Twisted Fate

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Chapter 1: ONE

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"I don't like this..."

I rolled my eyes as the students in front of me suddenly came to a halt. I stood on my toes and hoped to see over the heads of my housemates, but I still couldn't see what was causing the hold-up. Annoyed, I pushed my way through the crowd to get to the front. After what felt like rummaging a closet filled with black robes, I finally reached the entrance to Snape's dungeon. I sighed; it was Draco Malfoy and his cronies again, pissing Harry Potter's head off. This time, they had these eerie green pins that say "Potter stinks".

"Ugh. Just as I tho-"

I ducked just in time to miss a spell that bounced off another one. 'Looks like he finally got to Harry', I thought. I turned to see where the spell hit, and the sight horrified me: Hermione Granger's teeth were growing at an alarming rate. I rushed to her aid but someone bumped me hard on my shoulder, and threw me sideways. It was Ron, who then tried to comfort Hermione. An amazing amount of anger filled me, which made my body shake with rage. Hermione had played a huge part in my stay here in Hogwarts, and I am not about to let anyone harm her - especially that git Draco Malfoy. Infuriated, I wheeled around to Malfoy's direction and started towards him. But before I could reach him, a familiar voice boomed in the corridor; Professor Snape has arrived. Harry and Ron explained what had happened, but being the biased professor that he was, Snape asked Malfoy for an explanation. He gave Harry and Ron detention for something like "disrupting classes" and "causing riots during class hours" (which, by the way, literally means 'I hate you, you disgusting filthy little brats'). To add fuel to the fire, he dismissed Hermione's state. The idiot insisted that he 'saw no difference'.

I turned once more to Malfoy's direction, shot one last infuriated glare, and proceeded to the dungeon. The class had barely started when a first year came for Harry, something about him being a champion for the Triwizard Tournament... a pictorial, I think. Snape still had that look of loathe in his eyes as he dismissed Harry. As the class carried on, I found it hard concentrating on the lesson; my whole body shook uncontrollably. 'I was so close... I could have clobbered the bastard... Then again, it was a blessing in disguise: I didn't get detention.' I sighed. Sorrow replaced anger. I never got detention... not once in my four years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Why? Because no one ever noticed me. I was a regular student, a regular Gryffindor doing fairly well in her studies, and a nobody beside the Golden Trio. Hermione is a good friend of mine, though. She was my only friend, in fact. That's why Malfoy's "little accident" had a huge effect on me. She always gave me a sincere smile every morning at our room, sometimes helped me with my assignments, and gave me words of encouragement every now and then. But, whenever Harry or Ron appears, I slump in the shadows once more - unnoticed and invisible. I had always been like this, and somehow satisfied with my present state. I have lived my four years in Hogwarts this way, and though it pains me to say this, this maybe the way I live for my remaining three years at Hogwarts.

Soon, I was aware of the scraping noises of chairs and the rustle of bags; I glanced around and saw that the class was over. I cleaned my desk and headed to my next class, but as I walked through the corridor where the commotion started earlier, a voice came out of a dark corner.

"I saw you."

I froze. I knew to whom that voice belonged; my mind just couldn't accept that fact. 'Why is he here? Was he following me? What does he want?' My mind raced as I searched for possible answers. Whatever it was, it was nothing good. 'If he's gonna attack me or anything, I better be prepared.' I straightened myself up, and turned to where the voice came from.

"Excuse me?"

From a dark corner emerged a tall figure with silvery blonde hair, gray eyes and that distinct smirk on his face. He walked towards me slowly, and looked at me as though he was thoroughly amused, with his eyes dancing in the dimming torch light.

"I said, I saw you. You were looking at me, and it was not a nice look."

He stressed the last two words, then made that annoying grin even more pronounced.

"I would like to know why."

His mocking tone completely irritated me. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the peaking anger in me that might burst any minute. Breathing deeply, I replied.

"Wanna know the truth? I was about to beat the hell out of you. But, it seems today's your lucky day." A lust for infuriating him swept over me. Before I could stop myself, I had blurted out the next thing I thought of. "Oh, wait a minute. Don't tell me I scared you?"

He stared at me darkly for a brief moment, then recovered with a cruel laugh. "Me? ME? Scared of YOU! Beat the hell out of me, eh?"

He laughed out again, then gave me a defiant stare. Slowly, he approached me.

"I think..."

The distance between us was getting fewer and fewer, feet by feet.

"That the one..."

I backed away. He was still walking.

"Who should be scared..."

I felt the wall on my back. He wasn't stopping. My mind became blank. I started to panic.

"...is you."

He finally stopped, barely inches from me. The torch light illuminated his face, and as I racked my brain on what to do, I started noticing a few things that I hadn't seen before - like the way his magnificent gray eyes shone in the little light from the torch above me. How smooth his cheeks seemed to be... how distinct his facial features were... how his thin lips were inches from mine. I couldn't move. I didn't move, because I didn't know what to do. Should I push him away? Should I slap him? Should I spit on his elegant face? I knew I had to do something, but at that moment I didn't know what it was. He leaned forward slowly and brushed his lips to my cheek so gently. His soft lips trailed from my cheek to my ear, then whispered,

"Well, why don't you tear me to pieces now?"

His warm breath sent shivers down my spine, as I gasped in surprise. Then, I had finally deciphered what my mind what telling me: I was afraid. I was afraid of him. That's why I couldn't react, why I couldn't move. After coming to my senses, I gathered my remaining strength, pushed him as hard as I could, and ran away. Anywhere was ok... just to be away... away from him...

I didn't attend my last class that afternoon, as I ran straight to the common room. I threw myself to my bed, and hoped that the sight of him would disappear. But, even as I lay on my bed that night with eyes closed, hours after, I still could see him clear before me... I still felt his lips on my face... I could still hear his menacing laugh echoing in my ears...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I followed her. I just had to. Why? Let's start with those glorious minutes before Potions.

It had always brought me remarkable pleasure to annoy Potty and his gang, and unmatched delight to see their pissed off faces. This was one of those few moments when Potter, with all his glory and honor shunted aside, gave in to me. I was utterly shocked when that stupid goblet spit out Potter's name. Once again, the lime light was on wee beety botty Potter; he always gets all the attention he needs to fill that big fat head of his. So, in retaliation, I had shown the trio my new pins, which said "Support Cedric Diggory, the Real Hogwarts Champion".

"That's not all it does. Look."

And we Slytherins pressed our badges, which glowed green with the words "Potter Stinks" in the dim light of the corridor. The look on their faces was priceless! Back then, Potter hadn't budged yet, so I went on ranting in the mudblood business again, (which, mind you, is one of my favorite topics). When I teased the mudblood, that's when he snapped. He pointed his wand at me threateningly. Tuh! As if I'd be scared of him. We cast spells at the same time, and they bounced off each other. His spell hit Goyle, and my spell hit the mudblood (Ha!). It seemed that luck was definitely on my side that day.

Then, I saw her.

She looked at me with a stare filled with unmistakable anger; a stare of pure loathe. Although I've seen Potter give me that look many times, hers was somehow...different. Rage was radiating from her...like light from the torches that surrounded us. She stirred something inside me, which I really don't know what it was. All I know is when she approached me, I was stumped. My heart was beating fast, and my lungs were suddenly short of air. Barely a few feet away from me, she turned to her left: Professor Snape had just arrived. Overwhelming relief came over me. 'That was too close'. It was a good thing I had recovered myself when the Professor asked me what had happened. Naturally, I told them my side (which made Potty and his gang look bad, of course). And, as usual, the Professor believed me. I always had a high regard to Professor Snape, being loathsome and all to Potty and his gang, and for giving me such power. As I laughed my way inside the dungeon, I turned to look if she was still looking at me. A part of me wished that she wasn't, but another begged that she was. And she was. She gave me another infuriated stare, then she went inside. I shook my head and pitied the girl. 'Another Potter fan,' I thought. Too bad, because she was - different - from all of them, which made me doubt if she was even friends with Potty. 'Why bother? Why am I suddenly so interested in this low-life? She's a nobody. Wait a minute. That's it! She's a nobody. Why must she stare at me like that? Who gave her the right to stare at Draco Malfoy like that?' My mind was made up - my ego was trampled. Nothing can spare her from my wrath now. No one has ever trampled on my pride. And that's why I waited for her; why I followed her.

I stayed in that dark corner for a while. And when she was in view, my heart skipped. I don't know why, but it did. Maybe it was excitement - in letting her feel my vengeance and all. I always felt a tinge of excitement when I am about to break a rule, or to annoy a student, especially when it's Potter that I am about to annoy. I steadied myself, and called on to her. She stopped. I couldn't tell what her reaction was as her back was turned to me, but I did hope it was fear. However, when she turned to face me, I couldn't see any trace of fear in her face. Eyes blazing, she told me that she was about to beat the hell out of me, and that I was lucky that I escaped. Truth shone in her eyes, and not arrogance. My insides squirmed with an enormous rage, but I calmed myself down. 'Not yet, Draco. Later.' I laughed at her "attempt" to piss me off. I needed my revenge. I wanted it so badly, that I could anything to get it right that moment; even if I had to curse her to pieces. So, I came to her. I pinned her to the wall. And then, I saw her stir: there was panic in her eyes. Deep inside, I was smiling broadly. It was my chance.

I could have cursed her right there and then, and left her writhing in pain. I could have just slapped her, or spit at her face, then burst out laughing. But I didn't. Under the torch light, I saw her differently. I couldn't help but notice how her rich black hair shone in the dim light... how her illuminated face seemed too smooth and soft... how delicate her full lips were, even as they quivered with fear. She was fragile, and she was different. I stared at her as I never did to anyone else. The sight of her sent goose-bumps all over me. Suddenly, I had drifted away from my own thoughts. I closed my eyes, leaned forward and kissed her smooth cheek ever so gently. 'Wake up, you fool!' I came to my senses. I trailed my lips towards her ear and whispered. I heard her gasp, felt her shiver; it made me satisfied. I had succeeded. After that, she pushed me hard and ran away, while I laughed out loud. I gained power over another wretched soul. I laughed for my victory over her. But at the back of my mind, I knew I had to see her again. I knew that I had to stare into those dark brown eyes again, maybe soon. Somewhere inside me, I knew she was different.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It's been weeks since he had cornered me that afternoon after Potions, but I can still hear his menacing laugh echoing in my ears. I could still picture him vividly in my head everytime I closed my eyes: his gray eyes staring at me mockingly, his lips smirking, his breath sending thousands of shivers all over me. I loathed him even more for what he did to me - for what he had made me into. I hated him for the fear he implanted in my brain, for now, I feared him even more. I was afraid to be looked at again by those piercing eyes; afraid to be touched by him who had fixed in me such strong terror, that I feared even his mere presence.

I tried to be unnoticed (which was really an easy thing to do, since no one ever gave me a second look) everywhere, everytime, by everyone. I stayed in the library for hours, surrounded by books that I don't even read. I went to my classes alone, ate my meals at the farthest point in the table, and went back to the common room alone. I even stayed clear from Hermione, which pained me the most. She did, one day, noticed my strange behavior and asked what was going on. I was so thankful for that question; finally I could tell someone who cared about me - finally I could release all that burdened me for the past few weeks. But alas, things were not as good as they seemed to be. Harry and Ron suddenly entered the common room, and once again, I had sulked in the shadows, invisible once more. I tried not to cry every now and then to prove my strength to myself, and yet I still gave in some nights when the pressure was too much to handle. I needed someone: someone who would cradle me in his arms and tell me everything will be ok; someone who sees me even when I don't want to be seen. But no one ever did. No one ever saw me.

'But no, someone did,' my mind told me one day. 'He saw you. He said so himself.' But I had shoved that thought away.

'He saw me alright. And what did I get? Retaliation. Fear.

'The point is...he saw you. He noticed.

'He doesn't care. Why would he? He doesn't care... right?'

Feeling crazy from these thoughts filling my head, I went out to the lake. It was Saturday then; I had done all my assignments (though not with ease) and was quietly thinking in the common room, when these thoughts came to me. I felt I needed a break from all the thinking, so I went outside and sat by the lake, feeling the cool breeze caress my arms. As I watched the ripples forming in the lake, his face burst clear in my mind once more. I tried to shake it off, but he was still there. So, I tried imagining him 'less fearfully': I imagined him smiling at me - a smile that didn't have any trace of mischief or mockery; just a simple smile of happiness. I laughed sarcastically, telling myself that my chances of seeing him smile at me like that were like the chances of Hermione Granger failing an exam. 'Get a grip, Hannah, you stupid prick.'

"Daydreaming again?"

I jumped from where I sat after hearing that only too familiar voice behind me. I knew it was him again, so before I stood up and faced him, I braced myself. 'Well, if he's gonna insult me or try anything crazy, I'm not gonna let him do that again'. I stood up and faced him. He was arrogantly standing a few feet away from me, arms crossed and still had that irritating smirk on his face. It was exactly how I saw him every night in my head.

"Mind your own business, Malfoy. Leave me alone."

That taunting smile of his widened. "You know, dear, that attitude of yours won't get you anywhere but near trouble."

Immeasurable anger filled me again. I was fit to burst.

"What's this? Draco Malfoy lecturing about attitude? Speak for yourself, you bastard."

I gave him a defiant look, and then marched towards the castle. But before I could get farther away from him, he grabbed my arm and stopped me. His grip was tight around my arm; I could feel searing pain from his hand.

"I'm not finished talking with you, brat."

I faced him and saw him stare at me darkly. I felt a tinge of fear coming to me, but indifference took over.

"You have no power over me, Malfoy. Now let me go."

His grip on my arm tightened, and I squirmed in pain. I yelled at him to let me go, but he didn't. I panicked. 'Why isn't he letting go?' I felt my hand going numb, and saw pure hatred in his eyes. The fear I had kept to myself for so long had burst open; I was terrified.

"D-Draco, please l-let go of my arm... D-Draco, I-"

I was ready to beg for forgiveness, because the pain was beyond what I could handle. Tears were already forming in my eyes. 'Please stop. I'm begging you, please-' He looked at me, and for a second, I thought I saw pity in those gray eyes. But that moment had done as soon as it came, and he glared at me with such anger, that I trembled with fear. Before I could do anything, grabbed my waist and neck, and kissed me.

Eyes wide with shock, my whole body had shut down. I couldn't move. With his lips crushing mine, at first I felt nothing - then, anger filled me. I pitied myself. I felt used; I felt dirty. I could have slapped him with my free hand and could have escaped immediately but I didn't... I couldn't. Suddenly, all the pain, sorrow and anger I had felt for the past few weeks overwhelmed me. He really did have power over me, and I gave in to him so easily. I closed my eyes as I let tears flow freely down my cheeks, just as I slowly let all my strength leave me. As suddenly as he had grabbed me, he let me go. I let myself fall from his arms and on the ground. My head spun wildly and then, I felt nothing.