I will meet you there.
Cybele woke up just in time to grab a late lunch on Saturday. She pointedly ignored her Gryffindor friends and pretended to go back to the East Tower before taking a shortcut to the Quidditch Pitch.
The meeting to plan a visit to Phil had been postponed for over two months, due to a new fanatic approach to Quidditch training which had been adopted by the Gryffindor captain. Then frightening attacks had taken place and they drove the idea out of their minds until they decided they had to get their minds off of purebloods and Slytherin heirs.
Those were subjects that Cybele and Draco had been painfully avoiding for the past two months. Cybele was trying to ignore Draco’s position on the matter but it was tricky to pretend not to overhear him in the corridors. She knew she would have to confront him sooner or later, and that the confrontation may well be their last conversation. She didn’t want to lose Draco, but she loathed what she was hearing him say, and she couldn’t take the hostility around her on the seldom occasions when they had hung out together.
The Ravenclaws had kindly tried to ignore the fact that she was back on speaking terms with Malfoy, but they all too often abruptly stopped speaking when she appeared in the common-room. Cybele had spent a gloomy autumn with Caroline or the Gryffindor boys, who more often than not were telling her off for still speaking with the Slytherin boy.
Trying to push these sad thoughts aside, she walked around the castle and back to the greenhouses. The weather was clear, but crisp and cold in the early November. The boys were already there.
It was quite a nice, picturesque spot, behind the ancient walls of brass and glass of the green houses, in an under kept part of the Hogwarts grounds. It was also a good place to have a private conversation.
She leaned against the wall beside Fred, Lee and George, and soon Lee brought the subject.
‘So, what’s with your grand plan to visit Phil?’
‘I don’t know if you can call it a plan,’ George started.
‘Yeah, it’s more like a general idea, you know,’ Fred continued.
‘Say, Phil is in the forest.’
‘And we would like to visit him.’
‘That’s the plan!’ George concluded happily.
‘We thought you guys would like us to leave the details to be discussed among the four of us,’ Fred explained.
‘You don’t have a plan,’ Cybele stated.
‘Well, shall we make one?’ offered Fred.
‘I don’t know,’ Cybele said. ‘Hagrid seemed to consider it was really dangerous, and in Hagrid’s scale of dangerousness, I would say that means lethal.’
‘Besides, we know Phil’s okay,’ added Lee, ‘and we knew the price to pay was to have him “ her “ back to the wild.’
The twins did not answer immediately and they stayed for a while in companionable silence in the warming sun.
Before any of them spoke again, they started hearing other voices coming from the corner of the green house. Students were coming this way, talking without fear to be overheard in the abandoned part of the grounds.
‘Next time the Heir attacks,’ they heard, ‘the Mudblood will die.’
The Gryffindors and Cybele looked at each other with interest.
‘Yeah, I hope,’ came another voice, still closer. ‘I hope it’s Granger!’
Fred jumped up and wordlessly gestured to the others to follow him. They all were eager to hear more, so the four of them hid behind bushes right before two Slytherin boys appeared at the corner of the old green house.
A tall, thin boy was walking with composure, his hands in his pocket. Beside him, a shorter Draco Malfoy was beating bushes violently with a twig.
‘I’m not sure,’ the tall boy answered. ‘I think it does you good not to be the best student around anymore. Gives me a break, anyway.’
‘Your parents weren’t so happy to have me beating you in all the assignments when we were in their school. Well, you can imagine how my parents appreciate me being beaten in all Hogwarts exams by a Mudblood!’ Malfoy answered angrily.
‘Fine, let’s pray the Heir gets the know-it-all next,’ Zabini answered lazily.
‘Pity Harry Potter is a pureblood!’ Malfoy spat.
‘Haha, I can’t believe some people are twisted enough to think he is the Heir of Slytherin!’
‘I don’t understand how he can be Parseltongue! I wish I could command snakes!’
They eventually sat down in the very place Cybele and the Gryffindors had vacated for them.
‘You’re not afraid for you girlfriend?’ asked Zabini after a while, in an insinuating voice.
‘What girlfriend?’ Malfoy asked defensively.
‘Are you sure she’s a pureblood?’ Zabini continued.
‘Mind saying who you’re talking about?’
‘Have it your way: the Ravenclaw girl. She told you she was a pureblood, then,’ Zabini stated with a poker face.
Malfoy didn’t answer. Behind the bushes, the four friends had frozen. Cybele was holding her breath.
‘What’s your point?’ Draco spat eventually.
‘I’m asking you for your own good, Malfoy, so listen well; Marcus Flint-’
‘What’s with him, now?’ Draco asked, unable to contain his nerves.
‘He was fed up to see the little Ravenclaw girl trailing behind you every other Quidditch practice. He checked her blood status.’
Draco froze. He had blissfully ignored this matter, just the way he conveniently put aside all political and genealogical topics when he enjoyed his unique, innocent time with Cybele. The last thing he needed was the Slytherins throwing it in his face so he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
He would lose her.
He didn’t want to hear what Zabini had to say, he wanted to run away, find Cybele and fly with her to a place where all this didn’t exist.
‘Do you know what he found out?’ Zabini teased.
In a minute now, he would say it. It would be over. He would never see Cybele anymore. And just when he realized that, Draco felt that he could not. He could not go on without this strange part of his life, without his contradictory friend who always asked questions he didn’t want to answer, who reminded him that not everybody who respected and liked him had to have the same ideas, the sweet girl who never flew on a broom without him.
For a wild moment, he imagined himself knocking Zabini out and running back to the castle.
Zabini looked highly amused now, seeing the concern, almost the panic on his fellow’s face.
‘What?’ Draco eventually exploded. ‘Just split it out, will you?’
‘Wow, touchy are we? Nothing.’
‘What?’
‘You’re so thick, aren’t you? I’m telling you he found nothing. The name Philius isn’t the name of any wizarding family.’
‘Cybele’s from Lebanon,’ Malfoy defended.
‘You won’t hear it, huh? He checked worldwide; it’s easy to do. To me, she’s Muggle-born, case closed. Sorry to be the one to break it out to you, but better me than Flint, right? You’re gonna be teased forever,’ he added with relish.
Draco looked blank.
‘It may not be her name,’ he eventually said.
‘Wow, that’s far-fetched! Forget it, man, you’ll find another girl.’
‘No, you don’t understand, there are confidential things about this girl. I’m not supposed to repeat this, but apparently Hogwarts doesn’t know her family. She’s an amnesiac.’
‘She told you that?’
Draco blushed.
‘Not exactly, but I know that for sure. I think she’s a pureblood.’
This conversation was wrong. Draco didn’t want to think about Cybele’s status or family, it all felt wrong. For some reason he didn’t feel that Cybele belonged with these topics, these issues didn’t apply to her.
‘Well, good luck feeding that to Flint!’ Zabini concluded. ‘I’m going back to the castle, you coming?’ he asked Malfoy.
Cybele stood up and came in view.
‘No, I’ll walk him up to the castle,’ she said simply.
Draco blanched as he stood up. Zabini chuckled merrily and went away. Fred, George and Lee crept behind the bushes out of view and headed back to the castle too.
‘How did you know about my family?’ Cybele asked as soon as they were alone.
‘Severus told me that, when I asked about…’ He didn’t want to say it. What he had so badly wanted to know after meeting Cybele was the last thing he wanted to talk about now.
‘Professor Snape!’ exclaimed Cybele. ‘He told you that?’ she asked incredulously.
‘He also told me you were a great witch and you didn’t care about these things,’ added Draco quickly, trying to make amends for his godfather.
Cybele felt dizzy. If she had been shocked by the conversation between Draco and his friend, the hate in Draco’s speech, the definitive tone in which her “status” was discussed, it was nothing compared to Snape’s betrayal. She had always understood him so perfectly, she trusted him. And now not only he had never resumed their meetings, but he had been babbling about her amnesia!
‘He made me swear not to repeat it to anyone,’ Draco was faithfully going on. ‘He would reduce me to pulp if he knew I told Zabini.’
‘I’ll make sure he does,’ Cybele threatened icily. She would deal with the problem at hand “ Draco “ she decided, before trying to understand Professor Snape’s behaviour.
Draco actually looked frightened for a second. He soon composed his face.
‘So, you wouldn’t be my friend if you knew my parents were Muggles, right?’ she asked next.
‘Cybele, don’t be ridiculous,’ Draco answered eagerly. ‘Of course you aren’t a mud-Muggleborn! You are so at ease with magic, you-’
‘That’s neither here nor there,’ Cybele interrupted. ‘I don’t want to be friends with you if you would abandon me if we discovered I was Muggleborn!’
‘We agreed last year that we wouldn’t talk about this,’ Draco said.
‘Yes, last year, Draco. We also agreed at the beginning of this year that I wouldn’t let you get away with all your nonsense!’ she spat angrily.
Draco opened his mouth and then closed it.
‘Honestly, what do I do with a friend who would run away from me if my family doesn’t suit him?’ Cybele went on. ‘What do I do with a friend who wishes a fellow Hogwarts student would die?’
‘That’s personal, you don’t know the girl,’ Draco argued.
‘I know my friends dote upon her,’ said Cybele simply. ‘Anyway, that’s not all. You actually support whoever is attacking students! How can you?’
‘I’ve tried to explain you last year, Cybele, but you would only listen to what your Gryffindor friends say! There are students in this school which don’t deserve to be here; if they aren’t stopped by the institution, if they don’t leave by their own accord, then I can only agree with the use of force.’
‘Students like Caroline, right? You would be okay with her dying, too? She’s my friend!’
‘Look, Cybele, I’m not saying she’s not sweet with you and all; she just shouldn’t be here!’
‘If not then how do you explain she has high grades and all the teachers are happy with her?’
‘I don’t want to know how all these Mudbloods snake their way around. It just proves we should get rid of them before they take over!’
Cybele sighted. The conversation was going nowhere. There was no way she would see how Caroline or the Hermione girl didn’t belong. Draco was brainwashed. Cybele felt sad and tired.
‘I don’t think I can do this,’ she eventually said softly. ‘I know we’ve been friends for a while, but …’ she couldn’t finish.
Draco looked panicked.
‘I’m not saying I don’t want to be your friend anymore,’ she said, her own words making her remember once again of Eslis’ strange warning, ‘but there is no point for us to see each other if these crazy ideas are so important to you,’ she managed to say.
‘But why don’t you just admit that you don’t know your family and then nobody will ever know about your blood status and we can still be friends!’ Draco offered.
That’s when Cybele lost it.
‘You really don’t understand a thing, do you?’ she yelled. ‘I don’t want a friend who needs to know who my parents were to accept me and stand up for me! I don’t want a friend who’s too brainwashed to think for himself and who talks about violent and murderous things! And you are this friend!’
‘You’re the brainwashed one,’ Draco yelled back, ‘you can’t see the truth because you’ve been blinded by these filthy friends of your. And you never listen to me,’ he added childishly.
‘I think we are done here.’ Cybele simply turned her back on him and made to leave. As she did, she felt all her limbs and her insides fill with a boiling acid poison. She paused.
‘Can’t you see I don’t care?’ came Draco’s voice, almost in a whisper.
‘What?’ Cybele turned back, and as she did, the burning sensation disappeared at once.
Draco came right in front of her and said to her face.
‘I don’t care about all this-’ he hesitated a split second ‘-when it comes to you. I don’t care what you are; it’s different with you.’
Cybele felt hopeful and desperate at once. But she couldn’t walk away anymore. Draco put a hand on her shoulder.
‘Draco.’ She let her head lean to his so their foreheads were touching. ‘You are wrong. You are so wrong,’ she said softly.
Draco bit his lip but didn’t answer. They went back slowly to the castle in silence and separated without a word, once again with a sad look. They had preserved the last, tiniest, fragile friendship link between them, both hoping to find each other again one day when the other one will have at last opened their eye.