My first shot at HP fanfiction. Inspired by the song, A Billion Bees, by Kevin Devine.

Thinking
Quote, or in this case, something close enough to the quote that I don't feel comfortable saying it's mine.

The night the Headmaster was murdered changed my path in a way I had not foreseen. In my mind, I was supposed to be number one in the Dark Lord's army by now, not bottom of the list in Potter's. When did things change? I wondered as I reached the lake shore and wandered aimlessly around it's lapping edge.

After the deed had been done, I was jinxed by the Weasley critters and locked up in a cell until Potter managed to get a hold of himself. And you should know things are not going well when a Weasley manages to jinx a Malfoy.

I remember the look on the nitwits when Potter told them to back off. "He didn't do it," he'd said quietly. "Snape killed Dumbledore. Malfoy did nothing." His words were as shocking to me as they were to everyone else. I did nothing. When did things change?

As I turned from the lake to make my way back inside the halls, I found her sitting - no…grieving - in the grass, on a shady spot among the green, her red and gold somehow camouflaged by the dark green trees. I lay my eyes on her for a moment, but not to look at her, no, not to look; only to determine the best route to avoid her without being noticed. The sky bled water color blue.

But as I glanced at her face, buried among that unruly mass of golden brown, I saw her for the first time. Not the know-it-all, the best in class, the brave and valiant friend. I saw her; so simple, sure, and sad.

My feet moved of their own accord, for I would clearly have never approached out of my own free will. Magic must have been involved. She took notice of my intrusion when I was only a couple of feet away, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight that filtered through the clouds. I shifted left to block the sun and she stopped her squinting only to replace it with a scowl.

My legs folded under me and I found myself sitting by her side, unnerved and waiting for someone to strike. I wanted to get up and walk away, I wanted to tell her to sod off and take it to her room, to jinx her hair into line and make her cry. But I could not phantom any of those thoughts any longer than it took for a part of me to shut them off. When did things change?

She crossed her legs and cleared her throat, and I waited for her words to come. Anger or disappointment, even outright self-righteousness would have done a fair job. But they slept soundly in her chest and never once made it past her tongue. Shadows shifted on the green lawn that sprawled across from us, the passing clouds fickle in their shape, the wind picking up speed as it flowed throughout the open land.

We sat silently and still, and after a while my body slackened and my thoughts wandered to other things, to every thing I'd done. And all the people that I'd loved, and all the people that I'd wronged. My family would never be the same. The Malfoy name now traitorous to both sides of the battle. Would they be safe? Would they wait for me to come back to them? Insecurity had never been one of my flaws. When did things change?

Somewhere along the line I had lost control of things. I lost control of the events that led to where I now was. And even now I was losing control over myself. Couldn't even keep away from a sad little thing like her. I risked a glance at her face once more, only to end this silly tirade and make myself walk away. But as I touched on her amber eyes, I watched the years pass through her face.

Irritation and resentment took a hold of my disobeying emotions. Why did she have to look so miserable? Dumbledore's death was unfortunate, but if anything it should make their cause stronger. Everyone would be united by the loss, and they would be that much more powerful against the Dark. Why did she have to look like she was forced to murder all she loved?

I locked my anger in my lungs, holding it there along with the air, denying their release. But as every breath stung more and more, I felt a wave of whips across my spine, feeling faint and weak, and then my mouth betrayed me and exhaled, setting the lively rhythm of breathing back. I'd had enough. I'd get up now and walk away, pretend this little meet never occurred. But then it all changed.

I watched her fingers sneak towards mine, her breath now thin and short. Surprised and annoyed, I looked up for more clues, wanting to read those expressive browns, but they hid behind a curtain of curls. I reached with my other hand, fearless, and tucked her hair behind her ears. There were a billion bees trapped in my chest. Every breath she took, nails on a chalkboard every time.

Her eyes, now exposed, darted back and forth, here and there and up and away. And once again, uncontrolled, my body leaned in towards her own, angry and demanding, but of what, I did not know. I closed in on her, my nose now inches from her own, and her conveying eyes latched on to mine, and there was no turning around. I grazed her cheek with the back of my palm, and her eyes closed, annoying me even further. I wanted her to look at me, to look and tell me what was happening in her own mind. I leaned closer until our lips touched. I sucked her lip, willing her to make me stop. As I moved down and bit her neck, the trees were shaking at their roots.

And then I felt a soft, warm finger lace through mine, make it's way towards my hair and settle on the nape of my neck. My angry arms fell, cool and calm, as if a switch had been turned off. I moved my mouth to hers again, and noticed how cautious it seemed in comparison with my forceful tone. We kissed, if that is what you call kissing. Intimate and revealing and raw and exposed. And my cotton mouth was well with hers, until once again we both needed air, and we fell back on the tender grass as we took up the task once more.

After a minute or a day, our lips stopped moving and settled comfortably by each other, red and swollen and proud. I looked up to her eyes again, somewhat afraid of what I might find, and found her eyes closed and her face settled on a small smile. I closed my own and tried to only feel the wind blowing gently by. Feel nothing and everything at the same time. Her fingers found mine, and we lay glowing in the grass, until we watched the sun swap with the moon, and we traded our future for our past. The present tense was all we knew.