30 December
She’s gone. We
didn’t even fight, and she’s gone. It feels wrong. This is the first night
I’ve spent without her, and I’m not even tired. I have a feeling that I
won’t be sleeping tonight – or maybe for a while.
Is
it supposed to feel this way? I feel… it sounds horrible and cliché,
but I feel hollow. Empty. Like half of me
is missing. It just feels wrong. I know I wrote that already, but I don’t have
any other words to describe it.
I
can still smell her on the pillow and the sheets, and if I try hard enough, I
can almost see her there, too. I tried to lay down, but when I did, I found that
I was avoiding contact with her side of the bed. Damn it, it’s my
bed! She shouldn’t have a side!
I
know that eventually I’ll work through this, just like everything else. But I
don’t want to work through it, and I don’t want her to be gone. I feel
stupid and weak for that. Maybe my Father was right; I am a disappointment.
I allowed myself to
fall in love, and then I was foolish enough to let her know how strongly I felt.
What am I going to do when school starts back and I’m forced to see her at
every meal?
~*~
~*~ ~*~
He
told me he loved me! He told me that he loved me, and I was so happy that I
didn’t know what to say… so I didn’t say anything. And then he started
acting funny. I didn’t understand why at the time, but since I can’t sleep,
I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I understand now. I think he’s
upset because I didn’t say it back to him.
How
is it that I always manage to screw everything up so badly? I love him, and
I’ve known that for at least a few days now. So why couldn’t I say it back
to him? I was afraid of scaring him with my feelings, and in the process, I
managed to scare myself right out of saying it at all.
At
least Ron isn’t here right now to know what’s happened; I just don’t think
I could stand anyone saying they told me so.
~*~
~*~ ~*~
I didn’t sleep well
last night at all, but I suppose that I expected that to happen. I’m scared
– what if I can never get a good night’s sleep again without her nearby? I
had the house elves come in to change the sheets, but when they tried to change
the pillowcase on the pillow she used, I wouldn’t let them. Are all men this
weak when they fall in love?
A week is all
that’s left before the term starts back up, and then I have to resume tutoring
her in Potions. How am I going to be able to sit in a room with her three times
a week, and not touch her? And even worse, how will I ever be able to look her
in the eye again?
I have been waiting
all day. For what, I’m not sure. Am I waiting for her brother to come in and
gloat, or pummel me? Am I waiting for her to come back and tell me that she
loves me and wants me, too? Or am I just waiting for my feelings to fade?
Because none of those things have happened, and none of them are likely to,
either.
I can’t help but
wonder if she’s thinking of me, too, or if she’s regretting anything that
happened between us. I hope at the very least that she doesn’t regret the time
we spent together, because I know that I never will. She gave me the strength
back that I needed to return to normality, and I will always be grateful to her
for that.
~*~
~*~ ~*~
I
miss Draco. I miss his arms around me, I miss the smell of him, and I miss his
voice. Ever since I left yesterday, my chest has hurt. My stomach hurts when I
think of him, which pretty much means that it hurts all the time, because I
haven’t stopped thinking of him yet.
Hermione
seems happy to have me back in the Tower, and she’s done nothing but talk my
ears off. Right now she’s at dinner with Harry and Ron, so I have a temporary
reprieve from her constant nattering. She hasn’t mentioned Draco’s name, but
she tiptoes around the events of the last week.
Ron
hasn’t asked me about what happened, but for the most part he seems to be glad
that I’m back, too. He’s acting strangely – he even hugged me this
morning. I think I hurt his feelings because I pulled away from him, but I
can’t help it. It’s not my brother’s arms that I want around me.
Harry
refuses to even look at me, which is just as well. I suppose he feels I’ve
betrayed him, or some other such nonsense. Draco isn’t the same person he used
to be, and if they knew him, they would understand that. I don’t think they
want to know, though. There are a lot of things that they prefer to turn a blind
eye to.
Blaise
stopped by to check on me today. When I asked him how he knew, he said that
he’d run into Draco at dinner last night, and they’d talked for a while.
It’s good that Draco is rebuilding his friendship with Blaise – he’s a
good guy, and Draco needs someone to talk to.
Blaise
asked me if I wanted to do something with him or Susan, but I said no. I don’t
really feel like seeing anyone right now – especially with it being New
Year’s Eve. He said he would come back tonight; apparently Dumbledore has
arranged to have a small party in the Great Hall for the students who’ve
already come back – which still aren’t many, although there are a fair few
more than yesterday.
I
strongly suspect that Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to school not because of
our interlude in Hogsmeade, but because they couldn’t be alone together at
home. Mum was probably hovering over them the whole time they were there, and
they hate that.
Why
is it so hard to understand that I hate people hovering over me, too?
~*~
~*~ ~*~
The week before term
passes in a blur for Draco. Blaise and Susan have visited him twice in his tower
before the week is over, and he finds that he is glad to have their company. He
starts eating his meals with them in the Great Hall, and because he is eating
with them, they opt to share the Hufflepuff’s table.
Draco
is painfully aware that Ginny is always absent from the Great Hall during
mealtimes, and he wonders if she’s eating properly. He never sees the trio
take her food. He relaxes a bit when he remembers her tickling the pear and
sneaking into the kitchens; perhaps she’s just going when everyone else is
otherwise occupied.
When
the term begins, he finds that he’s become more of a celebrity than Potter, if
that’s possible. Everyone wants to know him, and everyone wants to know what
happened. People that he knows for a fact have always despised him suddenly seem
to want to be his best friends. He wonders vaguely if this is how Potter felt
when he started school at Hogwarts.
He
manages to make it to all of his classes on time, despite the people who crowd
around him in the hallways. When he is on his way to Transfiguration, he thinks
that he catches a glimpse of copper colored hair – but when he cranes his neck
to get a better view, he sees that it’s only the reflection of a torch on the
window.
His
first few days of classes are exhausting, and not sleeping just makes everything
worse. At best, he has managed to get a whopping two hours of sleep per night,
and even that isn’t all at once. By Thursday evening, he begins to wonder if
Ginny has been reassigned to another tutor.
He
waits until seven thirty, and when she doesn’t show up, he decides to go to
the library. He needs to check out some books for his Charms essay that is due
Tuesday, and since he has some free time, this is the time to go. When he enters
the library, it hits him like an oncoming train. The scent of her perfume is
faint, but it lingers in the air.
His
heart starts pounding madly as he glances around the room, but to his mingled
disappointment and relief, he doesn’t see her. He heads towards the section
where he needs to look for his books, and suddenly, there she is.
He
stops mid-step, frozen in place as he watches her. She is in the small study
room that they first met in, and she is sitting at the table with her head bent
over something. When he steps closer, he realizes that the door to the study
room is slightly ajar. He moves even closer still, and sees that she is frowning
over the papers that are scattered across the table.
When
he glances down at the book on the table, he sucks in a deep breath. Potions.
Is she waiting there for him, he wonders? She’s never sent him any kind of
notice that she’s decided to use the study room again. As soon as this thought
enters his mind, his heart sinks. It wasn’t until this moment that he realizes
that he had been counting on her coming to his tower for their sessions again.
He
takes a deep breath and pushes the door to the study room open, and enters. She
looks up in surprise, and almost immediately looks back down at her papers, but
it is too late. Draco has seen her face; has seen the dark smudges beneath her
eyes. They are exacerbated by the fact that her eyes are red and puffy.
He
drops his books on the table, and the noise causes her to jump slightly. When he
sits down, he can tell that it affects her. She begins to chew on the end of her
quill. “So,” he says coolly. “What problem is it this week?”
She
doesn’t reply. Instead she slides a single parchment across the table for him
to examine. When he picks it up, he notes that her marks are a bit higher than
they were before break, which is surprising to him.
They
stay in the room for less than an hour, working silently on her papers. Draco
reads through them and either crosses things out or writes comments in the
margins. When he is finished with the last parchment, without a word she gathers
her things and begins shoving them into her bookbag.
“Tomorrow
night, same place, seven o’clock, yeah?” he asks. She nods and disappears
through the door, leaving Draco to his own work.
Friday
morning dawns dark and grey, and Draco thinks that the weather has somehow
attuned itself to his mood. He stands at his window and watches as the snow
falls silently on the ground. He has no classes today until after lunch, and
that gives him time to be leisurely in his actions this morning.
He
skips breakfast, opting instead to take a long shower. When he is finished, he
dresses and gathers his books, intent on heading to the library again to get
some extra work done. He leaves his tower and heads toward the library, but when
he reaches the hallway that leads to the library, his attention is distracted by
a commotion in the corridor ahead.
“You’ve
got to snap out of it,” Ron demands, his ears turning red in his anger.
“Why
don’t you just leave me the hell alone?” Ginny snaps. She can feel her
cheeks burning as they turn red, and she knows that her eyes are hard and
unforgiving.
“I’m
tired of seeing you mope around! For Merlin’s sake, it was just Malfoy!”
“How
dare you,” Ginny seethes. Draco
peeks around the corner, curious to know what’s going on. He notes that
Granger and Potter are not present, and that Ginny’s brother seems to have
cornered her alone. “You don’t know anything about him, so you have no right
to talk about him like that!”
“I
know enough,” he says, his ears red. “I remember how he’s always treated
us, even if you don’t!”
“He’s
different now,” Ginny protests, her hands on her hips.
“He
is, is he? He’s different enough that he’s taken what he wanted from you,
and then tossed you aside when he was finished?”
Ginny’s
eyes narrow just before her palm connects with his left cheek. An angry red welt
rises on his face in the shape of her handprint, and she is strangely satisfied
by it. Her palm stings from the force of the blow.
“Go
to hell, Ronald.” With that, she turns and walks down the corridor in the
opposite direction. Draco watches as Ron touches a hand to the stricken cheek,
then mutters something under his breath before disappearing into the library.
Draco
finds that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to make his feet move.
He wants to follow her and ask her why she’s taking up for him when they’re
not together anymore. He thinks it strange that he almost sympathizes with her
brother; he has experienced her wrath first hand, and he wouldn’t wish it on
anyone (except maybe Potter).
His
hand is gripping the corner so tightly that his knuckles are white. He is
confused, and he is hurting. His head is reeling from what he’s witnessed, and
he isn’t sure what to make of it. When he finally pries himself away from the
wall, he heads down the corridor in the same direction that she went.
His
expensive shoes clack against the floor, echoing through the empty hallway as he
walks. He doesn’t know where she went, but at times he can catch the slightest
whiff of her perfume, and he knows that he’s heading in the right direction
somehow. He follows the scent until he turns the corner and finds himself
standing face to face with her.
They
stare at each other silently, and he notices that her cheeks are damp. She has
obviously been crying, and he guesses that it’s because of her fight with her
brother. Her lower lip is trembling, and the hand that’s clutching the strap
of her bookbag is shaking.
“What
are you doing here?” she asks quietly.
“I
don’t know,” he admits, frowning. Why did
he follow her? He hadn’t intended to meet her and speak to her, he knows that.
“And why should I have to explain it to you, anyway?”
“You
don’t,” she says, her expression closing off again. “Now if you’ll
excuse me, I have to get to class.” She starts to move past him, but his hand
shoots out and grabs her arm, spinning her around to face him.
“Who
do you think you are, dismissing me like this?” he asks angrily. “I’ve
done nothing wrong to you to make you treat me this way.”
“Treat
you what way?” she asks, trying to shake her arm free of his grasp. “Now let
me go! I have to get to potions, and I don’t exactly fancy Snape’s
detentions!”
“I’ll
let you go when I’m damn good and ready!”
Without warning, he bends and presses his mouth roughly to hers.
She begins to struggle almost immediately, but her heart is not into her
fight, and she gradually melts in his arms.
The
moment that she relaxes, he feels it. He revels in it. Her hands are around his
neck, pulling him closer. His tongue is plundering her mouth, claiming her as
his. His head is spinning as he touches her; one hand is on the small of her
back, and the other hand is clutching the back of her head, holding her to him.
“Is
there a reason that you see fit to keep my pupil from her class, Mister
Malfoy?” a soft voice asks. Draco and Ginny jump apart, and they are both
equally horrified to see Snape in front of them.
“I’m
sorry, sir,” Draco says quickly, stepping in front of Ginny. “I forced
her.”
“You
most certainly did not,” she snaps, pushing him out of the way. Snape watches the
exchange with detached interest.
“Would
you shut up?” he hisses, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t give him an excuse
to-“
“I
do not need you to protect me, Draco
Malfoy! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!”
“As
interesting as this is,” Snape murmurs silkily. “I believe that both of you
are late for class. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and get going, before I
decide to take more.”
Ginny
shoots a glare at Draco before grabbing her bag and taking off in the direction
of the potions classroom. When she has disappeared from sight, Snape arches an
eyebrow at Draco.
“Have
you joined Gryffindor house, Mister Malfoy?”
“Absolutely not,
Sir,” Draco says, sneering slighty. “That’s preposterous.”
“Is it?” Snape
asks, sounding interested. “I don’t think it’s as outrageous as you seem
to think. After all, you’ve just tried to sacrifice yourself for your
girlfriend.”
“She’s not
my girlfriend,” Draco says hotly. Snape doesn’t answer, and leaves with his
robes billowing behind him. Draco heads back to his room, deciding to skive off
his Transfiguration class in order to get ready for their tutoring session later
on in the evening.