BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
091 ━━━━ ❛ christmas at headquarters ❜

The beginning of Christmas break had been quite lackluster. Olivia's parents had shown up at Platform 9¾ for her and Lucas. Her mother barely looked at her, and when she did, she was glaring, not only upset about the stunt Olivia had pulled before going to Hogwarts but also about the gossip she'd heard in whispers about Draco kissing Olivia in front of everyone. She was clearly mad that Olivia wasn't doing as she was told and following her every word like a good and obedient daughter. She barely talked to either one of her children once they returned to the manor, and neither of them complained about that. She only spoke to Olivia long enough to explain new developments—Harry having a nightmare about Mr. Weasley being attacked, which actually ended up being a vision, not a nightmare because of some connection the boy had with the Dark Lord, so whatever Voldemort saw, Harry saw too, and vice versa.

It still didn't answer any questions for Olivia about why she survived the killing curse (which had been mostly forgotten by others, something her mother was surely glad for) or why she collapsed and coughed up black sludge. Or even why she had nightmares. She knew her mother knew more than she let on—perhaps her father did as well—but she didn't know how to get answers from her. She knew she wouldn't, even if she did find a way. Snape knew things too—things he liked to keep secret, along with her parents. It made her so frustrated.

A bit into the holiday, a few days before the 25th of December, Olivia and Lucas had been invited to celebrate Christmas at headquarters with the other Order members, which they kindly accepted. Their parents weren't going, of course, never ones to be in the festive spirit, but they were happy (they didn't care) to let their children go. So that day, the siblings headed there on their own, apparating to Grimmauld Place with Bobbin—who left an instant later—since they were underage, and walking in through the familiar door and through the familiar home.

"Here we go," Mrs. Weasley said, her tone cheery, as Olivia and Lucas walked into the kitchen. They watched her guide her husband over to the table, noticing that he was wearing a purple paper crown, his arm was in a sling, and there was a nasty bruise around his right eye. Other than that, however, he seemed to be doing all right, and Olivia was glad for it. She and Lucas lingered in the back as the older witch added, "Daddy's back," with a bright smile on her face. Then she ducked as the small Santa on his sleigh flew over her head before standing up straight again.

Everyone began to applaud the return of the Weasley man, happy that he was all right after what he'd been through (his injuries could've been so much worse or, Merlin forbid, he could've died). The smile on Mrs. Weasley's face grew even bigger at the warm greeting, and she waved her hands, telling them, "Sit down, everyone. Sit down."

Olivia and Lucas made their way over to the table, doing as told, and sat next to Ginny. The others followed their actions, pulling out chairs of their own and sitting down as well. Mrs. Weasley stood next to Mr. Weasley, while the twins and Hermione sat across from Weasley, Lucas, Olivia, and Ginny.

"That's it." Mrs. Weasley practically gleamed at the Christmas spirit and the fact that her husband was still alive to celebrate another year with them. "Now, presents." She walked over to the cart that held all of the neatly wrapped gifts and began to hand them out.

Olivia hadn't been expecting to get anything, but she did.

Her and Lucas both.

"And a nice big box for Ron," Mr. Weasley commented with a smile.

"Big box for you," his wife added, her voice happy. "And, um..." She went to hand a gift each to her twins but couldn't seem to tell which one was which. This made Olivia feel slightly better about not being able to tell them apart, knowing that their own mother couldn't either. "Uh, what? Here." The woman stammered, then gave up and handed the presents to her sons. "Oh!" She waved both hands dismissively. "Fred and George. Come on, open up. I want to see your faces."

Everyone then began to open their gifts, but Mrs. Weasley's focus was mainly on the twins. Olivia and Lucas unwrapped their boxes, finding inside knitted jumpers—Olivia's Slytherin green and with an 'O' on the front, and Lucas's the same green but with an 'L' on the front of his, both letters in white. They both smiled, glancing over the clearly handmade pieces of clothing, before their eyes found one another, thinking the same thing. These were gifts made with love and care, which was certainly more than their own parents had ever gotten them.

Weasley pulled out a wool vest with a big red 'R' on the left chest area, and his face was clearly twisted in a faux bright smile, like he didn't like the gift but didn't want to hurt his mum's feelings by telling her so.

"Try it on," Mrs. Weasley urged her son as he glanced over at Hermione, who was staring at him with a small smile on her face.

"Thanks, Mum." Ginny smiled. "It's perfect."

"Just what he wanted, actually," her mother said happily, looking at her youngest son.

The boy focused back on her, still smiling but making it even brighter as he tried to keep up the excited facade. "Yeah. Right. Thanks, Mum," he replied, while Fred and George put on their matching scarves.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Olivia and Lucas told the woman softly.

She sent them kind smiles. "You're most welcome, dearies." Then she turned back to everyone else as Olivia glanced to her left, her eyes catching on Harry, who had just walked into the room and was still lingering by the door. "Come on, then, everybody. Let's clear this away," Mrs. Weasley instructed, and then her eyes landed on Harry as well. "Oh, Harry, Harry." She sounded excited as she scooted past Ron's seat and grabbed the only unopened present left. "There you are." She held out the box to her son's best friend with a soft grin on her face.

Harry took the present as the others filled their glasses and set the table.

"Happy Christmas," she said, giving him a hug.

"Thank you," he replied with happiness in his voice as he hugged her back.

She pulled back after only a second. "Lovely to have you with us."

"Thank you," he repeated.

She patted his chest and then moved back over to her husband. "Now, Daddy. Pass that to Daddy," she told one of her children.

Olivia didn't know which one of the lot Mrs. Weasley had been talking to since her eyes remained on Harry, who was opening his present and saw that he got a scarf, just like the twins. Her focus slowly drifted behind him a second later, seeing Sirius lingering in the doorway. The man was staring at the boy with a soft smile, like he was glad he was there. Olivia was sure he was. She lifted her hand and sent Sirius a small wave and smile as he focused on her, and he returned the gesture.

"Thank you," Mr. Weasley said as Olivia faced the others again.

Mrs. Weasley looked around the table. "Has everybody got?"

"A toast," her husband added.

"Fred? George?" She paused, looking at everyone. "Hermione? Make sure—"

"A Christmas toast," the Weasley man continued, his voice loud enough to make everyone focus on him. Mrs. Weasley handed Harry a cup, lifting hers as everyone else did the same. "To Mr. Harry Potter"—he paused for a long moment as his wife walked back over to him and gently placed her arm over his shoulder—"without whom I would not be here."

Olivia thought back to how her parents had explained to her all about the nightmare Harry had the night she'd collapsed, in which he saw Mr. Weasley get attacked, and how it had been part of the reason why he'd been with Snape at such a late time of night.

Harry's face fell, seeming saddened by the realization put on him.

Mr. Weasley simply lifted his glass even higher and said, "Harry."

"Harry," everyone else repeated in unison, lifting their cups a bit higher as well. Sirius stepped into the room to join them, raising his own cup and toasting to the boy. "Harry." Then everyone settled back in their seats.

"Oh, that is delicious. I shall be needing some more of that," Mr. Weasley told his wife as he tried some of the food.

"Well, Daddy, don't forget last Christmas," she replied knowingly.

After that, they all sat down and had dinner. It was unlike the ones Olivia and Lucas had with their parents whenever they were actually home. It wasn't cold or silent; it was warm and inviting, full of talking, laughter, and old stories. Olivia practically had a smile on her face the whole time, while, in the back of her mind, a small part of her wished that her family was like this—that they got along and actually cared for each other.

The remaining Mallards were only family by blood. Lucas was Olivia's family, and he was hers. Clodagh was Andrew's family, and she was his—for the most part. The two pairs were separated from each other due to their own faults, and Olivia felt as if it'd always be that way. She hoped that, one day, if and when she had a family of her own, they could be like the Weasleys and the ones they considered family.

Once dinner was over, Olivia made her way downstairs with the Golden Trio, while Lucas stayed with Ginny, whom he'd become good friends with after the girl had finally gotten over her little crush on him.

"I can't understand why you don't want to wear it, Ronald," Hermione said with a shake of her head and a clueless tone. She was speaking of the wool vest that Mrs. Weasley had given her son, which Olivia actually quite liked.

He didn't respond until they reached the bottom step. "Because I look like a bloody idiot, that's why."

"No more than usual, Ronald," Granger retorted, causing Olivia to snicker as she stepped off the bottom step. Harry was a step behind her, and she almost followed the other two until she saw him venture off to another room, off to the side of the staircase. "I don't understand why you don't trust your mother's taste more," the curly-haired (though it was more tame than previous years) girl added, her voice echoing off the walls as Harry stepped into the doorway, peering into the room.

Olivia walked over towards him, the sound of the door opening and closing being heard behind them, letting them know that Hermione and Weasley were gone. "What are you doing, Harry?" she asked softly, almost causing the boy to jump.

He turned his chin over his shoulder, not meeting her eye, and then faced forward again to stare into the room. Its walls were lined with wallpaper that was decorated with tree branches, names, and portraits. Olivia recognized it as a family tree tapestry, a mainly pureblood family tradition to have. She knew that the Mallards and O'Sheas were both sure to have one, but she had never been given the chance to see either. Her family never went to the O'Shea Manor, not having a reason to, and Mallard Manor had lots of hidden and locked rooms that her parents never thought to share with her or Lucas.

They weren't too keen on their families.

"I just wanted to see what was in here," Harry confessed, his words coming out low.

The two of them walked further into the room, their weight causing the old floorboards to creak under the pressure.

"Nasty brats, standing there as bold as brass," a rough-sounding voice rang in their ears, and they quickly looked to where it was coming from. Their eyes, cast down due to the height difference, landed on an old-looking house elf, whom Olivia remembered from the first time they'd been there. "Harry Potter, the boy who stopped the Dark Lord, and Olivia Mallard, the girl who... Well, you haven't done anything, have you?" he rhetorically asked, causing Olivia to give him a nasty look. She'd done plenty; thank you very much. "Friends of mudbloods and blood traitors alike." He ignored the girl's look. "If my poor mistress only knew—"

"Kreacher!" Sirius's voice echoed loudly from outside the room. Harry and Olivia looked over at the door, their eyes landing on him as he stood on the stairs. "That's enough of your bile," he said pointedly when the house elf looked at him. "Away with you!" He pointed his finger for Kreacher to leave.

"Of course, Master," Kreacher replied, folding his dainty hands together. His voice was dripping with sarcasm, like he didn't believe Sirius to be his true "master." Olivia was sure he didn't, seeing as his beliefs, even as a house elf, differed from those of Sirius and those who frequented the house in recent years. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black." And with that, he left the room, letting out a disgusted groan.

Sirius made his way to the doorway, focusing on Harry and Olivia. "Sorry about that," he told them apologetically, his voice now a little quieter and calmer. "He never was very pleasant, even when I was a boy," he confessed, keeping in the hall. Olivia knitted her brows pitifully as Harry looked around at the walls. "Not to me, anyway."

"Wha-what, y-you grew up here?" Harry asked, stumbling over his words as the shock of the reveal overcame him. Olivia just glanced over at him with a dumbfounded look. She thought they all knew that, especially given the names lining the walls, most of which said "Black," since the noble family had liked to keep their relations in-house, so to speak. (Her skin crawled at the thought.) She supposed the boy hadn't looked that closely at the family tree around them.

"This is my parents' house," the man revealed to Harry and Harry alone, seeing as Olivia already knew that information. "I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order." Sirius brushed his hand against the dark wood of the doorframe as he, too, took the room in. "About the only useful thing I've been able to do." He fell silent once more as he focused on the two teenagers, and they focused on him, and then finally, he stepped into the room. "This is the Black family tree," he revealed, all of their eyes falling onto the wall in front of them. They focused on one name in particular. Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black), the dark witch Olivia knew to be Draco's aunt, his mother's sister, Sirius's cousin, and loyal follower of Voldemort. "My deranged cousin," Sirius said, his mind clearly occupied with memories. "I hated the lot of them."

Olivia did not blame him.

She, Harry, and Sirius moved further along the wall.

"My parents with their pure-blood mania," he continued bitterly.

That was one thing Olivia didn't hate about her parents—no matter how cruel they were, they would never be blood purists, despite what their own parents tried to teach them. She was glad for that—that she wasn't a heartless and pathetic blood supremacist who aimlessly followed Voldemort. She knew most of them likely did due to false promises of going back to the old ways—going back to tradition—even though their leader was a half-blood himself.

Sirius found himself on the wall; his portrait burned so no one could see his face. He ran his hand over where his portrait was once visible. "My mother did that after I ran away," he told them, then dropped his hand to his side as Olivia and Harry stayed silent. "Charming woman." He paused as he thought back. "I was sixteen."

That was the age Olivia was.

"Where did you go?" asked Harry.

Sirius finally looked at him, inhaling through his nose. "Round your dad's," he answered, and Harry shortly nodded. "I was always welcome at the Potters'." He took a step closer, his eyes trained solely on the son of his late friend. "I see him so much in you, Harry. You are so very much alike."

"I'm not so sure," the boy admitted his doubts, then glanced at Olivia for a long moment. She offered him a small smile, looking at him with pity, before he faced forward again, not letting his gaze find the man in front of him. "Sirius, when I was..." He paused with hesitation. "When I saw Mr. Weasley attacked, I wasn't just watching." He found the man's gaze, taking in a deep breath. Olivia's brows furrowed, but she didn't speak as she let him continue. "I was the snake."

This confused Olivia even further.

"And afterwards, in Dumbledore's office," he continued, "there was a moment when I—I wanted to..." He began stumbling over his words, taking in a deep breath before exhaling to calm himself. He looked away from both Olivia and Sirius, his jaw clenching in frustration. "This connection between me and Voldemort—what if the reason for it is that I am becoming more like him?"

Olivia went to speak to assure him that she didn't think that was true, but he continued.

"I... I just feel so angry all the time." He sounded so annoyed and disappointed by the fact and with himself. "And—what if, after everything that I've been through, something's gone wrong inside me? What if I am becoming bad?"

His questions made Olivia think as her eyes found the ground. What if something had gone wrong inside of her too? She knew she didn't have a connection to Voldemort, but she understood how Harry felt—always angry and scared that something was wrong with her. She didn't think she was bad—not as bad as one could be, at least—but she noticed how easily she moved on from Draco's wrongdoings and disgusting beliefs just so she could still be with him. When had she become so infatuated with him, enough to forget about everything she believed in and everything he believed in? To not give him up for the sake of what was right?

Perhaps her mother had been correct... She was selfish.

Sirius took a step forward, causing Olivia to find him and Harry again before she got too lost in her mind, and he patted the boy on the arms. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry," he began, staring at the boy tellingly. "You're not a bad person." He looked over Harry's shoulder, his eyes fixing on Olivia as he lifted a telling finger at her as if he already knew what was going through her mind. "And neither are you, Olivia, no matter what anyone—or yourself—may tell you." She knew he was referring to her mother, as she sent him a barely there smile. His hand fell back on Harry's shoulder as his eyes danced between the two. "You both are very good people who bad things have happened to," he continued, looking at them kindly. "You understand?"

They simply nodded.

"Besides, t-the world isn't split into"—he raised one hand, like he was weighing his options, before he dropped it back to his side—"good people and Death Eaters." His words made Olivia think of her countless arguments with her mother over Draco and who his father was. "We've all got both light and dark inside of us." He stared at them as they took in his words, with Olivia picking at the skin around her nails. "What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock on the doorframe, causing their attention to fall on it as Hermione peeked her head in. "Harry, Olivia, time to go," she told them softly, knowing that Olivia and Lucas had planned on leaving when the rest of them went back to the Burrow.

Sirius guided the two of them towards the door. "When all of this is over, we'll be a proper family," he said, turning to Harry. "You'll see." Then the two of them hugged as Olivia and Hermione watched with soft smiles.

Once they pulled apart, Sirius faced Olivia and pulled her in for much of the same. A moment passed, and they stepped back from one another with light grins on their faces before she turned to walk to the door with Harry.

Before she could get too far away, however, Sirius spoke. "Oh, Olivia." His voice caught her and caused her to turn around. She gave him a questioning look and a raise of her brows. "How are things going with Draco?" He took a step closer to her, lowering his voice, though Harry and Hermione could still hear his words.

"Oh," Olivia mumbled, glancing over at Harry, who was staring at her curiously. She and Draco had agreed to keep things secret—or rather private, especially from Harry. It would only cause issues if the boy knew—if anyone knew. She and Draco were always much better when it was just the two of them. Her eyes found Sirius again, and she shrugged. "Well, he's working for Umbridge as the leader of her little Inquisitorial Squad, so I suppose it's not going at all."

It wasn't a complete lie.

"Ah." Sirius nodded. "You still care for him, though?"

"Unfortunately," she replied, letting out a light laugh. Then she glanced over at Harry again, meeting his eyes as he still stared at her, this time his expression slightly more annoyed with the mention and admission of her care for Draco, while Hermione stood behind him awkwardly. Olivia focused back on Sirius, wanting to get this conversation over with as fast as possible. "I can't seem to make those feelings go away, no matter how hard I try. But I am keeping my distance from him as best as I can," she added, trying to assure Harry without actually telling him directly. "It is for the better."

"Right." Sirius nodded, smiling at her. "Well, I trust your judgment either way."

"Thank you," Olivia said softly.

And then she and Harry turned and left the room, going with Hermione. Before they could find the others, however, Harry's hand landed on Olivia's shoulder. "Olivia," he muttered, causing her to stop in her tracks. Hermione stopped as well, but after receiving a look from him that told her that he wanted to speak with Olivia alone, she went on, saying for them to find them when they were finished. Harry's gaze found Olivia's pale green eyes before they flickered over her face, seeing the questioning look she was giving him, and he let out a stressed sigh. "Are you all right? I meant to ask you after you collapsed, but I hadn't had time after the night in Snape's office, or since then, so... Are you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, for the most part." She paused, her eyes falling over his face, just as he did with her. "Are you all right? I mean, a connection with Voldemort, that's—" Her voice fell short, not able to find a word to describe it.

"Yeah, for the most part," he replied, offering her a small nod and smile.

They fell silent and just stared at one another for a moment. Then Olivia took a step forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. He immediately hugged her back, with his arms around her back and hers around the back of his neck. They stayed like that for another minute, both relaxing as they needed the embrace, before they pulled apart and smiled at each other.

Once they were ready, they headed in the direction Hermione had gone to find the others, which they did, and left headquarters. Olivia and Lucas returned to the manor, their new hand-knit jumpers from Mrs. Weasley stuffed in her bag, which Lucas had been holding onto for her.

The two spent the rest of their holiday back in the silence and coldness that the manor and their parents had to offer. And by the end of it, they both were extra grateful to be going back to Hogwarts, even if it meant being around Umbridge again.

Olivia missed teaching Dumbledore's Army, oddly enough, despite her original hesitation when first approached with the offer. But she especially missed Draco—seeing him, talking to him, kissing him, being near him—with Sirius's words still lingering in her mind.

The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.

We've all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.

That's who we really are.

She knew her side; she just hoped Draco knew his.

And, if he did, she hoped that it was the one she wanted him to be on.

Only time would tell.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
hi, so first off, thank you for 32K and 33K reads !!!

second, i'm so happy that olivia and lucas got their sweaters from molly 🤭 they deserve them fr!!

olivia and sirius >>
their connection means so much to me

i really hope you liked this chapter bc i know i do, and i really enjoyed writing it!

make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

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

word count: 4215. written: 7.8.24. published: 9.10.24.