I've been told that this chapter should be rated as apparently it could be triggering if you've experienced abuse before.
I've never received this complaint before as in my opinion it is very mild, but the last thing I would want to do would to be trigger someone
He woke up and sighed as he remembered. It was not an annoyed sigh, a happy sigh or any other conceivable sigh, just one that remembered what had happened and didn't feel about it. It was early; barely dawn, not that you could have noticed without any windows. The torches on the walls took the place of the sun, their glow beginning at sunrise and ending at sunset. The one next to his bed was just beginning to glow. Knowing that sleep would now be futile, pointless even, he padded over to the bathroom to take a shower. He enjoyed the cold water more than the hot water he would switch it to later. The cold water made sure that he was awake, alert and aware, the hot water made him relaxed and drowsy which was not a state he liked to be in. Unfortunately his body was now protesting to the icy jet, shivering violently. He smiled down and his quaking limbs, leaving it another few minutes before turning on the hot tap.
He emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist; his dorm mates were still awake, snoring in the blissful oblivion of sleep. He dried his hair and put on his trousers then went to the full length mirror opposite his bed, staring at himself, his white blonde hair, his silver grey eyes and his perfect milk white skin. Not quite perfect, he thought bitterly as his eyes strayed to his forearm. That mark would never come off, he didn't want it to. It reminded him of things that he needed reminding of. He winced as his eyes lingered on it, remembering the searing pain of it, burning him like no fire could. Despite this memory of pain he gave another small smile. What doesn't kill me, only makes me stronger. It had become his personal mantra over the past month, recited as many times as he needed it. Regularly.
He heard the sound of Zabini stirring in his sleep, soon to wake up. Draco quickly pulled on his shirt, making sure his shirt sleeves were right the way down to his wrists before Blaise pulled back his hangings. Most people would expect Zabini to wake bleary eyed, he did not. Only a few Slytherins did, only those who were incredibly stupid allowed themselves to linger in dreams once the real world had been remembered. Blaise was not stupid, too clever and observant for in own good in fact, not that this opinion was shared with Zabini. His sharp eyes and fast thinking had come in handy many times over the years. He nodded at Draco before heading off to the bathroom himself.
While Blaise had been in the bathroom Draco had styled his hair, perfectionist that he always was. When Blaise came back, already dressed, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were still asleep. Contrary to popular belief, Draco could have friends and Zabini was as close as they got. They exchanged a smirk and Blaise went back into the bathroom, emerging with three orbs of water floating in the air before him. Nott, although he wasn't a particularly light sleeper, always seemed to wake up at the exact right moment and jumped out of bed, now completely awake before he could be woken up. Draco, Theo and Blaise smirked at each other as the third sphere dropped from the air, vanishing as it hit the ground, while the other two also dropped, though those two did not vanish when they hit the two remaining occupied beds. Crabbe and Goyle never overslept at Hogwarts. They woke up choking and spluttering to find an empty dormitory, the other three occupants having retreated to the safety of the common room.
Breakfast was just as Draco had expected. Those people who had kept away him originally and some of those who hadn't before did now. By many he was ignored as before and by his fellow Slytherins he was accepted. Things rarely changed. Except there was a small change. The remaining Weasley looked up from the Gryffindor and noticed him, his white blonde hair was hardly the most difficult to spot, and then turned a shade of red to rival her hair. At first he hadn't been able to hear what she was saying but slowly the volume rose.
By the time he caught the words, "filthy fucking bastard!" the boy who had been sat next to her was forcibly removing her from the hall. As they went past the Slytherin table, her volume reached its peak. Even some of her fellow Gryffindors at the opposite end of the hall were staring at her outburst. "That Deatheater fucking PRICK!" the boy dragging her out of the room seemed to have told her to calm down as she exploded, "I will not calm the fuck down Dean! That disgusting piece of fucking filth is the reason Dumbledore is dead and that little shit is just sat there, not giving a fuck! He just doesn't care a crap! How dare that poisonous little fucking snake-" the boy finally lost patience with her,
"Ginny, just shut up!" he yelled, nowhere near reaching her volume but just about audible over her rage. She carried on unperturbed,
"just waltz back in here as though we're meant to have forgotten! How dare-" but before she could finish her sentence she had been dragged out into the entrance hall and out of hearing. Draco's face wore nothing but a faint smirk, as though he found the whole thing amusing, but it was far too easy for him to arrange his face to show sentiments he didn't feel. Weasley's words stayed in his head all through breakfast. "… the reason Dumbledore died… he just doesn't care a crap." If she knew…
Fortunately he had way too much self-control to let her stay in his head any longer. But it didn't mean he didn't still think about the accusations. Everyone was thinking them; it was just that Weasley was the only one to say it. It was bollocks, not that he'd ever tell them.
That night he woke from another dream, another nightmare more like, actually, just another piece of his life going on in his head. It was the night it had all gone wrong, the night Dumbledore had died. He woke up in a cold sweat with a burning feeling on his arm, like a reminder of something he had to do, of a task he had been set, of a meeting he had to attend. No, this wasn't right, it couldn't be. In panic Draco stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He pulled up the sleeve of his pyjamas and stared into the mirror at his arm. He sighed with relief then wretched, reaching the toilet just in time. After heaving up most of his dinner he wiped the foul tasting bile from his mouth and stared down at his arm again. Thank god. Never let something you thought when you were asleep bother you in real life. It let people know what your nightmares were. Despite it being about two o'clock in the morning he decided it was time for a nice cold shower; the best way to get rid of dreams. What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger.
Naturally the next day he was exhausted and very glad that Weasley managed to control her temper as he couldn't be bothered with another scene, although he often looked up to find her glaring up at him, livid and unashamed. He didn't care frankly. He didn't really care about anything much anymore.
"Draco what's wrong darling?" simpered Pansy anxiously. He did his best to fight a groan; even his worst would've stopped it completely. No emotion, no loss of control. "Draco, sweetie you can talk to me." She cooed, putting her arm around him and doing her best to cover every inch of his back with her hands and arms. Bollocks, he thought. Utter bollocks. Not only could he not talk to her, he did not want to talk to her. He couldn't stand the stupid bint. Honestly, she made such a fuss about their relationship. It wasn't even like they actually had one except for using her as a snogging partner every now and again when he got bored.
"It's nothing." He said simply and abruptly, hoping to put her off. She pouted like a stubborn toddler denied her way, which she was really.
"Draco darling?"
"Let's go to class. I don't want to be late for Potions." She pouted again but made no complaint as he made his way down to the dungeons. Unusually this was not true. He had no qualms about being late for Potions; in fact, he wanted to spend as little time around the Potions Master as possible this year, even less than he had last year. But he would rather spend time waiting around for Snape than with Pansy so with a sigh he went right down to the Potions room. He was surprised to see Snape there already, he usually turned up at the last possible moment for dramatic effect but today he was sat behind his desk already. Draco cursed in his head, why did this have to be the one day Snape was early.
"Yes?" the impatient voice cut through the silence and Draco did not dare keep Snape waiting. Not that he was afraid of Snape, there was only one person in the world that Draco was afraid of and it sure as hell wasn't Snape, but since Snape was still a teacher it would just be easier for Draco's continuance if he went to Snape when called. "Ah, Mister Malfoy…" Snape left it there, unspoken words hanging in the air between him.
Draco knew that Snape wanted to talk about what had happened over the summer but doubted that he would chose to do it now. Not in hearing range, Snape was too cautious, too clever. But he would not simply let it lie, they both knew that. They stared at each other, both trying to read the other with no success. Snape was a master at occolmency and Draco had been raised since birth to show no emotions. Not in his face or his eyes unless it so suited him, in which case they were usually false. There was the sound of footsteps from the top of the stairs,
"Very well then." Whispered Snape, "Take your seat."
In Potions there were an odd number of them so Blaise and Draco sat together, but they also had to endure the presence of Verity Bluestone. She was a very pretty girl with silvery grey hair and blue eyes who was (in Draco's opinion) a rather good kisser. Their "relationship" hadn't lasted long, she got too clingy. Blaise was the only Slytherin, only person actually, who Draco liked at all. Despite them both being sneaky, back stabbing Slytherins they were able to confide in each other. They had been friends since first year and so had by now accumulated quite a lot of blackmailing material. The only reason they could be remotely honest was because of this blackmail, Draco knew Blaise had far too much on him to even think of blackmailing Blaise and vice versa so they were able to actually have conversations in which things were talked about, not just alluded to like most Slytherin conversations.
Draco didn't really know or care what he had made in that lesson. He had done very well in it he was sure, what it was he couldn't begin to guess. This was partly because he just didn't care, and partly because he was distracted. Not nearly as distracted as Blaise however as Blaise was trying to ward off Verity who was refusing to give up on trying to get Blaise to ask her out. She would have to keep asking him for an awful long, however pretty she might be. Draco and even Blaise would've been lying to say they hadn't been at least slightly amused by this.
After several more lessons, which ones he didn't really give, it was time for lunch. Draco went through the actions of eating normally, still not a clue what he was eating or saying but no one really noticed much difference. Whatever he said to Pansy must have pleased/offended her as she left him alone until dinner, which he went through in just the same way. He was aware that he was completely different to how he had been last year, but none of his fellow seventh years seemed to have noticed a difference, or he would have believed this if Blaise hadn't been scrutinising him more closely than usual. Blaise was always doing that, it was how he kept ahead of the game, always knowing what was going on because he, unlike everyone else, could be bothered to look and then actually saw. And what he saw now was not your average Draco.
Down in the Dungeons in the Slytherin dorms Blaise listened and counted the breathing of his dorm mates that night, then drew back his hangings."Draco, you're awake." It was not a question. "What's wrong with you?" there was no denying it. If Zabini said it was wrong then that was it, no dispute. It was not simply because people were scared of him, although many were afraid of what dirt he had on them, he had dirt on everyone. It was because Blaise was right, and never said anything unless he was. Draco sighed, reclining against the extra pillows he had had sent up for him. He considered his answer with care. You didn't lie to Zabini but there was no way Draco could tell the truth, not unless he was sure.
"Show me." He said, sitting up suddenly. There was no need to ask what. Blaise stood up slowly, pulling up both sleeves to show that neither arm was blemished with the ugly tattoo that Draco had hoped not to find. He would not let his feelings show in anyway. He let out a small snort. "Of course not Zabini. You wouldn't make it there in a million years." Well controlled as Zabini was, with a crack like that he couldn't have been able to prevent himself from snapping if he had any ambitions at all.
However instead he took a small calculating pause, evaluating each word carefully, perfectly aware that the Malfoys had always favoured the Dark Lord. "Perhaps, or, perhaps not. Nevertheless, I do not intend to find out. I am afraid I don't have such ambitions." Draco gave him an equally evaluating look. Blaise was telling the truth, the look of slight nervousness on his face as he watched Draco receive his renouncement of the Dark Lord said it all. The master of forged expressions, Draco knew a genuine one when he saw it. He too sat up, after the bad dream of the previous night he had decided not to wear anything that covered his arms at night. He twisted round in his bed putting his legs over the side and held out both his arms outstretched for Blaise to see. Blaise's jaw dropped as he stared at Draco's arm. He stared at the ugly mark that marred his perfect skin in disbelief. After a while he managed to choke out, "Y-your arm!" Draco allowed a smirk to spread across his face and chuckled.
"Well noticed Blaise, yes my arm." Drawled Draco with a confidence he wasn't entirely sure he felt.
"But, but there's, no mark." He finished lamely his mouth still open. He turned to look at Draco's face, "You, you had a mark didn't you? I-I'd swear I saw it!" Blaise had never liked spluttering or stating the obvious, it made you appear weak, something he hated.
"Yes Blaise, you did see a mark, a real one. It was there last year. I got it off." Here Blaise's jaw looked as though he was going to dislocate it; so far did it drop in his mouth.
"You removed the dark mark? But, how the fuck did you do that? No one's ever done that! Ever!" Draco forced a chuckle again.
"You don't think I got this burn by accident do you?" Blaise's astonishment twisted into something close to disgust.
"You burned it off your arm? What spell did you use?"
"Don't be ridiculous Zabini, the Dark Lord has thought of every spell, every potion known to wizard kind, it cannot be removed with magic!" Blaise looked puzzled
"Then how did you get it off?" he asked perplexedly. A flicker of something passed across Draco's face and he swallowed, not looking at his arm.
"Known to wizard kind. A much simpler substance worked. A good dousing in hydrochloric acid works wonders you know." He said, disgust in his voice, a trace of revulsion on his face. Blaise looked faintly sick.
"You covered your own arm in acid? Why the-"
"Because it's the only way!" he exploded, finally losing control. "You'd have done it too, if it was you with that on you. You'd have done whatever it took to get that fucking thing off, you wouldn't have been able to stand it either!" Blaise sat on his bed quietly, staring at Draco, thinking things through. Suddenly the situation didn't look too good for Blaise. Friends they might be, but now he knew Draco's greatest secret, was he just going to be able to walk away with all limbs intact?
"Oh and Blaise?" Draco's voice was soft and low, his silkiest whisper with threat in every syllable. "If anyone finds out about my little secret, then everyone will find out about yours, then I won't have to make your life a living hell, they'll do it for me." Draco drew his drapes back around him and lay down, leaving Zabini on his own with his thoughts. Finally get some good dirt on a Malfoy and you can't even use it for blackmail. Typical.
Blaise was far from surprised that he had known nothing of this before. It was an unspoken agreement between them, and many other Slytherins in fact, that you don't really talk about Voldemort. Slytherins were either fanatics who boast of their upcoming initiation, or you don't really mention it. It's assumed that you will join and if you're asked you're very much looking forward to it, but you don't mention it, no matter how good friends you may be. That takes more than trust.
Draco was sat in the common room, pretending to read a book to avoid looking at Pansy who was desperately trying to catch his eye, something he was equally desperate not to do. Pansy really wasn't pretty. She had pallow skin and a flat face, not good. Especially when a very pretty girl was also trying to catch his eye from the other side of the common room.
Draco looked up at her and raised an eyebrow, she winked and got up to leave, gesturing him to follow. Usually Draco would never follow, only lead, but now he was perfectly happy to follow. She led him out onto the grounds before allowing him to catch up. She turned to him once they reached the oak tree by the lake and he pressed her up against it, a hand already up the back of her shirt, his lips fixing themselves to hers. Draco was able to forget all the shit that was his life, caught up in sheer lust for this girl and simply forgetting caused him greater pleasure than the kiss itself, not that that hasn't pleasurable too.
Just before going up to their separate dormitories Eva explained that she already had a rich, well connected boyfriend and wasn't interested in any kind of relationship with him, she was just bored. This suited Draco perfectly. He was more the kind of guy to go for no-strings-attached passion rather than having to belong to someone, that idea bored him. Eva was exactly perfect.
Ginny too had woken up on the first morning and examined her reflexion in the full length mirror on her wall. She knew she was attractive; she could hardly fail to notice what with the way all the guys looked at her, she just didn't really see it. Ah well. She had pale skin with a hint of tan, but a quite pale face dotted, no longer covered, with freckles. She had large brown eyes and thick lashes, unfortunately ginger in keeping with her mane of red hair. Ginny sighed as her eyes passed over her uniform. It was all too small and too tight, her blouse had obviously been made for someone with slightly smaller boobs than she had and the buttons were beginning to show it a little.
The only new uniform she had were the floaty black robs she wore which billowed slightly in the breeze, what she could really do with however was a new skirt. Even her hair was longer than her skirt; her skirt was more than a few inches above the recommended point while her hair went to half way down her back. Her hair was her favourite thing about herself, it was very red and there was lots of it. It was a huge mane filled with curls that tumbled over themselves in their eagerness to get down her back. It shone brighter reds and gold flecked auburns in the light. Unfortunately her hair reflected her temperament, she angered easily and her temper was a force to be reckoned with, should you be stupid enough to invoke it. Unfortunately someone had.
Whenever Ginny saw Malfoy she had to leave. Where ever she was, whatever she was doing, she had to get out of there. Weasleys had never been known for their good tempers and after spending her entire life competing with all of her brothers hers was probably the worst. She couldn't bear how easily Malfoy had just walked back into the castle after becoming a Deatheater and leading Dumbledore to his death. He may not have been the one who had cast the fatal curse but Snape wouldn't have been able to if Malfoy hadn't put Dumbledore at the top of that tower in the first place.
Her outburst in the great hall the first morning back had proved how ineffective all her efforts (not that she tried particularly hard) to control her temper were. Even a few weeks later she couldn't be anywhere near him without wanting to scream and kill him. She couldn't believe that no one else was doing this, why the hell not? No imagination is required to picture Ginny's reaction when she realised the seat she had picked in the library, the last seat, was right next to Malfoy. She couldn't leave, she had a history of magic essay to complete that should've been handed in two weeks ago; she needed to do it. Not that that meant it was easy keeping her temper in check. She just sat there for a few minutes, fuming quietly, her face going red from the effort of restraining herself and hissing angrily.
"Weasley do you mind? I'm trying to do my arithmancy homework here and it's rather hard to concentrate what with all the hissing." He drawled at her, not even looking up from his textbook. Ginny glared daggers at him and bit back a retort simply for the sake of trying to stay in the library. Instead she just hissed in annoyance and turned away. Malfoy looked up from his textbook again, "Weasley, are you deaf?" He asked her patronisingly, in the same voice one might use when talking to a mentally retarded toddler. "I thought I told you to stop the hissing. And anyway, I thought I was supposed to be the poisonous little fucking snake."
Ginny looked up from her work again, surprised that a) he had remembered what she had called him for even a second after she had said it, and b) that he was actually saying anything remotely negative about himself. But by this time he had looked down and seemed entirely engrossed in Numerology and Grammatica Grade 7.
She had finally finished her essay, or nearly, she was just doing the conclusion for "What were the main causes for the twenty-third goblin rebellion?" when she heard a shriek. "DRACO!" oh dear god. Pansy Parkinson was on the warpath. How could the entire library be so sure it was Pansy? No one else could elevate their voice to that pitch, only bats would be able to hear her if her voice got any higher.
Although not many people liked Draco Malfoy, they had to admire his courage. Instead of grabbing his stuff and fleeing like everyone else was doing, he just sat there, continuing to read his book, which frankly was not interesting at all. No one but Hermione could have the level of fascination in such a dull subject currently shown by Malfoy who was still diligently devoted to his arithmency homework. Within minutes of Pansy announcing her imminent arrival, only two people remained in the library: Draco, who was determinedly ignoring Pansy and Ginny, who was desperately trying to finish her conclusion.
"Draco!" the scream rang out again, but this time from only a few feet away. "Draco how could you! How could you cheat on me? We've been together for so long, and with that little whore as well! Draco how could you?" it seemed Draco could put up with much, but not Pansy's fake tears which were in danger of spilling down her face. Fake or not, no Malfoy could cope with a woman in tears, so he decided to act before having to deal with one. He finally looked up from his book, looked her straight in the eye and drawled,
"Firstly, I didn't cheat on you, mainly because we're not going out. Never have been and never will be." Screw her conclusion, Ginny decided now would be a good time to get the hell out. "Now if you'll excuse me Pansy but as usual, you disgust and bore me. Goodbye." Ginny had walked a rather long way around several chairs, tables and a couple of bookshelves before finally being on the other side of Pansy and able to head to the door. Draco got up to follow her out when Pansy pulled out her wand and screamed "Vinculum!".
The silver flash of light went right towards Draco's heart, with a flick of his wand he deflected it. Well, half of it. One half of it hit him, the other bounced back and hit Ginny right in the back of the neck. She hadn't noticed and tried to keep walking, however she seemed to have hit an invisible barrier and fell over. Pansy looked between Draco and Ginny, mouth open and eyes wide in horror. She let out a small shriek and fled, leaving the two in the library.
Draco was worried, very worried. Spells that hit and had in instant effect were easy, you knew immediately what they were and then you went and found someone to fix it. An unknown spell with unknown properties was hell. You didn't know what it did, how seriously it did it or how long it would take to do it. Draco decided to ask Pansy in whatever way would be the most productive, exactly what she had hit him with. He stepped over Weasley who was still sat on the floor and walked, in all appearance of calmness, out of the library. Or not. He had barely walked five metres when he too hit an invisible barrier and fell over, swearing fluently. He got up and began to walk around the perimeter of this wall.
Ginny was still sat on the floor, not because she couldn't get up, but because of the weird and stupid thing Malfoy was doing. He appeared to be walking in an exact circle around her. When he reached the point they had started from he stopped, looked over at her and swore again, even louder and with more vulgar language than before. "Malfoy what the bloody hell are you doing?" she asked, making sure her tone was more insulting than curious.
"Get up." He told Ginny. "You heard me you stupid bitch, get up!" Ginny was so surprised at this command that she did as she was told without thinking. Malfoy then proceeded to shove her a few feet away from where she had been. "Stay there, don't move!" He then walked around in another circle around her, his face getting angrier and angrier. Draco was sure by now what Pansy's curse had done but did not want to accept it. Now that Weasley had moved, so had his boundary. He followed it right the way around again, hoping that he would not have to face what he had feared. However, after completing the circle exactly five metres around Weasley again. "Shit!" Draco sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. "Shit." He swore again.
"Malfoy what the fuck are you doing?" asked Ginny, wondering if Malfoy had finally cracked. "Ah screw that, I'm out of here." She got up and walked away, but stopped as she heard Malfoy address her.
"No you're not Weasley." His voice was faintly muffled through his hands.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say? Cause it sounded a teensy bit like you telling me I can't leave." Said Ginny, her temper rising to boiling point at once. Malfoy took his head out of his hands, staring at her unblinkingly.
"In that case Weasley, you heard right. You can't go anywhere."
"And who the hell are you to tell me where I can and cannot go?"
"I am the one who is magically bonded to you, and yes you heard it right." Ginny stared at him for a full ten seconds. He looked deadly serious but she couldn't help herself but laugh.
"Yeah Malfoy, that's true." Her voice dripped sarcasm, but Malfoy just smirked.
"Fine then Weasley, you just walk six metres away from me. I dare you." Ginny glowered at him and walked off. One, two, three, four, five, thud. As soon as she had tried to walk past five metres from him, she had fallen over, landing painfully on her arse.
"Ah, shit! What the fuck?" Draco wasn't smirking anymore.
"Get up Weasley, and follow me." She looked to him as though she was going to resist, "Unless you'd rather be stuck to me forever?" he hadn't even finished his sentence before she had got up and was ready to follow him. Usually this would've caused him to smirk, but he really wasn't in the mood and simply set off out of the library.
Ginny had great difficulty in keeping up with Malfoy. It wasn't that she was unfit, but Malfoy was just walking so damn fast. Every now and again be would turn back to her, grab her arm and continue walking, dragging her along with him. She was so distracted with his insanely fast pace that she didn't realise where they were going until it was too late. There was definitely no way she would've allowed herself to be lead to the dungeons otherwise. They approached a large black door set in a dead end corridor with several people standing around it. This it would seem was the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
"You!" hissed Draco at a first year who looked as though he was about to faint in terror. "You, go get Parkinson. If she doesn't come then you will bring her to me."
The first year scuttled off, still looking absolutely petrified while Malfoy stood there, staring at the wall, face blank but obviously incandescent with rage. Although Ginny refused to be scared by generally anything, this was making even her a little nervous. Had Malfoy currently been yelling and hitting things then she would've been much more comfortable and just jinxed him. This cold, controlled fury was just a bit much to handle and Ginny found herself slowly backing away. As soon as she realised this she hastily corrected it, standing a little behind Malfoy, also waiting for Pansy.
As soon as Pansy came through the door Draco had her up against the wall with his wand out. Pansy let out a little "Oh" of surprise. "Out with it bitch, what did you do?" asked Draco in a perfectly controlled voice which was full of anger bubbling just below the surface. Pansy simpered and gave him a sickly sweet false smile that made him want to retch. He put his wand right up against her throat, pushing it into her neck so hard she could barely breathe. "What. Did. You. Do?" growled Malfoy in a voice of controlled anger.
Pansy suddenly burst into tears. Draco moved back from her quickly like he'd been burned, looking disgusted. Pansy continued to sob loudly, tears rolling down her cheeks. Malfoys can't handle tears. It just isn't who they are and this one was no exception. He stepped back towards Pansy and slapped her hard across the face. Instantly her tears stopped and instead of screaming she just looked at him as though mildly annoyed and pouted like a spoiled child. "That wasn't very nice of you Draco." He continued to glare at her, still looking slightly repulsed at her display. "Well it was worth a try anyway." She said in a casual, slightly bored voice.
"Is there any reason I can no longer moved more than five metres from Weasley here?" asked Draco, finally masking his fury. He knew it wouldn't get him far with Pansy, so he tried a different approach. Pansy looked up and suddenly noticed Ginny standing the maximum five metres from Malfoy and looked aghast.
"Five metres? To her? You're chained that close to this little-"
"Let's not forget who chained us together. Now either you tell me what you did or…" he smirked suggestively with half a glance at Ginny. Pansy got the message and looked even more horror-struck. She knew exactly how promiscuous Draco could be and had no opinion at all on the morals of a blood traitor brat.
"Okay Draco darling, I'm sorry, I really am so-" Her speech was interrupted by Malloy's wand restricting her wind pipe. She looked close to tears again. "I'm so sorry Draco sweetie, I just, I just," a tear escaped her eye and Draco slapped her again even harder knocked her whole head to the side.
"I'm not interested in your crocodile tears." Pansy straightened up again, all trace of tears gone.
"Fine then." She announced, her manner suddenly brisk and business-like, bristling with anger. "I saw you with that stupid slag Eve or something and I didn't like it. I want you back Draco so I thought I'd bind you to me, then we'd have to spend time together. But it went wrong and you're stuck with this little blood traitor bitch instead." Draco wasn't remotely interested.
"How do you get it off?" Here Pansy showed her first signs of actually being a little scared. She let out a nervous little giggle.
"Well Draco darling, you see, I wasn't really paying attention to that bit." Draco's fist swung forward and connected with Pansy's face and she fell against the wall with a whimper. Even Ginny couldn't stand back and let Malfoy beat Pansy to a pulp so she grabbed hold of his arm just as he swung it back to hit her again and dragged him back. He looked as though he was going to hit her instead, but simply took a few deep calming breaths and slipped the mask back onto his face.
"Come on. Let's get this bloody thing undone." What doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. Hopefully.