Disclaimer: I own the plot, the OC, and the poem in the beginning. And that's about it.
Remember what I told you, remember what I said, remember all the words I uttered and all the things I left unsaid
Remember the unasked questions, the cryptic answers too
Remember what I told you, but forget what I what I put you through.
Remembering to Forget
It started out just like any other day - I woke up, got dressed, met up with Crabbe and Goyle outside the Great Hall, tormented some twitchy first years, then went to get a bite to eat. Yes, it started out normally enough, until I saw her.
Perhaps I should be a bit more specific. You see, there are plenty of "hers" around Hogwarts, and without further explanation, you would have no way of knowing which one of the aforementioned "hers" I was referring to. Well, I'm not willing to go into the details, but instead leave it like this - she was the last person I wanted to see, that day, or ever.
Before the meal started, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat in that all important manner of his. Not everybody looked up right away, as they were still waiting expectantly for food to magically appear before them. I was among these. Well, that and the fact the I believe Dumbledore is a soft hearted Mudblood lover unfit for the Headmaster position, but that's a story for another time.
He cleared his throat again, this time punctuating it was a loud BANG from his wand. Half the Hall jumped in shock, now thoroughly awake. Everyone's attention was on him now, even mine, although rather reluctantly. I think the only reason I payed any attention at all to what that Mudblood lover had to say was because Snape had caught my eye and shot me a warning glare. He began to speak.
"Thank you all for giving me your attention despite the protests of your stomachs. I assure you, the sooner I begin, the sooner you will all be eating to your hearts content. As some of you may already know," At this point I started drifting off, thinking about the Transfiguration homework that was sitting half finished on the desk in my dorm. When I did tune back in, I immediately wished I hadn't.
"So, in conclusion, she will be continuing her schooling her at Hogwarts, under the care of the Gryffindor House. I expect you all-" Blah blah blah. For the first time, I noticed that there was a figure standing shyly beside Dumbledore. And not just any random figure, either. No, it just had to be someone that I never wanted to see again in my life.
"What's wrong?" Crabbe leaned across the table in that brutish manner of his to ask. Apparently, he had noticed the morphing look of shock to anger that played on my face in a matter of seconds. I shook my head, trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling that was in the pit of my stomach.
"Nothing. Let's go. Now." I stood, leaving the food that had appeared untouched.
"But-" I suppose I must have whipped around and shot them a death glare, because Crabbe and Goyle both popped up immediately, shoving as much food as they could into the pockets of their robes.
We had gotten more than halfway back to the Slytherin common room before one of the idiots decided it was in their best interests to ask what was going on, what the hurry was, and why they hadn't been allowed to eat.
"Because," I snapped, not in the mood to waste my time explaining things to buffoons. "I said so." That seemed to satisfy them, as it always did. God, I swear, if they weren't so loyal... I don't know why I keep them around.
Upon reaching the portrait hole, and uttering the password (gloria draconis), I left Crabbe and Goyle in front of one of the stone fireplaces and stormed my way up to the boy's dormitory. Well, I would have stormed, but it is unMalfoyish to storm, and I am nothing but a Malfoy. I would have flopped down on my bed, too, but that as well is not in the Malfoy manner. Instead, I opted to, in a highly dignified manner, flop on the green and black sheets and rolled onto my back. Then I thought.
What is she doing here? I asked myself, trying in vain to produce a reasonable explanation to her unexpected appearance. Could it be that she wants revenge?
No, it couldn't be that. I told myself, as if attempting to convince some unknown figure that it was the truth. There would be no reason for her to want revenge.
Who are you trying to kid? Of course she would want revenge. What you did to her-
Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut UP! Things were different then. It wasn't my fault.
Is that what you're telling yourself to make it all okay now? Because let me let you in on a little secret - everything's not okay. It doesn't matter what kind of excuses you make to convince yourself that you didn't do anything wrong. You still did something unforgivable, and now you have to face the facts. It's all your fault that you-
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS RIGHT NOW!" I screamed, not able to take the mental argument for a second longer.
But you're going to have to, you know. It's all your fault-
" GO TO HELL!" The next thing I heard was a twinkle of glass as a porcelain figurine in the shape of a serpent collided with the wall. I must have thrown it, but in my blind rage I wasn't aware of my actions. I moved off the bed and went about the process of cleaning the broken shards, a menial task typically left to one of those good-for-nothing house elves.
As I picked a piece up to move it to the trash, it sliced my finger. I watched as the blood appeared in a thin line, then began to trickle down my finger and hand, finally slipping down to the floor. I felt pain, but payed it no mind. I observed the flow of fluid from the wound for a moment longer, before pulling out my wand and magically closing it.
This is nothing, I thought, This is nothing compared to the pain I caused her. When done with the task of cleaning, I moved from the floor back onto the bed with intents of sleep. Slumber came easily, but not undisturbed.