BORN TO DIE ╱ DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
098 ━━ ❛ the reeling, the prophecy, and the book ❜

It was about two weeks into summer holiday as Olivia lay in her bed, tossing and turning from her nightmare, which remained the one that'd haunted her for years. The faceless man. The five children. The chained woman and man. The heat and fire. The darkness. She had slept longer than usual, not waking up at her typical four in the morning. But the sound of knocking pulled her out of her mind, and her eyes snapped open. She looked over to her door, and she just knew, by the heavy-handedness of the pounding on her door, that it was her mother on the other side.

Groaning, she closed her eyes again, placing her arms over them as she ignored the knocks. She was coated in a thin layer of sweat, enough to make her hair stick to her forehead, and her heart was still trying to calm itself. She was not in the mood to deal with her mother or whatever she had to say. She just wished the blasted witch, the nightmares that clouded her mind every slumber, and everything else wrong in the world would just go away. She didn't want to deal with it. She just wanted to be happy; she just wanted to be with Draco.

But she knew she wasn't that lucky, and life wasn't that fair.

At the thought of the forbidden blonde boy, she sat up and reached for her necklace, still squeezing her eyes closed and trying to hold back her emotions. But she felt nothing, and she remembered that she no longer had her necklace.

No, her wretched mother had taken it from her, broken it, and given it back to Narcissa. It wasn't even hers to give away! Yet she still did it. It drove Olivia mad how her mother tried to control everything little she did with her life, as if she weren't her own person and couldn't make her own decisions. So what if being with Draco didn't look good on her name? It was her name to ruin!

She knew that her mother's forbidding of the boy wasn't solely because Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. (Her family's name was already tarnished for many reasons, so what did it matter?) She didn't know what it was about or why she did it, but it wasn't what she claimed it to be. There was something more—there had to be—and Olivia had yet to find out what that more was.

Her hands still rested where her necklace once was when her mother opened the door and barged into her room, looking rather annoyed. Her eyes landed on where Olivia's hand was, causing the girl to drop it to the bed hastily, not wanting to hear anything about it. Too bad for her; her mother had a quick mind.

"You're not still upset about that necklace, are you?" her mother asked, her tone cold and stern per usual. Olivia opened her mouth to respond as she narrowed her eyes, but Clodagh raised a hand to stop her. "Nevermind that; I am not in the mood for your snark today." She dropped her hand and folded it with her other one in front of her. "Get up," she ordered as Olivia took her in. She was already dressed in one of her long dresses. Her skin was as fair as ever, her eyes blinding blue, and her hair was half-pinned up, the rest hanging down in loose waves. She was a beautiful woman on the outside, but the inside was completely rotten. "We have to go to headquarters, so get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast." She didn't waste another second before she turned around and walked out of the girl's room, not closing the door behind her.

Olivia sighed and fell back against her bed, closing her eyes again.

She was so tired.

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Later that day, Olivia and Lucas had been dragged to headquarters, though the girl had lost all motivation to be there. They were shut out of the meeting (since they were only ever allowed into certain ones, which drove Olivia mad), so she found Harry, while Lucas hung out with Ginny, and the two of them found a place to talk. They were sitting beside one another and looking out the window of the room.

"How are you, Harry?" She asked, looking over at him, neither one of them having sent any letters to each other since the summer had started. She wanted to make sure he was all right. Well, as all right as he could be. She knew she wasn't, but she wasn't going to burden him with that. She couldn't burden him with it. He would never trust her if he knew that she was still longing to be with Draco. She wanted him to trust her.

"I'm fine," he replied, not meeting her eye as he continued staring out the window.

Olivia gave him a knowing look and waited until he finally focused on her.

He stared at her, fighting against exposing his emotions to her, then let out a tired sigh. "I'm doing as best as I can," he admitted, focusing on the window again. "It's tough, of course, but I am making it through."

She smiled softly, even though he wasn't looking at her. "That's good," she told him, looking out the window as well and taking in the sight in front of them. Inhaling and exhaling, Olivia tried to clear her mind. But something was weighing on her, so she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"All right."

After that, they fell silent, taking in the sight from outside the window.

"How are you?" Harry inquired, glancing over at her.

"Doing as best as I can," she answered, repeating his words.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"All right."

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The following day, Lucas dragged Olivia out of her room because he claimed that she was moping and needed some fresh air, despite her telling him that she wasn't and didn't. (She was and did.) So there they were, walking the grounds of the manor as the boy went on and on about plants, something that had become a fascination of his in recent months. Well, they had always been a fascination of his when he was a child, but he'd grown from it and had recently come back to his love for the different kinds of plants. His favorite class in school was herbology, after all.

Poppies had been first on his list, and Olivia's attention had been fully on him. "Did you know that they thrive in soil that has been disturbed?" He asked, sounding so excited to explain all of this to his sister. "They are often found growing in places of conflict. They are used for medical purposes. Some kinds of poppies have edible seeds, such as the candyfloss variety. There are so many different types as well. Some have bigger petals, some are different colors, and some are different shapes than others."

Then he moved onto lilies, and Olivia did her best to keep her focus solely on him and not let her mind wander. "They can develop from either seed or bulb and can get up to six feet tall." He spoke as if the facts were mad. And they were—to someone who was invested in plants, such as he was. Olivia, on the other hand, was not, but being the good sister she was, she did her best to listen. She watched him as he spoke, letting a small smile turn her mouth as they continued to walk. "They grow best in groups of four or five; white lilies and tiger lilies are sweet-smelling, while Asiatic lilies do not have a scent. They live longer if the pollen is removed from their center. They symbolize peace in Asian cultures and innocence in others, and they are associated with good luck, fortune, and prosperity. There are more than fifty different types of water lilies, each with their own shape, size, color, fragrance, and blooming pattern, and calla lilies can be grown both indoors and outdoors."

Next was Wolfsbane, and Olivia's focus was slowly slipping away as she began thinking. But she tried to block the thoughts out of her mind and listen to her brother. She missed times like this, after all, when it was just the two of them, with him going on and on about something he was passionate about. "I am sure you know loads about Wolfsbane," he told her, and she did. They often used it at school. "Like how all of its parts are poisonous, especially the seeds and roots, the latter of which is used in the Wolfsbane potion, or how it gets its name from the enlarged sepal that gives it its helmet shape." He paused, looking over at her and seeing her eyes on him. "It can grow up to three feet tall, with stems growing two to four feet in height. It has leaves that grow outward from the tip of the petiole with up to seven deeply incised parts and blooms from midsummer to autumn. It helps to treat lycanthropy, which I am sure you are aware of, given how much you research the creatures of our world." He laughed lightly as she hummed and smiled in response.

"Dittany is also used in potion-making," he told her, moving onto a different plant. "Again, I am sure you already know this since Potions is your favorite subject." Again, she did, but she was happy to let him explain. "It's a healing and restorative herb. It makes fresh skin grow over wounds and makes them heal like nothing. When mixed with silver, it can help a werewolf bite; obviously, it doesn't cure the victim from becoming a werewolf if bitten on a full moon, but at least they don't bleed to death, I suppose," he explained, his voice falling low with the last part. Then his spirits lifted up again, the smile returning to his face. "It is also known as the Burning Bush and releases flammable vapors."

"Asphodel, also known as Royal Staff, is another plant that you're probably familiar with," he continued, and Olivia kept trying to listen, but she couldn't help her mind wander. "But did you know it is a part of the lily family?" His question was rhetorical, so Olivia didn't answer. "They have long and slender leaves and are found worldwide. They need special, well-drained soil to grow. There are sixteen known types, each with their own needs; can you believe that? They're also connected with the underworld, death, and mourning in Greek mythology."

Then he went on, but his voice began to slowly become less and less apparent in Olivia's ears as she focused in front of her, seeing the large grounds of the Mallard Manor. The sun was out for the first time in what felt like forever, and she was glad for it. She didn't know what her brother was saying or which plants he was explaining; her mind drifted to what happened at the Department of Mysteries.

Despite what she had told Harry, she wasn't doing the best she could to cope with what happened. In fact, she'd been blocking it out of her mind since the night it happened. Sirius was dead; she knew that, but she hadn't let it fully settle in, not wanting to feel the downs of grief like she had done with Cedric. The guilt would eat her alive, even though she hadn't moved out of the way this time, allowing the curse to hit the other. Bellatrix Lestrange killed Sirius with no assistance, but Olivia still felt guilty.

She should've done something. She should've been quicker with her movements; she should've seen the curse coming before it was too late. She should've been the one to be hit. She'd survived it once; who's to say that she couldn't again?

She was picking at the skin around her nails, her eyes blankly staring at the scenery in front of them. Lucas's voice was still muffled in her ears as they continued to walk. She didn't even notice when he stopped talking and looked over at her, or when he let out a sigh and gave her a look of sympathy, like he knew what she was thinking about. He spoke again, but still, she kept her eyes focused forward, not even realizing he had said something. "Olivia," he repeated, this time breaking her out of her trance as he nudged her gently.

Her attention snapped to him, looking up with a questioning look. He stared back at her with his green, slightly darker-than-hers eyes, and she raised her brows. "What?"

"You weren't listening," he told her.

"Oh," she mumbled, looking away from him. "Sorry. I got caught up in my thoughts." She offered him a half-hearted smile. "Please continue."

"No," he replied gently. "What were you thinking about?"

She found his gaze again, shrugging like it was pointless. "Nothing important."

"Olivia," he said pointedly, giving her a knowing look. Sometimes he reminded her of herself for better or worse, and that was unsettling to her bones. She didn't want him to be like her; it wasn't worth it. "What has been going on with you? You've been so distant and distracted. Does it have to do with what happened at the Ministry? What happened to Sirius?" He studied her with concern, and she looked away from him, not wanting to show the answer on her face. She knew Lucas was the only one who could truly see through her act. "Please talk to me." His tone was soft and kind, worrying. "You can tell me anything, Livvy."

"I know." She smiled back, and she truly did. "It's just... When I was in the Department of Mysteries with the others, I found something. Well, Neville found it; he just alerted me to it," she explained vaguely, still fiddling with her hands as her eyes fell forward.

"What was it?" he questioned, focusing on her completely.

"Uhm... a prophecy. Not Harry's, but my own," she admitted, daring a look at him. He had nothing but confusion written on his face as he took in her words.

"Your prophecy?"

"Yes."

"You have a prophecy?"

"Yes."

He blinked in surprise, looking forward for a second before he turned back to her, showing her his perplexed expression. "What does it say? Do Mother and Father know about it?" he inquired quickly.

She was silent for a moment, then sighed. "In the depths of death and destruction, on the grounds of teachings, the one born of chaos and darkness shall rise. The dragon's heart will awaken, unleashed by a dark mind matched with soulless eyes. Beware of the enchantress who weaves her spells, as fire reigns and the chosen one battles, for her path shall be fraught with challenges and choices. Her actions will shape the fate of all who dwell in the realm, for the one born of sinful blood shall hold the key to both chaos and salvation," she recounted, having memorized the prophecy that she kept hidden in the enchanted box Theodore had gotten her for her birthday. "And no, Mother and Father do not know about it yet. Well, they don't know that I know, at least. I'm not sure if they knew about it in the first place or not. But I'm leaning towards yes."

"What does it mean?" her brother asked.

"I'm not sure, but I am going to find out."

And she would.

That assurance stayed with her throughout the rest of that evening and into the next day. It was with her as she stormed through the manor and to the study, where her parents were spending their free time any chance they got. Being Order members and Aurors kept them busy, especially with what was going on in the world.

She knocked on the door with power, her bag hanging from her shoulder with the prophecy in its silk bag inside. She waited for a second, and the door still didn't open, so she raised her fist to knock again. Before she could, however, the wood pulled away from her, and her mother came into view with a blank look on her face.

"What do you need, Olivia Katherine?" She asked with a flat tone as she took in her daughter, who dropped her hand back to her side.

"I want to talk to you and Father about something," Olivia replied, being vague about what exactly it was that she wanted to talk about.

Her mother slightly furrowed her brows, no doubt surprised that her daughter wanted to talk to her about something. "What is it?" she questioned, almost sounding suspicious.

Olivia lifted her hand to the room. "May I?"

The older witch stood in the doorway for a second, keeping the door close to her so that Olivia couldn't see into the study, and then she released a breath and moved to the side, opening the door wider. Olivia entered, her eyes remaining on her mother as her father focused on her with confusion.

It was honestly sad that her parents were so surprised that she wanted to talk to them—most parents jumped at the chance to have conversations with their children, especially when they were teenagers.

Her mother closed the door behind her and then moved over to where her husband sat, standing next to him with a studying look. Olivia sat down in a chair in front of the desk, just as she did any other time she was in the study and speaking with her parents, usually upon their request. She set her bag down on the floor beside the chair and then focused on her parents. She was silent for a moment as she just stared at them with an unreadable expression, trying to see any hint of anything they were thinking on their faces. There was nothing. It was safe to say she learned her bluff from someone.

"If you're just going to waste our time—"

"I am not, Mother," Olivia said, cutting her off with a roll of her eyes.

"Then why are you here? What did you want to speak with us about?" She inquired, her hands clasped in front of her. She always stood like that, and it drove Olivia mad. It made her seem so calm and collected, but she knew the truth—the woman was anything but.

Olivia let out a breath, turning to her bag on the floor. She dug through it, pulling out the silk bag and focusing back on the adults in front of her. "I want to know about this," she told them. And before either one could even question her on what "this" was, she pulled the glass orb from the bag. "My prophecy," she identified, seeing the caught looks on her parents' faces. "I discovered it when I was in the Department of Mysteries." She watched as they glanced at one another, trying to keep nonchalant expressions, but finally, Olivia could see right through them. "Tell me about this and everything you've been hiding from me all of these years." Her voice was hard, and her tone was sharp.

"We didn't know about that," her mother lied, focusing on her.

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head with a bitter smile as she looked away from them and at nothing in particular. "You truly expect me to believe that, do you? The two of you work for the Ministry as Aurors and are a part of the Order, and you are telling me that you didn't know about my prophecy, really?"

They really thought she was daft, didn't they?

They just remained quiet, not letting the blank expression falter like they'd done before. But their silence confirmed everything Olivia already knew. They were lying to her; they had been her whole life. They knew about her prophecy and had never once thought to tell her. She wondered if that was what Sirius had been trying to inform her and Harry of when they first went to headquarters almost a year prior. The prophecies were clearly the weapons that Voldemort had wanted; that was why his Death Eaters had been there and why he'd given Harry a false vision.

But then why hadn't Lucius tried to get Olivia's, along with Harry's? What other secrets were they keeping from her? Was the prophecy what her mother and Snape had been talking about when peeking into her room that one late night? Did that mean he was keeping secrets from her too?

Could she trust anyone?

"I saw you in the Ministry that night," she told them, all of her emotions coming to the surface as she thought back to how her parents had seen her going against Voldemort and walked away like she was some stranger and not their eldest child and only daughter. She stood up quickly from her seat, still clutching the prophecy in her hand. "You two just stood there while Voldemort had me in his grasp! While I was wandless and could not defend myself!" She shouted, her anger rising. "He could have killed me! Me, your daughter! Your child! And you two just stood there and did damn all; you didn't even try to help me before walking away like I was nothing!" She felt tears brimming in her eyes with frustration. They were her bloody parents, and they acted as if she wasn't more than mere scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Trying to calm herself, Olivia reached for her necklace as she swallowed her tears, not wanting to cry in front of them. Again, she was reminded that she no longer had it because of her mother. She sighed, dropping her hand to her side. Her mind flashed to Draco and all of the memories the two of them shared, good or bad, as well as all of the times her mother questioned her about him and discouraged her from seeing him or from being friends (or anything more) with him.

Her focus turned to the woman, who looked just slightly stunned at the outburst, and she did her best to calm herself, lowering her voice so that she was no longer shouting. "Mother, you always wonder why I am so infatuated with Draco... It's because he actually cares about me, unlike you two, who I am supposed to call my parents—my family." She laughed bitterly, though nothing was funny in the slightest. "So by all means," she began, placing the prophecy back in the silk bag and then walking forward towards her bag. Grabbing her bag, she stuck the prophecy back in it and slung the strap over her shoulder. "Continue to lie to me about everything as you've done for my whole life. I will figure out what this prophecy means on my own."

Turning around, Olivia went to leave, not wanting to hear anymore from them or discuss anything else. They weren't going to tell her the truth? She'd just have to find it herself, with or without the help of anyone else. But before she could escape the study, a loud pop sounded on the side of the room, and Olivia stopped in her tracks to focus on what it had come from—or rather, whom. Bobbin stood there, looking at the three of them with her big and wide eyes.

"A letter has arrived for Mistress Clodagh and Master Andrew," Bobbin explained with her high-pitched and shaky voice.

"Thank you, Bobbin," Olivia's father replied, standing up from his seat. The house elf just nodded and then disappeared with another snap. He and his wife then walked to the door as both of them focused on Olivia, who was looking at them with boredom.

The girl went to open her mouth as they brushed past her, standing between her and the door, but her mother raised a finger. "Stay here, Olivia Katherine," she ordered her, giving her a pointed look. Olivia wondered why; she knew that they weren't going to tell her anything. She'd probably only get a lecture from them. "We're not done." They left the study, closing the door behind them.

Olivia stood there for a moment, contemplating leaving anyway, despite what she'd been told to do, and then she sighed. She turned around, running her hand through her hair as she began going back to her seat, thinking about how she was going to get the answers she wanted about the prophecy.

Suddenly, she felt something wash over her, and she stopped. It was an odd feeling, almost tingling her skin. Something told her to turn to the bookshelves, and so she did, her eyes immediately landing on that book—the one she had noticed each time she had been in this study, the first time when Tommy had wandered in there during her first Christmas holiday since starting Hogwarts. It felt like it was drawing her towards it, and she took a couple of steps forward, her eyes not falling from it. As she got closer, the feeling got stronger and stronger. When she finally came to a stop in front of the bookcase, it was like she couldn't control herself as she reached for the book. Her fingers tingled as they touched the spine of it, and slowly she pulled the book off the shelf.

Once she had it in her hands, she seemed to snap out of a trance, one she didn't even realize she had been in. The book buzzed against her skin, like there was powerful magic coming from it. She read the title. The Tale of the Crestgroves. Who the bloody hell were the Crestgroves? She'd never heard of that family before. And why did her father have this in his study? Her questions didn't get answered as she realized that her parents could come back any second. She didn't want to put the book back before she had time to examine it—she felt she needed to.

Drawing her wand, aiming it at the book, her mouth opened to utter the duplication charm, but then a realization came over her. She was still underage and couldn't do wand magic outside of school. Letting out a sigh, she put her wand back in her bag and did her best to make a duplicate without it. The new copy wasn't identical to the original, but it was close enough that no one would be able to tell. She placed the copy on the shelf and took the original for herself, shoving it into her bag. Then she rushed over to the door and exited the room, not even caring that she was told to stay put.

She'd told her parents that she was going to figure out her prophecy by herself and that she would do so. She didn't care what they had to say. She knew it wouldn't be anything of use to her anyway.

Rushing up to her room, Olivia quickly entered and closed the door behind her. She went over to the spelled box Theodore had given her for her birthday and opened it with a wave of her wand. Inside, she placed the prophecy and the book, not wanting her parents to be able to find either, just in case one of them went through her room. She closed the box and spelled it again, so that only she could open it. Then she made her way over to her desk, sitting down in her chair as she let out a breath.

She knew she shouldn't do it, but she had fought off the urge for too long. Grabbing parchment, her quill, and an inkwell, she began composing a letter to Draco. She missed speaking to him dearly, despite it only having been two weeks since she had seen him.

Dear Draco,
          How are you? I know that your father's arrest was made public, and I've heard the whispers involving your family's name floating about. I'm sorry about that, despite it all. I hope you are doing as well as you can. You and your mother. Please do your best to write back to me. I look forward to hearing from you.

          See you soon.

Love,
Olivia

          P.S. I miss you.

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━━━━ ella's speaking !
teehee i love knowing things people don't 🤭

i got the idea for lucas's ranting about plants from my friend bc i could not for the life of me figure out a new chapter idea when i merged two together, so everyone say thank you indi!! lucas is such a flower child 😭

i really hope you enjoyed this chapter! there's only two more left of act five to publish- i can't believe it !!!

make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

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

word count: 4724. written: 8.2-3.24. published: 10.15.24.