Die or kill...

The morning began for me with the question of how best to present myself. Because I really wanted to bang my head against the wall. My sixteen-year-old brain did not think about such delights of life, which were called dating. So there was complete hopelessness in my wardrobe. Looking at the roommates, I realized with longing that it was not worth waiting for help from there. The girls were terribly jealous and furious that I had the opportunity to go on a date with the most handsome guy in school. If they knew how I achieved this, they would instantly stop winding snot on my fist. Blackmail is a wonderful thing! Squinting into the mirror, I decided to pin up the curly locks on my head first. Perhaps this will give me a slightly neater look and allow me not to stand out from the crowd. Being a rebel is good, but only until it starts to go sideways for you. That's how it is now… After digging out the only skirt that my mother had stuffed with me, I tried on a school blouse and realized that things were getting better. A little carelessness. Twist the ends, release one tail from under the belt and chip off the sleeves. It doesn't seem to be bad. It even turned out a little pretentious. After turning around for another half minute and making sure that I looked good, I fished out a pale pink lipstick from the bottom of the bag and still tried to beg for mascara. The neighbors were honored to make such sacrifices, and I no longer looked like a pale moth. Well, it will do for a start, and then it will be seen how to act according to the circumstances. For now, I should have enlisted Malfoy's support and found out exactly what happened to me six months before my death. For the events of those months worried me in earnest. Shaking her head, she pushed the idiotic thoughts away from herself. This has not happened yet… I have a chance to fix everything and not let these freaks ruin our whole life with one of their own. No! Now I'm strong, now I know who I can trust. And most importantly, I understand why the enemy of my enemy is my friend! If the Weasleys wanted all the characters dead, then I feel sorry for the children in advance. They will either grow up to be the same freaks as our spouses, or, having shown character, they can go to waste. Like Billy and Fred… The truth is always bitter. It settled on his tongue with the bitter taste of whiskey and the smoke of cigarettes, which Harry became addicted to after five years of marriage. A small bar on the outskirts of the city. A huge capital… And we, like rats, huddled in the very slums, where no one cared about the neighbors. Only there, far away from prying eyes, could you take off your mask for a moment and become yourself. That's why it was disgusting in my soul. I wanted to change the story and show that we are worth something too! At least for a moment, but in fact, to turn into a gear in this difficult world. Now, none of this happened. Only loneliness and palpable pangs of conscience. At forty, you begin to understand what you didn't realize at sixteen. It is necessary to look not at the words, but at the actions of people. The same Ron ran away as soon as he got the chance, and Draco… Time after time, he exposed his own skin, getting us out of trouble. His wand was in Harry's hands on that fateful day. Not ours, but his. He chose to die, but to give an opportunity. And I didn't understand, I saw in him only childish prejudices and ghosts of the past. Myself, so lonely and doomed to perish. Putting all my misgivings aside for later, I put on my shoes and left the dormitory. There was no reason to put it off any longer. I missed breakfast anyway, thinking about how I could get out and get myself in order. I still didn't get any ideas, but it took a decent amount of time. So I clutched my purse in my hands with excitement and hoped that Malfoy would behave with dignity and not dump me in front of the whole school. It was closed, but damn, you can't keep rumors outside the walls. In an hour, half the world will know about it. But no, my date was standing and propping himself up against the wall. I even paused for a moment to think about whether I had inadvertently caught glitches. The black pants hugged my muscular, athletic legs so tightly that I hung up. And the white shirt, not tucked into the belt, seemed to mirror my negligence. Either he was watching me, or the idiots had the same idea. But the most amazing thing was not even that. And the handkerchief in his hands, in which a couple of pies were carefully wrapped. I almost shed tears of emotion. A nervous laugh escaped my lips, but I nevertheless approached Malfoy and, to the surprised whispers of everyone around, modestly smiled at him. He didn't stay in the hall any longer than necessary, shoved pies into my hands, grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me to the exit under the dumbfounded gazes of fellow students. I just sighed heavily and began to move my legs in the direction he was pulling me. We don't need any extra gossip, there will be so many of them now that there will be enough for a closed private boarding school for six months. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips, but I honestly waited until hundreds of red-hot curious stares stopped frantically hunting us. What can I do, if it comes to that, then I'm ready to play the role to the last. Although it was strange to realize that I had once slept with him there without a twinge of conscience, and now I was almost blushing, feeling a hot side and strong fingers on my elbow. It's like bipolar disorder has started again and it's time to go to a psychiatrist to sign up for an emergency brain resuscitation session. —Listen, don't shake like I'm taking you to the slaughter," the cavalier chuckled, "and eat before you faint in fright, you weren't at breakfast. — I didn't expect such compassion and understanding from you, — I drawled, but I accepted the offer and bit into the pie with my teeth, — it's delicious. — Mother cooks herself, she doesn't trust anyone with this business, — Malfoy smiled wryly and looked at me, — and you, apparently, tried to pick up something decent for a walk. — You know, yesterday there was such a madhouse among the women that it was funny, — I laughed, relaxing and taking a bite, — they didn't know that I blackmailed you out on a date. They've almost married us, spat poison on each other, and died of jealousy. I never would have thought that to confess, you don't need to break your nose, but kiss in front of everyone. Heck… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blurt it out. — Would you really be able to do this? He looked at me with some interest. —Easy," I chuckled and started on the second pie. — You're a much better kisser than Ron, what's more, even Krum wasn't standing next to him. Although I don't know now, but it was definitely better on the balcony. Or should I have drunk less? Or maybe it wasn't worth it at all… And I don't care! — As I understand it, this information is from the same place as about the cache and about the pies? — he wasn't even surprised by the nonsense I was talking about. — Well, yes, that's why I wanted to talk somewhere outside of school, - she nodded and stuffed the rest of the pie into her mouth, — the topic, let's just say, is very sensitive. "Then hold on tight,— Malfoy grabbed me by the waist. — Just not the family ring with his teleportation, — clutching his shirt on the back, I buried my nose in the curve of his shoulder, — okay, come on, I'm mentally ready to be rolled out in a thin layer on the living room rug. "It's getting more and more interesting," the guy chuckled. And the next moment, sparks of teleportation whirled around us, pulling us out of one place, splitting us into molecules and pulling us into a completely new one. It was something out of the ordinary. I've never understood why moving with the aristocrats was so difficult for me. No, simple transitions did not cause discomfort, but the use of stationary points or family artifacts-teleports – even better. So I tried to breathe through my mouth and only with the magic that came from Malfoy's bare neck. Gradually, my stomach calmed down, and I was gathered in a new place. Opening my eyes a little, I already thought to see the familiar interior of a small living room, where all the disputes over bills and the division of the annual budget usually took place. But no… It turned out that we were standing in the office of the head of the family. I was in it only once, when there was a search and an inquest. But even so, I clearly understood where we were. It was then that Malfoy's wife just proudly lifted her chin and said that we could at least burn everything here: She wasn't going to live in the house. But it's real: at night, the mansion burst into flames like a straw and burned to the ground. — Can you open the safe? — looking at me point-blank, the guy asked slowly. — Which one? I asked, raising an impudent eyebrow. — The one that stands in the bookcase, or the one that opens by pressing a button under the table? I'm sorry, for the third one I'll have to take away your ring and a couple of drops of blood. I think you won't make such sacrifices. —Commendable, Miss Granger," the cold voice caught me off guard, "I thought he was joking, but you really know better than ninety-nine and nine percent of the people in this world. And who told you this? — Do you want to swear by magic that Draco? — without retreating, I looked defiantly into the eyes of Malfoy Sr., but pressed my back against the younger one. "I don't remember that, but you keep insisting that even magic will confirm your words?" Strong arms closed around my waist, and I relaxed a little. — So I'm very interested to hear your version of events. "Except we have a date there and half the school is waiting with interest for this action to begin," I reminded them, "if we don't show up in their eyes, it will be difficult to explain where the hell we've been." Therefore, first a date, then a conversation. "Don't worry, Crabbe and Goyle are doing our roles perfectly," the blond man chuckled behind his back, "and tomorrow morning they won't even remember it." Don't tell me you didn't know that the Malfoys could manipulate the minds of their victims even without spells. "I've heard that Vale's voice enchants and makes you obey, but everyone thought it was just a joke and gossip, beautiful and centuries—old," I blurted out with a shrug. — There was also a theory that Snape invented liquid spells and shared a secret formula with his lover, but I believed in this even less than I believed in the admixture of dirty blood of magical creatures in your aristocratic ass. Besides, well, damn it, who's going to stand up to our professor? Of course, he wasn't exactly a goat, he wasn't even a goat at all, Dumbledore was to blame for everything, as usual, but that didn't make it any easier. To imagine him in his underpants is like our McGonagall in lace stockings. Even things that don't exist won't stand up… — I would argue, but I'm more interested in liquid spells than about your fantasies, — a quiet laugh rang out quite unexpectedly. —My God," I screamed, sticking to the shocked Malfoy with all my limbs, "you're not going to kill your godson, are you, he's the only one who understands potions?" Well, Harry next year, and then through your efforts and the stupidity of Slughorn, who did not notice that a complete zero in the subject suddenly began to show signs of genius. "Stop scaring the girl," the cold voice that could freeze half the world turned out to be unfamiliar to me. — Miss, you can get away from my son. —No, thanks, I'm not suicidal, he won't be cursed," I said quietly, "the Malfoys can only have one heir." "I didn't think you were such a coward,— the blond bastard whispered softly in my ear. "Cowardice and the instinct of self—preservation are two different things," I replied. "While everyone is wondering where and how you found out about the safe and everything else, no," Draco slowly unhooked my legs from his waist and helped me stand up straight, "and yes, they really are lovers, and mother doesn't mind. Sometimes there is a grain of truth in gossip. —Thanks, but that's the last thing I want to know," I snorted. — And yet, how did you find out about the safe? A soft cough brought us back to reality. "Would you believe me if I told you that I'm forty years old, I'm the Minister of Magic, and my best friend killed me after she slit her husband's throat at the Christmas table?" I looked up and resolutely looked around at the people sitting there. "That explained a lot then," Malfoy Senior nodded melancholically. — If someone like the Malfoys is being detained, then the Minister of Magic is required to be present during the search. And under pressure, you can sacrifice some secrets to keep the rest a secret. I can perfectly imagine that Draco surrendered the safe with the family ring in order to distract the attention of the detectives from the main vault. A perfectly thought-out combination. — Wait, you're not going to laugh and say that I'm crazy? I raised an eyebrow in surprise. — What about the suspicions? Blackmail, after all? No, well, banal distrust? Malfoys who take your word for it are a beast, worse than all the crap that Lovegood sees. —The magic of the clan reacted quite neutrally to your appearance," Lady Malfoy informed me, "and this happens only when the clan has accepted you as a part of itself. You could say it was a test. You are either my son's wife, or in some other way you can relate to the surname Malfoy, which became clear today. "So I was correct in my suspicions, and magic can't delay punishments for murders," I muttered to myself, biting my lip, "the lesser of two evils is chosen." The death of a father or child… And, even without being a wife, I had to protect the blood until my last breath, which, in fact, I did. But why didn't the Weasleys get a second punishment? Was I being bullied by someone else? — It seems to me that you have a fascinating story for us? Snape raised an eyebrow, looking like his old self. — First, sit down and do not flit around the room, and then try to organize the information and give it out as you see fit. No one is going to kill you. And it is unlikely that anything can be done against the will of the family. — I would still understand what happened to me, — scratching the top of my head, I still fit into the second chair, — forty years of believing in one thing and dying at the hands of a loved one is not so much fun. Besides, another damn prophecy and the fate of the world… I got sick of it, sometimes I even regret that the Lord died for the third time. Maybe then you wouldn't have to suffer. If he's still without a nose, tell him that the plan with the Ministry is shit. Harry's going to smash it anyway because of his crooked arm. You, Lord Malfoy, will be imprisoned. And you, Lady Malfoy, will lose your last cousin. Do you all need it? "Well," Snape laughed, "we've already started somewhere. But what kind of Lord and what does the Ministry have to do with it? — Like what? I stared at them in surprise. — The one who rose in May… Well, you were standing there yourself, Harry couldn't have been so wrong. Only the Malfoys have blond hair and a cane with a knob. —Darling,— Lady Malfoy drawled affectionately, "charm your henchmen better, let them impersonate you until midnight, and then just pretend that they disappeared on a date. The rumors that my son is crazy will be confirmed among the ladies tomorrow. Miss Granger, how about lunch and then dinner? — Can I have more blueberry pies? She looked at the woman sweetly. — Greengrass was always so jealous… Her hair is silk, her skin is shining, her eyes sparkle, everything is so perfect. Who knew that the secret was not in genetics, but in the Black family's signature pies. — I take it this also became known after my death? The blonde looked up. —Yeah," I didn't hide the truth. "Then you finish your work," she pointed at each of the men, "while we gossip about what shouldn't touch your ears." — What is it about? Draco snapped. — About childbirth, — the lady replied phlegmatically, — or do you want to hear it too? — No, thank you, — all three immediately disowned and ran away to work. "It works flawlessly," Madame smiled thinly. — Let's really gossip. —Yeah," I blinked like an owl, stunned, and followed the escort.