September 2nd, 1991
Everyone was settled in for dinner, enjoying chatter in the Great Hall. The first day of term went well. Fortunately, Slytherins started with Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. Though DADA courses were stunted by Quirrell’s stuttering due to the parasite leeching off his mind, they were generally interesting. Charms, of course, was rudimentary but still fun. Herbology was the only non-repetitive course -as the knowledge of how to take care of the plants does not actually harvest said plants for you.
Rather than meeting the others for dinner, I went back to the dorm and changed into sport pants and a light jumper. After the day before, spending half a day cooped up in a train compartment and the other half figuring out the best way to apply a sticking charm, I needed a release. My muscles were practically atrophied. I had kept a bit of fruit in my room, so I wouldn’t have to worry about dinner itself.
I pulled my white blonde hair up and out of my face as I climbed the twentieth staircase of the day. I was on my way to the edge of the courtyard that lined up with an offshoot of the Black Lake when I rounded a corner and tumbled into someone.
I had steadied myself by grabbing the front of their robe, but they didn’t steady their self at all. And so I wound up tumbling to the ground with them. The boy was already apologizing, but with his stutter and nerves he wasn’t getting it across very well. And I was too busy to listen anyway, trying to detangle myself. Once I was up on one knee getting ready to rise, I felt a darkness snake into me.
“Longbottom. Calm down, it’s fine.”
And even if it was not fine, I would not be sitting here discussing it with him.
He hadn’t even dropped by on the train to say hello, or acknowledged me in the Great Hall last night. Which is fine. I’m a Malfoy, after all. And Neville Longbottom has good reason to avoid a Malfoy. Maybe he could tell I am anything but the candy-type he’d find in a Hufflepuff. Or the just-type in Gryffindor. Maybe he could tell I was a snake simply by my personality and he deemed that distasteful.
But probably, Longbottom just got scared by my neutral face and droll voice. So, I won’t hold it against him much. He hasn’t found his voice yet. We are still in first year.
“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” He finally choked out. “I got lost headed to dinner and…”
I finished rising, brushed off my pants, righted my jumper, and tightened my ponytail.
“I said it’s fine. I’m not hurt.” I didn’t reach out to help him up, nor did I ask if he was fine. Longbottom, despite how I felt about him in elsewhere and the respect I have for his future self, is not someone I can worry about. He is out of bounds. “Good luck, ask a portrait next time. Most are happy to help a Gryff.”
I was already walking away when Longbottom had finished getting himself up and trotted up behind me, “Are you headed there now?”
I didn’t bother to look back as I sighed, gesturing to my sport outfit, “No, I’m not. I’m headed to the shore.”
“Oh,” I could hear the disappointment echo in the corridor. I could still here his footsteps barely behind my own.
“That means I’m not going to dinner.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He sounded defeated.
“Longbottom?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you following me?”
He paused for a beat before answering, “I haven’t seen the shore yet.”
I froze abruptly, turning on my heel to look at Longbottom. He was still in his class robes, his round cheeks were red with exertion from traveling the halls and he did not look like he particularly wanted to go to the shore.
“I’m not going there just to hang out. I’ll be running -a few miles at least, yeah?”
Longbottom looked down at himself and nodded, “Yeah? I bet it’s quiet by the shore.”
Choking back the rest of my words I just shook my head and continued on.
-
It’s a bit misleading calling where I brought Longbottom to a shore. Really, it’s a river that offshoots from Black Lack and separates the main buildings from the Forbidden Forest and the Quidditch pitch. There are areas that are accessible by foot but most of it is a dozen foot drop into the water. About a mile in each direction is the shore of the actual lake so it’s a perfect track.
The packed earth around the edge is just right for running on. Longbottom had quietly trailed behind me, looking at and likely trying to memorize the path here. I maintained the quiet as I began stretching, first my arms and shoulders then moving on to my legs. With a dismissive wave, I didn’t even bother to look back as I took off at a jog.
“See you around,” Longbottom practically chirped when he spoke and I felt a harsh laugh leave me as I ran.
It didn’t escape me that Longbottom had only decided to follow me when no one was around. Whether it was intentional or not, it didn’t matter. That painted a picture all its own.
I dug my heels in, straightened my back, and let my thoughts focus on the movement. Everything else can wait. Thoughts of elsewhere, of who my classmates will become, of who I need to befriend and who to avoid, charms I need to practice, potions I need to learn, ways to earn points. They can wait. I focused on the proper way to run, keeping my posture relaxed and my movement stable. I didn’t even notice when Longbottom slipped away thirty minutes in.
I kept my eyes ahead, taking in the sight of the approaching shore of the lake. The sun was still several hours from setting but it hung below the tree line. As I moved I felt the weight of my hair swaying at the center of my back and the slow building burn of my muscles.
I hadn’t gone for a run in four days. The social, packing, travel, unpacking, and classes kept me away. It was a torture all it’s own. The feeling of a run gives me a sense of elation afterwards -a feeling I’m unable to get elsewhere. I feel affection, and love, and contentment in flashes when I’m with my family, but nothing as lasting as running. Every movement improves my mood, and I could run for hours. And for every moment I spend running I am provided a moment where I can forget the world around me.
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It doesn’t just block me from thinking. It lets me pretend that I can forget.
I started running soon after ‘learning’ to walk, it was how I coped in elsewhere and I figured it would work just as well here. And it took ages before I was able to run enough to actually feel the effects of it. After turning eleven, I had gotten a max run time of six hours of full effort. Though usually I only allowed myself to run a total of three hours a day -and never all at once. But it was first day of class, and I was stuck away from my family. So I ran.
As sweat started beading, I ran. As I turned on my heel in the sand, I ran. As I passed the spot I’d left Longbottom, I ran. As I was forced to control my breathing, I ran. As the sun lowered and the light began to dim, I ran.
It wasn’t until I saw an oversized man walking toward the forbidden forest that I figured dinner was finished and I needed to get back to the dorms. I slowed and stretched out my arms, then legs, then shoulders. Once I had cooled down, I wiped the sweat from my brow and turned towards the castle. In that time, Hagrid had gotten halfway to the forest -which was incidentally where I had finished my run.
“Aye, little miss, what are yeh doin’ outta the castle this late?” Hagrid had a warm voice, and he spoke slow but not in the way my father would when making a point.
“I’m headed inside now, I was just out for a run.” I ran my hand over my head, flattening any stray hairs that had come loose. My posh accent was in stark contrast to Hagrid’s, but it was a comfort. The man probably disliked me on the basis of being a Malfoy and a Slytherin. Being both was armor.
“Yeh shouldn’ be outta school colors. What’s yer name?”
I looked down at the deep plum jumper I’d pulled on for my run and frowned, “Is that a rule? I haven’t heard that athletic gear had to be in house colors.”
“Well, I ‘spose not a rule but yeh should still be showin’ yer House.” He wasn’t saying it unkindly, but I still felt irritated. I swallowed that feeling. It was too soon after my run to let anything bring me down. “Name?”
“Medea Malfoy, Slytherin House,” almost as soon as I said it, his expression faltered and I had to hold my tongue. It’s not like I didn’t know his thoughts.
There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin.
It’s nonsense anyway, Pettigrew went rotten and betrayed the Potters and he was a Gryff. Hell, Crouch Jr. was a Ravenclaw and he’s one of the worst there is. Lockhart and Quirrell, too, though no one knows about the both of them yet. Hagrid himself hates squibs and muggles. Hypocrite.
“Aye, well then, back to the dorm fer yeh.”
“I was already headed in.” The longer I stood in front of Hagrid, the more my disinterest in him rose. I didn’t give a lick about him. I didn’t even want to hear pleasantries from him.
‘You are a die to be cast, Medea. One of your sides is who you are, but the rest are the masks we must wear out in the world.’ Mother chided, when I began attending pureblood socials, ‘You are a Malfoy, a Pureblood, and a young witch. You must hide the truth from those you wish to use. Kindness, curiosity, distaste, tuck them away.’
Mother had paused after that, before a harsh look took over her face, ‘Only the useless and incompetent don’t deserve a mask.’
Hagrid was both. So, I didn’t add any inflection to my voice when I spoke, didn’t arch my brows or purse my lips, I didn’t sneer. I just walked past him and left.
Suffice it to say I would not be taking Care of Magical Creatures in Year 3.
-
“You look like a drowned cat.” Daphne stated as soon as I walked into the common room, not even half dried from my run.
“Where were you? You missed some Gryff stumbling to dinner halfway through and tripping over his own two feet. It was hilarious.” Pansy clapped, “I think there was blood.”
Longbottom, likely.
“I thought the physician told you not to run so much at once?” I smiled at the scowl on my brother’s face.
Daphne and Pansy snapped to look at Draco, “Run?”
“Yes, I am a firm believer that being physically fit can only benefit a witch,” I ignored my brother’s snort and draped myself across a soft armchair, “And that’s bullocks. They said I just had to be careful. And then they gave me a potion to help me build my stamina. So it’s fine.”
At his sharp look I relented.
“It’s not my normal distance, calm down.” With a huff I twirled my hand, “I haven’t been able to run since last Thursday. I’ll probably max out at two hours a day until winter hols.”
“Did you say two hours?” I nearly jumped as I turned around to see Nott, accompanied by Zabini, standing just behind me with a shocked expression, “A day?”
Draco slammed his hand down on his leg then pointed to Nott, “Yes! She is mental. That is the correct response!”
“No,” I scowled, “Running is a perfectly normal past time for a young witch -or wizard. Father runs.”
“Father only runs because you used to go missing for five hours, show up to dinner drenched in sweat, and announce ‘what a day’.” Draco huffed, “It made him and Mother mental because that’s all you would say.”
I could have stopped myself. But the people around us were those I wanted Draco and I to be close to. Plus, I didn’t want to stop myself.
“Oh, was it just them that went mental? What about-“ I scrunched my nose and pitched my voice to a mockery of Draco’s, “Dea, don’t run. Dea, let’s have some tea.”
“I brought you along one time and what happened?” I huffed a laugh, “You went accidental and a root tripped me!”
Draco went lightly pink and Zabini laughed and sat to my right, “Why exactly do you run for five hours at a time?”
“I don’t -anymore. Draco was right. The physicians actually did tell me to cut back.” I slid two fingers into the pocket on my thigh and pulled out a tube no larger than a pinky finger, filled with a clouded green mixture that would occasionally spark blue lightning. I held it out for him, and when he took it I continued, “I have to take these stamina-endurance-muscle potions after I run.” I paused, then decided it was fine to keep going, “For now. This is supposed to be the last year I need them.”
It was a Potion of Muscle Growth and Compression, with minor alterations to account for my age and style of exercise. It was made so that my muscles will remain lithe but still grow stronger. It was pink magic and growth magic in one. Father had Snape make them for me, and once a year he posts them by owl. I was actually supposed to surrender it to Madam Pomfrey at the infirmary -but hell if I’m going to drop by every day to grab one. I brought a few dozen in my trunk, but when I run out I’ll have to drop by Snape’s office -or worse, owl Father. Both are likely to force me to go to Pomfrey to get the potions after.
As Zabini passed it to Nott, I shrugged, “I always knew I wanted to duel -our father is rather adept at it. And running helps with building stamina for spellcasting. I stopped going accidental shortly after -no matter how emotional I got.”
It was a lie, of course. Not the bit about Father -the reason I run. But I’m not quite ready to share my memory yet. One day, maybe I’ll tell Pansy and Daphne. But Nott and Zabini? Who knows.
“When will you go?” Pansy took the potion from Nott, examining it with narrowed eyes.
“After today, probably an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening.” I took the vial from Pansy and uncorked it, “You’re welcome to join, if you please.”
I knocked back the potion, ignoring the curious looks from the group. Pansy and Daphne seemed to be in thought, but Draco just snorted.
“Don’t do it.”
“You’re just being an arse because you haven’t figured out the password,” I smirked as I looked pointedly at the broom still stuck over the mantle, “Maybe you should proclaim your undying love to it and it’ll come down.”
Both Pansy and Daphne grinned at that and my brother groaned.
“What do you want?”
“Tsk,” I frowned, “That’s for you to figure out. Give me something worthwhile.”
-
I scrubbed every inch of my body, trying to mute the crawling sensation. It felt as if every vein and muscle in my body was roiling. I wanted to scream. I hated the growth potion when I first took it, and I hated it every time after.
The portraits above my bed recognized my mood immediately, choosing to keep silent. Bulstrode and Spektor were chatting with Daphne while Pansy was laying on her bed tossing something into the air.
It was just late enough to where we all were drowsy from the excitement of the day, so we put out the lights and sank into our beds.
I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow that night