Faint

Chapter 7: Watch Me

What possessed me to say that?? I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. He’ s horrible. Cruel, sneaky, arrogant. Everything I hate. So why can’t I stop going to him?

She is tearing apart the flower she conjured, scattering bent and torn petals over the stone floor. It reminds her of a Muggle game she heard of. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me...

He loves me not.

The last petal falls, bringing her back into reality. Of course Draco doesn’t love her. And she doesn’t love him. She can’t.

"Password, dear?"

She gives a start as she realizes that she is in front of the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady is looking at her expectantly.

"Golden Snitch."

It swings open and she steps through, sighing loudly and raking a hand through her hair. The common room is empty, no sign of Harry in sight. Thank gods. She makes her way to her dormitory, sinking onto her bed. She casts a silencing charm and buries her face in her pillow just seconds before the sobs shake her body.

*

Days pass. Draco is avoiding her at every turn. She has not returned to his room since that night. She begins to sneak into the common room, waiting for hours in hopes that Harry will descend the winding staircase. She stays until the fire dies, and then returns to her bed with a wistful sigh. He seems to be avoiding her as well. He won’t even look at her. It gives her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why is everything she does wrong?

*

Finally, nine days after her last visit to him, she wakes up determined to talk to Draco.

She can barely stomach her breakfast. She has made up her mind to corner him on his way to the dungeons. Today is the Hogsmeade trip, so most people will have already left. She sees him leave the hall, and waits exactly thirty seconds before pushing her bowl to the center of the table. She rises slowly to her feet and walks as quickly as she can to the door.

She is almost to the Slytherin common room when she sees a glint of pale white hair. He is standing alone, leaning casually against a wall. As if he is expecting her. Taking a deep breath, she strides forward, suddenly not caring who sees. She stops in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hopes is a confident stance.

"We need to talk."

Surprise flickers through his eyes, but the rest of his face remains impassive. "Do we?"

"Yes," she hisses.

"You’re off your rocker if you think I’m going to talk to you here."

She fights the urge to throw her hands into the air. "Fine! We can go somewhere else. But you are going to talk to me."

He gives her an appraising look, raises one eyebrow, and says, "Follow me, and don’t get lost."

She bites back the comebacks springing to her lips and walks after him.

He leads her outside, around the castle, and through a tall hedge, revealing a stone courtyard with a fountain in its center.

"What the hell is up with you, Malfoy?" She whirls on him and narrows her eyes.

"I’m not the one making pathetic declarations of love, Weasley. Not that I can blame you. "

"You think I meant it?"

He shrugs. "You said it, didn’t you?"

"I plead temporary insanity. I don’t love you. I hate you."

"Tsk tsk. Hate is such a very strong word."

"You hate everyone," she points out.

"Not everyone."

"Well you sure as hell don’t love anyone!"

"Just because I don’t love you, doesn’t mean I don’t love."

There is silence for a long moment, finally broken when he says, "You can say whatever you want about me. But in the end, it is always the same. You want me, and I give you something no one else can."

She looks down at her feet. "You’re wrong."

"Who then?" he asks, his voice rising a fraction.

"Harry," she whispers, so low he can barely hear it.

His eyes frost over, his features becoming even colder than they already were. "Potter?" he asks, with disbelief in his voice.

She nods.

 He grabs her shoulders, gripping them tightly.

"So what, you’re going to go crawling back to Wonder Boy now?"

He shakes her until she looks up at him, tears shining in her eyes and her red hair flying everywhere. She is wincing under the pressure of his fingers. "Let go of me," she says in a low voice.

He ignores her. "You little whore. You won’t leave me, you’re too weak. Pathetic."

She closes her eyes and concentrates. In a split second, he is thrown backward, onto the ground. Her arms are throbbing where his hands were.

"You think I won’t leave you? Watch me."

As she walks away, she hears him cursing under his breath. Once back inside the castle, she collapses beside a staircase, tears streaming down her face.