Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or the characters.-sigh-
Because of you
"Michelle?" A voice was calling me from what seemed like infinity away. It was so much easier to just ignore it . . . to absorb myself in my thoughts.
"Michelle, are you alright?" The mystery voice sounded worried now, asking if I was alright. Of course I was alright! Well . . . sort of. Either way, I'd better tell the voice that. Tearing my eyes from my empty plate, I immediately met a pair of concerned emerald orbs.
Harry. It was my younger brother's eyes who were so glazed over with concern; Hermione and Ginny, too, looked worried. Even Ron had stopped eating. Alright, it's Armageddon.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled, focusing my brain on the question at hand as I summoned all my energy to grant Harry a reassuring smile.
"Are you sure?" Hermione interjected. "I mean, you haven't been eating much lately and-"
"I'm fine, alright?" I snapped before the little know-it-all could reveal all my secrets. I should have known she'd notice. . . . My hazel eyes flashed with anger and it was then that I glimpsed Hermione's hurt expression; almost instantaneously, I felt my ire begin to fade. I could never stay mad at them for long and it wasn't as if they'd gotten me into this mess. . . .
No, Michelle, that was entirely you. Now, relax. Snapping at Hermione won't help you.
Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths and, reopening them, turned back to my confused and concerned friends.
"I'm sorry," I began contritely, forcing my eyes to meet each of theirs, "it's just . . . I have a lot of things on my mind right now. I didn't mean to snap at you, Hermione."
"That's alright." Hermione smiled softly before returning to her forgotten book, dismissing my apology easily.
Ron, seeing that all danger had passed, returned to his food . . . only Ginny and Harry still watched me apprehensively, as if worried I would suddenly spontaneously combust. I sighed.
"If it's something that's too much, I promise that I'll come to both of you," I lied. Lying was necessary for my job, though; I didn't want to hurt them anymore than I had to. Slowly, Harry nodded his head, now only Ginny's eyes were locked on mine.
I rubbed my temples. Why couldn't she just believe me like everyone else? I sighed, running a hand through my hair which she seemed to take as invitation.
"Michelle, are you sure you're alright? You don't seem like your usual self." She whispered, just in case any of the trio were still listening; you never could tell with them. . . .
"I know. . . ." My brain was churning . . . what should I tell her? Taking a deep breath, I decided on half the truth. "And I'm sorry about that, Ginny, I really am. But . . . I'm just worried – about the war, the attacks, Harry. . . ." I trailed off, glancing toward my brother, now engaged in animated conversation with Ron. Probably about Quidditch. . . .
"I know. I am, too," Ginny consoled, squeezing my hand gently. I attempted to smile but it felt as if it came out more as a wince. You don't know the half of it.
"I understand, Michelle," she continued, her face still serious, "really, I do, but . . . I need you to promise me something."
"And what's that?" I asked, cautiously.
"Please just promise you'll try and become yourself again, not just for Harry and I, but for yourself. I may not be a Healer, but this can't be healthy."
"But-"
She shook her head emphatically. "No, this-" she gestured at my forlorn-looking face and lank hair, my eyes devoid of their usual spark, "isn't you. Promise?"
I sighed, but managed a smile nonetheless. "Promise." And I was going to keep it . . . if not for myself then for Harry, for Ginny, for their well-being rather than my own. Otherwise, they'd just worry themselves sick.
Me . . . I didn't matter.
"Thanks." Ginny beamed at me, appearing appeased before turning toward Harry and Ron, engaging them in conversation about the next Quidditch practice.
I rolled my eyes – Quidditch again – allowing my eyes to wander the vast Hall, over Susan Bones, one of my Hufflepuff friends . . . and there was Luna Lovegood, who I knew through Ginny and. . . . A pair of gray eyes pierced mine, a pair of eyes that the mere sight of would usually have made my stomach do cartwheels. This same pair of gray eyes made my throat fill with bile, made me launch from my chair, grasping my stomach.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I murmured briefly to a concerned-looking Harry before dashing out of the Great Hall. . . .
I barely reached the abandoned bathroom in time to rush to the nearest stall and vomit the little food I'd had today. I continued to cough, tears racing down my face, gasping over the toilet bowl and, vaguely I felt someone holding my hair, brushing loose, sweaty strands from my forehead.
Once sure that I wouldn't relapse again, I stood up, casting a quick Scourgify on my mouth and robes. Spinning around, I cautiously inched out of the stall, wand out. You can never be too careful. . . .
"Whoa, you could take an eye out with that thing," he teased by way of greeting.
"What do you want?" I growled. I lifted my wand higher, glaring venomously at the blond wizard.
"What, I can't make sure my favorite girl is okay?" he taunted. I stalked forward, pressing the wooden wand against his exposed throat.
"I'm not in the mood for stupid games right now, Draco. I'll say this slowly – what . . . the hell . . . do you want?" He studied me for a moment, condescendingly until I let loose a second growl.
"Tell . . . me," I hissed, absolutely enraged by this point.
He shrugged, ever nonchalant. "I wanted to talk to you. Is that a crime now?" I narrowed my eyes, searching for a lie in his pale, perfect face . . . and found none. Stowing my wand in my robes, I beckoned for him to continue.
"I got some . . . interesting news from Blaise the other day." He acquiesced to my demand, his gray eyes never breaking from my hazel ones.
"Oh?" I retorted, face expressionless . . . yet inwardly, I cursed Zabini and his stupid, blabbing tongue. I'd tear his bloody tongue from his mouth!
"Yes. He said you went to see the Dark Lord with him."
"Yeah, but you see, at the time I didn't know He-Who-Must-Be-Noseless was him. Otherwise I wouldn't have come," I scoffed. Draco's eyes narrowed at the mocking term.
"You excepted. . . ."
"I didn't," I retorted. "He threatened me – told me if I didn't, he would have killed. . . ." I clap a hand to my mouth, looking quickly away from him.
"He would have killed. . . ?" Draco trailed off, raising an eyebrow quizzically, waiting for me to finish the sentence.
"You already know. Why do you need me to tell you?"
"Hmm . . . actually I don't think I do," he drawled. Hot, boiling rage rushed through my veins and I whipped around to face him, eyes blazing.
"You, Malfoy! He threatened to kill you! There – are you happy?" I screamed. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I continued to scream. "I gave up my life, my friends, everything, because of YOU!" I was barely aware of Draco's wide eyes, his apologetic expression. I could only crumple to the floor, sobbing. I didn't care anymore – I didn't care that I would fail my classes, that I would never pass my NEWT's. It didn't matter anymore – none of it mattered – except the fact that I would lose my friends, lose my friends because I wanted to save their enemy! That enemy who I was so helplessly infatuated with . . . God, I was so pathetic. . . .
Vaguely, I felt strong arms wrapped around me and I pushed them away, standing up to face Draco.
"Don't touch me!" I spat, but my tears continued to fall. Draco didn't say anything, just walked toward me, arms half-extended, face expressionless like a zombie. I backed up, backed up . . . until I felt myself hit the wall . . . and Draco was so close now, his breath brushed my forehead. God, I could almost taste him. I was malleable in his grip as he tilted my head up to face him.
"Michelle Black, you are an idiot," he began softly, brushing my tears away with long, pale fingers. "You didn't have to say yes, you know. I can take care of myself, I'm a Malfoy. We have our ways."
Feebly, I attempted to push his hand away, still hiccuping. "No, you're the idiot for believing that – my dad's not the one in jail, remember? - and don't think I didn't know that."
"Why?" His stormy eyes searched my face; I felt as if I was being X-rayed and it was all I could do to try and hide all the pain, all the misery . . . all the love I held for him, sure it was there, as plain as day, anyway. His eyes widened, my glistening orbs giving him all the answer he needed.
"Oh, Black. . . ." His voice was tender and I shied away, the spell broken. I couldn't take this. . . . When I spoke, my own voice trembled with barely-concealed rage.
"I. Hate. You," I hissed and made to rush out of the room. Almost immediately, his hand reached out to grab me by the wrist and whirled me around. I came to rest against the wall once again.
"Let me go." My voice was tired now and I made no move to free myself from his hold. I was weary, tired from all this . . . drama.
"No," he replied simply.
Then again. . . . "Let me go," I repeated, teeth clenching.
"No."
"Ugh!" I screamed. "Let me go! Haven't you ruined my life enough? You got what you wanted now why can't you just lea-" I was cut off as his lips heatedly crushed mine . . . and then, my whole brain turned to mush. His warm tongue slipped between my lips and I moaned in pleasure. Then . . . everything became a blur.
Moans of pleasure. . . .
Clothes tearing. . . .
Falling to the floor. . . .
Screams of ecstasy – mine and his – and Myrtle's own affronted shouts. . . .
Then, finally, blackness. . . .
I woke a few times more, barely aware of what went on – once, he was putting on his clothes, another time, he was striding along a hall, me in his arms, another of him laying me in a bed with hangings of silver and emerald.
And now . . . I blinked several times to find myself, still lying in that unfamiliar bed, sheets strewn over my naked body. Where am I – the Room of Requirement? I made to slip out of the bed, when I felt a strong arm encircle my waist, pulling me back into the warmth, the comfort. . . .
"You're not going anywhere," the strange man's voice said, still fuzzy with sleep. Slowly, I turned, to meet a pair of warm, gray eyes . . . Draco.
"Dr- Malfoy, what happened? I-" Slowly, the events became crystal-clear again . . . all that had happened, all that we had shared. . . . It felt like forever that we stayed like that, my eyes locked on the coverlet, his on me . . . until, finally, I looked up, venturing a small smile before burying my flushed face against his chest. I sighed, contended, as he wrapped both muscular arms around me. . . .
Well, at least there was one good thing about this mess, I thought, as he began to trail kisses down my neck. I have Draco. . . . And then, soon, I'll have my friends back . . . somehow. I'll think of something. But . . . I have Draco now . . . so hell, why not enjoy it?
Tilting my head up, I allowed him to plant a deep kiss on my lips, moaning in pleasure.
Yes, I will definitely enjoy this while it lasts.
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