Draco Malfoy and the Half-Blood Btch; Chapter Fifteen-Ghosts of the Past

Ack, it has been forever since I've updated! And I really, really am sorry guys, but school and work and friends have kept me fully occupied. I've actually been very slowly working on this chapter, which is the longest yet with a whopping eight pages. I'm really sorry, and I promise the next chapter will be up sooner. Because I spent several weeks writing this one, I really, really like the way it turned out-it may be my favorite so far. Enjoy and as always please rate and message!
Onward!
"Miss? Miss must get up now. Mistress says time for breakfast, Miss." A shrill voice pierced Belle's ears and her curtains were thrown open to let in a brilliant white light from the freshly-fallen snow.
"Ughhh." Belle groaned, pulling her duvet over her head. She poked an eye out and glanced at the house elf straightening up her room, and then caught sight of her clock. "Dottie," Belle said, settling back down on her pillows, "it's only eight. Breakfast is never till nine."
"Dottie thought Miss would like to open her Christmas presents before breakfast." The young elf gestured to a small pile that rested at Belle's feet. Belle felt her eyes go wide,
"I've-I've got presents?" Belle asked, not waiting for an answer as she crawled over to the array of brightly wrapped boxes and began to examine them. "I didn't get anyone anything." She remarked, confusion clouding her face. "I haven't gotten a gift since I was twelve years old."
"Dottie will come and get Miss for breakfast at five till nine then." Dottie curtseyed and left Belle to her gifts. Her gifts. Treating it more like an explosive than a present, Belle took the nearest box wrapped in shimmery pink paper. The card read, Lots of lurve from Padma! Come back soon! XOXO.
Belle didn't know whether to be ecstatic or repulsed. She slid her fingers delicately between the folds of the paper and lifted the lid from the box inside. A beautiful transparent green bottle shaped like an apple stopped with a golden stem lay within the white silk; the liquid inside it swirled mysteriously. Original Sin was scrawled elegantly in gold cursive on its top, and the card inside the box explained that this perfume was enchanted to suit the wearer's need; it would smell softly for a romantic evening, fresh for a day of work or study, and so on, and yet it would always be appealing to the wearer.
Belle grinned and spritzed some on her neck, and inhaled a calming vanilla scent. Now genuinely eager, she ripped through the rest of her presents in only a matter of minutes. Lisa had given her a little crystal bird that really flew and could learn to sing, Sally-Anne a new Ravenclaw scarf and gloves, and even Mandy had bothered to send a tube of perfect-match lipgloss ("Charmed for your skin!" it said) from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes line of Wonder Witch products.
Only one box remained; it was wrapped in classy dark green paper and tied with a silver silk bow. Belle felt an unexplained bubble rise in her chest and her lips tug into a smile; she had a feeling she knew who this was from. There was no card, so Belle slipped the bow off and tore at the paper, more excited than she had been for any of the other gifts. Finally she opened the box and gasped to see-a blanket?

A blanket Malfoy? REALLY?! Not exactly woo-worthy...
"Why the hell would Malfoy give me a blanket?" Belle muttered to herself. It was a beautiful work, there was no question of that; it was emerald green, and a silver thread wove across the seams. A silver crest bearing an ornate 'M' entwined with a serpent was embossed on the cashmere. As she shook it out to get a better look at it, Belle noticed a small card fall from the folds.
To Belle,
It is a Malfoy custom to give a gift bearing our crest to our guests. Please take this as a sign of my approval.
Happy Christmas,
Narcissa Malfoy.
Belle felt her heart sink slightly. This was only another way for Mrs. Malfoy to rub her pure-blood status and wealth in Belle's face. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, deciding she had better make herself presentable for what was sure to be an awkward Christmas morning. Once she had dressed in a simple cream sweater and nice jeans, Belle scooped up her gifts and set them on her bedside table. Her eyes fell on Mrs. Malfoy's card again, and she felt a wave of bitterness towards the woman. She scanned the script briefly once more, and her eyes narrowed.
"As if I need your approval." She scoffed, scrunching the card mercilessly into a wad and chucking it in her bin.
"Well, considering we are engaged," a haughty drawl issued from Belle's doorway, "I'd say my mother's approval is somewhat essential." Belle rolled her eyes at Malfoy, not bothering to face him.
"Oh, so I actually get a real explanation as to why I'm now being called 'Miss Malfoy' by the aristocratic pure-blooded snobs of England?" She sneered, snatching her birch wand from her bedside table.
"Not with that attitude you don't." Malfoy replied, starting to turn away.
"WAIT!" Belle shouted before she could stop herself. She felt heat stain her cheeks as he returned with a smirk.
"Ah, so we are curious then?" Belle muttered several curses under her breath, which Malfoy seemed to decide to take a deaf ear to. "Well, traditionally in pure-blood households, by the time the heir has taken control over the household, he is expected to have already married so his lineage is ensured. Typically, the heir doesn't gain rule until he comes of age, but seeing as Father is...rather busy at the moment, I've been given the rights a bit early." Malfoy's usual swagger seemed shaken for a moment; however he quickly resumed his arrogant stature. "But as it's only temporary, Mother saw it fit to act as though we were merely engaged."

Click
Belle searched Malfoy's face suspiciously for several moments after he'd finished. There was something he wasn't telling her, and considering what had happened the last time she had just let one of his secrets go, she wasn't about to let him off the hook. "Temporary? If your father's only away on business, why bother with giving you the rights to the house?"
Malfoy glanced at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Because," he exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"Malfoy," Belle said, stepping closer to him, "the last time I didn't get the truth out of you, a girl almost died." Her voice was a low whisper now, and her eyes blazed with conviction. "If you think I'm just going to walk away from this, you must be seriously deranged."
"Merlin, Belle what the hell do you want me to say?" Malfoy slumped against the wall and rubbed his forehead. "I can't tell you, alright?"
"No, it's not alright." She said fiercely, as the blizzard outside beat against the windows savagely. "What will it cost you to be honest with me?" Her intense glare bore into him, penetrating his defenses, despite his efforts to remain indifferent.
"Well seeing as you're the one determined to loathe each and every person you encounter," Malfoy spat, choosing to display malevolence over vulnerability, "I don't see why you give a sh*t anyways." His voice was thick and strained, but his words had caused Belle to falter. She took a shuddering breath before she allowed herself to continue,
"Fine. Lock yourself away. You're right-I absolutely despise the human race. The only thing humans can be consistent in is hurting those who care for them most." Belle's words caught slightly; she felt a putrid, acidic fire begin to climb her throat, and knew he had to leave. His presence alone, it seemed, was enough to drive all sensibility from her mind. She quivered again, at the thought of allowing another to wield such control over her emotions.
The young witch and wizard stood, their wands drawn and eyes locked, both breathing heavily, neither about to surrender. Finally, Malfoy broke the stare, and left her alone without another word.
Once he had gone, Belle slammed the door behind him and ran to her bed, picked up one of the pillows, and screamed horribly into it. The hail beat against her balcony, challenging her rage. She threw the door open and stepped onto the small landing, feeling as though she may burst. The freezing ice stung her face relentlessly, and the winds tried to beat her back indoors, into submission.
"STOP IT!" She screamed at the wailing pearl grey clouds, but a clap of thunder only mocked her cries. "NO, STOP IT! STOP IT, NOW!" Belle was forced to her knees, and then the dreaded burning sensation began to rip at her eyelids, torturing her as it attempted to leak through her willpower. She clutched her head as her vision began to spin, her temples throbbing with unshed agony. Her world was a dizzy of biting cold and hurt her heart ached to release but her mind could not comprehend.

Click
Somewhere far off, or so it seemed to Belle, a door flew open and a figure shouted for her. Belle aimed her wand into the abyss of swirling grey and flashes of light streaked towards the unknown attacker, but to no avail. It was getting closer, and Belle's mind was growing darker...
A wonderful light filled the room and Belle's hands, no longer cold but comfortably warm felt a silky, embroidered material that stirred a memory. She knew this dress, and as she listened, she knew the sounds as well; several maids bustled about, and an enchanted piano delicately played a tune so enchantingly frivolous it sounded as though fairies themselves had written it. Belle's eyes opened, and she found herself sitting in a lavish bedroom-her bedroom. Her real room, the one she had called her own for the first twelve years of her life.
She sat on a delicate velvet-covered stool, her posture perfect and her face arranged in a contented smile. Eliza, her favorite servant, stood behind Belle, and was twisting locks of Belle's glossy locks around her wand to morph her waves into soft curls around her head. Belle sat patiently, smoothing out her ornate light blue gown.
"Now, aren't you simply breathtaking, Belle?" Eliza breathed, rotating Belle gently on the stool so she faced the vanity mirror. The twelve year old girl whose face beamed back at her was indeed the picture of innocent beauty; her eyes were alive with joy, and her skin seemed to radiate happiness from her golden tiara atop her curls down to her painted toes.
"Oh Eliza, you really are magical!" Belle squealed, throwing her arms around the portly maid. Eliza merely chuckled at the glowing child,
"Thank you, dear. You know, twelve is a very important age for a young lady. Before long, wizards will be lined up out the door to court you!" Eliza teased the young girl.
"Tut tut Eliza, I have yet to meet a male who is any more than a swine wielding a wand!" Belle replied in a regal tone, before collapsing onto her bed in giggles. Eliza pulled her up and cupped Belle's face in her hand, her eyes shining.
"Alright now, pet, any more silliness and you'll be late for your own birthday party!" Eliza shooed Belle out the door and wished her luck before joining the other hired staff in the kitchens.
Gracefully Belle came to the top of the grand navy-carpeted staircase, and she paused for a moment, listening to the babble of her guests. She took a deep breath, and then began to descend towards the crowd, and immediately the beautifully dressed witches and wizards hushed and watched her for a moment in awe before erupting into applause. Her mother and father, seated at the raised table, had tears in their eyes as Belle came to the end of the stairs and curtseyed for her guests.

(For the slightly dim among you; yes, Belle is sort of re-living the night of her 12th birthday)
The grand ballroom had never been so magnificent, with sapphire accents and the gold sparkle of fairy dust floating down from the enchanted chandelier over head. Belle took her place between her mother and father and beamed at her assembly. All of her best friends were there, and her relatives. Her father stood, his robes of deep royal blue dancing with his eyes-the eyes that matched Belle's so perfectly.
"Thank you all," his voice boomed across the hall, "for joining us on this most wonderful occasion. My darling Belle, you are truly the greatest gift that any here tonight could ask for, and though material items cannot nearly show how deeply your mother and I love you," he stopped for a moment, and Belle's mother, so elegant in her golden dress with her deep chestnut curls, squeezed Belle's hand, "we thought we would give it a shot anyways, and let you open our present to you first." The crowd burst into laughter and applause, and Belle's dark eyelashes fluttered excitedly as her father raised his dark wand and a handsome new broomstick rose from the back of the room.
"Daddy, it's a Firebolt!" Belle breathed, clapping her hands over her mouth. "How-I thought-oh thank you so much!" She threw her arms around her father, and then moved to her mother, feeling as though she could fly even without the broom. Belle was alight with love for her parents and friends, and the happiness coursed through her very soul.
An unexpected bang, and Belle's perfect awe was disturbed as the double doors were thrown open and a half dozen dark-cloaked figures in horrible masks shot jets of green light from their wands. As the first guests hit the floor, their expressions of terror frozen forever on their lifeless faces, pandemonium took hold. The children, void of wands, hid behind adults who crumbled before the masked intruders before they had even laid hands on their own. Screams rebounded across the walls with spells, and Belle felt a hand force her below the table. Her mother, always so gentle and wise, was holding her down as her father aimed spell after spell at the attackers, bringing several of them down, but not quickly enough.
"Belle darling, you must run! Take the secret passage under this table, and do not come back! Do not stop running until you've made it somewhere far, far away. Do you understand?" Belle nodded, her eyes wide, fear paralyzing her. Her mother held Belle to her chest one last time, and whispered in her ear, "never forget we love you, darling. If you remember our love, no matter what, we'll always be with you." Her mother shoved Belle under the table and stood, battling alongside her husband, though now it was for their lives alone; all others lie dead on the marble floor.
Belle threw the hatch to the passage open, but in a moment all her senses rushed back to her and she realized her parents could not win; they were fighting only to give her more time to escape.
"NO!" She screamed, struggling to help her parents, "I WON'T LET YOU DIE FOR ME!" Adrenaline masked the crippling pain that was taking hold of her. Just before Belle could emerge from beneath her cover, however, a final streak of green pelted towards her parents and they both fell, their hands clasped and their faces filled with courage and love.

Love. Conquers. All.
Belle knew what happened next-her terrifying sprint through the passage and narrow escape on her Firebolt, and then hovering above her burning home, forging a hatred of all people. But these scenes did not come; instead the hall faded from her vision, and now Belle sat on the edge of an unidentifiable abyss, her parents lying before her. All around her was white, and as she rushed to her parents' sides, she felt a jolt of hope shoot through her heart as she realized they were breathing.
"Buthow?" She gasped, kneeling beside them. Their eyelids fluttered open, and Belle felt tears of joy and disbelief cascade down her face. "Mother! Daddy! You're alive!" She whispered, barely daring to believe it was true.
"No darling." Her mother said gently, her dark brown eyes full of pain. "No, we're dying, Belle." Belle felt her heart wither, and a lump in her throat caught horribly.
"Belle," her father spoke sadly, "we must leave you now. This is for your sake."
"NO!" Belle's scream never left her throat as the unbearable agony streamed down her face. The happiness that only moments ago had been her every fiber had left her; Belle was hollow with pain. She was suddenly aware that she was no longer a princess, but had changed back into her sixteen year-old self. "No," she repeated, grief suffocating her words and compressing her chest, "I've already lost you once, I can't do it again! Please, please don't leave me!"
***
Draco's POV
Draco stormed out into the hallway and slammed his fist into the wall, his fury leaving a dent in the white wood. I don't see why the f*ck she cares, Draco thought, pacing in front of Belle's door, and what good would it do to tell her anyways? She'd only turn against me, like everyone else in this goddamn f*cking universe. Like it's somehow my fault! Like I really want my father to be a psychopathic puppet to that f*cking b*stard. Draco shook his head, trying to rid himself of his frantic, indignant thoughts.
Suddenly, Draco heard a loud bang, and screams from Belle's room. "What the bloody hell has she gotten herself into now?!" Draco shouted, throwing open the door. The door to the balcony was wide open and the unforgiving snow storm swept into the room, stirring loose objects. Another shout came from the balcony, and Draco ran out onto it. He was barely able to see through the blizzard, but he made out a dark form several feet away.

Draco to the rescue! Duh duh duh-duh!
"Belle? Belle is that you?" He called, his wand drawn as he approached the person. Out of the swell of grey came a shot of red light, and then another. Draco fell to the ground, the spells barely missing him. "What the hell was that for?!" He shouted angrily, standing up slowly in case of unseen curses flying his way. Feeling his way towards her with the balcony railing, Draco finally found Belle crumpled on the ground and shivering uncontrollably; she wasn't conscious, but it almost sounded like she was laughing. He scooped her up and fought his way back inside, and all the while she was murmuring things almost joyously.
Once back in her room, Draco carefully laid Belle on her bed before forcing the door shut. Belle was still twitching, but her face was now contorted with anguish. Her murmurs became strangled and desperate, as though she were struggling against some horrible demons. Tears began to flow freely from her eyes, and though her lids were closed, she sat up and turned her head towards him.
"Please, please don't leave me." She begged, clutching her arms around her waist and rocking herself back and forth. "I just don't understand!" Belle wailed, her voice high and panicked.
"What don't you understand?" Draco asked, looking around the room frantically, trying to figure out who she was speaking to.
"Just tell me why! Why?!" She screamed at him, her eyes still shut. "Why did you do it?! We could have all gotten away!"
"No," Draco said, trying to keep her calm, "no, we couldn't have. I had to do it." He wasn't sure where his words were coming from, but his intuition told him to keep talking. "You're better off this way."
"But I still need you! I'm not strong enough! I hate what I've become, always afraid and never able to show how I feel!" She sobbed, grabbing hold of his waist.
"No, you are strong enough." He said, stroking her hair tentatively. "You are, you...you just have to remember who you really are. You're brave, and honest, and smart, and...and caring. You just have to remember."
"I'm afraid." She cried in a small voice, burying her face into his shirt. "I miss you so much, and I'm so lost without you." Tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids and dripped down her rosy cheeks.
"You can do it," Draco said, "I know you can. It's going to be alright. It's all going to be alright, in the end." Belle inhaled deeply and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.
"I'll miss you both so much." She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, and though the skin her lips had grazed burned wonderfully and his heart felt like it could leap from his chest, he simply held her a moment longer before slowly laying her down on her bed and leaving her to her dreams.

Results please!
Wow. Can you say emotionally draining? I had a really hard time writing this one, because I've been fortunate enough to never have lost anyone close to me. I wanted to show a great contrast in Belle's personality, and I hope I was able to portray the unconditional, never-ending love that she had with her parents. I also wanted to show that Belle's bitter outlook is due to the pain she refuses to acknowledge, and her overwhelming guilt she feels for her parents dying for her sake. So, maybe now that's she's grieved, Belle will go back to being the innocent princess she once was. Maybe not. You never know...
Thanks so much for reading guys, check back soon for updates!