning eyes—his act was a bit more convincing—but if you looked close enough, you would see it was still fake.

Olivia didn't pay them any mind—in fact, she rolled her eyes at their expression and turned to her brother. There it was: real emotion—real sadness. Lucas's eyes welled with tears, but his face still remained cold—he was trying to be strong for the sake of image.

She could see the truth—he didn't want her to leave; he had certainly made that clear. Swallowing the forming lump in her throat as her own eyes filled with tears, she took a step forward, going to hug him. But when he took a step back, she stopped.

He's upset, Olivia. It's okay. Don't think too much of it. Don't cry. Don't be weak.

She breathed deeply, shifting her focus back to her parents. She reached for her trunk, which was still being held by her father. She had expected it to weigh her arm down once it was in her clutch again, but when she had full hold over it, it was almost as light as a feather.

Her eyes darted up to her father's. He sent her a small, almost unnoticeable smile, and that's when it hit her. He had put a weightless charm on it so that she—or possibly himself—didn't have to struggle carrying it.

She returned the faint smile. And when their eyes met—cobalt blue on sage green—she saw the same look from earlier—the one she couldn't quite place. A hint of sadness and guilt picked at his blue hues, causing confusion to run through Olivia. He tried to hide it, but he was just as terrible at doing that as his wife was at hiding her disgust for the people around them.

A strong urge to hug him washed over her, and she fought it. But after a moment, she gave up and wrapped her arms around his torso. He was tense, but she couldn't blame him. It had been the first time she had ever hugged him, and it probably would be the last.

She felt that if he hadn't married Satan's spawn, he would be somewhat of a good father. He didn't hug her back but just patted her head with his hand, trying to show a bit of fatherly love. He was receiving a glare from his wife, which caused him to pull Olivia away from him.

She stepped away from him and glanced over to her mother, who was looking at her with boredom as always. "You are going to be late, Olivia Katherine," Clodagh said flatly.

Olivia sighed, simply nodding at her mother. It was time. "Goodbye, ones I'm supposed to call my parents and Lucas," she deadpanned. Her eyes flickered across all of their faces, seeing exactly the same looks as before—when they were at their manor.

But she didn't make it very far. Her mother used her bony fingers to grab one of her arms, causing her to stop in her tracks. And when the younger girl faced the woman, she gave her a certain look that, well-hiddenly, sent a chill down Clodagh's spine.

"Don't be weak," the woman muttered, only loud enough for the three around her to hear. She let go of Olivia's arm.

Olivia didn't look at her mother for any longer as her gaze fell onto her brother.

Her eyes lingered on Lucas for a little longer, wondering if he was going to break his careless facade, but he didn't. She couldn't help but have a feeling of hurt peg at her heart as she turned around, her feet set in the path to the train.

She understood he was angry and upset—she was leaving him after all—but not to say at least a small goodbye was utterly and truthfully hurtful. She swallowed back the hurt, putting up her own careless facade.

Her feet carried her to the train, and just as she stepped onto the metal floor with a helping hand from one of the train elves, she heard her name—a soft, broken sob of her name. The voice was immediately recognizable, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips.

She turned around, her eyes immediately landing on her brother as he made his way over to her. She let a small—very small—smile take hold of her face. She stepped off the train, setting her trunk down. She barely had any time to straighten her spine before his slender arms were wrapped around her in a death-grip hug.

"Please don't go," he sobbed, sniffling into her shoulder.

Suddenly her smile and the hurt from him not uttering a goodbye to her faded into the barely-there breeze and were replaced with guilt—the same guilt she had been feeling that morning.

"Please don't leave me," he muttered, wrapping his arms a little tighter.

Every part of her being was ruined with guilt and hurt—she didn't want to leave, but she did want to go to Hogwarts. After all, it was her big dream. That school meant everything to her, even if she wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself.

She had a plan—she was going to get there, get sorted into Slytherin, focus on her studies, be the best in her class—in the school—she was going to be a Slytherin Prefect, and then, in her seventh year, she was going to be the Head Girl. That was her dream.

"Lucas..." she began, her voice breaking a little from his sobs. She felt so selfish. "Hey," she continued, pulling away from his embrace. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and his teary eyes looked at her with hurt. "It's only for a little bit; I'll be back for Yule and the summer, and then, next year, you'll be at Hogwarts with me," she explained for what felt like the millionth time. She hated repeating herself, but if it could give her brother a little bit of peace, she was happy to do so.

This time, her explanation hit him differently, but before he could say anything, the train horn blew, and she knew she had to leave. She removed her hands from his shoulders and picked up her trunk. When her eyes met his once more, the tears still streaming down his cheeks, he sent her a small nod. "I'll miss you," he muttered.

A small smile mustered its way onto her features once more, and she began walking to the train in small steps. "I'll miss you too, and we can always write to each other," she assured.

"Don't forget me while you're at Hogwarts," he laughed. It was a small laugh, barely noticeable, but even then, she was happy to see a small smile on his features—it had been weeks since she had seen that.

She stepped back on the train. "See you later, Luke," she muttered.

"See you later, Livvy," he responded as their parents walked behind him, their mother resting a slim hand on his shoulder.

Olivia stole one last glance at their features; her father still had the indecipherable look upon his sharp features, and her mother now had an annoyed—possibly angry—look on her face. Both looks were fairly familiar, yet so unfamiliar. 

The girl took a deep breath, then fully emerged onto the not-so-familiar train. Her shoes carried her through the corridors in search of an open compartment. Then, lo and behold, near the end of a pretty quiet and dark part of the train sat a completely empty compartment.

Her brows furrowed, wondering why and how this compartment was completely empty and untouched. Weird. She didn't let the thought ponder in her brilliant mind for long. Opening the door, she glanced around, making sure that no one was indeed in there. And when she could swear under Veritaserum that what she believed was true, she walked in and set her Mallard family crest-branded trunk on the seat, then she closed the door.

She was happy that she was going to be able to get some peace and quiet after the rushing morning she had. Letting out a sigh, she set her tote bag next to her—between her leg and her trunk—and pulled out her book.

At just eleven years old, Olivia already felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, and—she hated to admit it—she had a small little gleam of gratitude that she got one year at the school of witchcraft and wizardry just to herself, without Lucas. She loved her brother dearly and, of course, wished that he too was at Hogwarts, but she was tired of being his mother instead of his sister.

She wanted a break. She was only eleven, for Merlin's sake. She shouldn't have to take care of her little brother like he was her own child.

Taking in another breath, she opened her book to the page she had marked the night before. Firestarter was the name of the book—it was by some muggle author by the name of Stephen King. Olivia had read a few of his works and thought he was relatively good, both of which were things her parents—specifically her mother—would kill her for. But she didn't care. Good writing is good writing, regardless of who wrote it or where it came from.

Most would say the book was a large size for a girl her age, but Olivia was a certified genius and had been reading books like the one she had now for many, many years, so it was a bit of light reading, as one might say.

Her eyes scanned each line of the page as she began to get lost in the story of Charlie McGee and her fascinating abilities. Then, after a while, despite getting many hours of sleep the night before, Olivia's anchor-feeling eyes began to sink into the dark pits of the unexplored ocean.

She fell asleep, her head not-so-graciously landing on her trunk. Her book eventually fell from her hands as she grew deeper into her slumber. Her subconscious mind had become so immersed in the world that she had tried everything she could to avoid coming back to, that she hadn't even moved or woken when two others entered the compartment.

Two people sat across from her, not even paying attention to the sleeping girl as they got caught up in their banter. Her eyes raced back and forth from behind her tightly squeezed eyelids, the vivid visions of the other world—the one in her dreams—taking over her mind.

She jerked awake with a small gasp, catching the others' attention and stopping their back and forth. Olivia's slightly frightened eyes scanned the compartment, looking around to make sure she was still where she remembered, and then her eyes caught onto the wide ones of the two others.

Two boys sat across from her, one with pale, freckled skin, a messy pile of coffee curls sitting on top of his head, and almost colorless eyes—only a small hue of dusty blue; and the other had darker skin, shaved dark hair, and matching wondrous brown eyes.

She studied them for a moment, confusion lacing her intense stare. It was silent as the two boys continued to stare at her. An awkward smile overtook her expression. The two boys returned the gesture, their smiles just as awkward.

The boy with curly hair stuck his hand out, trying to get past the moment. Olivia glanced down at his hand as a cheesy grin made its way onto the boy's face. "Hey there, I'm Theodore Nott, but you can call me Theo." He smirked as she took his hand. "It's certainly a pleasure to meet you," he added, shooting her a wink.

As Olivia pulled her hand away from his, the other boy rolled his eyes. "Ignore him," the other boy said. "He flirts with every girl he meets," he added, causing Olivia's brows to raise slightly.

That was flirting?

Turning to face his friend with a rather offended look and furrowed brows. "I do not," Theodore defensively retorted. Then he turned to Olivia to utter the same defense at her. "I do not."

"Oh, I'm sure," she replied.

"Anyways," the other boy sighed, rolling his eyes again. He stuck out his hand just like his counterpart had mere moments ago. "I'm Blaise Zabini."

"Nice to meet you both." She took Blaise's hand and shook it. "I'm Olivia Mallard," she informed them, already knowing what was about to happen.

Both boys' eyes went wide again as Blaise dropped her hand. They looked at each other, then back at her, utter shock overtaking their expressions.

"Olivia Mallard?" Theodore began, his voice a little breathy. "As in the Olivia Mallard?"

"The one and only," she responded, a small, uncomfortable laugh escaping her lips. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with them knowing who she was—everyone knew who she was—but she knew that a million questions were about to come flying her way, and she was tired of all of the misconceptions about her and her family.

"Is it true that..." Blaise began. Oh, here we go. I wonder what it will be. Do I have the ability to turn people to stone? Kill with my gaze if I wanted? Killed some kid that was rude to my little brother? What weird and particularly false question is this one going to ask? "...that you're a parselmouth?" His voice went quieter, making sure he and the other two could hear.

Oh.

She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it closed, full of hesitation. Being a parselmouth was not well regarded in the Wizarding World due to the art being performed by and unique to dark wizards, including none other than He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

People will always be scared of what's unknown and different.

Screw it. She took a deep breath, and she could tell the suspense was just killing Blaise and Theodore. Her eyes met theirs, and all she saw was hope and admiration, not disgust and fear like she had been expecting. "Yes, it is true," she answered, straightening her spine. "But don't tell anyone."

The two boys looked at one another, then back at her. "Our lips are sealed," Blaise said as Theodore nodded in agreement.

"Good." Olivia leaned back in her seat.

The compartment fell silent after that. Their gazes fell onto the window, staring the sunset-colored sky. It was stunning, almost like a work of art. The colors were painted across the sky; they danced in the sky like a perfect ballet. It was awash in brilliant and glorious hues ranging from purples and blues to oranges and reds to deep and light yellow. It was truly beautiful.

When they got closer to arriving, Olivia decided that it was best she go and change into her robes. But there was one slight problem—if she opened her trunk there was no way she would be able to get it closed by herself and not make a fool out of herself in the process.

She glanced at the boys' who still stared out the window. She hadn't noticed before, but both of them were already dressed in their robes. "Uh..." she began, catching their attention. "I'm going to go change into my robes and when I get back, I'm going to need both of your help with something," she smiled, which wasn't something she did often and was quite uncomfortable.

They both raised their brows at her as she opened her trunk and pulled out her robes. She closed it back as best as she could, but didn't clasp it, seeing as though she couldn't.

She left the compartment, going to the restroom to change. And when she returned, she saw the boys staring at her. "Okay, so..." she sighed, closing the door of the compartment behind her. "My trunk may be a little overpacked, and I can't get it closed by myself, which I hate, so I need your help," she explained. It was weird to her. Asking for help, that is. She never asked for help unless it was from her brother or one of the house elves, and even then, it was rare.

"Okay," Blaise and Theodore muttered in unison. "How are we supposed to help you?" asked Blaise.

"Uh..." she laughed slightly, "you're both going to have to sit on top of the trunk, so I can clasp it closed." The look on their faces was priceless, and Olivia fought the smirk that tried to pry its way onto her lips.

"Absolutely not!" demanded Theodore. "We're going to look like bloody fools if someone walks by!" he whisper-yelled as if someone was listening to their conversation.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Don't you already look that way?" she asked, raising a single brow.

"No?" The boys responded with offense, lacing their tones.

"Right," she nodded, ignoring the looks they were giving her. "Alright, go on then, sit on the trunk," she ordered, gesturing a telling finger to her trunk that sat on the seat.

"No," Theodore argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to make a bloody fool out of my otherwise unfoolish self because you made the mistake of overpacking."

"You're not going to make a fool of yourself," she responded, trying to sound as convincing as she possibly could.

"The look on your face says otherwise."

After about ten minutes of going back and forth between Olivia and Theodore as Blaise just sat there, avoiding all of the moments they tried to pull him into the argument, Theo finally agreed, and the two boys were now sitting on top of her trunk.

Olivia was working on getting the clasps secured when something dawned on her. "Oh, wait, I have to put my bag in there," she told them, causing both boys to groan in annoyance.

She grabbed her bag from the seat next to her and took her wand out of it, putting it in her pocket. She noticed that her book was no longer there, on the seat or in her bag, which made her curious. Thinking back to when she last saw it, she remembered it was right before she had fallen asleep and came to the conclusion that she must've dropped it.

"Have you two seen my book?" she asked the boys, who still resided on top of her trunk, giving her an odd look.

She hummed in response, then moved to look under the seat.

"What are you looking for?" Theodore asked, causing her to roll her eyes.

She was crawling along the floor, and if someone walked by at that moment, she'd be the one making a fool out of herself, not the two boys sitting on a trunk. "My book," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it was.

"Oh," Theodore muttered, just before silence fell around the compartment once more.

After a moment of rummaging around the dirty wood floor, Olivia's eyes caught onto her book; it, of course, was at the very back, under her seat against the wall. Wonderful. She moved so that she could reach it, sticking her hand under the seat.

Her hand moved along the dirty floor until it finally landed on the hardcover. She struggled a bit to take hold of it, but when she finally did, she backed out from under the seat a little. But when she went to get up, she didn't realize that she wasn't out far enough. The top of her head hit the bottom of the seat, causing her to mutter, "Ow," as she rubbed her head.

She heard the boys snicker, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes again. As her hand continued to rub her head, it brushed against something on the bottom of the seat. It felt like a piece of parchment, which confused the girl. Why would a piece of parchment be on the bottom of the seat?

She moved out from under the seat, setting her book on top of it, and then she turned so that she was lying on her back on the hard floor. She looked at the bottom of the seat, and lo and behold, her suspicions were confirmed: there, taped to the bottom of the seat, was a piece of parchment folded up like a letter.

Olivia grabbed a hold of it and pulled it off, making sure to be gentle so it wouldn't tear.

"What are you doing?" she heard Theo ask.

She didn't answer; instead, she moved out from under the seat once more, got up, and then sat down. Before she could peel open the letter, the train came to a stop. They had arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Olivia quickly put the letter, or whatever it was, in her book, using it as a bookmark, and then turned to her trunk. She'd have to explore the mystery paper's contents later on.

"Get up," she told the boys, which they quickly did. She put her tote bag and book in her trunk, then gestured for the boys to get back on top of her trunk, which they did.

Once she had it closed, she, Theodore, and Blaise made their way out of the compartment and off the train. And when they arrived on the platform, they saw many people, some around their age and some older, all of them students at Hogwarts. A half-giant stood off to the side of them. Olivia recognized him as Hogwarts' gamekeeper, Hagrid.

The bearded man waved his large hand as he called out, "Right, then! First years! This way, please!" He paused. "Come on, now, don't be shy!" He waved his hand again, his voice loud enough to be heard all down the platform. "Come on now, hurry up!" And with that, he walked away, still calling the words as the first years started following, including Olivia, Theodore, and Blaise.

When they arrived at the Black Lake, which was full of small boats, Hagrid informed them that there was a four-to-one boat ratio. And Theodore wasted no time in seizing Olivia's and Blaise's hands and dragging them to one of the boats.

The three eleven-year-olds climbed into a boat, with Blaise and Olivia sitting in the front and Theodore sitting in the back holding the torch. A girl walked up to the boat and went to get in, but when she recognized the three already there, she quickly walked away, going to another boat. They were confused, but they shrugged it off.

Once the boats started moving, Olivia's focus caught on the castle they were approaching. Her eyes lit up, and she didn't know what to feel at that moment. She couldn't believe she was finally going to be at Hogwarts. It was so close—right in front of her. All of her dreams were coming true.

But Lucas...

There was an ocean of stars in the sky, shining like little crystals. The moon was bright, sending an iridescent glow onto the water in front of them. The void of the water and the sky brought Olivia peace; everything was perfect.

And when they finally arrived and were out of the boats and on the magical soil of Hogwarts, Olivia's heart felt full. It was racing; she was nervous—she was never nervous, but she was nervous at that moment—not about the most common worry of the students, which house they would be sorted into, but about being at Hogwarts.

She already knew that she would be in Slytherin, and even at the mere age of eleven, she already had a reputation in the Wizarding World, and it wasn't a good one. But she didn't want to live up to that reputation, either her own or Slytherin's.

But how are you supposed to be good when everyone, including your parents, expect you to be bad? It was a losing game that Olivia would try her damnedest to win...

even if it killed her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
hi, so this is the rewritten version of chapter one! i hope you liked it bc this literally took me WEEKS to write (iykyk)

also, i forgot to mention it in the intro chapter, but olivia and draco aren't best friends from the start—their relationship will build throughout first year, and carry on from there.

be sure to comment and vote!

kisses

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS,         june 2023

word count: 7105. written: 6.8.23. published: 6.8.23.