"Are you sure you're alright?" Willow asked, concern lacing her voice. At least, that's what it seemed like she said-my head, ears included, was being enveloped by my pillow, with the hope that there was some kind of creature that lived in pillows and ate people's heads whole. Sure, it was a horrible way to go, but it's decidedly better to die a feathery, fluffy death than to be hunted alive by my classmates. Or talk to Malfoy.
"Mmph," I replied eloquently, my voice only slightly muffled by the pillow. I heard a sigh from above.
"Alright, then," Willow said dubiously, before walking away and, most likely, finding Millicent to talk to. I groaned and turned myself onto my back, frowning at the stone ceiling above.
I couldn't talk to Malfoy-there were too many risks. He could interrogate me and find out about my species. He could find out where my family lives. He could have them hunted and killed if he really felt malicious enough about it.
On the other hand, I couldn't not talk to Malfoy either. Exact meaning of my behavior aside, he still knows that I, at the very least, like the taste of blood. He could tell all of his friends in revenge for not talking to me, and, if they believed him, my family and I would still be hunted down.
Back to the first hand, who'd believe him? As far as anyone knew, I was, and am, the only vampire in existence who showed any display of witchcraft. Sure, they'd think that it was a weird blood obsession or something, but they wouldn't know I'm a vampire.
Returning to the second hand, it really shouldn't go out, because if it gets out then someone, namely Granger, will look at the bizarre jig-saw pieces of the puzzle most would call my existence and figure it out. Having Granger find out about my identity would arguably be worse-unlike with Malfoy, no one would dare try to prove Hermione Granger wrong. I swallowed and came to a decision:
Keep on deliberating.
-'-,-'-,-'-
"You're late," Malfoy said crossly as I exited the common room at a quarter past twelve. I looked back at him, a little scared. Even leaning back against the wall with a bored sneer etched on his face made him look threatening. I'd only gone in the first place because my choices were "maybe let my identity out" or "definitely let my identity out," but being late, combined with the scowl on his face, made me reconsider the safety of my secret out here.
Well, too late to turn back now.
"S-sorry," I replied shakily, swallowing slightly. I could hear my heart beating, echoing in my ears as I stared at my nonchalant, if not annoyed, impending doom. Malfoy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he pushed himself off the wall with his back to stand upright.
And now he's at his full height of doom. Crap.
"Yesterday, you bit and licked a wounded finger of mi-"
"Isn't it two days ago?" I babbled, trying to avoid the inevitable. "After all, it happened on Wednesday, and it's midnight on Friday now, so-" I was cut off.
"Does it matter?" Malfoy said harshly, his tone made of ice so cold I shivered.
"N-no, I guess it doesn't," I said, looking down at my feet. I heard him breathe out, annoyed.
"Why is she so stupid?" he muttered in a manner meant for the person in question to hear. I looked up, trying my best to not let my fear show and just glare.
"I'm not stupid!" I protested. Malfoy rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"Just tell me what in Merlin's name is wrong with you, Mudblood? I don't want you stalking me now that I've been on the receiving end of your fetish." I twitched. Okay, he'd been more straightforward using "fetish" in the letter than I had thought. And he didn't suspect me of being a vampire, nor being anything than just a Muggleborn in Slytherin. But still…
"Says the boy I've been avoiding since the incident! And before it, actually!" I snapped, letting all of my pent up anger lose. Seven years of whispers and taunts, of wondering whether they knew about me or just thought I was weird, of exhaustion and anger and frustration, were let out in mere seconds. "Merlin, you act as if I'd been stalking you since First Year! Not everything that happens to anyone who attracts your eye is about you, you-"
I would have said more if it weren't for two things. The first is the more obvious from the context, I suppose-I realized exactly what I had just seemed to say and caught myself before embarrassing either of us further. A pureblood, a Malfoy no less, fancying a Mudblood? Preposterous, at least in his mind.
As for the second…
Malfoy cut me off, slamming one hand to my mouth and another around my wrist. The wrist of my wand hand, I realized, swearing mentally. Then I remembered that which hand he had handicapped didn't matter-I'd left my wand in the dormitory by accident.
I'm an idiot. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.
I considered opening my mouth to bite his hand, but as I ran my tongue over my teeth in preperation, I realized that they were still ungrinded. They were sharp enough to pierce skin now, which was, on whole, not good considering there was a ripe, juicy human right in front of me, fresh for the picking.
Fortunately for both aforementioned human and I, I was scared to death of the human, so the likelihood of blood-sucking was rather low. Particularly when he was glaring at me that meanly.
"No one," Malfoy started, taking full advantage of the difference in our heights to intimidate me. "makes a fool out of a Malfoy. Get it straight, Way-I will never be interested in a stupid Mudblood like you, romantically or otherwise. It is the Malfoys who 'attract the eye,' as you say, not people like you." And he swept back into the common room, leaving me in the corridor alone. I would've noticed the instance he called me "Way" instead of "Mudblood," but I was too relieved to still be alive to fully notice.
-'-,-'-,-'-
"Where were you last night?" Willow demanded, arms crossed as I passed her on the way to the showers. I looked up at the girl, plastering a fake expression of confusion on my somewhat-glad-to-see-this-morning face.
"I was in bed," I replied, scrunching my eyebrows together. Willow narrowed her eyes.
"No you weren't. I saw you leave at around midnight." Crap.
"I-I was using the toilet," I returned, only slightly shaky. Willow raised an eyebrow.
"An hour after previously using it without having ingested any other substance in the time between?" I hate being in Slytherin sometimes.
"I had a glass of water on my night table. I drank from it just after you left me alone, and eventually I thought my bladder was going to explode. So I got up to pee." I didn't stutter and I was proud. A perfectly believable lie. The invisible party of congratulations in my mind was interrupted by Willow saying:
"You're lying. You didn't have a glass of water by your bedside. I saw your nightstand before I went to bed."
I amend my earlier thought-I hate being in Slytherin altogether.
"I-I…um…" I stuttered, all steam gone.
Crap.
"Where were you last night?" Willow repeated, closing in on me. I saw the corners of her mouth twitch slightly and I relaxed slightly. She wasn't mad-just curious and worried.
"Mal-…do you remember what I told you yesterday?" I asked, trying to avoid Willow's eyes. I heard a gasp.
"Merlin, you made a move on him already? I'm so proud of you!" And I was being hugged. "Oh, this is fantastic-you're going to make history! The first non-pureblood, and the first person to have no magical ancestry whatsoever, to marry into the Malfoy family! Just wait, soon you're going to be introduced as 'Mrs. Ebony Malf-'" I pulled out of Willow's embrace and shushed her.
"It's not like that!" Though Merlin knew how much easier my life would've been like the past few days had Willow's inaccuracies been true. But then again, the truth wasn't believable in the slightest, and I had no desire to let anyone else find out about it. As my friend leaned closer with a teasing grin, I found it hard to keep a smile off my face in response.
My fancy of Malfoy true or not, it was fun pretending I fancied someone. I could almost forget about being a man-eating entity that was essentially "playing with her food," so to speak.
"He wanted to talk to me about something. It wasn't romance related though," I said eventually, looking away less out of embarrassment than in euphoria. This is what it was like to be a normal (or at least more normal than me), boy-crazy Hogwarts girl, and Merlin, was I enjoying myself. Willow certainly caught onto the vibe and squealed.
"He spoke civilly to someone who's not pureblood! It's love for sure!" Willow declared, and, ignoring the stares we received from our annoyed peers, we laughed. For her, out of excitement for my "accomplishment." For me…
I guess recognizing how strange the truth was just made the lie so much funnier.
-'-,-'-,-'-
"So it's three more clockwise stirs, and then we add the owl eyes, right?" I asked Granger, who was looking onto my work with an impatient look in her eye. Potions every other day was murder on my brain, but at least I'm getting better-ish.
Having the smartest girl in the history of Hogwarts as a partner definitely helped.
"Falcon eyes, but otherwise, yes," she replied, her tone stiff. I sighed in relief, thankful with the knowledge that my "inferior, impure" mind was capable of absorbing some information. My happy feeling was interrupted by a hand stopping my arms from moving the ladle. I looked up at a strangely panicked Granger curiously. We stared at each other for a moment before she explained herself.
"You were about to stir a fourth time," she said, no emotion in her face. I turned to look at her head on. She looked exhausted, with her hair bushier than usual and her normally too-bright-to-be-natural eyes dulled. I winced, sympathizing with her tiredness, and Granger took a step back and glared.
"Watch yourself," she warned, eyes giving off a familiar flash. I recoiled a little, turning back toward the bile-green potion.
"Sorry," I replied, picking up and counting eight falcon eyes, grimacing as I touched the slimy, squishy spheres, before dropping into the cauldron. I sat down, at ease.
I managed to brew a potion that was close enough in color to the directions on the blackboard to get me a passing grade. I was going to get my first E in Potions, and Granger barely needed to help me. All that was left was to let it stew for ten minutes, scoop up some of the icky, gloopy potion into a vial, and hand it in.
I'm, of course, ignoring the fact that it was supposed to be jade green and be thin in consistency. I made the potion, and it came out green. Wrong shade and viscosity, but who cares-it was green, and I was proud.
"We're done!" I told Granger a bit too enthusiastically. The Gryffindor peered into our cauldron and frowned.
"We're going to get a lot of points off," she noted, and I deflated a little.
"You weren't exactly helping me that much, and at least we'll pass," I protested indignantly. My E potion was brewed, and I was proud. If she wanted an O, she would've brewed it herself.
It was only when I heard a thump that I actually noticed Granger's posture. She'd taken several steps back into the wall of the dungeon, looking, for lack of a better phrase, scared out of her wits. Eyes wide and hands shaking, I saw her swallow and move her right hand to the pocket of her robes. Where her wand was.
And as the rest of class finished their potions, Granger and I never dropped each other's gazes. Fear evident on both our expressions as it dawned on me.
Granger knows.
-'-,-'-,-'-
Hey, look at that-I'm not dead!
Sorry about not being on FanFiction for the past month. I've had a ton of homework (I know, everyone says that, but seriously, it's true), and I've had a lot of songs to rehearse/practice/conduct. However, the latter is done (for now), so I have a little bit more time for FanFiction.
Actually, I've been working on this a little bit every weekend until now to get this done, but it's finally finished and I'm satisfied. I don't know, it feels like these chapters are really short. I'm trying to get better.
And, on that note, I've decided to make the Draco/Ebony a subtle thing-for now. In MI, the basis of their interactions is their romance, so the most I can do is get enough violence between them before he figures her out, freaks out, and eventually befriends her. It's in the plan for them to have romance-y moments, but honestly-I don't know if I actually want them to get together or now. So, it's your call: when they reach that point, do we want them to have an awkward romantic tension, or for them to suck it up and actually get together when the time comes?
Anywho, if you have any comments/critiques about plot, characterization, writing style, etc., let me know. Remember, I can't improve unless I know what I'm doing wrong.
Thanks for reading!
-esbmusic42
