A/N: Just a little thing I wrote in about ten minutes while listening to All American Rejects' 'Gives You Hell'. The lyrics belong to them. And JK Rowling owns the characters (except Violet) and setting. It would be really helpful if I could get some feedback on this as I've got a couple of chaptered fics and I'm not sure whether I should post them or not. So PLEASE review!
I wake suddenly, and as I realise something a huge smile spreads across my face. I swing my legs out of bed and check the time. It's eight at night, the dorm's empty and I grin again. There's a party in the RoR in about half an hour, and like shit I'm not going to be there. I jump in the shower then dress Muggle clothes – a tight black t-shirt with the words 'Pump Up The Jam' printed across it and tight grey jeans. I shove my feet into black-and-white chequered Vans plimsolls and instead of slicking my hair back, I just ruffle it up and let it hang in my face, flicking my fringe out of my eyes so I can look at myself in the full-length mirror inside the door of the wardrobe I share with my stupid best mate, Blaise Zabini. My face is still pale, but not as vampire-like it has been for the past month, the shadows under my eyes are all but gone, and my eyes themselves are clear, no longer clouded by guilt, sadness, hurt. I grin again and make my way out of the dorm and up into the main castle, heading for the Room of Requirement. When I get there I find the party in full swing; the Room's provided a dancefloor and strobe lighting – very modern, considering this is Hogwarts. There's a set of decks blasting out the latest in both wizarding and Muggle music to one side of the Room, and at the other there's a load of black leather sofas and a drinks table.
"Malfoy!" Blaise calls, raising a hand to attract my attention. He's got his other arm wrapped around the waist of a pretty Ravenclaw fourth-year. I grin as I make my way over to them, grabbing a glass of vodka and pumpkin juice – yes, we do have Muggle alcohol, thank you very much – en route.
"Isn't she a bit young for you, Zabini?" I tease.
"Never!" Blaise scoffs, squeezing the girl's waist. She giggles and I shake my head at them before heading over to talk to my fellow Head, Hermione Granger. She's a Mudblood, but since the war last year I've discovered that it really doesn't matter that much. She's a lot more loyal, a better friend and a lot braver. She may be an insufferable know-it-all, but that comes in useful sometimes – like when you've got a three-foot essay you're trying to complete at one in the morning when it's due the next day. She's looking very uncomfortable here, and I'm surprised to see her.
"Granger." I greet her over the pounding music.
"Huh? Oh, hi Draco." She calls me by my first name, but I call her by her last. It's a thing we have.
"You look a bit incongruous, Granger." I inform her. She glares at me.
"Well, maybe I'm just here to make sure no-one gets completely wasted and falls out of a seventh-floor window." I laugh.
"Fair enough. Do you want a drink?"
"No, I shouldn't –"
"Oh come on, lighten up." I say, grabbing another vodka and pumpkin juice, tasting it. "Look, that's practically all pumpkin juice, it's fine." I hold it out to her and after slight hesitation she takes it.
"Thanks."
"No hassles. Enjoy yourself, okay?" I add as I go over to replenish my own drink. Then, suddenly I catch sight of her. She's just come in, wearing a short black dress and high-heeled, lace-up boots, her long red hair spilling over her pale shoulders in perfect waves. She sees me looking and gives me a hesitant half-smile, with a sad look in her eyes. I smile to myself and look away, shaking my head. She wears it well. I stroll over to a pretty but nervous-looking girl with long dark hair and gorgeous sea-blue eyes. She's wearing a blue dress split to the thigh and I recognise her from the common room. She's in sixth year, I think, and her name's… Violet! I smile at her and hold out a hand.
"You dancing?" I say. She looks up, obviously startled, and bites her lip. Then a smile spreads across her face.
"You asking?"
"I'm asking."
"Then I'm dancing." Violet takes my hand and I lead her out to the dancefloor, where she proceeds to show off some of the best moves I've seen in a long time. Hell, she can even match me.
After a while, Violet heads off to get a drink and I'm half-dancing with a couple of other girls when I see her walking towards me.
"Hi." she says tentatively.
"Hi, Ginny." I say shortly. Her face twists guiltily and I smile to myself.
"Listen, I just wanted to –" I don't see why we're having this conversation over pounding indie rock n roll and I roll my eyes.
"I woke up smiling today." I interrupt. "Do you know why?" She shakes her head. "Truth be told, I miss you." I say, and a smile spreads across her face. I take a perverse pleasure in what I'm about to do.
"And truth be told, I'M LYING!" I yell, just as the current song finishes. My words echo around the Room, and all the people dancing around us stop, staring. I turn on my heel and walk away, clearing an easy path through the dancers, who part and stay parted. When I stop on the edge of the dancefloor there's a circle spanning almost the entire thing, with her standing on the opposite side to me. Suddenly, anger overtakes me and I turn, looking at her. She's wearing that heartbroken expression – the one she's done countless times, and the one I've fallen for over and over. I'm so angry – more so than I've ever been. I smile a bitter twisted smile, and I begin to speak. Quietly, but the words are clearly audible in the almost-silent room.
"When you see my face, I hope it gives you hell. When you walk my way, I hope it gives you hell. You deserve it. And Potter? He's a fool for thinking he's any different to me. He's worth a damn, and he treats you well, and you don't deserve him." And as if on cue, another song starts.
I go to find Violet.