BORN TO DIE ╱ DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
076 ━━━━━━━ ❛ that man's a fake ❜

Standing in Snape's office, Olivia paced, crossing the room repeatedly. Cedric was dead, and it was all her fault. She had moved in front and then out of the way when Pettigrew shot the killing curse. She'd just hadn't wanted to get hit again. She'd gone through that once before, and she couldn't do it again. Snape, her mother, her father, and Lucas watched her as she went back and forth, clearly seeing that her mind was scattered, but none of them did or said anything.

"What should we do?" Clodagh asked, looking over at Snape and her husband. Both of them just gave her a blank look, neither knowing what to do either. It was quite sad, two of them being parents, not knowing how to help their own daughter while she was in full panic mode. The woman's eyes then went to her son, who stood just a bit shorter than her, despite his growth spurt over the summer. "Lucas, you know how to handle this, right?"

"I find it's best just to let her handle this on her own," the boy replied. He knew that when Olivia got this way, she got snappy, and it wasn't good for anyone if they bothered her while she was snappy. She'd bite their heads right off—figuratively speaking, of course.

"I happen to agree," Snape added with his monotone drawl.

Olivia continued to go back and forth, from one side of the room to the other, mumbling to herself, "This is all my fault." She tangled her fingers in her hair, slightly pulling at the roots. "Cedric is dead. Voldemort is back." She thought back to the graveyard, thinking of the dark wizard and his sidekick, who had used an Unforgivable against the innocent boy. Then her thoughts turned to the Death Eaters, who had appeared when summoned by their master. Four of their names hit a little closer to home than the others. "Theodore's father is a Death Eater. Crabbe and Goyle's fathers are Death Eaters." Then she remembered the white-blonde hair, gray eyes, and pale skin—all of it just a little bit older than what she knew all too well. "Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater." Her voice was still barely above a whisper, but a little louder than before.

It was loud enough for the others to hear.

Clodagh glanced at her husband, giving him a slightly wide-eyed look as he returned it with raised brows. Then they focused back on their daughter, who was crossing the room once more. "What did you say?"

Olivia didn't respond, not even hearing her due to her thoughts being too noisy in her mind.

The woman just rushed over to her daughter. "Olivia!" Her hands grabbed a hold of the girl's arms, stopping her from moving and forcing her to face her. Olivia's eyes were large, staring at the one in front of her with confusion and a slight shock. "What did you just say about Lucius Malfoy?" Clodagh's eyes searched Olivia's, like she'd find the answers she was looking for in them.

"What?" Olivia breathed out, furrowing her brows. "That Lucius Malfoy is a..."

Before she could even finish her sentence, the door of Snape's office swung open, and everyone looked over at it. Clodagh and Olivia both took a step back from each other, with the mother dropping her hands from her daughter's arms and both of them straightening their spines.

In the doorway stood Dumbledore, alongside McGonagall. Both professors looked worried as their eyes took in the group in the classroom. "Severus, we must get to Alastor's office now, and we need Veritaserum! He's not who we think he is," the Headmaster told him urgently, causing Clodagh to share a confused look with her husband as Olivia and Lucas did the same with each other.

Snape wasted no time in rushing towards a cabinet in the classroom, grabbing a vial of truth-telling potion, and then to the man and his companion, not even sparing a glance in the Mallards' directions. It didn't matter, however, because as the three professors hurried out of the doorway and into the corridor, they had four people on their trail, following them to their destination. They hadn't been told they couldn't go after all. And curiosity was a weakness that they all shared, for better or for worse.

Once the professors stopped at the heavy door and the Mallards stopped behind them, which earned an odd glance from Snape over his shoulder, Dumbledore raised his wand and cast, "Expelliarmus!" The door burst open as a bright blue light shone in their eyes, causing Olivia to step back at the force, and the office was revealed. The spell made its way over to Moody, the one who apparently wasn't who they thought he was. Who was he, then? Olivia asked herself in her mind. The power of Dumbledore's magic knocked the man forcefully back into the chair behind him.

The group rushed into the classroom. The professors went over to Moody, and Dumbledore placed his hand on the man's neck, pushing him further back into the chair, and kept his wand raised and directed at the suspect in the other. "Severus," he said, telling the professor to give the man the potion without actually telling him fully.

Snape fiddled with the cork in the vial while Olivia and Lucas stood next to Harry, and their parents stood in front of them, next to McGonagall and a foot or so behind Dumbledore and Snape. When the vial was open, the dark-haired professor dumped its contents into Mad-Eye's, or whomever he was's, mouth, and then Dumbledore forced him to swallow it.

"Do you know who I am?" Dumbledore inquired, gripping tighter onto the front of the professor's coat as Snape lifted his own wand in the questioned person's direction.

"Albus Dumbledore," the man replied, sounding as if he were still gurgling the potion down.

"Are you Alastor Moody?" The Headmaster then asked. He didn't get a response, so he shook him again, repeating his words more urgently. "Are you?"

"No," Moody—not-Moody answered.

Olivia's eyes went wide as she looked over at her brother, seeing the same exact expression on his face. Their parents even seemed to be taken aback by this new information, their expressions showing a hint of shock as they glanced at one another. Now it was obvious that he was someone using Polyjuice Potion to look like Mad-Eye Moody, given his response. But if he wasn't Moody, then who was he? Why was he there? Did it have something to do with the tournament? Did he put Olivia's name in the Goblet of Fire? And where was the real Mad-Eye?

"Is he in this room?" Dumbledore continued with his interrogation of the fraud. "Is he in this room!?" His face was turning red, showcasing his anger rising as his wand was pointed at the impostor with more aggression.

Fake Mad-Eye glanced over to the trunk that the three teenagers were standing next to. And everyone followed his line of sight.

"You three, away from there!" Dumbledore ordered, gesturing for them to move away.

They did as told and sidestepped around the trunk. Olivia's eyes remained on the impersonator as she, Potter, and Lucas moved to stand behind the adults. Snape opened the trunk with a spell, aiming his wand at the lock. Her parents stood behind the three professors, while Lucas and Potter were behind her. Her mind rambled with thoughts and questions, all of which were for the man sitting in the chair in front of her. She wasn't sure if she'd get another chance to ask what she wanted—if she would even be allowed to—so she took this opportunity in front of her and stepped closer.

"Are you the one who's been trying to kill me all year?" She asked him with a tone full of anger, and her eyes narrowed. Her fists balled at her sides. If she hadn't been meant to ask him any questions of her own, no one stopped her, and she was grateful for that.

She watched as the man held his mouth closed, as if he were physically trying to keep his answer in. She could feel her mother's eyes find the back of her head, but she didn't pay her any mind, not even letting her know she was aware of her staring. "Are you?" Her voice turned a little louder as the trunk opened and the adults stepped forward.

"Yes," he finally answered, seeming annoyed. "I needed to get you out of the way so that Potter could win. I messed with the merpeople, making them want to attack you. And I bewitched Krum, sending him after you," he continued, narrowing his eyes.

"What about the hallucinations?"

His expression turned confused. "What hallucinations?"

This surprised her, as she barely opened her mouth as if she were going to retort. Her brows knitted together, but she decided not to go on with it anymore. "Are you the one who put my name into the Goblet of Fire?" She went on, ridding the shock from her expression and taking a step closer. She could sense her mother's looming presence behind her, placing her curiosity in both the trunk and her daughter's questions for the man. And perhaps his answer too.

"No," he admitted, his own gaze narrowing.

Olivia furrowed her brows, almost scowling at him. "Then who did?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he replied, almost snarkily, like he had one over her. But he was under the effects of Veritaserum; he couldn't lie. He could deceive, though—he could have an idea but not know for certain. He could believe someone did it, but it wasn't a fact, so therefore, he didn't have to say it.

If he didn't do it, then who did? He didn't have an answer for her, and she couldn't think of one herself. Her first thought would've been Daphne, but the girl was the same age as her—not old enough to put forth a name into the Goblet—and she couldn't have used an age potion either, seeing how well that went for the Weasley twins. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew Daphne was smarter than that. Then she thought about her mother, knowing how horrible that was—suspecting her own mother of entering her into a dangerous tournament that people have died in. The woman never liked her anyway. But she remembered how she reacted when she found out about her being a champion. It didn't make any sense for her to have done it. And her father wouldn't have done it either—he wasn't that cruel, and neither of them had access to the Goblet anyway.

She let out a sigh.

She had no idea who it could be. It had to be fake Moody, but how did he deny it while under a truth potion? It wasn't possible. And why was her name put forth? She understood Potter because Voldemort needed him to come back in full strength and wanted to kill him, but why her?

She felt a hand on her arm, pulling her backward and further away from the man as she snapped out of her trance. It was then that she realized just how close she had gotten to him. She had been so lost in her mind that he could have grabbed her wand and used it against them. He could've done something dangerous. Her eyes found her brother's, who had been the one to guide her away from the impostor, seeing them full of worry. Usually, she would offer a smile to ease him, but in that moment, she couldn't seem to muster one.

"You all right, Alastor?" Dumbledore inquired as he and the others peered down into the trunk.

"I'm sorry, Albus," the real Moody responded, his voice echoing from where he was at the bottom of the trunk.

Olivia and Lucas moved closer, standing next to Potter and looking down at where everyone else was. "That's Moody, but then who's..." The Golden Boy's voice fell short, full of confusion to match his expression. His eyes found Olivia's and Lucas's, and the girl shrugged.

She was wondering the exact same thing.

Snape lifted fake Moody's flask to his nose, smelling its contents like a hound dog searching for a scent as everyone watched him closely. "Polyjuice Potion," he informed Dumbledore.

"Now we know who's been stealing from your stores, Severus," the older man replied, causing Snape to glance at Potter while he looked down into the trunk again. We'll get you up in a minute," the Headmaster called down to Moody, who had his hand covering the side of his face, probably where his fake eye—that was currently occupied—was supposed to be.

The man just groaned in response, probably hungry, tired, and unwell.

Then there was grunting coming from behind them, and everyone turned to watch fake Moody's face almost melted and distorted, caving in some places and drooping in others. It was nasty-looking and made Olivia's stomach churn uncomfortably as she grimaced. He lifted his hand, pulling off the fake eye as the effects of Polyjuice Potion seemed to be wearing off, and tossed it to the ground. Then he screamed like he was in pain—Olivia didn't blame him for that; it looked rather painful. His head jerked from side to side a few times before he threw it back and then down, hunching his shoulders. His face was now completely back to normal, appearing as he should. But now he wasn't Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, former Auror turned professor anymore—now he was...

"Is that?" Olivia and Lucas's father began.

The girl looked up at him and then her mother, seeing them both staring down at the one sitting in front of them with shock and confusion written on their faces. It was safe to assume that they knew him.

Potter bent down, looking at the impostor right in the face. But then formly-fake Moody jumped at him, standing quickly as he yelled like a madman.

"Harry!" Dumbledore shouted, pulling the boy back as everyone stepped back. Then he pushed the man back into his seat as McGonagall and Snape moved forward, pointing their wands at him. "Barty Crouch Junior," Dumbledore identified, seeming to confirm Olivia's parents' suspicions.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Crouch Jr. said, breathing heavily, then lifted his sleeve. There, just on the skin of his left forearm, was the dark mark, loud and clear. Olivia's eyes slightly widened as she and everyone else stared down at the sign of the Dark Lord.

"Your arm, Harry." Dumbledore grabbed ahold of Potter's arm, not taking his eyes off of the mark. He pulled the boy, who was wincing in pain, forward and showcased the nasty cut on his forearm from Pettigrew's knife.

Potter just breathed heavily as a smirk curled at Crouch Jr.'s lips. "You know what this means, don't you?" he inquired knowingly, staring up at Dumbledore. "He's back." Then his eyes found the gash on Potter's arm. "Lord Voldemort has returned."

Olivia felt her parents take a step closer to her and Lucas.

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't help it," Potter admitted.

Olivia's heart pegged. She couldn't help it, either.

"Send an owl to Azkaban," Dumbledore told McGonagall. "I think they'll find they're missing a prisoner." And the woman went on her way, exiting the office.

"I'll be welcomed back like a hero," Crouch Jr. retorted as Dumbledore turned away and began guiding Potter, Olivia, and Lucas out of the room.

"Perhaps. Personally, I've never had much time for heroes," he replied.

Olivia glanced over her shoulder just as Crouch Jr. tried standing up from his seat, but her parents and Snape raised their wands at him, causing him to look between the three of them as he sat back down. She faced forward, feeling emptiness in her stomach, and then her eyes found Potter. He was already staring at her, both of them fully feeling the effects of that day at that moment.

She had a feeling this was only the beginning.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Lucas and Olivia walked into the common room after parting ways with Dumbledore and Potter on the upper floor and walking to the dungeons. Their eyes immediately landed on their friends, who were sitting on the couches, seeming to be waiting for them. Crabbe and Goyle weren't there, however, which meant there were two fewer people for Olivia to question. But they would have to wait until later.

Ignoring the others' concerned looks as they stood up from the couches, Olivia focused solely on Draco as he did the same to her. They just stared at each other for a moment before she began walking forward with determined steps.

"Olivia," he began in a mutter. But before he could say anymore, she grabbed his wrist and started dragging him along with her. Lucas just went over to the others, and they all watched her. "Where are we going?"

His question was answered when she led him up the right staircase and to his room.

When they entered through the door, she let go of his wrist as he shut it behind them. She began pacing around as he watched her, her mind running wild with questions. His father was a Death Eater; that was clear. But did he know that his father was one? Had he been lying to her after the attack at the World Cup about his father's involvement? Or had he been telling the truth? Was Draco utterly clueless as to what his father did behind closed doors? Or did he have a sneaking suspicion? Would he ever tell anyone? Or would he let his father continue doing the horrible things he was doing? Did he agree with him? Did he think that it was the right thing to do?

Did he?

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, the last question repeating in her mind, turning to face him with a gaze full of hesitation and worry. His expression matched hers as he stared back at her. Then she moved forward a few steps, his eyes following her every move. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. "Did you know?" she asked, not specifying what.

His brows furrowed, seeming confused. "What are you on about?"

She opened her mouth to speak, to bring up the fact that his father was still a loyal Death Eater, but she couldn't bring herself to actually say it. What if he didn't know? What if he'd truly thought his father had changed? What if she ruined the only bit of respect he had left for the man? What if she ruined everything? Her mouth closed as she just stared at him with pinched brows and a tortured look twisting her face. He just continued to stare at her, searching for the answers in her eyes. Then she huffed out a breath, stepping forward and grabbing his left arm. He watched her closely, his expression still confused with knitted brows. She unbuttoned the cuff of his button-up and pushed his sleeve up. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw nothing. Just blank, untouched porcelain skin. There is no mark to match his father. Nothing.

When she looked up at him, she saw something flicker in his eye. Familiarity and hurt. She despised that he was looking at her like that, but she didn't—and couldn't—blame him for it. He had known what she was looking for, and he was upset that she had been looking for it in the first place. But she would not have been surprised if his forearm had been marked. That realization pegged her heart and made her gut churn painfully. It made her feel as if she wanted to sob.

Everything was so screwed up.

She took a deep breath and looked away from him, moving to sit down on his bed. She plopped down, putting her hands over her face. She was not going to cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of anyone. She wouldn't do it. Her mind was all over the place, so full of shock that she hadn't even registered all of the injuries she had gotten—bruises and cuts, sore ribs and body. But none of it even matched what had happened to Potter and Cedric.

She felt the bed dip beside her, and she removed her hands from her face, finding Draco staring at her. "Are you all right, Liv?" he asked softly, brushing some of her hair behind her ear.

Her chin wobbled as she looked away from him, holding in her tears. "Cedric's death is all my fault," she told him in a whisper. Her eyes focused on the floor and only the floor, as if her gaze were glued to it. "Voldemort was there... in the graveyard that we went to after we touched the cup. I-It was a Portkey," she continued. "He told Peter Pettigrew to kill the girl and the spare... me and Diggory, and when"—a small sob broke free—"when the curse was shot at me, I moved out of the way because I—I didn't want to go through that again; I couldn't do it. I couldn't feel like I did the first time again; it was horrible." She paused, shaking her head gently as she thought back. "And the curse... It hit Cedric instead, and he..." She felt like she couldn't breathe. "He—"

And then she broke. Her sobs took over, not allowing her to finish her words.

Draco pulled her closer and into his chest, a pained look on his face as his brows pinched. He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it down as his chin rested on the top of her head. Olivia just continued crying, no longer caring about showing weakness in front of him. She moved so that she could wrap her arms around his neck and rest her head on his shoulder as he held her tighter and closer as she just continued to cry.

His touch and hold brought her the comfort she needed in that moment.

It made her feel safe.

He made her feel safe, and she never wanted that feeling to leave.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
i'm curious to know who y'all think put olivia's name in the goblet of fire teehee

make sure to comment and vote!!

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS,        may 2024

word count: 3721.   written: 4.29-30.24.   published: 5.15.24.