I own nothing.
Just a spare thought running around my head....It's freaking long, though...If only writing an essay for school was this easy...
My fingers traced the rim of the nearly empty glass on the rustic bar. My posture was less than what my mother would expect, but sitting on an uncomfortable stool for more than five minutes guaranteed that all aspects of haughtiness would disappear.
The barman, Thom, dragged his dirty dish rag along the bar not even pretending that his effort would provide a clean drinking space- but no one in the bar paid attention. The ale patrons were either drunk-ly yelling at each other or too drunk to realize that they weren't speaking at all.
A small TV in the corner behind the bar made it possible for me to feel the person sit beside me before I heard them.
"What are you doing here?"
Ursula Hernshaw stood in front of her parents while a loud horn sounded throughout the gate, telling everyone on the gate that they had five minutes to board the train.
Ursula looked around her, at the other families and children who were leaving for Hogwarts for the first time, too. Most were taller than the petite eleven year old, with bolder hair. But what she lacked in both height, and actual describable color other than "mousey brown", she gained in pride. Her already pointed noise stuck slightly higher in the air, showing the world her tiny nostrils that matched her tiny self.
A taller, but equally proud man dressed in a silk robe stood in front of her- not kneeling down to hug his only child like most of the other fathers did on the terminal. Not even the mother, an almost carbon copy of Ursula except for the height, bent slightly to pat her child to say goodbye. Ursula didn't mind, though. The other children were weak- they needed to be reassured that their parents loved them and would still love them after they left for a couple of months- Ursula was positive her parents loved her and she didn't need to reassured that they wouldn't forget her name. It was preposterous to even think that they would, and Ursula felt weaker for even making fun of that thought in her mind.
"Be the top of your class," Her mother told her. It was more of a command than her expressing a wish. "And don't get a detention."
"Remember, Ursula," Her father spoke for the first time. His voice was deep and dignified, as if he spent his childhood with Professor Higgins. "Hernshaw's are only as good as their dignity."
The small Ursula nodded her head and picked the handle up from her trunk and left to get onto the train. If it were possible, Ursula stuck her head up higher as she handed her trunk off to a train attendant and walked down the aisle of the train- other first years would have looked for an empty compartment- too scared to sit with someone unknown. Other first years also hugged their parents, Ursula thought sully to herself.
She picked the third compartment to her right and opened the door- only to find herself with someone she already knew from countless summer parties.
"Ursula Hernshaw," Draco Malfoy said smugly from his seat nearest the window. Two other students sat in the compartment - Ursula knew who they were too- but she didn't like them enough to address.
She also knew that the only reason he said her name smugly was because her's was more ridiculous than his and the blond brought this up at every chance.
"Draco Malfoy," Ursula said, sitting down as far away from the plump boy gazing out the window as possible. "I had half a brain to think they wouldn't allow you to come to this school- then I realized they didn't make you take an academic test to be accepted."
"Ursula- how embarrassing- no one invited you to sit in this compartment and it was RSVP only," He shot back. "Although I don't know of anyone else would accept you- you're prudeness is quite contagious."
Ursula shot Draco a snide look, but kept her mouth shut. There was no way for her to reply and keep her dignity- and like her father said, she was nothing without her dignity.
"I could ask you the same question, fraternizing in a muggle place" I said, my fingers traveled off the rim and onto the handle, so I could drink the last bit.
"You could but you won't," My guest said. In my peripheral vision I saw him motion Thom with a raise of his hand. Internally I laughed- he was helping our conversation be smaller.
After he ordered a plain water with clear disdain- I could only guess he didn't order anything stronger because he had no knowledge of outside alcohol- I pushed my own glass forward.
"Here Thom," I scooted backwards. "I'm turning in for the night."
"Already?" He said rather surprised. I was hoping he wasn't going to bring up the fact that I usually have three drinks and then I leave- or that I hadn't given my new guest the infamous three sips of talking time before I told them that their pick up lines were mediocre at best and were only setting themselves up to be old and lonely. "Don't you want your third drink?"
Damn.
I could practically feel Draco's smirk as Thom smiled and refilled my glass with the multi-tap. He was always entertained with how I turned men down- and I wanted to mentally tell him that tonight's rejection was going to be a lot different.
Ursula sat with her spine in a straight line until the nape of her neck, where a slight incline former downward. Her shoulders were pushed back as one hand held the parchment in front of her and the other wrote words that explained the difference between an incantation and a spell. The only other person in the common room sat right beside her, no doubt trying to cheat- but her own arms insured that any word he'd get would be from standing behind her.
Neither perked their head up as they heard a giggle emit from behind them and the slam of the door that lead to the outside hall. In fact the blonde lowered his head further, hoping that neither the new arrivals in the common room nor Ursula noticed. Ursula did, like she always seemed to, but didn't lead Draco on to her knowledge until the arrivals kept giggling right up the stairs to the dorms.
"The brainless are still asking you if you are the heir?" The incline in her neck disappeared, and was replaced with a turn of her head towards her companion.
His less perfect posture followed her suit and he looked into the clear brown eyes of Ursula Hernshaw. Of course, he had to look downward slightly- she hadn't grown at all since last year and unlike all the other girls in their class who were at least two inches taller than the opposite sex, Ursula was still at least an inch smaller. But Draco knew, just like everyone else, that Ursula did not stick her head up high because she liked stretching out her neck- he'd never met anyone that could take on his own pride.
Which is why their bitter confrontations in their first year turned into a well developed friendship by the end of the year feast. That didn't mean that the confrontations stopped though, they only turned from bitter to teasingly.
"And they won't bloody take no for an answer," He said tiredly. He had been asked at least ten times a day since the first message was written in blood upon to word- even from upperclassmen in other houses that he wasn't even sure existed in any census until the moment before.
"Do you want me to insult them into isolation?" Her question was asked in such a way that if the tone was the only thing to be taken seriously, Draco was sure she'd have been asking if they could get ice cream after they finished their essay. She always asked questions in that way, though- and Draco knew she was quite serious too. Ursula had a gift with words- even a simple "Hello" could bring a third year Hufflepuff to tears. Although, that wasn't much of a feat in neither the blond nor the brunette's head.
"No," Draco said without much thought as his head turned back towards the almost empty parchment on the cherry table. "It's not a bad thing, people thinking I'm the heir- I bet I could get a firstie to write this essay."
We sat in silence for most of the time, him sipping his water diligently every five seconds to occupy his time. If he was going to sit next to me after years of no communication, did he really expect me to keep a conversation?
I could feel Thom's eyes on me further down the bar- silently asking why I wasn't shooing this bleach blonde fellow away from my presence like Cleopatra. I didn't talk to him either- which left me to drinking my last glass like Draco.
I had one swig left when Draco unexpectedly grabbed the glass away from my fingers that were still tracing the rim and took the last sip himself.
I hadn't fully looked at him till then- and as I turned my head with a readable expression of disgust, I realized that he wasn't the sixteen year old I left. He had grown into his lankiness, put on a few pounds (of muscle, if his plain black t-shirt was any indication). His cheekbones were still prominent, but his jaw line stood out more in the way that any Victorian would have wished. The infamous blond hair was the same though- it was his pride and joy, and I knew that if I even dared to try and touch it now, he'd have me in a jinx faster than I could raise my hand.
Draco put the glass onto the grimy bar before turning and looking at me, a curious expression upon his face.
"Root beer- you're still the control freak aren't you?" He asked me, fully looking at me. I wondered what he thought- if he thought that I wasn't the sixteen year old that left.
"What are you doing here Draco?" I asked him icily, my posture straightening up. A Hernshaw was nothing with out their dignity.
"This is not the place to discuss this," He said lowly, his eyes not leaving mine, while his arms motioned towards the rest of the beer establishment. "Here in this muggle place."
And before I could even protest- that this "muggle place" had been my home every weekend for the past eight years and I didn't want to leave yet (although it was untrue, I had every intention of relaxing in my bed a few minutes before), Draco grabbed my skinny wrist with a force that slipped me off my stool, and we headed towards the door.
As soon as we walked two steps to the right of the door of Thom's Pub, where there wasn't a window, we apparated.
"And why did you turn down Marcus Flint?" Draco asked amusedly as he and Ursula walked along the shops of Hogmeade. Draco knew for a fact that Ursula had been asked by more than one guy to Hogsmeade that weekend and Draco also knew that more than one girl had been giving him the "eye" in hopes that they'd be asked by him.
"He's a seventh year!" Ursula exclaimed disgustedly as they stopped in front of a shop- as they peered in, they saw countless jewelry being displayed on the walls. "He should not be so desperate for a date that he has to subtract four years from his own."
"Besides," She continued as they left the store front and continued their fall walk. "Do you honestly think I could have a more stimulating conversation with him than I could with you?"
Draco laughed as their hands seemed to be gravitationally pulling towards each other. If he studied Ursula close enough, he couldn't see any real difference in her appearance as opposed to the last time he saw her. She was still short- maybe an inch or two taller than the previous year (but that didn't matter as he still towered over her), and her hair was the same color. Albeit, over the summer she had a slight fringe added to frame her face more, but it stayed the same mousey, unsuspecting brown color. Her eye color didn't change either, and neither did her face. It was odd- unlike every other girl in their class; she had not one blemish to call her own, which explained why she didn't even bother with any make up of any sort.
He knew for a fact that she woke up five minutes before breakfast and got dressed, then left the dorm room.
And while her personality stayed the same, Draco couldn't figure out why she suddenly was more popular within his own sex. He certainly didn't want to be grouped into that, though. He had no desire to spend even more time with the petite Hernshaw than he did at the present- she had too big of a vocabulary for him not to carry a dictionary at all times and a dictionary was a very heavy thing to lug around.
Besides he had his eye on a certain Slytherin in their year- a Pansy Parkinson had the best face out of all his admirers and she had the largest brain to carry a conversation without overpowering his own statements.
I looked around the library that we had apparated into- books filled out oak shelves that objected the view of the actual walls. There were two library ladders attached to the shelves that reached up to crown molding of the ceiling. I could tell from the slender light difference of where we stood as opposed to the other spots in the room that behind me were large windows, letting in the moon light.
Draco left my side, almost throwing my hand away from his and walked over to a leather armchair in front of the first library ladder- a sister chair was askew his, an oak side table with a lamp between the two. He motioned for me take the sister chair. I did so hesitantly.
"What were you doing in that place?" He asked, with an over exaggeration of disgust directed towards "that place".
"I'm quite sure your answer would be shorter."
"There was a rumor that you frequented there," He said quietly, almost ashamedly after a few seconds of silence between us. Draco had actually gone looking for me? "But I want to know why those rumors were true."
"It's in the same town that I ran away to," I said simply with a shrug. The look on his face told me that a shrug was not going to satisfy him.
"You went to a muggle town?" More disgust.
"A wizarding community would be the obvious place you death eaters would have looked for me. I knew that if I remained completely muggle for a couple of months, you wouldn't find me."
He didn't look happy with that statement.
"You do realize there were at least twenty members who had the task of finding you?"
"They must have all been as stupid as their leader, then."
The missing look of anger on his face left me puzzled. If I had said that sixteen years before, I certainly would have been the owner of a black eye- but now he looked like he almost agreed with my statement. I wondered if the disgust I had heard before was really directed towards the muggle aspect, or the fact that I had chosen to runaway in the first place.
"And you decided to stay there after the war- you do know how that ended, didn't you?"
He was patronizing me, I could tell, for the fact that living a complete muggle life meant that I had barely any news from the wizarding world. But I wasn't cut off; I still knew a few things.
"Yes, to both your questions- I also know that you weren't the one to kill Dumbledore."
A dark shadow crossed his face; a dark subject crossed his mind.
"That was a terribly selfish thing for you to do."
Draco Malfoy had both his hands on either side of Ursula Hernshaw's face. His dress robes slightly touched her royal blue dress, and excluding her giggles and his smirk, nothing else disturbed the corridor.
"So did you have a good night?" He asked, lowering his face towards hers. Unlike Pansy, her giggles weren't out of nerves. They were completely controllable and Ursula needed to be in control.
"Draco, you and I both know that you'd be doubling over in pain if I hadn't."
He smirked as he lowered his lips onto her perfectly pink ones, they themselves held a smirk and it seemed like a perfect fit.
"Are you glad you that Drumstrang boy that his robes were far too baggy for you to even consider him as a possible escort?"
Her eyes looked up at him with a minor twinkle, before Draco asked her to the ball, she had reduced that boy to stammers as he tried to politely and quickly escape her eye line.
It was almost a surprise that he had asked her at all, the night before Pansy had gone on about how their robes were being dyed to match. But the next morning, instead of the darker haired girl- Draco asked Ursula to talk outside of the Great Hall during breakfast.
Instead of glancing down at his shoes, or twiddling his thumbs like she'd seen so many nervous boys do before asking a girl to the ball, he looked her straight in the eye and plainly stated: "We both know this match was going to happen, let's stop avoiding the obvious and go with each other."
Other girls wanted romance to be present in their proposal- Ursula didn't want to waste time.
She answered him by tilting her head forward a little- both to ease the pressure off the bobby pins that kept the curled tendrils in place and to reach the lips that felt like they were meant for hers.
They didn't part from each other until they heard a curt "ahem" from their left. Breaking apart, Draco stood a little ways away from Ursula when he saw who caught them out of bed after curfew.
"What are you doing here?" Snape drawled, looking at the two teenagers before him, without any real curiosity- no matter what the answer was, he was still going to send them back to their dorm.
"Giving a public display of affection, sir," Ursula responded with utmost seriousness. Draco had to restrain himself from laughing out loud, while he wondered wildly how many points she'd have lost if it weren't for the fact that she was indeed in Snape's own house.
"They thought you were dead a long time ago," Draco said harshly before adding quietly, "I thought you were dead."
"They also wore pointed hoods and blindly followed a maniac's bidding, no matter how insane or impossible." I sifted slightly in my chair. A stray thought reminded me that if I hadn't run away; I could have called this room my own too.
"You didn't say goodbye," Draco said accusingly, as if that was the only promise I ever made.
"Draco, you were forced upon your path, and you followed it. I still had some ways to go before I walked onto yours. I could still choose, and I chose differently." We sat in silence for some time- his eyes didn't even cross any part of my body.
"You need to brush your hair," Draco stated dully as his fingers trailed through Ursula's locks. They sat upon the French love seat, her back against his legs. She drew her legs as close to her body as she could. Instead of retorting anything back, she made an agreeing noise and let him continue running his fingers through her hair.
He had every right to be annoyed, his own father was rotting away in a cell and his mother had gotten too attached to her only son. Her own parents had "tsked" her for going over to his house, for fraternizing with someone who had slipped on the totem pole. But Ursula sat through her father's patented "dignity" speech to sit on the couch with Draco while he criticized her.
"I got a job at a card shop," I explained. "It took a while for me to get used to not use magic for every little task- but I now know what it feels like to earn something. I feel stronger."
He still didn't look at me, but his voice was louder than before- a good sign, even if the things he said weren't. "Our views of strength are noticeably different."
Ursula watched Draco pace around his dorm from underneath his comforter, knowing very well that no other boy would walk in and catch her in her night gown- he had kicked out his roommates years ago.
His frame was thinner than ever before, his forearm still the most delicate thing she could touch on his body. She couldn't say he changed completely; they still had their arguments and enjoyed vocalizing their superiority to others- attributes he'd held before he got the mark. But she couldn't say he was the same either, and that frightened her.
For the first time in their relationship- he was the one to block out the other. He was the one to build a shield, and she was no longer in control and she had no idea to how to get it back. Any time she questioned him, he never responded and simply walked away.
Ursula was far too deep in their relationship to get angry on her way towards worriedness, she was just worried. True to form, it wasn't for him entirely either.
She knew she was next after him. She'd be the one to shut him out, to lose weight and pace around even though he'd be waiting in bed to cuddle before they slept.
Ursula watched Draco pace and knew she was virtually watching herself.
I tried to laugh at the situation Draco and I cornered ourselves into- another silence that was punctuated with an argument at whether or not having friends was an important factor in building a life.
We had left the arm chairs and managed to situate ourselves in front of the fireplace of his living room- the one that I had visited so many years ago. The flickering flame crashed against our faces as the silence dragged on- I wondered if he liked my hair without bangs.
"It's not going to be a revelation if you tell me you hate me," I finally told him. Our hands had gravitated towards each other like old times, but we didn't let them touch. I realized a long time ago he might never forgive me for running away from everything, for running away from him. I also dealt with that a long time ago, and dealt with the fact that I hated myself for running away from him.
We stared at the fire for a few more moments, cementing the hatred statement.
"Would it be a revelation if I told you that I still loved you?"
I turned my head slowly towards Draco, to his own face studying mine. In the fire light he was his sixteen year old self, the heaviness of his age was washed away.
Our fingers touched, lacing together- this time the few moments before our lips rejoined cemented the love statement.