BORN TO DIE     ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ .  written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
002  ━━━━━  ❛ the sorting ceremony ❜

Her dreams were real. Olivia Mallard was about to enter the wondrous school known as Hogwarts, accompanied by Theodore, Blaise, and the other first years. Her shoes sounded against the hard floor as her pale green eyes took in her surroundings with nothing but amazement—not that she'd ever admit that.

She could hear the gasps of excitement coming from the ones around her—or maybe they were coming from her; she didn't know. Her mind was too occupied imagining her life there; she didn't hear Theodore and Blaise bickering back and forth.

They walked up a set of stairs, moving portraits staring at them with curiosity, trying to identify the new lot of students. Around the portraits, strewn over the stone walls, were lit candles, casting a soft yellow glow.

Olivia felt different there already—well, maybe it wasn't her that felt different, perhaps it was Hogwarts itself. It felt different from any other place she had been; the energy was strong, and it was full of life and happiness; she could feel it in her bones.

She walked up the stairs, her eyes now trained on where she was walking, so she didn't run into anyone and make a fool of herself. Then, once all of the students were at a stop, her eyes met those of an older lady—one she recognized to be Professor McGonagall. The woman tapped her bony fingers on the railing of the staircase, a bored-looking expression on her face.

The professor waited for everyone to settle before she made her way forward. Olivia took a glance at Theodore, who sent her a charming smile, which she ignored as the professor began speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Her aging voice had a hint of a Scottish accent. She stared at the students through her oval-shaped spectacles. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates." She pointed to the doors behind her. "But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."

Olivia was excited but also had a nagging feeling of fear lingering in the back of her mind. Slytherin was her house—she knew it was. It was also her parents' house, and hopefully, it was going to be her brother's house when his time to attend Hogwarts came. But she couldn't shake the doubt she had.

What if she didn't get into Slytherin? What if she made her whole family look like a bunch of fools? What if she made herself look like a fool? A disappointment? What if she was weak? She didn't know why she was worrying—she never worried.

"They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Olivia didn't miss the distaste that overcame McGonagall's face as she said the last house name and glanced over at a particular blonde boy that Olivia recognized all too well.

Olivia rolled her eyes at the sight of his obnoxious hair. She felt the small heat of anger brewing beneath her skin, but she wasn't going to do anything yet. Olivia's mother hated the Malfoys, so she made her children hate the Malfoys, despite the fact that Lucas didn't hate anyone. Olivia, on the other hand, did hate people—basically everyone under the sun. And besides, Draco Malfoy was an arrogant piece of sh-

"Now, while you're here, your house will be like your family," the woman continued. "Your triumphs will earn you house points; any rule breaking, and you will lose points." She paused, taking another look at the children in front of her, making sure everyone was paying attention. "At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."

The mention of the house cup piqued Olivia's interest, but before she could ponder on it too long, a boy jumped forward. "Trevor!" he called out, reaching for something at McGonagall's feet. He was receiving a particular look from the professor that he wasn't aware of until he looked up. "Sorry," he muttered, moving away from and back to where he previously stood as some students laughed.

"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily," McGonagall said just before walking away and going into, no doubt, the Great Hall.

Theodore and Blaise picked up their ridiculous banter, talking about some nonsense that Olivia didn't pay attention to. Her eyes roamed the faces around her—some of them she recognized from events her family had attended; some she didn't; they must've been muggle-borns or half-bloods, or she just simply hadn't met them before. Either way, she didn't recognize them, which made her curious about what tales they held.

She loved to hear people's stories—pure-bloods, half-bloods, and muggle-borns alike. She didn't care where you were from, who your family was, or what your blood status was. Everyone had a story, and every story was unique, and she liked to listen.

"It's true, then, what they're saying on the train." Draco's familiar voice rang in her ears. She was facing away from him, so she didn't know who he was talking to, and she didn't particularly care. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." Hearing this, her attention was immediately captured. Well, maybe she did care.

When she turned around, she saw Malfoy talking to a brunette boy whose back she could only see. Whispers and mutters filled the air around them in an instant; everyone was now paying close attention to the conversation.

She assumed that Malfoy had done that on purpose; he said that name loud enough to catch the wandering eyes of others—he loved attention, after all. Hell, even Theodore and Blaise were paying attention; their banter was momentarily on hold.

Harry Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived, was at Hogwarts. Olivia couldn't believe it, and that showed in her wide eyes. She had heard the tale of the boy, though part of her always believed he was a myth—some made-up tale that the people who lived through the first wizarding war concocted to give the world some hope. But there he was, not even a mere ten feet in front of her.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said to the boys standing beside him. Olivia inched closer, but not too close; she didn't want to look like a creep. She watched as the gray-eyed boy stepped closer to the famous boy. "And I'm Malfoy—Draco Malfoy." Draco's smirk spread across his face. Olivia would normally scoff at such arrogance, but she was too preoccupied with the Potter boy to do so.

A snicker came from the red-headed boy who stood next to Harry, catching both Draco and Olivia's attention. She was a mere foot or two away from the interaction, and she just stood there, trying not to make her fascination with the conversation or, more specifically, the people who inhabit it, obvious.

Draco glared at the boy, a sour look overtaking his face. "You think my name's funny, do you?" The blonde boy seethed. "I have no need to ask yours," he scowled, staring the boy down. "Red hair and a hand-me-down robe?" He paused. "You must be a Weasley." He said the name with such disgust that Olivia could feel it in her soul.

She watched as Draco looked away from the Weasley boy, who now had a discouraged look on his face, and turned to Potter. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter." Draco took a glance at the redhead once more. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," he said, sticking his hand out for Harry to shake. "I can help you there."

Harry took a short glance at Malfoy's hand, then looked back at him with a glare. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," the famous boy said, his eyes still narrowed at Malfoy.

Shutting down Malfoy's arrogance? Olivia liked him already.

As Draco went to say something, presumably a curse judging from the look on his face, Olivia quickly moved beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder. She sent a sweet, yet fake, smile to the two boys that stood in front of them. "Sorry about him; it looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she joked, causing all three boys to look at her with confusion.

She didn't say anything, and neither did they, as she dragged Draco away. He just stared at her with confusion the entire time she pulled him over to Theodore and Blaise, who were back in their deep conversation about something Olivia still couldn't care less about.

When she stopped next to the two boys, they looked at her and Draco with furrowed brows. She ignored the looks and turned to Draco, who began to speak. "You're Olivia Mallard," he said, his eyes lighting up a bit as if they hadn't met before.

"I am," she replied. "And you are?" she asked, putting a very convincing look of unfamiliarity on her face. She knew exactly who he was, but his being offended by her disregard was something she wanted to witness. And oh, how the look on his face when he heard the words made her want to laugh.

But she didn't, of course; she remained silent as he said, "I'm Draco Malfoy." The offended look on his face was all too pleasing for Olivia to see.

"Oh, right," she nodded, acting as if it wasn't a big deal—which it wasn't. "I think my mother mentioned your mother before, something about how she hates her..." she paused. "I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't really pay any attention to what my mother says."

"Oh, well, I hope that won't stop us from being friends," he said, a twinge of hopefulness filling his voice—hopefulness that Olivia was about to crush with great honor.

"That won't stop us from being friends, no," she started. "But I don't really see us as friends—sorry," she told him, not a single droplet of pity filling her voice. And Draco could've sworn he saw a hint of a smile on her face as she said this.

Before he could say anything else, McGonagall came back out, saying, "We're ready for you now." She stopped in the same spot as before. "Follow me."

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

They walked through the double doors of the Great Hall. Their eyes caught on to the beauty of it all. The students sat at long tables, presumably from their respective houses. The ceiling shone like the night sky, with its beautiful dancing and shimmering stars and its bright moon. It was bewitched with magic, of course, but still truly wonderful in its beauty. The professors sat at the front of the hall, including none other than Professor—or Headmaster—Dumbledore himself.

Eyes from all around landed on them as they were led to the front by Professor McGonagall. Olivia began to get nervous again. Her eyes scanned the whole area but ultimately landed on the three boys in front of her. Crabbe and Goyle, aka Malfoy's bodyguards, had now joined them. 

And when they finally came to a stop at the front of the Great Hall, her eyes caught each of the esteemed professors. Headmaster Dumbledore sat in a seat that was placed in the middle of the table. Her gaze scanned over the other professors, some of whom she didn't recognize all that well, and then she saw Professor Snape at the end of the table. She recognized him right away, as he was a "friend" of her parents.

"Will you wait along here, please?" McGonagall asked. She walked up to stand in front of the table. "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words," she called out to the lot in the room.

The old man stood, his large stature intimidating those around Olivia. He walked to the old pedestal with an owl on it. "I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce," he began, his voice booming through the hall. "First years, please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students." He paused. "Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you." And with that, he sat back down.

His "start-of-term notes" caught Olivia off guard. Why did he say it so nonchalantly? And what was so scary and forbidden about the third-floor corridor? These thoughts were bound to get her into trouble, but still, she was curious as ever.

McGonagall began speaking without haste. "When I call your name, you will come forth; I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your house," she explained, unrolling a rather large scroll. "Hermione Granger," she began.

Olivia didn't listen much after that; just when the woman called Draco's name, her attention was captured for some reason unknown to her. She watched as he walked to the stool and sat down. McGonagall made her way over to him with the musty old hat. And before it could even touch his head, the hat was yelling, "Slytherin!"

Everyone at the Sytherin table cheered as he walked over to it. And after they settled down, a few more people went, including Ronald Weasley, the boy that Draco had picked on. Then it was Harry Potter's turn.

The Great Hall went silent when they heard his name called. Everyone must've wanted the great Harry Potter to be in their house. Olivia was focused on him, watching as he walked over to the stool, sat down, had the hat placed on his head, then began whispering something under his breath.

And finally, after a moment, the hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" The Gryffindor table started cheering loudly as a very bright and happy smile overcame Harry's face. The hat was taken off his head, and then he walked to the table, joining Hermione and Ronald.

"Olivia Mallard," McGonagall called next, but this time her voice was shaky, almost trembling.

The room went silent. A devilish smile came to Olivia's face. She began walking as some called out, "Oh look, it's the embodiment of evil; I wonder what house she'll get!" A few people laughed, but she ignored them as Dumbledore told them to be quiet.

She walked through the crowd of first-year students, nudging some of them out of her way, then went to the stool. She sat down, the smile now gone from her face and a cold look overtaking her expression. McGonagall put the hat on Olivia's head, and then her sorting began.

"Mhm," the hat hummed. "A Mallard girl, aye?" It paused. "Interesting—yes, you're just like your mother."

"I am nothing like my mother," Olivia whispered, her lip slightly curling up with offense.

"Oh, but you are," it said. "Evil, cunning, cruel, and selfish," it began to list off. "You're a monster, just like her." Those words shocked Olivia. She must not have heard it right, right?

But she knew she had. Anger began to rise throughout her body. You're the reason they're the way they are; you're the reason their innocence was taken from them; they're monsters like you. The lit candles that hung on the ceiling began to flicker as the memories flooded her mind.

The great hall was still silent. They were watching her intently. She felt as if she couldn't breathe, like the air in her lungs had been sucked out and they were now being crushed. She was furious. And if looks could kill, there would've been a massacre the night of September 1st, 1991.

But hearing the hat call out, "Slytherin!" knocked her out of her trance. Now she wasn't angry. No, she felt like crying for some reason, but she wasn't going to do that—not in front of all of these people; she wasn't going to be weak. Her anger settled, along with the flames of the candles.

It was like the air had unfrozen, like it had been put back in her lungs. She could breathe again. Slytherin cheered for her as she stood and walked over to them once McGonagall had sheepishly removed the hat from her head.

Olivia walked—no, stomped—to the Slytherin table, and when she stopped to sit down, many people moved so that they weren't near her. The only person who didn't move was Draco. He sat with a small smile on his face as he watched her sit down in front of him, not returning his gesture.

The ceremony continued after that, and people quickly forgot about what had happened. The remainder of the ceremony escaped Olivia's attention. Theodore and Blaise were sorted into Slytherin and sat at the table with her and Draco, as well as two girls she somewhat recognized—Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson.

When the feast appeared on the table, her eyes fell on it. She filled her plate with food but only picked at it as the others scarfed theirs down. Theodore and Blaise continued on with their conversation from earlier. Daphne and Pansy also began talking to one another. But Draco, on the other hand, kept trying to get Olivia's attention, but she ignored him.

You're a monster, just like her. Those were the only words that filled her mind.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

The feast was over, and the Slytherins were being led to the common room by the Slytherin Prefects. Olivia was in the back, minding her own business, as Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, and Draco joined her. She ignored them, walking in front of them.

When they reached what appeared to be a blank wall after walking through the dungeons, one of the prefects whispered the password, and a door appeared. It opened, and the common room was revealed in all of its black, silver, and green-decorated glory. The prefects allowed the first years to go first, then they followed.

Once everyone was in the common room, the prefects went in front of them. The younger ones' wandering gazes fell upon the two older students, who sent them small smiles. "The password to the common room is pure blood; don't forget that, or you won't be able to enter," the boy said.

Very creative, Olivia thought, rolling her eyes.

"The boys' dorms are up the stairs to the right, and the girls' are to the left," the girl said. "You will find your names on plaques hanging next to the doors." She smiled again. "Now, off to bed; it's late and past curfew, and we all have classes in the morning."

It was silent for a moment, with the prefects waiting for someone to speak up. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" they said in unison when no one asked any questions. Then they walked away, the girl to the left and the boy, of course, to the right.

Olivia didn't hesitate to follow in the girl's footsteps. She walked to the stairs leading to the girls' dorms, then began walking up them. Many other girls trailed behind her in pursuit of their own dorms. They all walked down the length of the hall, searching each plaque for their names, and when Olivia caught sight of hers, she stopped at the door.

She looked at the names on the plaque: O. Mallard, P. Parkinson, and D. Greengrass were engraved into the gold.

She ignored the girls that stopped next to her, and she opened the door. As she entered, she scanned the room, seeing three beds, three desks, and three wardrobes. Off to the side of the room was a bathroom. On one of the desks sat three keys, presumably for each of the girls.

Olivia walked to the desk and took one of the keys, then made her way over to the bed with her trunk on it. Pansy and Daphne followed suit, going to their own beds.

She opened her trunk and began unpacking. She put her book on her nightstand, not forgetting about the piece of paper being used as a bookmark. Then she began hanging her clothes, as Pansy and Daphne did the same. Once she was done with that, she put her trunk beside her bed.

She was exhausted—too exhausted to take a shower that night, but she knew she would in the morning. She sat down on her bed, took off her shoes and robe, put her wand on her nightstand, and laid down. She closed her eyes, not caring if she fell asleep or if the dream returned.

But when Pansy began speaking to her, her eyes opened. "Olivia," Pansy began, causing the black-haired girl to face her. "It's Olivia, right?" she asked, receiving a nod in return. "Oh, okay, uh, I've heard a lot about you, and I was wondering if we could be friends?" She softly smiled. "I mean, we're already sharing a dorm, so I think it would be good."

Olivia looked at her with a tired look. She couldn't help but feel as if Pansy wanted to be friends with her because of who she was. I've heard a lot about you. "Sure," Olivia muttered.

"Oh, great!" she cheered. "And Daphne too, of course," she added, looking between the two girls.

"Yes, of course," Olivia said. And with that, she laid back down, facing away from the two girls. She was still dressed in her uniform, but she didn't care. She drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes. All of the worries were clouding her mind.

She would never admit it aloud, but she already missed the place that she was supposed to call home—she missed Lucas, Bobbin, and Trinky.

The nightmare didn't fail her that night—the faceless man, the chained-up adults, the scared and crying children—it was all there, haunting her mind.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
this feels kinda rushed ngl and it's not my favorite thing in the world, but the words were not wording lmao

olivia >> the sorting hat frfr

n e ways, despite the fact that i don't completely like this chapter, i hope you enjoyed it and continue reading this book !!

kisses.

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

word count: 3751.   written: 6.28.23.   published: 6.28.23.