Draco

After my last encounter with Celeste, a fire ignited within me—a relentless need to keep a close watch on her. There was something about her, something she was concealing, that set my instincts on edge. Those eyes, like deep emerald pools, seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow, as if they held the weight of unspeakable deeds. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew she was hiding more than she let on. I had promised my mother I would keep an eye on her, and so I would, whether Celeste welcomed it or not. She would become another task on my ever-growing list, though not quite as urgent as the one the Dark Lord had entrusted to me.

As I watched Celeste converse with Dumbledore that evening, I couldn't help but imagine myself in the position to kill the man. The thought seemed impossible, almost absurd. Yet, in reality, it was nothing more than a chore—an obligation I had to fulfill to prove my worth as a Death Eater, to protect my family from the horrors that failure would bring. But already, I could feel myself getting distracted, torn between my duty and the enigma that was Celeste Ravenscroft. Perhaps I was using her arrival as an excuse, or perhaps I was right—something about her was off, something I couldn't ignore.

She was a Slytherin, yet the way she spoke to me, the way she challenged me without fear of consequence, was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Did she not fear who I was? Did she not understand what I could do to her, or what could be done on my command? My mother had spoken of her family's deep ties to the Dark Arts, but to what extent? When she whispered those words to me in the Great Hall—"You're not my lord, are you?"—they felt like a veiled threat, a reminder of something far more sinister. It was as though she was hinting at her own closeness to the Dark Lord, a notion that sent a shiver down my spine, even as it intrigued me.

Celeste Ravenscroft was a mystery, one I was determined to unravel. But as I delved deeper into her secrets, I wondered if I was merely walking into a trap of my own making, one that would entangle us both in ways neither of us could foresee.

My mission remained unshaken: on the night of the Mid-Autumn Ball, Dumbledore would fall, and with his end, my fate would be forever bound to the Dark Lord, just as my parents had intended. I resolved to eliminate all distractions, steeling myself as I walked back to my dorm. But as I turned the corner, footsteps echoed in the hall. I saw her then—Celeste—disappearing in a swirl of her black cloak, the hood draped over her long brunette hair. Something clinked against the floor as she vanished down the steps. I tried to follow, but she was gone before I could determine which way she went.

On the cold tile lay a bracelet—a silver serpent charm dangling delicately from it. It was unique and hauntingly beautiful, much like Celeste herself, only less irritating because it didn't speak. I picked it up, feeling its warmth against my skin, as if there was a trust, an unspoken bond, between the bracelet and my touch. It was enchanted, that much was clear, but instead of recoiling or biting back, it settled in my palm as if it belonged there.

I had no choice but to pocket it, waiting for her return. I sat in the common area, pretending to study, though my mind was elsewhere. Hours passed, the night dragging on until the faint light of dawn threatened to break. Finally, she appeared before me, startled to find me still awake.

"Where were you?" I demanded, my voice tinged with an authority I wasn't sure I had the right to claim. But I felt entitled to know—after all, she was my responsibility while at Hogwarts. If she was indulging in reckless behavior, I deserved to be informed.

"I'm not sure I understand your question," she replied, her tone laced with confusion.

"Where were you? It's a simple question," I repeated.

"Yes, I understand the question, Malfoy. I just don't see why you think you deserve an answer." Her voice hardened, meeting my gaze with defiance.

"I saw you leave after curfew, which is against the rules. It's my responsibility to ensure you follow them, though you've made that increasingly difficult. You forced me to stay up all night waiting for you to return," I admitted, the frustration slipping through my words. A smirk played on her lips, her emerald eyes glowing in the dim candlelight as they locked onto mine.

"You waited up for me? How sweet," she taunted. "But let me remind you, Malfoy—I'm not your responsibility. I come and go as I please. And as for curfew, haven't you learned by now? I make my own rules. One of them being that you don't tell me what to do. I despise orders, especially from those who have no real power." She turned to leave, her words dripping with finality, but I couldn't let her go just yet.

"Did you lose something?" I jingled the charm bracelet in front of her, watching as surprise flickered across her face.

"It's... enchanted. How are you able to hold it?" she asked, genuine confusion coloring her voice.

"I was wondering the same thing. Maybe you botched the spell. Seems you might need that tutoring from Snape after all," I teased, revealing that I had overheard her conversation with Dumbledore. She rolled her eyes and reached for the bracelet.

"It was a protection spell, crafted by my mother. It's impossible she got it wrong." For the first time, her eyes held something more—a hint of emotion, something I didn't think she was capable of.

"Looks like she did," I replied. "Or perhaps..." I paused, stepping closer, "it chose not to see me as a threat. But I wouldn't be too sure about that, Ravenscroft." I winked and walked away, leaving her staring at the bracelet, confusion clouding her features. It seemed that even she wasn't as infallible as she believed.

The next morning, as I settled into my seat in Defense class, my mind replayed the last twenty-four hours like a haunting melody. I couldn't shake the memory of her eyes—emeralds that shimmered with the regal allure of royalty. They were haunting, secretive, drawing you in with their mystery only to cast you aside when you ventured too close. Just as I managed to push the thought of those eyes from my mind, they appeared beside me, settling into the seat right next to mine.

"The disadvantages of being late," Celeste sighed, her gaze meeting mine. We both couldn't help but share a fleeting smile, a moment of unspoken connection.

"Celeste Ravenscroft, did you just smile at me?" I asked, nearly choking on my surprise.

"Don't get used to it. Momentary lapse in judgment—I didn't get much sleep," she replied, her tone slipping back into its usual guarded nature. And there it was again, the enigma of where she had been the night before, stretching from dusk till dawn.

"Is that so? You wouldn't have been out after curfew, would you?" I teased as Snape strode into the classroom. At the sight of him, Celeste's demeanor shifted, a veil of calm descending over her.

"As if you were really studying in the library all night," she whispered in my ear as the lesson began. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she liked the idea of me waiting up for her, ensuring her safe return. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit to the overwhelming sense of relief I felt when she reappeared in the hallway. It was an emotion that vexed me, a weakness that I despised in myself, someone who prided himself on never revealing vulnerable feelings of any kind.

As the class progressed, Potter and his ragtag group of friends dominated the discussion, eagerly answering nearly every question Snape posed. Celeste, however, remained uncharacteristically quiet for someone who had once topped her wizarding class at a school she never named. I couldn't help but watch her, the way her gaze lingered on the board, then flitted to the students around her, dissecting their every movement and emotion. It was as if she were studying them, not the material—assessing their strengths, their weaknesses—like a true Slytherin. But to what end? It wasn't academic excellence she sought. That title had long been claimed by Granger, who, for the sixth year running, had it wrapped around her finger.

When Snape posed a question about the most powerful spell used to inflict pain, Hermione's hand shot up with her usual fervor. "Crucio," she announced, her voice dripping with certainty. "This spell subjects its victim to unbearable agony," she explained, exuding that know-it-all confidence. But I rolled my eyes. Yes that spell inflicted physical pain. But there was a spell far more powerful than just one that caused pain. There was one that would kill you where you stood.

I glanced at Celeste, expecting her to be taking notes. Instead, I caught her rolling her eyes, her lips moving in a barely audible whisper.

"Child's play...the Killing Curse is far more powerful and final..." she murmured, her voice so soft that only I, seated beside her, could catch it. I turned to her, shock rippling through me, though I masked it well. How did she know of that spell—one so forbidden, spoken only by those in allegiance to the Dark Lord? "Avada Ked—" she began, her voice carrying the first syllables with a casualness that sent a wave of panic through me.

The realization hit me like a curse itself—I would soon have to utter those same words, to take Dumbledore's life, to carry the weight of his blood on my hands. And here she was, speaking it as though it were nothing more than a spell to unlock a door.

"Celeste..." I snapped, cutting her off just as the class ended.

"What?" she asked, her tone nonchalant.

"If you know the answer, raise your hand," I suggested, trying to mask my unease.

"Malfoy, no one wants the real answer. If they did, they wouldn't ask the question in the first place," she replied, a sly smile playing on her lips as she stood.

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, unable to stop myself from following her.

"Must the stalking continue? I'm flattered, Malfoy, but I prefer my own company," Celeste said as she strode down the hall. But I couldn't help it—I followed her all the way back to dorm before she disappeared behind her door. Everything about her had ensnared me, all at once. Did I hate her? Was this a game of trying to break her? Or was it something far more dangerous?

Later that day, after catching up with Blaise and Theo in the Slytherin common room, I decided to seek refuge in the library. It was time to open a book and immerse myself in study. I couldn't afford to let my mind dwell solely on Celeste and the looming shadow of the Dark Lord's wrath for unfulfilled tasks. Lost in the fifth chapter of my potions book, I heard a laugh—a sound that wrapped around me like a warm, comforting embrace. I turned, and there she was, a vision of breathtaking beauty that seemed to defy reality itself.

Celeste was seated at a table with Potter, Ron, and Granger. Their conversation was light, but Potter's attention seemed fixated on her, flirting in a way that stoked an irrational fury within me. She was mine to watch over—my responsibility, though it felt like possession. It was my duty to ensure she adhered to the rules of Slytherin and kept her distance from the enemy, but there she was, flaunting her defiance. Her relentless disregard was both infuriating and oddly admirable. I knew I had to intervene—for the sake of my family and the reputation of Slytherin.

"Ravenscroft!" I called out across the room, my voice cutting through the quiet. She looked up, startled, and attempted to hush me with a finger to her lips. But I wasn't to be deterred. "Come over here, or I'll keep yelling. Celeste." My voice was firm and commanding. Reluctantly, she rose and approached me, catching sight of the librarian about to make her way over, offering a warning glance. I gave a half-hearted apology in return.

"What is all this about? Stalking me? Following me to the library? If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a crush on me," Celeste said, sliding into the seat beside me.

"What are you doing with them?" I ignored her playful taunt.

"We're studying. Is that against the rules in Slytherin as well?" She raised an eyebrow, and in that moment, something shifted—an unspoken connection between us that I couldn't quite articulate. It was as if an eternal thread was pulling us together.

"Well..." She waited for my response, but I was lost in the depths of her emerald eyes. They felt like a sanctuary, a respite from the darkness that consumed me. They offered a solace I hadn't known I needed, a comfort amidst the chaos.

"Malfoy..." She repeated, drawing me back to reality.

"Study with me instead?" I asked, surprising myself with the earnestness of my request. I simply wanted to be in her presence a little longer. A comfort I had never found in anyone before.

"Are you serious?" she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Yes," I replied, trying to mask my vulnerability with a facade of practicality. "You're smart, and so am I. It's mutually beneficial for us and our house. We'll work together to keep Gryffindor from claiming the top marks this year."

"You and I? Working together?" She laughed, a sound that was as enchanting as it was unexpected.

"Come on, Celeste. I'm not as awful as you think," I said, meeting her gaze. The intensity in her eyes mirrored the way I had been staring at her, but just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

"Fine, but on one condition," she said with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm eager to hear this," I said, crossing my arms, feigning annoyance.

"You need to back off with the stalking. I'll meet with you to study every day, but other than that...please don't hover outside my door like a concerned father. I already have one of those, and even he isn't this overbearing." Her teasing words stung, but there was a playfulness in her tone that softened the blow.

"If you can keep this commitment, I see no reason not to keep my distance—for now. But don't make me regret it by getting yourself into trouble," I warned.

"Malfoy, I am trouble. You're the one who's gotten yourself into it," Celeste's words hit me like an arrow to the heart as she rose and walked away. As I watched her leave, I realized that not only had I distracted myself from my duties, but I had also begun to relish the distraction, especially if it meant sharing it with her.