Watching

Watching

Chapter 12

I woke up next to him; his arms were wrapped around me and held me to him with the promise that he wasn't letting go without a fight. I shifted so I could see him. His hair had fallen into his face again, he had a slight smile on his lips, and the light streaming in from the high window played with his features.

I reached up and brushed the hair from his face. He stirred and opened his eyes.

"Morning," he said.

I looked at the clock on the bedside table. The hand was pointing to "lunch"

"Good afternoon," I corrected.

His eyes widened in shock. "Really?" he asked. The both of us were usually awake at the crack of dawn, having been raised to do so, sleeping as long as we did it was really shocking.

There was a knock on the door.

"Fuck," I muttered and got out of the bed and put on my clothes while Draco called "hold on," to the person at the door.

When we were both decent, Draco opened the door. It was Pansy.

"What," Draco demanded.

"Potter's looking for you and Athena," she answered. "Something about a date you all had." She looked over at me with a look of disgust on her pudgy face before walking away.

"I hate her," I muttered.

"Why?"

"Did you see the look she just gave me?"

"Don't mind her, it's not like she ever had the chance."

"You're the one who went to the Yule Ball with her."

"Only because I couldn't ask you. Your father forbade you from even going."

I rolled my eyes. Yes, my father did forbid me from going to that blasted ball, but only because he didn't want to accept the fact that his little girl was growing up and that he wasn't sure if there would be any danger from going. But Draco didn't stay at the ball for long, he'd ditched Parkinson and joined me in the common room alone.

That was the first time I realized I liked him as more than a friend or as someone I had known my whole life.

I walked out of his room, giving him a kiss as I passed, and went to my own. The door was open, which was odd. I never leave it open. I heard someone still inside and I was pissed. The first rule of being a Slytherin: Don't trust anyone. The second: Lock your door.

Millicent Bulstrode was in my room, going through my things.

I transformed into the cat and jumped onto my bed, and hissed.

She turned around.

"Who are you?" she asked sweetly, reaching out to me.

I bit her. No one touches me without my permission. She tried to pull away, but I sank my teeth in deeper, rupturing a vein in her hand. Her blood poured into my mouth, coppery and hot, and I bit down harder.

It was only after she screamed and Draco appeared at my door that I let go. She ran out, he walked in, and I changed back.

"What the bloody hell was that about," he asked me.

"Look around, love, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

I stood up and went to my dresser where a steel bowl sat for whenever I brushed my teeth in here. I spat the extra blood out of my mouth and looked around at all of my scattered clothes. She was looking for something. What though?

I picked out clothes to wear today and put the rest away. I changed into the black one-sleeved shirt and tight leather pants. "I am going to curse the living hell out of that bitch. Then maybe she'll be expelled. What's gotten into her?"

"It's possible that she actually doesn't care. She is in her seventh year and can leave. Maybe she's just looking for a reason and pissing your father off sounds lovely."

"Or she's completely insane. Or it's something else...."

I grabbed my cloak and wand and walked out of my room for the common room. She was sitting with Crabbe alone, everyone else having left the dormitory.

She quickly stood when she heard me come in. I walked quickly to her, tossing my cloak and wand on a chair on my way; she stayed still with fright. I could practically smell her fear.

I backhanded her. She fell against the wall and tried to hold herself up. I reached for before she could run. People started spilling into the common room wondering what was going on. I held her arm in a vice-like grip as she struggled to get away. I gripped the sleeve of her left arm just below the seam, and yanked it down, tearing it off, and then I turned her arm over. The Dark Mark shown clearly against her white flesh.

I backhanded her again, still holding onto her arm so she wouldn't go anywhere.

"What reason did you have?" I demanded.

"Orders," she informed me defiantly.

"Whose?"

"The Dark Lord's."

"You give him this message: I am not going to stand for this. He either trusts me or I leave," I challenged. "Understand?"

She spat in my face; I hit her again. "And tell him I am more like my namesake than he expects."

I let her go and wiped the spit from my face before returning the favor and grabbing my cloak and wand.

Then I left to find my brother.