Tonight, he is smug. Oh, he is so pleased. And it's almost a sin to her not to feel pleased, in turn.
His good mood came so rarely these days, and when it did, her heart would fill up with warmth towards him, and she would be glad.
But not tonight. Tonight is different.
He notices. He asks why she's so quiet. She doesn't answer.
She looks down.
He frowns.
He's suspicious, and she knows it. But she can't bring herself to meet his eyes, to fake a smile, reassure him that everything is alright; she's not upset, just tired.
He asks what's wrong. His fingers reach out to touch her hair. She pulls away and bites her lip.
His hand drops.
"Were you a part of this?"
There's no use hiding it now. She garthers her courage and turns to look at him. The look that meets her eyes is one of betrayal and disbelief. And thus her previously gathered courage goes flying out the window, as all the emotions she tried to contain behind sealed lips come flooding out.
Guilt. Anger. Defiance. Dread. Shame.
Hot, traitorous tears begin blurring her vision. She rarely cries in front of him, but tonight she does.
He knows the answer, of course. But he's still waiting to hear it.
"I'm sorry."
His jaw clenches and it's his turn to turn away.
"But at the same time, I'm not."
He looks at her sharply, and before he can say anything, she continues:
"You know as well as I do that He's back."
"I- "
"Don't!. say anything. Just let me finish."
She takes a deep breath. His eyes are burning her and she looks away.
"And if he's back, and I have no intention of deluding myself that He's not, things are going to change. I want to be prepared. "
He starts to say something, but she cuts him off again.
"Please, just let me say everything and then you can scream and shout at me as much as you want." His clenched fists hold the promise that he intends to do just that.
"I want to be prepared. That does not mean that I'm going to charge into a battle the moment the opportunity presents itself. In fact, I hope I'll never come anywhere near anything like that. But I can't be that optimistic. I can't just shut my eyes and hope that everything will be ok, like that toad would have us believe. I want to be able to protect myself and those I love."
She's twisting her fingers and wipes the stubborn tears off her face.
"I only joined a few weeks ago, actually. Barely more than a month," she shrugs. "They didn't even put my name on the list yet. I tried to learn some spells by myself. Some worked good, others - more complex ones - not so well. I needed help, but there was no one to give it to me. And uhm, Luna... she just suggested that I come for a meeting, just to see if I would like it. She said she learned a lot, but she swore me to secrecy and refused to tell me anything until I promised not to tell anyone. I got curious... so I agreed and went with her. And it turned out... to be so great." She smiled involuntarily. "So I went again. And then again. Soon Luna would just pick me up whenever there was a meeting. And you know... I don't regret it in the least."
"Perhaps you would have, were you down in the Hall with the rest of them, carving lines into your flesh," he growls. Then he stands up and crosses the room, running his fingers through his fine hair.
"That's okay. The whole thing about wanting to be able to protect yourself - that's okay. That I understand. You know what I don't understand? What absolutely kills me in this whole situation? Aside from the fact you lied to me, of course." He turns to face her, and there is so much anger and hurt in his eyes, she averts her own and studies her hands instead.
"Look at me!" he snaps. She winces but does as he says.
"What kills me is that you chose to betray me. Instead of asking for help of me, you went to Potter, of all people," he spat.
She frowns. "You wouldn't have helped me." But she sounds unsure.
"And what makes you think that?"
"You would've dismissed me, you would've..."
"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ASSUME THE WORST ABOUT ME?" He finally shouted.
"I don't! I just..." she's openly sobbing now. Damn it. "You just never take me seriously." In a rush of defiance, she blurts "Don't act like I was ever anything other than simply a source of amusement or a scapegoat, in accordance with your mood."
"Oh really?" he sneers. "Well, if I am so horrible to you then why are you sticking around?"
She looks at him for a long moment. She hates the answer she's about to give him, but it's the only answer she has. "Because I love you," she says quietly.
He looks at her and what feels like an eternity passes before he speaks.
"I would've helped you," he finally says. "And I would never dismiss you, especially not if you came to me with a request like that."
"Draco, I'm sorry..." she hates apologizing to him, it makes her feel so weak. But she can't help herself. "I'm so sorry. It was never about Potter or you, it was just..." she shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she repeats helplessly.
He sighs. "I'm sorry, too." His voice is so low, she almost doesn't hear him. Almost.
"You're... sorry?" These kind of 'confessions' didn't come often. And as insincere as she realized they probably were, she welcomed them all the same.
"Yeah."
Her relief must show on her face, because his features soften, ever so slightly, but enough for her to feel safe to step closer. She hesitantly puts her hand on his cheek and he places his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. She readily leans into him and he wraps his arms around her, putting his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. "I love you," he mumbles.
He rarely says those words to her, but tonight he does. She allows herself to indulge in this moment. She smiles and presses herself closer to him. He lifts his head and lifts her chin to meet her mouth with his. They share a soft, tender kiss.
They rarely share moments of tenderness, but tonight they do.