A/N: Hey, guys. I'm extremely sorry for the lack of updates lately. I've been kinda depressed. This story doesn't seem to be going the way I want and I can't help feeling like it's been boring the last few chapters. I'm really sorry. I want to write well but I can't. If you have any writing tips or advice, please feel free to e-mail me.
Anyways, here's the next chapter.
"Hi, Drakie! How are you? I'm so sorry that I haven't visited yet—I've had loads of homework. Gotta keep up the grades," I winced at the sickenly-perky voice.
"Oh…trust me…you are completely" I replied in an annoyed tone that I prayed she'd pick up on.
What I wanted to say was 'homework? That's way more important than annoying me. If you've got homework, I'd forgive to go ahead and leave like—now!!!'
And since that isn't really what I said because I can't afford for her to cry to my father, the girl simply nodded, remaining planted firmly where she stood.
"Oh, good! I was worried you'd be upset!" She heaved a sigh of relief as I fought against vomiting again.
"Well, you worried for nothing," I shrugged indifferently, trying not to sound too rude.
She giggled in an exasperating, high-pitched way. I rolled my eyes.
"And you're here why…?" I questioned boredly.
"To give you company, of course!" She quickly answered—again, way too perky for my current taste.
"Are your sure you're not here to brag about how much energy you have?" I asked coldly and sternly.
She straightened up, "Oh, no! No, no, no—of course not, baby--"
"Pansy, just because I'm ill and out of the loop does NOT give you permission to take advantage of me and give me pet me pet names. We aren't a couple, okay? I've never allowed you to call me baby. Don't start now," I warned, my voice hoarse from a newly developed sore throat.
She winced, "Sorry—so sorry! Really—I don't mean to take advantage—oh, I'm such an idiot!! Are we still friends?" She apologized, glancing at me with puppy dog eyes and a quivering lip.
Now do you understand why I threw up in my mind?? This girl…I can't believe my father wants us to be together! I can't stand her!
"It's fine…" I sighed, returning the smile to her face.
I bit my lip to keep myself from telling her that I don't want to be friends.
"Great! Thank you! Hey—I wanted to show you something!!" she unzipped her book bag and removed a bright notebook.
"I've started on my Owl Pal letter," she informed me, handing me the hot-pink book while urging me to open it.
'Do I even want to read it??' I wondered. I concluded that I probably didn't, but since she was sitting there waiting for my approval of her letter, I unwillingly opened the unnecessarily bright notebook. If I upset her, my father would for sure hear of it, and then, I'd pay for it.
I stared down at the short, ditzy letter before my eyes.
Dear Owl Pal,
I have no idea what to write, but okay…I suppose nobody does!! I guess I'll start with the fact that I'm a fifth year female…you probably came to that conclusion already, though, right? The purple ink and all…lol.
I'm also an only child. You?
"Well?" she questioned impatiently as I looked up, "I'm going to rip it out of the notebook when I'm finished so I can mail it, in case you're wondering. Do you like it so far—someone did tell you about the Owl Pal Program, right?"
I narrowed my eyes. Why was she showing me this?! Did she honestly assume that I cared?
"It's lovely," I told her sourly, "And yes, I've heard about the program. Hector and Blaise stopped by this afternoon."
"I figured as much," she shrugged.
"But you're stupid," I told her bluntly.
Her reaction, I decided, was priceless. I wished at that moment that I had a camera so I could capture that face forever and use it as blackmail…
Her mouth dropped open in an utterly disgusting, reputation-ruining way, and her eyes bulged out, threatening to pop out of her eye sockets. It really wasn't a good look on her. She should be thankful that everyone around is way too sick to care, or even notice in the first place, for that matter.
I snickered, "What I
mean is, why be the first to send a letter? You're stupid because
if I were you, I'd wait for a letter before I even touched a quill.
It's easier. You just have to answer the questions, whereas, if
you write first, you have to think of the questions," I explained
to clear up the confusion and rid her of her repulsive expression,
"That's what I'm doing anyway. I'm waiting for a letter
before I write one,"
"Oh!" she lit up like a light bulb, "Brilliant!"
She tore out the paper from the notebook, crumbled it up into a snowball without second thought, and carelessly tossed it into the trash bin.
"Thanks, Draco!" she beamed, skipping out of the room like a ballerina.
I sighed inwardly in relief, thanking every higher power that her visit hadn't been dreadfully long. Rolling over to my side, my eyes instantly fluttered shut and I entered a light sleep.
It seemed like only seconds after falling asleep that I awoke, but I knew it had been longer. The only light in the room now came from the moon and stars outside the window. Everything else was pitch black and shadowy.
At first I felt stumped about what had caused me to wake up. My stomach felt fine, not hot and bubbly like it did right before I threw up. But then I noticed it. Leaning in the doorway. Another visitor.
A cold swept across the room as the shadowy figure strutted my way. For a terrifying, sickening moment, my blood ran cold and my entire body froze up like an ice burg. I couldn't even blink. All I could do was stare and pray that what I was seeing wasn't actually there.
The figure of my dreams had stepped out of dreamland and into reality!! No. How could this be happening? Was it even possible? The oxygen in my lungs cut off and I'd swear my heart quit beating. My brain shut off and I was left as a breathing corpse.
But then the shadow stepped closer, and as it came into focus, I noticed that it was actually a he. Just as sudden as fear overtook me, it vanished without a trace as if it had never been there at all. My blood continued flowing, the oxygen in my lungs returned, my heart began beating again and I heaved a huge sigh of relief. All the muscles in my body relaxed.
I knew that he wasn't exactly the most pleasant person in the world to be in the same room with, but when I compared him to the hooded figure, he was definitely a better choice. Nobody could frighten me like the figure of my dreams—not even the cold-hearted man who stood before me, a nasty sneer plastered to his face.
I tugged my sheets and blankets tighter around my frail body to protect myself against the sudden temperature drop. Madam Pomfrey must have accidentally turned the air down.
"Draco…" the icy voice seemed to chill the room even more.
"Father…" I returned, "You knew I was sick?"
"I have my sources," he supplied slyly, "How are you feeling now?"
I narrowed my eyes into slits. He was bored. His voice gave that away clearly. He was obviously here for something other than checking up on me? But then what?
"Well…I'm still in the hospital wing," I answered sourly.
I hoped that he wouldn't realize that I knew he had visited for more than just a check up.
"Yes…"he drawled silkily, "Yes, indeed, you are…"
I inwardly sighed, glad that hoping had worked. He didn't suspect a thing.
His eyes traveled up and down my body, as if inspecting it, trying to figure out what was wrong with me.
"I'm here for the flu," I stated miserably, my tone odd, with sick written all over it.
"Of course," he replied knowingly, "It's…going around…"
Now his voice revealed impatience. Whatever he had come for, whatever he wanted to hear or see from me, he wasn't pleased, and he hadn't found it. I assumed that he'd leave as soon as he got what he came for. The question was—what did he come for?
"So…anything…unusual going on in your life?"
This seemed like an odd question to ask. Unusual? What did he mean by that?
"No!" I told him angrily, wishing he'd give up on his mysterious ways.
He smirked at me, "Well then…if you say so…"
"Why?" I demand.
"Why?" he mocked, " Why?! No reason. Can I not be curious, my son?"
He shot me a long, deep glare at this, one that consumed me, drowning me, until I was sure that looks really could kill.
"Haven't had any epiphanies?" he continued once the deep gaze had broken, though his eyes were still solely fixed on me.
And suddenly, it occurred to me why he had come. It was about me, all right. Not my illness, but my decision. My own decision that he still couldn't accept. My heart sank. If he thought for one moment that he could come down here, make me feel guilty while I was all drugged up to get me to change my mind, he was wrong. Dead wrong. And he was sick. A sick man for wanting to go through such measures on his own son. Just because he didn't approve of my decision. Just because I chose to not be like him.
"Forget it," I growled, "I still refuse to join you. It's my final answer, Father,"
His lip twisted, and his hands explored the top of his cane, as he debated on whether to hex me or not.
"Fine," he said, almost too calmly, minutes later.
He turned around, silently creeping towards the door. As he reached it, he softly added, "Sweet dreams…Draco…"
