Life's Not As Glamorous As It Seems
Prompt: Glamour charm
Category: Short
Word count: 1249
Disclaimer: Still don't own it. Darn. And I put in such a high bid at the auction, too...
"Bellus concealo," I whispered, voice hoarse.
I pulled the sleeve of my coat back down over my now seemingly unmarred left arm, trembling horribly. How could I have forgotten to apply the glamour charm this morning? How could I, despite having been in a terrible rush, have forgotten to do the one thing I always did, no matter what? Now he of all people had seen it...
"Merlin," I moaned, banging my head against the door of the bathroom stall. "Why me?"
I muttered obscenities under my breath in time to the pounding of my head on the door, as well as the pounding of my heart.
My heart was racing.
I... I assumed it would have healed... Salazar, it scarred.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, tightly shutting my grey eyes, and trying to block the image of the word 'Mudblood' on Granger's arm from my mind. I had to suppress it. Just like I did every memory from the war. I had to pretend it hadn't happened. I had to pretend she hadn't fallen into me, that her sleeve hadn't slipped up, that I hadn't just caught an eyeful of... that.
I entered the coffee shop. It was the newest addition to Diagon Alley, and everyone was raving about it. I figured I may as well give it a shot. I glared at the man leaving the shop who gave me a dirty look.
Yeah, yeah, I'm a big scary Death Eater. Can we move on from that? It's been five years, for Merlin's sake!
Sighing, I rapped sharply on my head.
Keep your temper under control. Keep your cool. Stay calm, and everyone else will follow.
Reciting inwardly the words that were drilled into me by my, ah, psychiatrist, I didn't pay much attention to where I was going. That is, until a small frame rammed into my chest, forcing me to look down. A witch, hair flying into her face, fell backwards towards the floor.
"Woah, careful there!" I exclaimed, catching her by the arm and keeping her on her feet. Something caught my eye, and my gaze travelled to the arm I was clutching. My heart stuttered, and my vision narrowed in on the markings on the woman's forearm.
The girl looked up at me, horror on her features.
"Granger?" I said hoarsely, unable to put together full sentences.
The now much too familiar witch shook her head, backing away as she pulled her arm from my weak grasp. I watched her desperately, feet glued to the floor, as she rushed to the ladies' room.
After spending a solid twenty minutes locked up in the loo, I decided to brave the coffee shop once more.
Hopefully he took his drink to go and is forgetting we ever saw each other...
Crap.
I stopped a few steps outside the restroom door, cursing any and every choice that had brought me to this point, ranging from deciding to leave the restroom all the way to going to Hogwarts.
The blonde ferret was sitting at a small corner table, a drink in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room.
I turned around quickly, heading straight back to the restroom. There was no way I could leave without him seeing me, and I seriously was not in the mood for a confrontation. As I grasped the handle of the door, a strong hand closed around my forearm.
I twisted quickly, glaring at my assailant.
Glaring right back at me was Draco Malfoy.
"Granger," I grimaced, trying to keep my voice and eyes void of emotion. "We... need to talk."
She pulled her arm away roughly, looking stubbornly away from me.
"No, we don't. Get away from me, Malfoy, or I swear I'll curse you to kingdom come," she growled from behind straight, even teeth.
I forgot... They got fixed after I screwed them up that one time... Why am I thinking about this right now? Why?!
I ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes.
Calm down. If you get angry, she'll get angrier. Be nice.
"Hermione. Please. I'll buy you a drink?"
Opening my eyes, I nearly laughed at the bewildered expression on the witch's face.
"What? We're adults. Can't I be cordial?" I smirked.
Her brown eyes wider than her red-lined circle of a mouth, she slowly nodded.
"That would be...fine, I suppose."
I nodded back at her.
"Excellent."
Whatever would Ron say if he could see me now? I thought, rolling my eyes inwardly. Drinking coffee with Malfoy? Is there any end to this absolute nightmare of a day?
This would be a lot easier if she would look at me, I thought, hands gripping the edge of the table forcefully. I can't apologize if I can't look her in the eye.
I sighed, folding my hands on the table. Time to man up.
"Well, first off, I need to... I need to apologize. I never knew that the cuts Bellatrix made with her dagger hadn't healed over. I jumped to the conclusion that they had, but clearly there were some spells on her knife I wasn't aware of."
She still didn't so much as glance at me, but I plowed forward. I was probably digging my own grave, but it needed to be said.
"I'm so sorry. For... well, for everything, to be honest. Is it that hard to believe that I've turned over a new leaf?" I said, irritated at the smirk that turned up her mouth.
"Yes, in fact, it is," she said cooly, meeting my eyes at last.
"What's it going to take to convince you otherwise?" I demanded.
She looked at me, studying me for a time, then turned away once more.
"I haven't seen you in years. You were a bully. You tormented me and my friends. You were a Death Eater. You hurt everyone I care about. I've heard nothing about you for five years. Then suddenly you tell me you've 'turned over a new leaf' and I'm supposed to trust you, just like that?" Granger said calmly, stirring her coffee.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.
"And no more questions about the bloody scar," she said firmly.
I couldn't help it; my eyes drifted to her left forearm.
"You're not the only one who was scarred by the war, you know," I muttered.
She paused, looking up at me.
"It's... not normally visible," she admitted. "I use a glamour charm daily. I just forgot this morning."
I nodded, relieved that at least Bellatrix hadn't placed a charm on the dagger to prevent coverage of scars made by it. That made me feel a bit better, at least.
"Mine can't be hidden by a glamour charm," I said, rubbing my arm ruefully. "There are properties to the spell that prevent the mark being hidden by magical means, considering followers are supposed to be 'proud' of it."
"At least yours was of your own volition," the girl muttered under her breath.
I looked at her sharply.
Screw controlling my temper.
"You think I wanted this frickin thing?" I hissed, nearly sounding like a snake. "You think I wanted to be branded? No! So shut up!"
She looked shocked, but it quickly morphed into curiosity.
"And no follow-up questions," I warned, picking up my dragon-breath coffee.
She closed her mouth, nodding.
Well, at least we've come to an understanding. No speaking of scars.
We sat there quietly and drank our coffee.