Let's Kill Tonight ~ Chapter Seventeen

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Rebecca stood beside Draco in front of a roaring fire, the wild flames slowly burning through the wooden logs. The room smelt like a forest, with a mixture of woody smells coming from the fire itself, and a large pine Christmas tree the other side of the room that had been sparsely decorated with a deep red coloured tinsel.

Draco leant forwards and grabbed a small silver box from off of the fireplace mantelpiece. He flicked the lid open, revealing a glittery silver dust. Floo powder.

“What’s your house address?” he asked, scooping some of the powder out into his palm.

“Twenty one Undervale Lane, Wimbourne,” Rebecca replied quietly. There was no words to describe how nervous she felt. What would happen if they – her family – didn’t want to see her? She felt sick just thinking about it.

Draco gave her a reassuring nod and went to throw some of the powder, but strangely stopped and instead pulled his hand back. A look of recognition spread across his face. “That address. I’ve heard it before, I’m sure of it.”

Rebecca shrugged and began shifting anxiously on the spot, shoving her hands, on which she was wearing thick knitted gloves, deeply into her pockets. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she mumbled.

But Draco appeared to not be listening, and was instead caught up in his own thoughts. “Twenty one,” he repeated, frowning. “Wimbourne...” He suddenly looked at Rebecca, remembering where he had heard the address. “That’s where you sent the other letter. That night in the tower.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca gulped. “Listen, can’t we do this some other time. I really don’t think I can-”

“No, we’re doing this, Becky,” Draco interrupted sternly. “What’s wrong? I thought you would be happy about seeing your family again.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted shamefully.

You’re scared. Come on Becky, you’ve killed people. How can you be scared?!” Draco’s voice was raised in impatience.

“Yes, thank you Draco. We’ve established that,” Rebecca sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he half smiled sheepishly, playing with the floo powder in his hand. “I just... It keeps going around in my head... I thought that maybe, you’d have mentioned it to me before.”

“And how was I supposed to do that? Was I supposed to break away during that kiss in the forest, when you tied me to a tree, and say ‘oh yeah, before you get too involved with me, I just think I should mention that I’ve killed two people’?!” The words rushed out of Rebecca’s mouth, and she gave a helpless look at Draco. “I’m sorry, it’s the nerves.”

But he seemed to be either caught up in the memory of kissing her, or unable to think of something to say back, as he became quiet.

“We need to use the fireplace for visitors – to get to my house,” Rebecca recalled, trying to shake Draco out of his quiet state. It worked.

“Why does your house have a visitors entrance?”

“My mother never got her apparation licence - she says it’s an unnatural way to travel - so she installed a fire place in the muggle garage for the minority of witches and wizards that feel the same. Plus the fireplaces in the house aren’t part of the floo network, so it’d be impossible to get into them anyway.”

“Right... So you want to go now then?”

“Yes, but first...” Rebecca trailed off as she ran across the room, grabbed a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey that was sat on the dresser, and erratically pulled off the lid. She took a gulp and grimaced as the bitter liquid burned her throat, immediately feeling the uneasy sensation of nervousness flicker away.

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