Save Yourself

Save Yourself - Chapter Four

The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of Millicent’s hoarse voice yelling obscenities towards Blaise, who had apparently poured a glass full of water on Millicent’s square face. I was about to congratulate Blaise on her efforts – and threaten many inhuman actions if she was ever to do such a thing to me – but I thought better of it as I saw Millicent’s already red face turn purple.

This was going to be one hell of a day.

Quietly, I sneaked off into the adjacent toilets and carefully dressed; a plaid gray sweater and black skirt with a white shirt underneath, complete with a green and silver – Slytherin House colours – tie and standard black Hogwarts robes. I didn’t care much for the uniform, as I was used to standing out from the crowd and the fact every other girl, Slytherin or no, would be wearing the exactly same uniform – save the tie – bothered me quite a bit more than I’d care to admit.

After I had brushed my teeth, I stood in front of a mirror and critically examined myself in the way I believed Mother would have. My messy dark hair stood on end after the restless night, waiting for the daily ritual of fifty strokes on each side. I was pale from the lack of sun the past summer and my hair set that off more than usual. I wasn’t, by any means, even remotely beautiful; I would have changed bodies with any other girl – besides Millicent – in a moment’s time, as long as they were prettier than me.

I hated the way I looked, but I reasoned this out with the thought of how every girl my age either hated their looks or simply wasn’t mature enough to care yet. They were something I prayed I would be able to change as I learned more magic, for what kind of prince would want a hideous princess?

After I had brushed my hair to Mother’s idea of perfection, I walked down to the Common Room to attempt to find my dorm mates in hopes that between the three of us, we would be able to find our way to the Great Hall.

Of course, even if I was half-Irish, my luck just didn’t run that way.

Sitting on one of the more comfortable chairs was Draco, flanked once again by his two cronies. I tried to escape the Common Room without him noticing me, but once again, no such luck. He stood up lackadaisically and made his way towards me, giving me no means of escape.

”Pansy,” he nodded as a greeting, “Sleep well?”

”Like a rock,” I lied, clenching my jaw as he stepped up next to me and started to lead the way out of the Common Room. “And you?”

”As well as I always do,” he replied vaguely, “Have you any idea where breakfast is served?”

”In the Great Hall,” I answered quietly, following him without complaint. “Where all the meals will be served.”

”You don’t have to get haughty and rude,” he replied, his tone suggesting injury but his expression suggesting something different entirely. “It was just a question.”

”I’m sorry,” I apologized half-heartedly, “Do Crabbe and Goyle have to follow us everywhere?”

Draco glanced back behind us where the two giants were lumbering along, obliviously to how we were discussing them.

”They’ll leave if I want them to.”

I raised an eyebrow, “And what if I want them to?”

He shrugged, “You’re welcome to try and get them to listen to you, of course.”

With a heavy sigh, I followed the boy through a maze of corridors and stairways, amazed he even remotely remembered his way from the night before.

We reached the Great Hall a few minutes later, where about two-thirds of the school were sitting and eating breakfast, pouring over their distributed schedules and cramming toast into their mouths at the same time.

”Amazing,” I muttered, seating myself next to Draco when we reached a clear section of the Slytherin table. “You’d think they’d have more manners, chewing with their mouths open like cows.”

”Father would have never allowed me to eat like that,” Draco agreed, wrinkling his nose in disgust and shooting an especially acid look over towards the Gryffindor table, where I noticed Harry Potter sitting next to a few redheads.

”How did the whole Potter thing go yesterday?” I asked calmly, taking a piece of toast and spreading it liberally with jam.

”Don’t ask,” Draco growled, stabbing a plateful of scrambled eggs with his fork. “He’s a miserable git who doesn’t have any brains in that hollow skull of his, I’ll tell you that.”

”Reject you, did he?” I laughed lightly, not caring whether or not it was offensive. “Not everyone’s going to love you, Draco. You’re going to have to learn that.”

”Didn’t I tell you to keep your smart comments to yourself yesterday?” he snapped, fork clattering to the plate, “Or was your head too full of fluff to comprehend what I meant?”

My eyes narrowed, “Didn’t I tell you my mouth was the one thing you didn’t have any control over?”

He scowled, “It’ll have to go.”

I smirked sarcastically, “You told me that yesterday – I believe you mentioned some sort of a challenge?”

”So I did,” Draco recalled almost lazily, “A Malfoy keeps his word – it’d be best if you remembered that, especially if you’re going to become one some day. If you survive that long, of course.”

My eyes narrowed once more, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, “Why don’t you tell me?”

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, determined not to say another word as I quickly memorized my schedule and swallowed my food, no longer caring if Draco thought it was bad manners.