Why Do I Love You?

Adjustments and Escapes

The turnout of the feast in the Great Hall was nothing short of dismal. Ginny gloomily wandered into the hall, looking around at the two house tables. That meant half of each house's students had stayed home either to learn the Dark Arts or to be kept out of danger.

They must really be on some kind of unity trip, Ginny thought. The staff had placed Gryffindor with Slytherin and Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw as far as house tables went. Ginny was shaking her head at the awkward arrangement when her dorm-mate Amelie waved her over.

"Slytherin! Can you believe it? They put us with Slytherin!" Amelie exclaimed heatedly.

"Yeah, it's awful," Ginny agreed without emotion, taking a seat next to her friend. There were fewer Slytherins than anyone, and the Gryffindors outnumbered them, so Ginny wasn't worried. Plus, they might not be as bad in fewer numbers. But what had Malfoy been thinking joining her on the train?

Their families had history, all right, and it wasn't a history of warm feelings. But Draco had been through a lot the previous year, and Ginny knew what it felt like to be controlled by a Dark Wizard, so ... she cut herself off. He's a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake! Ginny reprimanded silently.

Catching sight of Ginny's appraisal of his house members, a burly-looking Slytherin glowered at her.

"What are you looking at, Weasley?" he snapped.

Ginny rolled her eyes. So much for her theory.

*~*

Draco glared over at the Gryffindors. There were so many more of them than the Slytherins! He grimaced underneath his sneer. The Slytherins were cowards. Draco felt like all he had ever known was a single-minded focus on cunning and treachery. Now Draco finally understood that there was more than that to life.... Or is that what he was thinking at all? Treachery was all he had ever known. It's gotten me this far, he thought bitterly.

Draco pressed his fingertips to his temples in a desperate attempt to shut out the conflict flooding his mind. He rested his elbows on the table, finding his chin with weary hands and remembering a time when everything was perfectly, harmoniously black and white.

"Draco! Where have you been all summer? We didn't think we'd be seeing you this year!"

An eager-looking girl with a rather squashed face was gazing reverently at Draco. Her devoted eyes showed awe and naïve enthusiasm.

"With, you know, your new job and everything," she was continuing as Draco disgustedly turned away from her eyes.

"Pansy," he said impassively, raising his eyebrows.

She didn't bother to respond, just blinked once with wide, staring eyes.

"I suppose I can do my job from school, now can't I?" Draco explained, cool and dismissive. "This is supposed to be my reformation year, remember?" he prompted.

"Oh, right," she mumbled, furrowing her brow and looking away. She looked almost as though she didn't know what Draco wanted her to think. And Draco was much too mentally exhausted to bother to figure it out.

"Well," Pansy whined, clearly viewing complex events such as the death of the Headmaster unworthy of her attention. "Why weren't you on the train? Where were you?"

"I was busy," Draco responded noncommittally. Pansy, thankfully, didn't question him further. His housemates were used to this manner of his, and they had come to expect only the amount of information he felt ready to give them. Draco was endlessly grateful he would at least have that aspect of his personality to himself this year. He wasn't the confessing sort.

But the truth was that Draco couldn't stand to face them. They anticipated his unruffled and overbearing mannerisms, and he wasn't exactly feeling the part. The Weasley girl had been the closest thing to solace he could find.

He couldn't explain to himself why he had decided to join her in the compartment. Maybe their loneliness attracted them to each other, not like that, of course, just in a sense of proximity.

Draco soon gave up on explaining his actions to himself and turned his eyes to the front of the hall.

*~*

Professor McGonagall was standing at Dumbledore's place, a reminder to everyone why there were so few people in the Great Hall that night.

"Welcome, students," she began. Ginny heard a distinct sob come from the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw table, followed by several sniffs from all about the hall.

"This is sure to be one of the most trying and dangerous years we will ever experience. As a school of witchcraft and wizardry, all of our power is gathered here in one place in a school still protected by Dumbledore's charms." McGonnagal took a deep breath and continued shakily, but with determination Ginny wished she could share.

"Those of you who have returned are dedicated to learning, and you must also pay careful attention to unity among the houses, as the Sorting Hat told you last year. The importance of it this year is clear: we have no new first years and only half of the returning students we would otherwise have with us, so those who are still here must not only remain loyal to the school and its causes but also to each other.

"Three of our number have set out to defeat the one who has been so restricting us, forcing fear into the souls of all. Here, we will continue lessons as usual, but it will be impossible to ignore what our fellow students are doing. They are risking their very lives for our protection and the safety of the wizarding world."

Ginny bit her lip at the mention of Harry, her brother, and her best friend. Their absence hit her like a tidal wave, washing over her and drowning her in helplessness. A steady buzzing filled her ears, and she closed her eyes, willing every nightmare to be just that, willing it all to be unreal. Hot tears leaked from between her lashes.

They had left without her, and she was every bit as capable as they were. Ginny swung her legs around and stormed out of the Great Hall, half of her desperate to miss them and half of her eager to condemn them.

Little did she know that, with cold, gray eyes, Draco was watching her go, wishing he could follow and avoid the questioning glares emanating from all around him, wishing he too could escape.