Okay, so I owe you all a million thank you's and a million apologies. I got so many reviews (Special thanks to Elizaye! If you haven't read any of her work yet, go read it. One word: AMAZING!) I couldn't stop smiling. The reason for the delay in the next chapter is that I started my freshman year in high school today and I've been stressing like crazy and haven't had any time to write. I'm actually supposed to be researching a Spanish name for my Spanish class right now, but I decided it could wait. On to the story…
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"Fire!" Pansy's head shot up. Looking around, she breathed a sigh of relief. People were staring, some laughing and others looking concerned, but nothing was on fire. The scorching heat from vicious yellow-red flames had been a dream. An extremely vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. "Professor? May I go to the bathroom?" Binns droned on, so she took her leave. Throwing her notes and textbook haphazardly into her bag and gripping her wand tightly, she hurried from the room. She ignored the ocean-blue eyes following her escape. Instead she focused on the steely gray ones, which were filled with concern. She gave Draco a small, sad smile to assure him she was okay and that she just needed a moment. He responded with a small nod and she left.
Pansy had gone halfway down the hall when she heard the footsteps. Very light, almost indiscernible over her own ragged breathing, but she was a Slithering. Paranoia came with the territory. She wandered aimlessly, still listening to the footsteps carefully. Her feet eventually carried her to the dungeons. She quickened her pace, wand at the ready. Turning unexpectedly, she dashed into the nearest empty room, coughing and sputtering as she inhaled the dust. She turned just in time to see her follower. She whipped her wand upwards, pushing it into his neck.
"Weasley?" She gasped, stifling a sneeze.
"What happened to you?" He asked. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyes were flinty. She took a step back; this was not the Ronald Weasley she was used to seeing. Normally, he was so happy and carefree. Now, he was furious. Something had set him off. And that something had been her.
"I-nothing! What makes you think that?" She tried to lie convincingly, but honestly, she didn't even believe herself.
"Don't give me that bullshit." He snared, making her eyes widen. Oh yeah. Weasley was pissed. "Who hurt you? What happened? I'll make them pay. Just tell me what happened and who did it."
Pansy's heart nearly burst and she had to stop her eyes from filling with tears. He wasn't mad at her. He was concerned. Sure, her friends had been worried. But there was something so different, so touching about Ron's concern. He shouldn't care about her. It was practically illegal and definitely insane. And yet he did. Against all odds, despite the cold, cruel façade she put on, he truly cared about her. Looking at him now, she could see that if he could, he really would avenge her torture. She wanted to pull him into her arms and thank him over and over again, just for caring. Because no one had ever taken the time to really know her. To really see that she wasn't just some arrogant Slytherin. She had a heart and feelings. She felt pain and sorrow, happiness and joy. In this moment, Pansy had never known such joy, nor had she ever felt such pain. This couldn't go on. It was too dangerous.
Keeping her face a mask of superiority, she replied coolly, "I'm fine, thank you. I don't know what has gotten into you to make you believe that I've been hurt, or that you even have the right to inquire upon my health, but forget it. Its not your place."
She wanted to scream. This was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. Why couldn't she have Ron Weasley? Why couldn't he love her, hold her, and protect her like her clearly wanted to? What had she done to deserve this? What had he done? Ron was a good person; she knew this deep down in her heart. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, if they could be together, she could be good too. For him. She could die from the injustice of it because she knew they would never get their chance.
"No!" He cried, "I won't believe it. You tell me right now. Who hurt you? I can see it in your eyes, you're scared! You screamed 'fire' back in class. What the fuck happened?"
The concern in her eyes was pushing her, compelling her to tell him. To trust him. Oh, she knew with out a doubt that she could trust him. He already knew about the apprenticeship.
"I had my first lesson with Bellatrix." She sighed wearily, waving her wand to remove the dust from some old desks. He surprised her by transfiguring them in to a long couch and muttering a warming smell. She gave him a small smile in thanks and seated herself comfortable. His eyes urged her to speak. "I didn't do good enough in her eyes. So she lit me on fire. I-I almost d-died!" She choked on the last sentence, trying to ignore the memory of the burning heat, her begging, and Bellatrix's happy laughter.
"Merlin, that woman is barking mad!" He exclaimed. Shocking her, he reached out and pulled her to him. She couldn't resist melting into his arms again; luxuriating in the hard and soft feel of him. She was shaking. A few tears slipped gently down her face. He pulled back, wiping the tears away and staring at her intensely. She wanted to ask what he was looking for, why he was looking at her like that. But she couldn't. She was helpless to do anything but stare back. Finally, he leaned back, "I don't understand. Why do you do it? They can't hurt you here. You don't have to go through with your tasks. None of you do."
She rubbed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wanted to explain this with out insulting him and his House. "Because we're Slytherins. I mean no offense, but unlike you Gryffindors, we think about things before we act. You have to think like me for a moment. You get a letter stating that you are to complete a task and receive the Dark Mark. No explanation as to why they believe you will go through with it when you know that they know you were going to defect. If you consider the people sending the letter and what they're into, i.e. the Dark Arts, you can easily and most likely, correctly, assume that there are certain…precautions in place for preventing you from not completing said task. They're Slytherins like myself, so they are cunning. But self-preservation is another thing we are very concerned with. If it comes down to it, I'll do what it takes to stay alive."
Ron simply nodded. Her explanation made sense, in a way. "So that's it? You're just going to do the task and become a Death Eater?" The idea made saddened him.
"Well, for the time being, I really haven't got much of a choice, have I? Although, Theo, Blaise, and Draco mentioned a plan of some sort. No idea what they meant, though. Probably went to shit when Theo had to do a runner." She said thoughtfully. Talking to him made her feel better, calmer.
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Hermione woke up in the infirmary. Again. This would be her third visit. Or was it her fourth? She didn't know. A light snore came from beside her and she froze.
Draco Malfoy was asleep in an uncomfortable looking chair beside her bed. She almost laughed aloud at the Great Slytherin Prince's disheveled appearance. His hair was mussed, his clothing wrinkled, and he had what appeared to be blood on his shirt. Hers? She shuddered at the thought. Reaching for her wand, she quietly transfigured the chair into a larger, more comfortable version. Grinning at her handiwork, she lay back down and closed her eyes. It was very late anyway; she figured she might as well get some more sleep. Come morning, she would get to work on any assignments she had missed. She was just drifting into a light slumber when a groggy voice roused her.
"Gr-Granger?" He mumbled, sitting up a little.
"Malfoy!" She whisper-yelled. "How the hell did I get here? What happened?" Now that he was awake and Hermione could ask questions, she desperately wanted answers.
"Came back to the Heads' Common Room and found you passed out on the floor. There was blood dripping from your mouth. I carried you here and fell asleep watching over you. Pomfrey had to run out to replenish some of her potions. Something about burnt hair replenishing potion going missing…" He trailed off and smirked, remembering Astoria, Tamara, and Theo's little scheme. Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"What do you know about the missing potion?"
"There was an…incident…with Pansy." He told her. He knew he shouldn't share this with her, it was Pansy's personal life, but he desperately needed her to trust him.
Her eyes widened. "What happened?"
"Well… Pansy had been forced into an apprenticeship under Bellatrix Lestrange, but she doesn't want to do it. When she refused to torture my aunt, Bella burned her alive. Nearly killed her." Hermione bit hr lip, brown eyes filled with sympathy. Brown eyes that he could get lost in…no!
"Is…is Pansy okay?' She inquired gently, not wanting to upset him.
"She's fine. Tamara healed her up fine." He said shortly, offering no more explanations.
She seemed thoughtful for a moment before tentatively asking, "What about you? Have you been given a task too?"
His lips twisted into one of his favorite sardonic smiles, "Oh yes. I'm to kill you."
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Okay, so I know much shorter then normal, but updates will be shorter on school nights when I haven't got much time to do them. Again, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, I did my best to reply to all of them, but I didn't get to the ones that were given in the last two days or so. I will get to them tomorrow, though! For now, I'm off to bed! Goodnight, lovely readers! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!