The Ones Left Behind

From the very beginning, as he was teetering off the egde, I had watched, knowing. I didn't want to believe it then, because back then, it was just unfathomable. Even when it was a clear as the light of day, I had trouble believing it.

I mean, honestly… Draco Malfoy — in love?

I'd lie awake some nights, wondering to myself how something so impossible, downright illogical, could have happened. None of us saw it coming, and none of us knew the wiser when it came. Who'd ever expect a Slytherin to know what love was, right? Or what to do with it. By the time Love claimed him, he was unreachable. Like he'd ascended to a higher level in life, higher than most of us couldn't even begin to dream of. And there was no way back down.

I remembered the day he had fallen. It was a Monday, I remembered that because Draco always hated Mondays. He'd go on and on for most of the morning, moaning and griping, just plain being Draco about it and that Monday was no different.

But it hadn't happened in the morning. It was in the afternoon, right after our Potions class. We were testing our Drought Potions, and let's just say it was the first time we weren't glad we did it right. We marched into the lawns then to cool off, Draco in the lead, as always. I was right beside him, yet I didn't see what he saw.

I think she was standing under a tree at first, because I only noticed her walking towards us when the sunlight hit her hair. It was nearly blinding, but Draco seemed entranced by it. He had stopped immediately, his mouth slightly open. That should have been my first clue — Draco never left his mouth open.

Back then, I thought they were glaring at each other, but now I know better — they weren't glaring, they were staring.

She continued to walk toward us until she was just a few feet away before she made a sharp left turn, ducking into one of the open hallways to chat with her friends. It was a full three seconds before Draco finally got moving again, looking as if nothing at all had happened.

But I knew better.

He didn't know it then, but that was the moment he fell in love. It wasn't 'love at first sight' — he'd seen her enough before to rule that one out. But it wasn't exactly one of those deep-harbored loves, either. Nor was it your lust-induced infatuation like in those romance novels Millicent always buys. I guess the best way to describe it is like shopping for wands. The moment that wand is placed in your hands, you just know, in your heart of hearts, that that wand was made for you. It's like a tiny spark has been ignited somewhere deep in your chest, like the heavens themselves have opened up to sing their hymns of joy.

I saw the spark in his eyes. I saw the joy, the sheer euphoria that love would give him, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. But when he blinked, the spark was gone, and my envy along with it. The happiness I saw was gone, as if it had never even been there. Instead there was pain. A long road of pain and decisions, and my heart went out to him.

I wanted to help him, but I hesitated. I wondered if it was really my place to meddle with such a delicate thing.

So instead I mourned for him. I sympathized, even pitied. You couldn't help who you loved. And that's what I thought it was — that a higher power had chosen his fate for him, that it was out of his hands. That he'd fallen victim to the cruel fates, a pawn in their sick game of life.

Soon enough, Draco became a lovesick puppy. Crabbe and Goyle gagged everytime they saw him, and I couldn't help but share the sentiment. He was pathetic, really. Practically skipping around the common room, this dazed look on his face after every date he had with her — and there were a lot. It wasn't long before we stopped seeing Draco outside of class completely. And I was mad at him. I felt betrayed, thrown away like some worn-out pair of boots.

It wasn't that I was jealous because he'd found someone else (although that would have been the case earlier on, I've actually accepted the fact that he'd never see me that way). It hurt more that I was his friend — his best one, even! — and he'd completely forgotten about me! I wanted to slap him, kick him, hit him over the head with our Divining Made Easy! books, do anything just so I could get my bloody satisfaction.

But I didn't.

I couldn't, really. No matter how much I really wanted to — and believe me, I really wanted to — I just couldn't do it. I could never harm Draco, not even when he's the biggest prat in the world (which is actually not as often as most might think). I knew him for too long, spent too much time with him to want to actually hurt him.

So I burned his homework instead.

See? Even Slytherins have hearts.

It's the third month now, and I'm ready as I ever was to sever all ties with him — the lovely couple had just discovered the brilliance that is 'pet names'.

I locked myself in my dorm room; just me, the fireplace, and his bookbag. Normally, a dormitory didn't have a fireplace, but I didn't study all that Transfiguration for nothing. Digging through the leather bag, I quickly found his notebook, and, without even a second thought, chucked it into the glowing fire. The flames heightened and the embers sizzled. Not exactly bloody, but satisfying nonetheless.

I was just about to throw in his Potions essay when my door started to speak.

Well, not exactly.

"Pansy? You in there?"

I cursed. There was no doubt in my mind that the deep tenor voice I just heard was Draco's, but what the bloody hell was he doing back? Didn't he and Snookums have a date?

"I'm coming in," he said, and quickly uttered the counter-spell I used on the door. I practically flew out of my seat, using my wand to Banish his things under my bed — though not without knocking down a few things…

He came to stand beside me, looking in the same direction I was looking, an eyebrow quirked. "Redecorating?"

I glared at him, too angry to feel embarrassed or shame. "So?" I snapped, before taking my seat again. "What do you care?"

If he had been hurt by my words, he sure didn't show it.

"Is that my quill?"

"So?!" I shouted. Damn my outbursts.

He grabbed hold of Millicent's trunk then and dragged it towards me, stopping just a few inches away so that his arm brushed against mine. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking directly at me, willing me to look right back at him.

Well tough.

"Nothing's wrong," I told him, all the while keeping my eyes planted on the burning fire.

"Uh huh," he said, disbelievingly.

"Shouldn't you be on your date?" I asked sharply, and saw, through the corner of my eye, that he had winced.

"Ah, yeah, about that," he said, sighing. "We've broken up."

"What?!" Before I could help it, I turned to stare at him, and saw, for the first time in three months, how tired he looked.

Draco nodded, looking away. Now it was his turn to stare at the flames. "Just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

"But… why?"

"Why it wasn't meant to be, or why we broke up?"

I huffed, instinctively batting his shoulder. "Why you broke up, prat!"

He gave a sad smile then, and that alone disturbed me. "She was, ah, how should I put it? 'Seeing someone else'." He made the air-quotes with his hands, knowing full well that it irritated me.

But I was too stunned to feel irritated. "She cheated on you?"

He frowned, his shoulders slumping. "You don't have to put it so harshly."

I could only stare at him. The news blew me away — I mean, I had suspected the relationship wouldn't last (okay, hoped), but I never thought she'd cheat on him…

Before I could stop myself, I started to cry. He gave me a pained look, the same look he always gave me whenever I got too emotional.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh, Draco!" I cried, and flung my arms around him. I buried my face in his shoulder, too embarrassed to show him the pink that was surely on my cheeks.

"Pansy?" He sounded panicked.

"I'm so sorry!" I sobbed into the material of his shirt. "I've been so awful to you! I should have been there! I never should have burned your homework!"

"That was you?!"

"I'm so sorry!" Sweet Merlin, I was getting hysterical. Soon, I felt a comforting hand slowly stroke my back, and could vaguely make out Draco's shushing noises through my weeping.

"It's alright; I'm fine, see?"

But he wasn't. I knew he wasn't. Draco Malfoy was not a person who took things lightly. No doubt he'd been sulking inside his room before finally coming to me. Ever since I've known him, Draco has always taken things personal, but far be it for him to actually show it. If something happened, he'd scoff, shrug it off, and walk away… Only to lock himself inside his room where he drowned himself in his misery. I guess that's what makes he and I such good friends — I'd always show the emotions Draco didn't allow himself to.

So I let him think he's holding me, that I'm the one who needs the comfort. That way, he can cry through my eyes.

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

I started, the softness of his voice surprising. He pulled back so he could look at me, and I saw a sadness in his eyes for the first time that night.

"I was a jerk," he sighed, looking exhausted. "I didn't mean to abandon you guys."

I couldn't help but smile. This was monumental, people — not only was Draco Malfoy apologizing, but he just admitted he was a jerk. Remember this — it will probably never happen again.

"You were a jerk." Oh, come on. Did you think I would miss this chance to rub it in?

"I was," he said, squinting his eyes in warning.

"A big jerk."

"Point taken," he frowned.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't knock some sense into you earlier." What? I am.

"So this is all your fault." It was statement, not a question.

"Pretty much." Cry through my eyes.

"Alright then." He smirked, though it lacked its usual zing.

"Hungry?" Small talk.

"Not really." A lie.

"Well, I'm starved." Also a lie, but my eyes are his.

"I suppose I'll accompany you then," he sighed, bored. "You think we can take Crabbe and Goyle along, or will they spend half an hour crying on my shirt, too?"

"Each?"

"That's a 'no' then."

We walked to the Great Hall, side-by-side, just like old times. He may have left me behind, and may possibly do it again when the next Snookums comes along.

But now I know he won't leave me behind.

And I'll still continue to watch him, though I'm no longer in the front seat. I'm the shadows now, watching, waiting. Ready to catch him if he fell again.