Well
open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn
you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love
love
-Jason Mraz I'm Yours
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, or any of the places in it. However much I would like to own Draco Malfoy and all of his delicious mhmm-mhhm goodness, I'm afraid that Mrs. J.K. Rowling already is in complete ownership. Lucky girl.
As far back as I could remember I had always been independent. I was my own person. Utterly and totally complete, thank you very much. And I didn't need anyone besides friends and family to ensure me of that fact. There was none of this "other half of me" talk or contemplating where I should look for my "Prince Charming". As far as I was concerned, Prince Charming better suck it up and start his gallant search for me because it sure as hell wouldn't be the other way around.
I was the Gryffindor princess, the Brains of the Golden Trio, and soon to be the most successful and influential Head Girl in all of Hogwarts history. I had everything I had ever wanted. My life inundated by my righteous thinking that only served to hide my inner turmoil. My head clouded with illusions that I alone could withstand the power of love and I alone could live without it. I was blind. But only for so long.
"beep beep beep" screeched the alarm clock as I shot out a hand from underneath the blankets and groped around on the bedside table. My hand looked almost disembodied as it seemed to act on its own accord, searching and searching until it successfully knocked the clock onto the ground. "Bloody hell," I moaned, slowly rubbing my temples "What time is it?" I rolled off of the bed, almost as unceremoniously as the clock had and crashed onto the floor as well. The clock lay next to me and let out one last blink of light, showing me 5:30 before it completely died.
5:30, that's the time that I always woke up at in Hogwarts. It gave me the perfect amount of time to get ready and look over the day's lessons before breakfast. Unfortunately, I had neglected my sleeping habits after I went home for the holiday. I groaned for the umpteenth time as I stumbled down the stairs and blessed Tom's heart as I saw the two steaming shots of espresso waiting for me on the bar counter. Staying at the Leaky Cauldron had seemed like the only practical decision. After this year, I was going to live on my own anyways. So I told mum and dad to go along and have their 25th anniversary in the Bahamas, and have a good time, I'd write to them when the got back, and miss them while they're gone, love you, bye! When the sad truth was that I really wanted them to see me off at Platform 9 ¾. So like a spoilt child, I told them what a good little girl would have said and blamed them when they accepted my decision.
Shaking my head as if to clear it of the past, I downed the last bit of espresso, tossed a couple of sickles on to the counter, and set out into the streets. When shopping for school, it's important to get in before the rush. So I slowly weaved through the still silent corridors of Diagon Alley picking up parcels here and there of important supplies I needed. Unfortunately, the silence only lasted so long. Diagon Alley soon filled up with people and well as other creatures I would identify if I wasn't so scared of them. All of them were very busy, very impatient, and very rude.
"Oy, move off there, you li'l runt!" shouted a man who looked almost dwarfed by the sack he was carrying on his shoulders.
He swerved to avoid hitting me, but missed my face by mere inches. The sack swung right under my nose and I caught the unfamiliar sent of what smelt suspiciously like…
"Hey! Those are Class B Non-Tradable goods!" I yelled as I pulled myself up to my full height and scowled venomously.
"Hey!" he sneered back in a mocking tone as he disappeared into the crowd, "mind your own beeswax!"
Shocked and insulted I stood rooted to the ground as I thought of a string of expletives that I'm not sure I ever learned. I swiveled on the spot and started angrily stomping away. My mind flew with angry exclamations "The nerve of some people, just waltzing away, pretending that the rules don't apply to them, well I can't tell them where they can stick that pretentious thinking. They can go ahead and stick it up their…" Distracted with my thoughts I didn't notice a boy walking in the opposite direction. Didn't notice until I was quite literally on top of him.
"Ooof" I gasped as I ungracefully shoved myself into a stranger's chest. Thankfully, he angled himself sideways, cushioning my fall as he fell against a brick wall. The result was that he we both crashed onto the wall and slid onto the floor with a resounding thud. Suddenly, all of my senses whirred to life. I was painfully aware of his arms, protectively enclosed around my waist, his breath, warmly fanning my hair, his chest, so hard and warm under my cheek, his…My eyelids, which had been drooping slowly shot open as I came to my senses. I immediately scrambled up, my cheeks burning up with embarrassment.
Color filling my face, I tried to form words but found that I couldn't will myself to speak any. After silently debating in my mind, I settled for a curt apology, maybe a gentle handshake, an offer to buy him coffee as repayment? But both my good intentions and my breath flew away as I raised my eyes to meet his. Toffee brown met molten silver. No. It couldn't be.
"Oh no" I whispered.
"Something wrong?" Draco asked as he gently tilted his head to the side, both curious and amused, "You seem familiar." I shouldn't have blamed him for not recognizing me; I had finally finished physically changing over the summer. And yet I couldn't calm the little flame of anger that had burst in me. Didn't remember me, did he? All those years of teasing and torture and incessant insults and he had the absolute gall to forget me? My head swam with wickedness to pay Malfoy back in kind.
"Why Drackiee-poo." I purred in sly amusement, "I can't believe you don't recognize me." I slowly dragged a finger down his chest, looking up through my lashes.
Draco visibly paled at the sound of his pet name. "Pansy?" he gasped inaudibly.
"No." I answered simply. And with a flick of my hair, I was off. Unfortunately for me, I was trying too hard to look good during my dramatic exit to notice that I was about to run into another wall. I had to abruptly sharply turn in order to avoid another collision, and this gave Draco enough time to catch me.
"Who are you?" he tried again as he lightly grabbed my wrist. But I wasn't going to budge.
"Not telling" I rebuffed as I playfully and stubbornly stuck out my tongue. Suddenly, his presence became even closer. He swooped down until he was eye-level with me and just inches away. Then he growled, "You better watch out for that tongue of yours… it might get… caught." A shudder ran through me and I slowly forced my fury to build up inside. I knew he was the Slytherin Prince of Hogwarts, self-proclaimed Sex God, and yet did he think that every girl would fall to her knees in front of his royal highness? One single word rang in my mind. "Prat". My anger grew like a fire until it threatened to implode from within, and then all of my energy channeled itself into my hand. And against my better judgment, and almost not under my control, my hand rose in the air and landed on Malfoy's cheek with a resounding "smack". I slapped him. Hard.
I left him in the middle of the sidewalk, as I stalked off, both out of anger and fear. I turned a corner and leaned against the cool brick, willing my erratic heartbeat to slow down. Only when I was sure he thought I was a good while away, did I dare peek around the corner to see what I had done. Draco was still in the same position I had left him in, standing still in the middle of a crowd of people. He had an amused expression on his face as he gingerly touched the perfect imprint of my hand on his cheek. I felt both a mixture of self-righteousness and regret as I gawked at my handprint. It seemed like such a travesty to put a glaring mark on his flawless face. I was supposed to enjoy slapping Malfoy, and yet once I had done it, I felt like I had gone too far. Why in the world was I regretting something I had yearned to do ever since I was a first-year? Questions swam through my head but one stood out prominently, weaving itself in and out of my thoughts, just often enough to make me cringe. It wasn't really a question, just a snide comment that my conscience had managed to dig up, "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"