Of Silver and Green

Ch. 08 Strange Reactions

"I'm nervous," whispered Brynne as they walked up the stairs from the dungeon.

"Don't be," replied Draco. "None of them matters anyways."

"But still..." she began.

"Shh," he interrupted. "I don't care what they think. I know what I want, and I'm not going to change my mind, even if everyone in that room is against us."

His words were strong, but she was still anxious. He looked down at her and could read the worry all over her face. By now, they were standing just outside the Great Hall's mahogany doors. He turned her until she was standing in front of him. "Relax," he told her. "You just need to relax." These last words were whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. He gathered her to him and held her until she stopped shaking. "Better?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. She took his arm again and gave him the bravest smile she could muster. She may have been composed on the outside, but her insides were still snakes.

"Good." Draco opened the huge door effortlessly and they stepped inside. They were a good ten minutes late, so when they entered, every single head swiveled their way. They were met with irritated looks from the professors, well, except for Snape, who looked on with the vaguest traces of approval. Some students had angry expressions on their faces, Goyle, Pansy, and Flint being the most noticeable. But mostly, Draco and Brynne were met with expressions of uncomprehending interest.

As per usual, Draco's eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where Potter and the other two stooges were seated. They were all talking heatedly, while throwing confused looks in his direction. Draco was tempted to go over there and introduce them to Brynne. Instead, deciding that would be too weird, he led Brynne to the place that was reserved for him.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Crabbe and Goyle had left space at the place of honour at the center of the table only for one. He glanced around quickly; satisfied that everyone was still watching him. He looked on his right and left: Crabbe and Goyle. He made the decision in an instant. He knew he would probably live to regret this. Draco pulled Goyle up from his seat by the back of his robes in one fluid movement, and shoved his out of the way. He seated Brynne next to Crabbe, and he himself sat in Goyle's seat. As Goyle retreated to find a new seat, his dark eyes shot Brynne a malicious look that seemed to insinuate bodily harm was imminent.

Draco felt eyes on him from all over the room. The whole hall was silent. Just when he thought the tension was going to make his head explode, he heard a high-pitched voice say, "Could I take your picture?" Draco gazed around for the source of the distraction and his eyes rested on the mousy Gryffindor Mudblood who insisted on carrying around the Muggle contraption to thrust in people's faces. Creevey or something like that. The tension broken, the other students began to converse amongst themselves again. Mostly about Draco and the mysterious girl he was with, but at least their scrutiny wasn't so obvious.

Draco ignored Creevey and turned to Brynne. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked quietly, squeezing her hand. He noticed the faint sheen of a layer of perspiration on her face. She was so pale. He narrowed his eyes. Why was this bothering her so much?

Brynne was terrified. All those eyes, staring at her, judging her, telling her she wasn't good enough. She may have been the most recent in one of the longest lines of pure-blood wizards, but she preferred to stay unknown, afraid of what gossips like Pansy Parkinson might find if they dug too deep in the family secrets. That and she simply wasn't used to all this attention all at once.

Even as a member of her house Quidditch team she didn't get a lot of attention, which was just how she liked it. Very few people even knew she was on the team. She was almost certain that Draco didn't even know. First of all, she was a Beater, the position that received the least amount of attention. Second, she always wore her hood to cover her face and played under an alias: Bry. And third, she was incredibly secretive. She hardly talked to anyone, so people just naturally stayed away from her. And now...all those eyes... Gentle pressure on her hand pulled her from her thoughts. "Hmmm?" she asked faintly.

"Are you alright? You look a little pale," murmured Draco.

"I'm fine, really," she began, before her sparkling green eyes clouded and rolled back into her head as she fell backwards.

Somehow, Draco managed to catch her just before head hit the hard marble floor. He vaguely heard those around him talking, most worried, some laughing (he would make them regret that later). He looked towards the main table, where the professors were seated, searching for Madame Pomfrey. She was already at his elbow however, examining Brynne. She made a move to cast the levitating spell, but Draco wouldn't let her. Pomfrey looked up at Dumbledore, who was standing in front of his chair, for some intervention, but he simply motioned for her to let it go. Pomfrey sighed and said resignedly, "Fine, Mr. Malfoy, you can carry her, but you'd better not drop her." Then she straightened and began to make her way to the door.

Despite his short stature, Draco was really quite strong due to the conditioning he had been putting himself through since third year. He gathered Brynne to his chest and stood up, stepping over the bench and making to follow Madame Pomfrey.

As he left the hall, Draco noticed several facial expressions. Crabbe looked stunned, while Goyle, Pansy, and Flint all looked rather smug. Draco frowned, trying to think of the appropriate punishment, and casting them all aside, deciding none were vengeful enough. Then he glanced at the Gryffindor table. He was shocked to see the worry on their faces. Maybe they weren't the prats they always acted as. Then he looked at the faces of the Three Stooges and noted, while worry was the dominant expression, they couldn't hide their bewilderment. He assumed it was there because they didn't think he could be affectionate. He smiled, reflecting that he would have thought the same a few days ago. With that thought, he carried Brynne after Madame Pomfrey, who was muttering that they could have been to the hospital wing by now if Brynne had only been levitated.