Hey guys! Yeah, so this might get really cheesy and just plain bad in some parts, but you gotta cut me some slack 'cause it's my first fanfic. Well, I'd love it if you'd review. Like, really, really love it if you did, but, alas, no one does. So just try to get through this and all reviews are appreciated, so just send me them (even if they're bad) and I'll take it into consideration. So, see ya! Happy reading!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or anyone familiar in it, and if I did, none of you would read it.
"What is this? What is this?" The words broke through the usually peaceful atmosphere of Hogwarts and reached me, jerking me out of my reverie. I peered around the corner and saw Argus Filch standing knee-deep in water. It sloshed around him and covered his robes. Mrs. Norris was nowhere to be seen. Filch saw me and pointed a dirty nail at me. "You!" he shrieked, "You did it!" I shrunk back and shook my head.
"Nuh-uh," I said defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest. Filch didn't scare me. His eyes bulged and he seemed to expand with anger.
"Then find who did it, brat! I'm tired of this all, and if you don't come back by six o'clock, I'll have you and your little friends for dinner!" he yelled at me. I rolled my eyes and slunk off to find the real culprit. Moaning Myrtle.
"Oh Myrtle! Lovely, (pimply) Myrtle!" I shouted cheerfully into every bathroom. I was near the end of the hallway, and almost done with my search of that floor, when I heard then unmistakable sound of someone sobbing. It was coming from the boy's bathroom. I reluctantly poked my head in, and what I saw, I will never forget:
Draco Malfoy was standing there, his tie loose and his hair rumpled. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and under his eyes were large, ghostly shadows. He had one hand pressed against his wand, as if he needed it to fight for his life any second. The whole scene just broke my heart.
Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't one of those empty-headed girls who followed Draco around and offered to do his laundry. No, Draco was an arrogant bully with no conscience and impossibly good looks, but that didn't matter when I saw him teasing first years or hexing teachers. But still, there was a different side to him. A fragile, vulnerable side that seemed to tear my heart right out of my chest. I stepped forward and whispered, "Draco."
He turned and pulled out his wand. "Get out, Mudblood!" he snarled, but the action was so weak I could hardly believe he was putting any effort into it.
"Shut up Draco. Your heart's not in it, and anyway, it won't do any good against the girl who scored an 'O' on her O.W.L.," I said, a little bit haughtily. He shook his head.
"Get out, Kennedy Turner," he commanded, and then leaned over to splash water on his face and throw up.
"Draco! Are you okay?" came the annoying voice of none other than Moaning Myrtle. Draco was trembling horribly. I put one hand on his shoulder.
"Draco, should I get help?"
"No!" he shouted to both of us. "Just get out of my life! Turner, go away. Myrtle, just leave!" His sides were heaving with the effort of it, but neither of us left. Draco collapsed onto the floor and began sobbing horribly. "I just, I just wanna be dead," he cried, burying his face in his knees.
I knelt down beside him. "Draco, will you tell me why?" I asked gently. He looked up.
"Has your father been to jail?" he asked.
"No, but-" "And has Lord V-v-voldemort assigned you to a task so dangerous that you can't eat or sleep at the mere thought of it?" he asked quietly. I was not a very patient person, so I spat out,
"Draco, just tell me why!"
"I'm telling you why!" he shouted, pounding a bony fist into the grungy tile. "Ouch," he muttered, rubbing it on his robes. I carefully took his hand into mine.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, rubbing his stinging hand. He attempted a smile.
"He's made me one," Draco whispered after some time. He turned his head towards me, and his blond hair fell across his face in a way that would have made Essence Goodwin (a big fan of his) faint. "He's made me a Death Eater," he went on, in that same injured tone. "And I have to kill-" He was cut off by Myrtle swooping down and embracing him in her icy hold. Or at least she tried to.
Her arms sank right through him, and he shuddered horribly, prompting me to swat Myrtle away. My hand felt like it was being doused in ice water, and I could only imagine what Draco felt. "Filch is calling you, Myrtle, and if you don't get down there, he'll curse your toilet," I said. Myrtle stuck her tongue out at me, smiled at Draco, and zoomed off to shout at Filch. There was nothing but the sound of dripping water for a second, and then I realized that I was still holding Draco's hand. I dropped it as if I had been burnt and scrambled to my feet. Thoughts swam around in my brain. Did I just hold your hand? Sorry, can't help you. Go to h-ll, Malfoy. Marry me!
I shook my head to get rid of them and stumbled out the door. "Sorry," I gasped. "Sorry," I repeated as Draco's face fell. When I was out of the hallway, I sprinted to the Gryffindor common room. I took a shower in scalding hot water, and then collapsed into bed, scrubbing myself to get rid of the desire. It was no use. I was in love.