BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
037 ━━━━━━━━━ ❛ crochet doll ❜

It was so amazing to Olivia how the others, including Lucas, carried on with their time like nothing had happened, like the words they had spoken meant nothing. She was haunted by the thoughts and worries of her second year—and even some of the first were seeping in—and they moved on with their day.

Don't trust anyone. Those were the words of an anonymous note on her birthday, paired with tools, potions, and hidden gems.

What was that supposed to mean? Who had given her the letter? And why wasn't she supposed to trust anyone?

I hope you discover whoever hurt Tommy and make them pay in a way only you can. Those were the words of her mother, the one who had never been there, loved her, or helped her like a mother should, paired with a cold, does-not-understand-what-you-are-feeling gaze and emotionless words.

In a way only she could—again, what was that supposed to mean? She was going to do it, but how did her mother expect her to get revenge and still keep the family name the way she wanted it? How was she supposed to do it without getting in trouble or misbehaving?

You're destined for great things. Those were the words of the sixteen-year-old version of one of the greatest dark wizards to ever exist, paired with tingling magic, dark power, and more and more worrisome and curious thoughts.

Tom Riddle and his vague words... She'd curse him if he were still around.

What great things? How was she supposed to accomplish these great things? Were they accomplishments at all? She had so many questions and yet no answers.

You acted the same. Those were the words of a wizard the same age as her, who destroyed Voldemort and brought danger anywhere he went, paired with annoyance and unanswered questions.

How so, Potter? That was what she wanted to ask him every time she passed him in the corridors on the way to class. How was she acting the same as Tom? How was she similar to that hypocrite of a man in any way? How?

This place is changing you. And I don't like it. Those were the words of her brother, the one she had practically raised for the beginnings of his life, the one she had taught everything to when she was still learning herself, paired with a disappointed gaze that pegged at her heart.

That one hurt coming from Lucas. How was she changing? His tone of voice made it seem as if it was a bad thing. What could she do to go back to how she apparently used to be? What could she do to take away the disappointment?

She didn't know the answers to any of those questions. None of them whatsoever. It was bloody frustrating.

She needed to get out of her own head. Reading and studying were no longer working. Classes had taken a slower turn since the school year was coming to an end. And she didn't have any exams to prepare for. So with that, she turned to the one person she knew who never worried about anything—the one who never seemed to pay any mind to anything around him.

Theodore 'No-Middle-Name' Nott

It was probably, most likely, a bad idea, but he had said that she could 'trust him with her deepest, darkest secrets' once. She wasn't actually going to spill those to him; her to-do list still had some on-going and in-progress things; she didn't need Theodore spilling his guts to everyone about her plans.

Raising her hand to the door for what felt like the millionth time, she finally knocked. Immediately, she regretted it when the door swung open, showcasing the boy's cheesy grin. Did he always grin like that when someone showed up to his room? It was sort of unnerving if he did.

Studying Olivia's face, he asked, still smiling, "What are you doing here, sugar plum?" He ignored the glare she sent him due to the nickname.

"This was a bad idea," she muttered under her breath, sighing as she looked away from him.

He gave her a confused look. "What?"

"Nothing," she replied, shaking the regret from her mind. She offered him a small smile, and she was sure it looked less than genuine—she didn't smile all that often unless it was to unerve someone. "May I come in?" She lifted her hand, gesturing into the room that he shared with Blaise.

"Yeah, sure." He pulled the door open more, letting her in.

Taking a step forward, she brushed past him, going into the room. She'd never been in the boys' room, even though she'd known them for almost two years. Her eyes lingered all around the room as Theodore shut the door. It looked much like her room, just a bit messier on one side—she supposed that was Theodore's side; Blaise always was neat.

There were two beds, two wardrobes, two dressers, and two desks. Out of each one of those, one was messy, and the other barely looked used—neat and untouched. The room was dark for the most part, with only a bit of light seeping in from the window. Both beds seemed to be clad with the fanciest duvets, green, of course, one could find on the market.

The room was just as she expected, not that she had been expecting anything different. But when her eyes fell on the floor beside what she presumed was Theodore's bed, she saw something that was different—a basket of yarn in all different colors. There were also needle-looking things—shiny metal with a hook at the end.

Furrowing her brows, she turned to face Theodore, who was leaning against one of the desks. "Is that yours?" she asked, pointing to the basket.

He straightened his spine and walked to stand beside her so that he could have a better view of what she was talking about. "Yeah," he said, shrugging as he met her gaze. "I like to crochet."

"Crochet?" Olivia raised her brows. What in Merlin's name was crochet?

"Yeah," he nodded, then studied her face for a moment. Seeing the confusion swirling in her eyes, he let out a small laugh. "Do you know what crochet is?"

She shook her head, moving to sit down on his bed.

He followed her with his eyes, trying to see if she was serious or not. "Crochet is sort of like knitting. There's only slight differences," he explained, moving towards his bed, and she creased her brows even more. "Do you know what knitting is?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

She shook her head again, and he sighed.

"That is mad." He stared at her with amusement. Then, after a moment, he leaned down and picked up the basket. "Alright, well, I am going to teach you"—he began, taking some rolls of yarn and handing them to her—"because I think you'll enjoy it."

She gave him an unsure look. "I don't think—"

"Is the Olivia Mallard about to say she doesn't think she'll be good at something?" He gaped, looking at her with wide eyes. "I have truly seen and heard it all." He dramatically threw his hands down in his lap.

"Theodore." She gave him a pointed look.

"What?" He returned the look, though it was more teasing than anything. She continued to look unsure, and he continued to stare at her, trying to convince her. When she didn't budge, he sighed, turning to face forward. "Come on, Olivia. I'm sure you'll be brilliant at it. You are at most things," he encouraged, looking at her.

A moment passed of her just staring at him, her eyes slightly narrowing as she chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought. Then she sighed, throwing her hands in the air. "Well, since you're so convinced, why not?" She breathed out a laugh, grabbing some yarn. "But if I make a fool of myself—"

"I'll be sure to tell everyone," he finished for her, giving her a teasing grin. "The Olivia Mallard is finally not good at something," he said, lifting his hands like he was envisioning something as he looked to the ceiling. "I can see the headline already."

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Can we just get this over with?"

Huffing out a breath, he sat more on his bed, facing his body to hers, while she kicked off her shoes and followed his actions. "Alright." He clapped his hands together. "First and foremost, I have to give you a crash course in crochet because someone does not know something for once," he teased, picking up red yarn and two of those needle things. "Once you get the hang of it, I'll teach you how to make three-dimensional things." He picked up a small, light green crochet jellyfish from the bottom of the basket.

"Woah," she mumbled, grabbing the jellyfish from his hands. "You made this?" She looked up at him, astonished.

"Yep," he answered, popping the 'p.' "And I made this basket," he added, picking up the object that held his crochet-related supplies and creations.

Olivia looked up from the crochet jellyfish she had been studying. Meeting his gaze, then taking in the basket, she gaped. She hadn't paid attention to the basket that closely before then. It was a beautiful mauve-purple color, decorated with white flowers. "This is gorgeous, Theodore," she told him, looking into his blue eyes. "I will be honest; I didn't expect this from you."

"Most don't." He shrugged. "You should've seen the look on Blaise's face when he saw me doing it." He laughed, glancing down at his basket. "He thought I was pulling a fast one on him." Taking the jellyfish from her hands, he examined it and then put it back in the basket. "He said that 'only grandmothers' crochet,' but after a while, he grew used to it. I even taught him to make a few things," he explained.

"Huh," she muttered, zoning out for a moment. "The only hobbies I have are reading, studying, and... well, that's it," she commented, meeting his gaze once more. "Lucas draws and paints, and probably some other things I don't know about, but I've never had the talent for those." She shrugged, sitting up straight.

"We all have our own strengths and weaknesses," he replied.

"Indeed, we do," she agreed.

And with that, Theodore moved on to teach her, giving her the basics of crochet—from how to knot the yarn to how to end one path and start another; how to use the tools and what they were for.

She cursed a few times here and there and even threatened to hex the yarn if it wouldn't cooperate, to which he told her it wasn't the yarn's fault. But once she finally got the hang of it, things began to go more smoothly. The two stayed quiet while Olivia focused, trying to complete a pattern without messing it up. Theodore helped her when she needed it, keeping a close eye on her progress.

She sighed once she finished that pattern. Crochet, even though she hadn't known what it was at first, was a lot harder than she anticipated it to be. Theodore seemed amused by her annoyance, and she resisted the urge to scowl at him.

"Alright, I'm done," she said, lifting up the pattern to show the boy next to her.

He studied it for a moment, keeping his expression flat so that she couldn't make out what he was thinking. Then a smile cracked on his face. Looking up at Olivia, he said, "This is really good. The student becomes the master."

"I wouldn't go that far," she laughed.

"No, seriously—you're quite a fast learner," he reassured, handing her back the pattern she just made. "Now, are you ready to learn how to make three-dimensional things?" The look on his face was nothing short of devious, which made her slightly concerned. "Specifically dolls"

She gave him a look that let him know she was unsure, ignoring his devious one. "Sure," she muttered.

A bright smile overtook the boy's face as he grabbed some more yarn and got to teaching. He showed her all of the steps—from how to make the head, body, and hair to how to attach them all together. Then next was how to make the clothes and shoes, how to add the eyes (which he had in varying colors), and how to use the tools necessary.

She watched closely and took note of each movement and technique.

And once he was done, he turned to her, raising his brows. "Easy enough," he said. "Ready to try for yourself?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, giving him a small smile. That was when a thought popped into her mind. A devious and brilliant thought. She watched Theodore as he went to speak. "I think I'm going to make a doll of Malfoy," she stated, causing him to snap his mouth shut.

He furrowed his brows, giving her a curious and slightly confused look. "Malfoy? Are you sure?" he asked, sounding unsure of the thought.

"Yes. It would freak him out, don't you think?"

That was when it dawned on him, thanks to her helping spell it out for him. "Ah, yes, that would be hilarious." He laughed, then he cracked his knuckles, preparing himself for his own work. "I'm going to make something for Blaise, something very special."

She returned the curious look he'd given her moments before. "Alright," she dragged out. She wondered what this "very special" thing was going to be but didn't ask or say anything more. She focused on her work, wanting the doll to be perfectly Malfoy-like.

The only reason she wanted to make a doll of—and for—Malfoy was because she wanted to freak him out. That was the only reason. He'd been too likable as of late, and she was tired of it. She needed something to reestablish the one-sided despise-you relationship (gross word) that they had. Plus, as Theodore put it, it would be hilarious.

A freaked-out Malfoy was always hilarious.

And with those thoughts in mind, Olivia continued on with her work. The time seemed to go by fast yet slow all the same. She and Theodore stayed quiet for the most part, only talking when she'd ask a question or when one of them needed something the other had.

A few curses from her mouth spilled here and there as she fought with her piece. But once she was done and was proud of her accomplishment, she had a perfectly crafted and exact replica of the blonde boy she still didn't consider a friend or anything close.

She was proud of herself, and that was always a feeling she reveled in. Holding out the doll so that she could study it to reassure herself that everything was as it should be, she looked at the smaller, same-blonde doll version of Draco Lucius Malfoy.

The doll had overly-blonde hair, pale skin, cloudy gray eyes, and was clad in a set of Slytherin robes. It had black trousers, black shoes (her depiction of his usual oxfords), and a small green and white tie (which had been incredibly difficult to craft out of yarn). It was perfectly Malfoy-like, and she was sure it would be his worst nightmare, though he did like looking in the mirror, so perhaps not.

"I'm quite proud of this," she admitted, looking over at Theodore, who was already looking at the doll.

The boy had spent his time making that "something special" for Blaise he had talked about. It was a small thing, so it didn't take him long. He had worked on something else, which Olivia wasn't sure was because he had turned away from her while doing so.

"That is perfectly Draco; it's almost freaking me out," he grimaced, looking away from the crochet doll and meeting her eyes. "I had no idea you spent so much time studying his features," he teased.

She narrowed her eyes, looking offended. "I do nothing of the sort," she scoffed. Her? Studying Malfoy's features closely? Lunacy!

Raising his hands defensively, Theodore fought a laugh. "Sorry," he muttered, giving her an amused look.

Rolling her eyes, though she wasn't annoyed with him, just his words, she got off the bed. She grabbed her boots and quickly slipped them on as he watched. "Come on," she murmured, walking towards the door before he could even blink.

She opened the door as he got off the bed and walked out into the hall. Trailing down the floor, she blocked Theodore's word from her mind, not waiting on him to follow, which he was doing easily despite her large and fast steps.

They passed door after door and the other halls, leading towards the other years' dorms, until they finally reached the stairs that led to the common room. Olivia carefully walked down each step while Theodore carelessly took two at a time, gaining a pointed look from her. But finally, when they reached the bottom, they saw their friends, as well as Malfoy and Daphne, sitting on the couches and in the chairs.

The two gave each other knowing looks as they walked over to the group. Olivia hid the crochet Malfoy doll behind her back, while she was sure Theodore did his creations.

"Hey," Pansy smiled as Olivia sat down next to Malfoy and Theodore stood next to Blaise. "Where have you two been all morning?" she asked, sounding curious.

"Uh, I needed a break from studying and reading, so I asked Theodore to teach me how to crochet," Olivia explained. This earned gasps from all of the ones sitting next to her, and she rolled her eyes.

"You needed a break from studying and reading?" Lucas asked, giving her an overly shocked look as he put his hand over his heart, ashonished by her words.

"Yes, I know, how shocking," she sarcastically retorted. "However, it was fun learning something new," she continued. "And Theodore is a rather good instructor." She looked up at the boy, who was still standing next to the chair Blaise sat in.

"Thank you very much," Theodore nodded.

"I'm still shocked you know how to crochet, and I've known for over a year now," Blaise admitted, giving a small chuckle as he looked up at the boy as well.

"Exactly," Olivia agreed, then fell silent with the rest of the group. She turned to Malfoy, who sat beside her, looking at her with admiring eyes just like he always did. "Malfoy," she began, gaining everyone's attention as a smirk crept on her face. "Do you want to see what I've made?"

Shock overtook his features, which she wasn't paying close attention to whatsoever. "Sure," he muttered, giving a look mixed with confusion and interest.

Slowly, she removed the doll from behind her back and brought it out so that everyone could see it. The smirk on her face stayed in place as Malfoy studied it closely, taking in all of its features that matched his. His brows were furrowed as he looked over it, and Olivia believed her plan was working. But then a small smile crept on his face, and her face fell flat.

"Why don't you look freaked out?" She questioned him, giving him an annoyed look.

"Because I am not," he answered, sending a small smile in return.

Huffing out a breath, she looked away from him. "And why is that?" She picked at the skin around her nails, preparing herself for his, no doubt, annoying response.

"Because I like it." He sounded so sure of his answer that it made Olivia so frustrated. He was supposed to hate it; that was the whole point. "And you made it," he muttered, straightening his spine as he sat up a bit more.

She looked back at him, giving him a pointed look that made him feel as if he shouldn't of said that. She studied him for a moment, remaining quiet and feeling the eyes of the others on her. Then she rolled her eyes, handing him the doll. "You can keep it," she said as he took the doll, then she stood up from the couch, ready to leave and get back to reading and studying. A day without them was a day she needed; now she wanted to go back to her routine—it was her safety net.

But before she could get too far away, Theodore gently grabbed her wrist. "Not so fast. I haven't given out my creations," he told her as she turned around to face him. He softly smiled at her, letting go of her wrist, then turned to Blaise. "Blaise, my roommate, my best mate," he began, taking his very special creation from behind his back, "this is for you." He handed the red crochet heart to Blaise, who slowly took it, probably expecting it to harm him in some way.

"It's a heart." Blaise gave him a suspicious look as he studied the creation.

"Yes, I know," he nodded, smirking. "I made it because I love you so much," he teased, leaning down to make a kissing face and making noises right next to the boy's face.

Blaise pushed Theodore back with a hand on his face, grimacing at the noises. "Get out of here," he said, gaining laughs from everyone, especially Theodore.

After a moment, Theodore turned to face Olivia, who had her arms crossed over her chest, looking at Blaise with amusement. "And Olivia," he continued, taking the other thing (the one he had hidden from her) out from behind his back just as he did with Blaise. "This is for you." He handed her a black cat with electric green eyes.

Olivia gave him a surprised look mixed with a little happiness. He countered it with a small smile as she took the crochet cat. "Is this supposed to be Tommy?" she asked, looking over the creation. It looked just like Tommy.

"Yes. I thought you'd like something that reminded you of him. Something that was as if he's always with you, you know?" He scatched the back of his neck. "I know how much you miss him," he added, ignoring all of the knowing looks he was receiving.

A small smile broke on Olivia's face as she looked at him again. "Thank you, Theodore," she said. And then she did something no one was expecting—she hugged him. It was a short hug, almost as if it hadn't happened at all, and if someone blinked, they definitely would've missed it.

But one thing that couldn't of been missed, except by Olivia, was the blush on Theodore's face.

"You're welcome," he replied as she took a step back.

And with that, Olivia walked away, not realizing the longing look he was giving her. Everyone else did, though, and when she finally made it up the stairs and out of his sight, he cleared his throat, turning to face his friends. "What?" he asked when he saw their knowing eyes.

No one said anything. Pansy, on the other hand, laughed, amused by the boy's actions.

"Oh, shut it." He rolled his eyes, going to sit next to Daphne on one of the couches, not paying any mind to the narrow-eyed look he was getting from Malfoy.

"I didn't say anything."

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
i need to stop making olivia learn/do things i barely know how to do myself lmfao 😭

this is not my favorite chapter ever, but i do still like it. i hope you do as well! and make sure to comment and vote 🫶🏻

kisses.

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

word count: 3971.   written: 10.23.23.   published: 10.23.23.