Chapter 7: Courting Failure
The mansion's pathways felt oppressive in their opulence and prideful decoration. I'd never felt so sick of a place in my life. Who'd want to live here?
It was as if an invisible hand guided my steps on my journey to the hidden chambers of Mr. Malfoy. I sensed the dark magic from far away, but it wasn't a kaleidoscope of hues. Rather, it was a blob of inky blackness, just out of reach. I felt it, and it wasn't pleasant even to my crime-blackened soul. I pulled with all my magic, and the floor broke loose.
Whatever defensive magic had been holding it together collapsed. Something unseen touched me. Whether it was the evil soul of Voldemort or Mr. Malfoy's other paraphernalia, I didn't know. What I noticed, though, was the quickly spreading feeling of uneasiness as I walked forward.
It was just there, the diary. I felt sure of it, but then I tripped.
There was a sharp sound, like a string snapping. A pain assaulted my legs. Turning backwards, I noted they were ash on the floor now. Next, I tried to mumble the automatic scream in my throat. I failed.
By now there were footsteps in the hall, and they were approaching the dark hole I laid in. As I suspected, it was Mrs. Malfoy and company who came to see me. She seemed genuine in her shock, but her companions were anything but friendly. All I saw were the hateful eyes of some likely death eater as they inspected my curved ears, the scornful tone of their words.
"Half-breed scum. Avada Kedavra."
I couldn't bring myself to move aside. It hurt too much. The green light hit me, and I knew no more.
Seconds later, I woke up back in my cot inside the prison. It was still early morning, close to the time I went to sleep.
"What a fucking dream."
I rose, walked to the toilet, took a leak, and washed my face. The face staring back at me felt alien now.
For what felt like an hour, I stared at myself in the mirror. What on earth was that dream? Some alternate reality just for my pleasure? As I laid back on the cot, the thoughts of this fantastic world occupied my time awake.
Before the artificial rays of sunshine came from the walls, I fell asleep again.
###
It wasn't a gentle light rising out of the floor, but the crack under a door. I started up from the hard cupboard floor. My head hit the shelf again, and I cursed its placement. Was I back at the beginning?
"Dobby!"
When I cracked open the door, I came face to face with Mr. Arrogance Jr. A wicked grin almost split my face, but I forced it down. This time I'd be more subtle.
"Yes master, Dobby, be here. What does master need?"
He looked a bit weirded out. It was likely because of my perfect imitation of puppy dog eyes, an unlikely sight on the face of Dobby.
"Go get me some Bertie Bott's. Now."
"Yes, master."
He turned around, walking away, and while doing that, he missed my silent and mad cackle. Second chances were my thing, it seemed.
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