Silent

SILENT

There are many things you must keep silence about.

Things that people don't want to hear. Things that will make them sad and disappointed. Things that are meant only for you to know.

You were silent about the way you felt when your friend turned away from you. Ron was supposed to be there, and he turned away. Then he came back, but it was not the same for you, wasn't it? You knew that those who left once could do it again. But you forgave him and took him back. There were so many words you could say, words of hurt, of pain, of loneliness, but you silently smiled and refused to listen to his apology. Why make him humiliate himself if the damage was already done? You knew by then that he could leave. And you will never say a word about it.

You were silent when others remembered funny stories about their childhood. You could tell them about spending three hours outside in the rain because you were scared of your cousin and his friends who threatened to beat you if you entered the house. Dudley found it very funny back then, especially the fact that you "were crying your eyes out like a girl". You could tell them about sitting in cold water for forty minutes when your aunt who was bathing you ran off to answer a phone call. Uncle Vernon laughed a lot when he heard about that. He said that only a complete idiot would sit there for so long. But you were told to stay put, and didn't dare to move... You were not sure if these stories were really amusing, and you didn't say anything. No one asked you, and you just sat there silently, listening to them, laughing at somebody else's memories.

Silence is the best way to deal with accusatory glances asking how you let Voldemort come back, after all the trust and love and admiration they put into you. The habit of keeping silence helps a lot when you fight the instinct to beg for forgiveness, to apologize for all the deaths you didn't prevent.

You learnt to cry silently a long time ago. You were used to have nightmares while sleeping in the cupboard, and you learnt soon enough that your uncle and aunt were very displeased to be awakened by your crying. And you assumed that your friends would not like to be bothered by your crying in the middle of the night, either. Each time you bolt awake from another nightmare, your scar hurting, you stay quiet, silent tears rolling down your face and disappearing somewhere on your neck.

You are silent in the meetings with Dumbledore. When he reasons with you about necessity of going back to Dursleys, when he forbids you to see Sirius as this could be too dangerous for both of you, you want to leap to your feet and scream that it is unfair, that you will go mad if you return there once again, that Sirius is your only family. But all you do is nod silently and walk away. He probably knows that you stopped paying attention to his words, and these meetings are becoming shorter and shorter now.

Sometimes you want to tell about those things but you've been keeping this inside for too long. Now you don't even know how to begin speaking. It is so easy and simple to chat with your friends about school, to smile at them, to discuss the results of the recent Quidditch game, to complain about amount of homework, but you cannot speak of those things to them. You realize that they don't want to hear that.

When you began to feel that way about him, you made sure to keep silence about this, also. It is simply another thing to be added to the list of unspoken. You know too well how cold his grey eyes could be, how cruel his taunting could become if he ever were to find out about your secret. He would never tolerate this. No one would. He would laugh at you, probably. Your friends would be disgusted and horrified. And so you remain silent. Silent while watching him across the hall, listening to his voice in the Potions classroom, accidentally touching him in the narrow corridor, at the same time desperately inhaling air in a futile attempt to catch his smell and remember it. Taste is entirely left to your imagination. No matter how inventive with those touching accidents you are, there is no way you can taste Draco Malfoy by chance. Really, it is such a small, innocent secret. And when you keep silence, nobody gets upset or angry with you.

Then something happena. Details will seem vague to you later on, but you will remember walking down the corridor, and suddenly he is in front of you, and you don't have time to touch him because he touches you first, seizing your hand and dragging you into a corner. He says something but you don't hear his words, and in the next moment he kisses you. You finally get the chance to feel his taste, but that seems totally insignificant to you. His palm is cupping your cheek, your hands somehow get entangled in his silky hair, you can look into his eyes that turn out to be very warm if you dare to open yours for a second, you hear his whisper, but all that is unimportant. You are too stunned by your new revelation to appreciate his taste, his smell, his touch, his voice or his looks. After long years in unshared silence, you finally understand that even those who remain silent can be heard sometimes.

The End