BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
086 ━━━━━ ❛ we must not misbehave ❜

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post; is that correct?" Umbridge asked Snape as she walked behind him, holding a clipboard and quill.

He just stared forward with a blank expression.

They were in the man's classroom. They'd been in the middle of a lesson when the pink-wearing witch walked in and interrupted, needing to ask Snape some questions, which was what she was doing at that moment. Everyone tried to keep their eyes on their work so that Snape wouldn't get onto them about it once she left, but they couldn't help but listen in.

"Yes," he replied in his usual monotone voice.

Umbridge came to his side, looking up at him. "But you were unsuccessful?"

Snape kept quiet for a moment. "Obviously."

Olivia held back a laugh, knowing that it was the best option for her. However, not everyone could be as smart and logical as her, and that was apparent when she saw Weasley snicker. She knew Snape had noticed it too. The man didn't do anything, though, not with the short witch standing next to him. He simply continued to stare straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"And you seem to be giving unnecessary extra time to students," the woman continued, flipping through the parchment on her clipboard before looking up at him with knitted brows and a questioning expression.

Snape's face remained blank, with not even a hint of anything he was thinking in his expression or behind his stare. His body stayed completely still, almost like he was Petrified, but, for only a quick second, his eyes found Olivia, whose amusement died as she sat up straighter. Then he went back to looking at nothing in front of him.

"Do you have a habit of doing that?" the witch went on, while Olivia watched her closely.

Snape finally looked down, due to the difference in height, at the professor next to him. "Only when the student needs it," he told her, and it technically wasn't a lie. Olivia did need someone to talk to, and therefore, she needed the "unnecessary extra time" that the witch spoke of, even if she had thought of turning down the man's offer when he had first approached her with it.

Could she have gone to Lucas or Pansy? Yes, but she didn't want to burden her brother or best friend with all of her problems.

"So Miss Mallard needs this extra time?" Umbridge inquired, furrowing her brows in faux confusion as she glanced at Olivia, who was staring at her.

Everyone else, including the girl's friends, who sat around her and seemed confused, looked at her as Umbridge focused back on Snape.

"She's reportedly been coming by your classroom once a week for years, sometimes even more than that."

No one knew about Olivia and Snape's weekly meetings, so how did Umbridge find out? It wasn't as if it was something top secret—they just talked about what was going on in Olivia's life so that she had an outlet for her emotions and didn't hex anyone or act out, therefore disgracing her family name more than it already had been.

"She's speaking about me as if I am not here," Olivia whispered to Theodore and Pansy, ignoring the curiosity that lingered in their gazes.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Snape inquired boredly.

"For starters, she has perfect marks, and Potions is, in fact, her best subject," Umbridge explained, causing Olivia to raise her chin proudly. She may despise the woman with everything in her (and she had a feeling this was mutual), but at least the professor recognized her greatness when it was laid out right in front of her.

"That must be a result of all of the extra time I am giving her," he countered, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Olivia felt like a proud mother, even though the man was nineteen (almost twenty) years her senior.

"No more extra time for Miss Mallard," Umbridge instructed him with a tight smile, and Olivia heard Weasley snicker again. Then she finally left the classroom, her heels clicking against the floor, and Olivia glared at her every step, giving her a sarcastic grin when she went by, which was returned.

Once she was out of sight, Snape smacked Weasley across the back of the head with his book, no doubt because the boy had been laughing at him.

Umbridge was sure whipping the school into pitch-perfect shape, just as she and the Minister saw fit. Olivia saw it as the woman on the prowl to find any flaws and correct them, making the school into a strict prison instead of the loving and caring place Hogwarts was meant to be.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

That following Saturday, a crowd of students, including Olivia, were in the courtyard, watching as the Weasley twins played about with one of their many spells, a spark flying around between them and bringing a tad bit of joy back to their becoming-damper setting. She watched with amusement as one of the twins tossed the spark to the other, and then he tossed it into the air.

But then Umbridge came over.

The older witch lifted her wand, pointed it at the spark, and brought it down as it slowly died out, along with the cheers.

Everyone fell silent as they stared at the professor, who looked proud of herself for killing any fun that was happening in the school. Then her eyes found Olivia, who had her arms crossed over her chest and rolled her eyes.

"You!" Umbridge pointed her wand at Olivia, which made the girl's attention snap to her and show her confusion, wondering why this witch was pointing her out. "Olivia Mallard, is it? Why is it that I am always finding you at scenes such as this one?" she asked, then hummed questioningly with raised brows.

Olivia just carelessly shrugged.

Was she always at scenes such as this one? She didn't know.

"You've earned yourself detention, Miss Mallard," the witch told her, raising her chin proudly. "Come to my office Monday after classes."

Monday? Olivia thought, confused as to why the professor hadn't opted to ruin the rest of her weekend. She then watched as Umbridge turned around, with a tight and proud smile on her face, and walked away from them. The girl's expression just contorted into one of confusion and disbelief.

"What the bloody hell did I do?" she asked those around her, her tone full of bewilderment as she threw up her arms. They seemed just as confused as she did, and she sighed, letting her arms drop to her sides once more.

She got detention for just being there, while everyone got off scotch-free.

She'd never had detention in her life. Ever.

So much for keeping her head down.

Her mother was going to kill her if Umbridge didn't do it first.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

More rules got put up around the school after that, making it more of a prison than anything else. Olivia hated it, but she already had detention later that day, so she did her best to abide by them, no matter how much her mind was screaming at her to ignore them and do what she wanted—to purposely go against them. She knew her mother would ring her neck if she did, and there were a lot larger things going on in their world than some school rules that she didn't like. But then again, this was connected to those larger things in a way, wasn't it?

This lingered in Olivia's mind as they sat in Trelawney's class. (Yes, she was taking Divination once more, still determined to be the best—if not close to the best—at it.) Umbridge had just gotten through questioning the woman like she had done with Snape, then she turned to leave, and Olivia thought they might get a moment of peace again. But then the pink-wearing professor turned back around, holding her clipboard and quill as if she were ready to write, and asked, "Could you please predict something for me?"

Trelawney looked shocked by the request, staring at the woman through her thick lenses. "I'm sorry?" She spoke as if she hadn't heard the question or simply did not understand it. Even Olivia knew that that wasn't how prophesying worked—one couldn't just make a prediction come to their mind with a snap of their fingers; it had to come to them naturally.

"One teensy little prophecy?" Umbridge continued, talking as if she were speaking to a child and trying to get them to do as she said with her soft voice. It sounded more condescending to Olivia's ears than anything.

Still, Trelawney didn't say a word.

"Pity."

Umbridge looked down at her clipboard, writing something on the parchment before she turned to leave.

"No, wait," Trelawney called out urgently, sticking out her hand. "Wait, no. I-I think I do see something. Yes, I do," she admitted, causing the other professor to stop in her tracks and keep her back to her. "Something dark. You are in grave danger."

Hopefully, Olivia thought.

Was that rude? If it was, she didn't care.

She hated the witch.

Umbridge turned to her with a smile. "Lovely." She looked down at her clipboard again and wrote something down on her parchment again. She turned around after that and finally walked away, leaving Trelawney confused and sort of worried, from what Olivia could tell.

The woman sort of always seemed like that.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

"She's bloody irritating," Olivia stated with irritation in her tone. She and Theodore were walking down the corridor after their last lesson of the day. "She gave me detention for just being around the twins when they were doing something against her stupid rules. No one else got in trouble, not even the twins!" She explained it to him with growing frustration. "I have never gotten detention in my life, not even when I might've deserved it."

"Never?" Theodore quirked a brow.

"Never." Olivia sighed. "I've always been able to talk my way out of receiving it," she admitted, tucking some of her hair behind her ear as they continued to walk and her eyes focused on her boots. Then a memory crossed her mind, and she looked up again, focusing ahead. "No, wait, there was that once," she corrected herself, thinking back to when Draco had made her sneak out with him past curfew to spy on Harry, Granger, and Weasley. She glanced over at him, giving him a telling look. "But it hadn't been my fault."

"Once is nothing," he told her, waving his hand dismissively like it was no big deal. "And what's the worst Umbridge can do?" His tone clearly showed that he underestimated the Ministry Rat's abilities as he looked over at her, seeing her facing ahead. And when she focused on him again, meeting his gaze, he smirked. "What's the worst that she can do that you couldn't handle?"

"Well, for starters, she could kill me," Olivia replied.

"Eh, you've been there and done that," he countered, waving his hand like the thought was nothing compared to what Olivia was capable of. This caused a smile to turn up the corners of her mouth. He wasn't wrong—she had been there and done that. She'd even been hit with the killing curse and still survived—the how still being a question that was unanswered, and she wasn't sure if she'd get one anytime soon. "Give me something else."

"She could lock me away deep in the dungeons to never be seen or heard of again," she continued, remembering how Filch had told her, Draco, and the Golden Trio, during that one detention Olivia had ever had, that students used to be put down there, hanging by their thumbs, and that he missed the screaming. That man was so... odd. She shook the thought from her mind as Theodore spoke again.

"I'd find you," he confessed, softly smiling as he met her gaze, which she returned. Then he seemed to think about his words and cleared his throat as the smile turned less soft and more Theodore-like, facing forward as he added, "And the others would help too, of course."

"Of course."

They fell silent for a moment after that as they continued to walk.

Then Olivia realized that she should probably start heading to Umbridge's office, not wanting to add an extra detention to her time for being late. So she let out a sigh and said, "Well, I should probably be off." She looked up at the boy, seeing him already looking at her. "See you later, Theodore."

"See you, Olivia." He smiled, and she returned it as she walked forward, keeping her eyes on him while he stopped in his spot. "Know that you are completely more frightening than her and can handle anything she throws your way. You quite literally survived death."

His words warmed something in her and gave her a bit more confidence, knowing that he had so much faith in her. "Thank you, Theodore." Her smile became kinder. And with one more lingering look, Olivia turned and walked away, heading to Umbridge's office, and Theodore just stood there, his hands tucked in his pockets, watching her go with a softening look.

He wished she knew how he felt for her.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Olivia let out a breath and tucked some of her hair behind her ears before knocking on the door of Umbridge's office for detention. She heard the woman say, "Come in," from inside the room a moment later, and she pushed the door open.

As her eyes cast around the room, it was like something out of Olivia's nightmares—there was pink everywhere. On the walls, on the desk, and on the body of the professor. It was very Umbridge in this office, though Olivia did not mind the china plates with cats on them decorating one of the walls. She adored cats. She hated, however, that she seemed to have that in common with the professor. Her gaze focused on said professor next, watching as she stood up from her desk with a tight smile, nothing kind about.

"Today, Miss Mallard, you will be writing some lines for me." She raised her hand to the desk and sat in front of her own desk, and Olivia walked over to it, placing her bag on the ground as she sat in the seat. "Don't bother retrieving a quill; you'll be using one of my special ones," she explained before the girl could even think of getting a quill from her bag. Umbridge fetched this "special quill" she had been speaking of, whatever that meant, and placed it on the parchment in front of Olivia. "And you shall not need ink either."

Olivia furrowed her brows but did not argue, wanting to get this over as fast as possible. "How many lines am I meant to write? And what am I supposed to write?" she asked, picking up the quill and hovering the tip of it above the page as she turned her chin over her shoulder but did not cast her eyes on the witch. Immediately, she could feel the magic that was running through the quill in her hand, burning her skin as she held it.

Dark magic, it was.

But she did not say anything.

"As many as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge answered, causing Olivia's mind to flash with the possibilities of what she meant by that. "And you will be writing, 'We must not misbehave' because you, my dear, have a nasty habit of doing such and not being punished for it," she told her. "It's time that changed."

Olivia could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

She didn't say anything in response, however; she just focused on the parchment, ignoring the burning she felt against her palm from the quill's dark magic, and began writing.

The first line didn't do anything, but the second she began to feel a slight digging into the skin of the back of her right hand. Then, on the third, she felt the words beginning to appear on her skin, like sharp and jagged cuts. She didn't stop, however, not even when she winced in pain and gritted her teeth; she just continued writing, going faster and faster with each line she wrote.

If Umbridge wanted to use this torture as a punishment, then Olivia was going to comply—let her have what she wanted. She must not misbehave after all, and not doing what she was told would be a form of misbehaving, would it not? She could feel the words dig deeper into her skin as she continued to write with more aggression.

It was then that the professor seemed to notice what she was doing and ordered her to slow down, but Olivia didn't stop.

Umbridge stepped forward, snatching the quill from her, which made Olivia look up at her with a heated gaze and scowl. "Go. Now," the older witch dismissed her, huffing.

Olivia just grabbed her bag and stood up from her seat, her eyes locked onto the professor's, whom she was just a few inches taller than. "I was just doing as I was told." She looked the woman up and down with a hint of disgust before settling on her eyes again and adding, "Professor." Her expression and tone turned to one of faux innocence. "I hope I didn't upset you."

She didn't give Umbridge a second to stop glaring and respond before she sarcastically smiled and turned away from her, walking towards the door. She opened it without a second thought and exited the room, stomping down the corridors as she made her way to the dungeons and to the common room.

After she whispered the password, she entered the room with anger fuming inside of her, her smile now gone. Her eyes focused on Draco in an instant, which only made her angrier, not just because she'd been upset with him for not believing her and not even trying to prove otherwise, but because she knew how he felt about Umbridge. He agreed with what she was doing and reveled in the fact that she was making life miserable for the whole school (Harry, mostly).

Olivia stormed over to him, letting the common room door shut rather loudly. He was laughing with their friends in the middle of a conversation. She wanted to roll her eyes because, of course, he looked like he had no care in the world. (He didn't!) He had nothing to worry about at all.

Pansy focused on Olivia with a smile. "Hi, Oli—"

"This is what your little girlfriend does, Malfoy," she told him harshly, cutting Pansy off and catching the attention of others. She lifted up her hand for him to see, pointing to the words carved into her skin.

He raised his brows. "What?"

"I just got back from detention with Umbridge, where I had to write lines with her special quill, which ended up carving those lines into my hand in the same spot repeatedly," she explained, narrowing her eyes at him as everyone else took in the fresh wound with wide eyes. Her voice was laced with anger and frustration, and she so badly wanted to hex or curse him. "I didn't even do anything to deserve detention!"

Her hand itched to reach for her wand and take her anger out on him as she scowled. But she knew she couldn't—that it wouldn't be right. So, instead, she stood tall and whipped around without another word, marching back over to the door. "Consequences of your own actions, Olivia!" she heard him call out from behind her. But she didn't let that stop her, as she stormed back out of the common room, while the rest of them just watched with shocked and confused looks, again closing the door behind her rather harshly.

She couldn't be in his presence any longer.

He wasn't responsible for the words carved into her hand, but he still drove her mad.

She stomped down the corridor of the dungeons and back to the upper level. She made her way through those corridors, wanting to go to the library to clear her mind. Until she saw a crowd of students herding towards the courtyard, which caused her steps to slow down. What were they looking at? The question rang in her mind as she began walking again, coming up beside Harry, who was standing next to Cho Chang.

"Wha-what's going on?" Harry asked the Ravenclaw girl as the crowd all rushed to the courtyard.

"It's Professor Trelawney," she replied, her Scottish accent thick.

Harry just shared a look with her and then with Olivia before picking up their steps and pushing through the other students, who were all chattering around them. They stopped when they could see Professor Trelawney sobbing and sniffling as Filch walked closer to her, holding one of her trunks.

"I, uh," the woman began, sitting down on one of her larger trunks that was already set down on the ground. She was clearly distraught.

Filch just set the trunk that he was carrying down as Umbridge walked out of the school from the large entrance doors. The still-dressed-in-pink witch, with a thought-she-was-superior smile on her face, made her way from the steps of Hogwarts all the way to Trelawney, who had stood up, her heels clicking against the stone ground.

They all watched as the bushy-haired professor went to take a step closer but hit her shin on one of her trunks. Olivia's expression turned pitiful as she focused on the woman, who she'd had issues with in the past but didn't want to see kicked out of the school. Trelawney bent over for a moment, clearly in pain, as she rubbed her leg before standing up as straight as she could and taking a few small, cautious steps forward.

"Six... Sixteen years I've— I've lived and taught here," she told Umbridge, sounding terribly sad but also like she was trying to keep her voice as steady as she could. It wasn't quite working, and Olivia couldn't help but feel for the woman. "Hogwarts is my home." She let out a sob while everyone's eyes remained on her, most staring at her with sorrow. "Y-you can't do this."

"Actually, I can." Umbridge did not look sorry at all as she countered the woman's words and held up a folded piece of parchment. They all knew she wasn't. To be sorry about something, one required a heart. This witch sure as hell didn't have one of those. Not even a little dried up one.

McGonagall quickly brushed past Olivia and Harry, not even a second later. Neither of them had even realized that she'd been behind them until she was in front of them and rushing over to Trelawney to comfort her as she sobbed.

Olivia's mind didn't focus on the professors for too long as she felt another presence behind her, knowing exactly who it was. That knowledge made her heart race, and her anger rose once more. She did not glance in his direction, however, or even let him know that she knew he was there, despite knowing that he already knew. She just kept her eyes trained on the scene in front of her, watching as the professor wearing the black and pointed hat held the other in her arms and stroked her thick and poofy hair, then sent a less than pleased look in Umbridge's direction.

"Something you'd like to say, dear?"

"Oh, there are several things I'd like to say," McGonagall retorted before going back to comforting her longtime colleague. Then the sound of the large double doors of Hogwarts opening rang in their ears, and everyone turned to see who it was.

Dumbledore stood in the doorway, both doors open for him. All the ones around followed him with their eyes as he walked across the courtyard and over to Umbridge, McGonagall, and Trelawney, like the shortest witch of the three had done moments before.

Some whispered about the sudden arrival of the man because they hadn't heard from or seen the Headmaster in quite some time. Olivia quite honestly had begun to believe that the Minister had let Umbridge kill him and secretly become the Headmistress of the school—she was damn near close to that title, after all.

"Professor McGonagall," the aging wizard began as he came to a stop. "Might I ask you to escort Sybil back inside?"

Professor Trelawney seemed relieved upon hearing this, letting out a breath through her sniffles, and she thanked the Headmaster as they went by him, cupping his hand into both of hers. She then let go as McGonagall continued to guide her back towards the doors, telling her, "Sybil, dear. This way."

Once the two professors were by him, his focus went back to the newest hire, listening as she said, "Dumbledore, may I remind you that under the terms of Education Decree Number Twenty-Three as enacted by the Minister..."

"You have the right to dismiss my teachers," Dumbledore finished for her, no doubt having already memorized the terms of Education Decree Number Twenty-Three since it was what was giving Umbridge her power over the school. "You do not, however, have the authority to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the Headmaster," he explained, only causing Umbridge's confident grin to widen.

"For now," she told him, almost threateningly.

Dumbledore just stared at her for a moment before looking around at all of the gathered students. Then he turned around and began walking back to the school. "Don't you all have studying to do?" His voice echoed around them as he more-or-less told them to get lost.

Olivia sighed, no longer wanting to go to the library, as others began heading back into the school, and Harry chased after Dumbledore. She just wanted to go to her room as quickly as possible. But as she turned around to do that, she collided right into Draco's chest, having forgotten he'd been behind her. She didn't look up to meet his eye, knowing that she'd want to forget about all of their problems and forgive him if she did.

He leaned down, bringing his mouth right next to her ear. "Do you think she prophesied that?" he whispered, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut at the feeling of his words against her skin. "Trelawney," he then clarified, as if she didn't know who he was talking about. "Do you think she saw that coming?"

Olivia finally met his gaze as he took a step back to look down at her. Her eyes were narrowed, seeing his cold, careless expression with his slightly raised brows.

"You find this amusing, don't you?" she asked as if she were already aware of the answer, giving him a look of annoyance. "The suffering of others when it's you not doing the suffering, Umbridge taking over the school and emplacing ridiculous rules, and everyone being under the power of her instead of Dumbledore because you don't care for him as Headmaster and think him a fool." She breathed out in tense amusement, though none of this was amusing. She wagged her finger at him like something had just dawned on her. "No, wait, it is your father who believes he is unfit and foolish, and you are just going along with it."

His irritation was clear. "Don't—"

"Don't speak of your father?" She finished for him, raising her brows; her words and expression were questioning. Then her face fell flat, with only a bitter smile showing. "Gladly."

She tried to move past him after that, slightly bumping into his shoulder with her own as her eyes caught onto their friends, who stood behind him and had watched the whole thing.

But before she could get too far, Draco's hand fell on her wrist, and he pulled her back to him.

She turned around to face him again with a scowl, clearly not in the mood. She thought her words had proven that enough, but obviously not since he wasn't done.

"What?" She asked harshly, her tone heated and sharp as she raised her brows and snatched her wrist from his grasp. "What do you want with me, Draco? Because I truly don't know anymore."

He didn't say anything.

So she continued, still staring into his eyes as he stared back at her. "You know, now that I think about it"—she felt her emotions crawling up her throat, and she did her best to swallow them—"my mother was right about you." She bit the inside of her cheek. "And trust me when I say that I truly hate to admit that."

"How so?" He finally spoke.

"She said that starting something—anything—with you would be a mistake and that I'd just get my heart broken." She felt her chin wobble and tears brim in her eyes with each of her words, remembering all of the times her mother had warned her. But she didn't dare let a sob out or a tear slip. "And I have. Over and over again. Because of you, Draco. Due to you," she told him, practically gritting the last words through her teeth.

He did not speak, but Olivia could've sworn she saw his careless mask crack just a bit, and that gave her the smallest amount of hope—hope that he'd finally realize his effect on her and how he made her feel. Good and bad. Perhaps he would realize his mistakes and change them—make them right. But most of her knew, besides that little hint of foolish hope, that there was a small chance of that actually happening.

Draco was set in his ways, after all, just as she was, and there was no changing that or him.

She'd tried many times before and failed each and every time.

"I just don't understand why you do it, Draco," she admitted, tossing her hands up and letting them fall back to her sides. She sounded tired and frustrated. And she was. She was so tired and frustrated, all because of him. "You act as if you care for me when we're alone or in your letters, but the moment someone else is around, including our friends"—she lifted her hand to the ones behind him, who were focused on them in tense silence—"you act like a cold and careless boy, like you feel nothing for me or at all."

She paused, still trying to hold back her tears, not because she wanted to hide the fact that she was close to crying but because she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had made her cry. She didn't know if he'd see it that way, but she also didn't know that he wouldn't. She didn't know much of anything anymore when it came to Draco.

Had she ever?

Taking a deep breath with her eyes closed and releasing it as she opened them again, Olivia continued, "No matter what your father has told you, Draco—and don't try to deny it because I know he has—emotions do not make you weak, they make you strong." She tucked some of her hair behind her ears, calming herself down. "I had to learn the hard way—to break what I've been told all of my life. So, until you can do that, if you even want to do that, I'm going to keep my distance from you more than I already have been doing."

She didn't want to, but she knew it was for the best.

She took a couple of steps forward, coming to stand in front of him as he watched every move with an unreadable expression, still not uttering any words. Then she stood on her tip-toes, making herself taller, and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull him a bit down. This allowed her to plant a small and short kiss on his cheek before she stepped back and turned away from him.

After that, she began walking away, finally letting her tears fall.

She could feel his gaze on her as she got further and further away from him and the others, until she turned to the corner and was out of sight. She made her way through the corridors and to the dungeons, entered the common room, and hurried to her room, not wanting to deal with anyone else for a while.

Once the door was shut behind her, she pressed her back against it, her sobs escaping as she slid down to the floor. And that was where and how she stayed until Pansy came into the room.

Her best friend tried to open the door, but Olivia was in the way, so it didn't budge. She sat in front of it for a moment longer as Pansy pleaded for her to move, and then she finally did, not even bothering to wipe her tear-soaked cheeks. She didn't even get to blink as Pansy entered and saw what state she was in because arms were immediately thrown around her in an effort to comfort her.

But it only made the crying worse.

Olivia was so tired.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
okay, i have a lot to be thankful for right now when it comes to this book — first off, thank you for 26K and 27K reads; i can't believe i hit both of those milestones within three days of each other!! and thank you for getting this fic ranked #1 in the tag 'dracomalfoy,' that truly means everything to me!!

it took me so long to finally edit this chapter bc one, i was prewriting a bit of act six (the chapters are pretty lengthy teehee), and two, i was procrastinating bc i despise umbridge so much and she's in the majority of this chapter, as you all know.

i really hope you enjoyed nonetheless!!

make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

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

word count: 5558. written: 6.19.24. published: 8.13.24.