Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, any of its characters or settings. All you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling
A/N: Ok everyone, I'm finally done with the 14th chapter of the story. I must admit it took me a lot of thinking and time to finish it. I almost lost my mind. I don't really know what your opinion will be. I mean, the chapter isn't much of an advance of the story as a whole, but I think some of you will enjoy it. The next chapter will be way more important to the plot and it'll be in Rosie's point of view. If you wonder why I didn't just write Rosie's chapter and just ignored this one, it is because in the last chapter you didn't get to see how Scorpius felt about Rosie helping him; I felt like I really had to let you know what he thought of it. Besides I think this reaction suits his personality better than just being fine with it in a love-sick way.
Anyway, hope the long wait was worth the while. Thanks for all the reviews, by the way. Thanks to by beta, Nickie. Thanks to everyone who reads.
Now, on with the story...!
Chapter 14
"Attached by the Heart"
Bloody Weasley.
Just when I had resigned I would never have her; when I had decided to stop myself from loving her; she goes and does this! Is it that hard to just let me forget about her?! What is wrong with her?! Why does she have to be like this?! Is it that hard to just mind her own business and let me handle mine?!
I mean, I know I should be grateful for what she's done; yes, I know it was her. Who else? I don't need the Headmaster to tell me who was the brilliant mind who found the flaw in my father's letter. It's more than obvious! She seems to enjoy solving everyone else's problems; and me getting banned from the team is big enough to make her want to help me, especially since it was her fault. Though I couldn't care less how guilty she feels or anything. It was my decision to hit the git, and I should be the one saving my arse, not her!
I just can't figure her out! She's always cold, never smiling sweetly to me like I know she can. She's not soft spoken to me as she is with her friends! And then she's the nicest anyone has ever been to me, aside, from the shadows, never bothering to let me know!
Why can't she just talk to me? She could have told me about it before informing Longbottom! She could have included me! She could have trusted me! But no! Apparently, trust, is nothing more than a word to Rose Weasley! I don't get it! Why be so harsh to me when she was 'apologizing' and then convincing the Headmaster to let me stay in the team? What reason does she have to intercede for me like this anyway?
She has never really liked me, she said it herself! She never really thought I was being honest! So why do this then?! Does she enjoy confusing people? Does she like controlling the life of everyone around her? Even people whom she couldn't care less about?!
Bloody Weasley! Bloody her and her bloody heroine complex!
I keep running, pushing my legs further. My calves are burning, but I couldn't care less. I cannot wait until tomorrow! This 'I'm-letting-you-speak-for-me-and-pretend-I-don't-know' is ending tonight! She will not have the last say in this! I don't care how hard my heart might pound! I don't care if I stutter like a moron! I don't care if my hands sweat enough to fill a bucket! I'm neither backing down, nor wavering!
After three flights of stairs and four really long hallways, I finally get to the Head's tower. I mumble the password through gritted teeth and walk in, determined to give Weasley a piece of my mind.
As usual, she's at the low table in front of the fireplace, sitting on the floor while doing homework. I try to control my breathing before I let her know I'm in the room. I've tried shouting when I'm out of breathe and the effect has never been the same. I need her to understand I cannot put up any longer with this hidden behaviour of hers; and for that, I need to stop panting.
"I guess I owe big time now, don't I?" I ask angrily once I catch my breathe.
"It was just an umbrella, Malfoy." she replies, not bothering to look at the entrance, where I still stand.
"That's not what I meant."
Then her shoulders stiff and she stops writing in the remarkably long parchment she has been working on, for who knows how long.
We keep quiet for a minute or two. I'm waiting for her reply. She needs to be the one to speak first. She needs to admit her actions. I won't have it any other way.
But she says nothing. She just stares at the fire, as if I had never opened my mouth; as if I wasn't here at all.
Getting madder by every seconds that dies in silence, I make a decision.
If she's not willing to explain herself, I will drag the words out of her.
"Answer me Weasley." I say coldly.
Nothing.
I know she will hate me for this, but it's the only way we can stop dancing around so miserably. I have to do what I think is right. I want to let her go; let her step away from my life and let myself move on. I want her gone, so none of us has to hurt any more. That's the only solution. I can't just forget this all and pretend it doesn't bother me that she intercedes so much for me behind my back.
This has got to stop, and if I have to be ruthless, I will.
"Don't have anything to say now?" I ask, slight mockery defining my tone "Did you waste all your breathe convincing Longbottom to let me stay on the team?"
I wait for a furious reply from her; but it doesn't come. Instead, she starts gathering her stuff and shoving them into her bag.
"Oh, you're leaving?" I ask, still sounding like a git "If this matter isn't important enough for you to clear the air for me, why cause it then?"
I keep trying to be the biggest twat there is; but I can't help feeling disgusted with myself.
"I hit Leonard because I wanted to. It was my call, not yours; thus, the consequences of my actions are that, mine." I say, colder than before, but discarding the use of mockery. "Why did you do it, Weasley?"
I wait, as I have at least three times now, for her answer. She stands up, her bag in hand. She turns to face me and I'm finally able to see her reaction. But she's wearing an emotionless mask, making extremely hard for me to see just how mad at me she is. Nevertheless, her clenched fists give her away a little. I look up to her eyes once again, trying to trick my mind into believing I did not see just how bad her left wrist looks.
"I was just being nice." she says, her voice maybe even colder than mine, her eyes buried in the wall behind me.
"Well I don't want you to be nice to me." I say angrily, not really understanding why such statement has made me so angry "You know, I'm getting tired of all the things you do and say on my behalf behind my back." My heart pounds in my ears and I can feel the blood rushing to my face; not precisely in a harmless blush "I've never asked you to stay in the infirmary the night I fell! I didn't ask you to talk to Charlotte! I didn't ask you to solve my Quidditch issue!" I say, almost at the verge of screaming "If you don't consider me worthy enough of even your friendship, then why the bloody hell don't you just mind your own business?!"
There's a deafening silence, in which I try to calm myself. I look at Weasley just to see her eyes cold and unfeeling, still on the wall behind me.
"Fine." she says, her voice far too cold and controlled for my liking.
"That's it? Fine?" After all the trouble she has caused, that's all she'll say? Is she kidding me?
"What else do you want from me, Malfoy?" she replies looking me in the eye. "I will not apologize for making sure your life still had a meaning."
"Why does it even matter to you, Weasley?!" I ask, feeling extraordinarily frustrated by now.
The one second we stared at each other felt like four hours. Four long hours in which I was able to see her hazel eyes deep in confusion, anger gathering in them; though I can't tell whom she's madder at, me or herself.
"I don't bloody know! Alright!" she yells, apparently sick of controlling the way she reacts "Do you think you're the only one who dislikes the way I am?! I bloody hate myself for being such a fool trying to fix everyone's life, just because I can't fix my own!" she continues, letting her bag fall to the floor. "And fine! I won't try to help you any more! I'll mind my own business!" Her cheeks are flushed and a frown has made its way to her forehead "I'm sorry I felt bad for you! I'm sorry I couldn't bare seeing you as miserable as you were when-!"
Then she just cuts herself off in mid sentence. She seems to believe she said a little too much.
"Just forget it. I won't speak for you again." she finally says after almost a minute, her voice back to being cold and too collected.
Then she leaves the room, not bothering to pick up her bag, not bothering to explain herself any further, not bothering to look back at me once.
.
OOOO
.
"You're done for the night, Mr. Malfoy." I look up from my essay to Professor Smith. "If you hurry, you might still catch some supper."
I look back down at my unfinished essay. I know that if I turn it in like this, I might have to come back tomorrow for an extra detention to finish it... But I'm hungry as hell.
I haven't eaten properly for a week now; since I last spoke to Weasley. I know, I know; if I don't care, how come I can't eat, I can't think correctly, I can't sleep! Well what the bloody hell do you want from me, people? I'm trying to forget about love, not a bad grade!
I gather my things and walk out of the classroom after mumbling a grumpy 'good night' to my Head of House. As I walk through the dungeon's halls, I can hear someone approaching me from the next hallway. I hope it's not Weasley; I've managed to ignore her existence for too long now. If I see her, I might not be able to keep my plan up.
Panic drowning me, I make a harsh decision and turn violently to walk the path I was coming from back again.
"Look who we have here." An amused, probably smirking, voice says behind me.
I turn around, knowing it's not Weasley, but not precisely liking whom I know I'm about to face.
"What do you want, Zabini?"
"Not much." Leonard replies, that hateful smirk wider than I have ever seen it. "I just wanted to congratulate you."
"For what exactly?" I snort.
"For keeping up my good work." he says after a few seconds of starring at me, looking hideously amused.
I don't really understand what he means, but I certainly don't want to know. I rather ignore him than have something else in my mind to keep me awake this evening or preventing me from eating at all. So I decide to keep walking. I'll have to take a few more turns than I would if I cross paths with Zabini, but I don't care. To walk a few more feet looks way better than giving him the chance to make me fall in whatever trap he's planning now.
"You seem to be rather miserably lately," he says casually, just when I've taken about five steps ahead. "Not that you are an actual happy person, but you look pretty beaten at the time being."
"So?" I ask, not moving, but not bothering to look at him either.
"Well, I guess you've managed to make the pretty red head hate you, without my help."
At that I can't help but turn. I glared at the tanned boy as he leans against the wall, pulling one of his hateful smirks at the fact that he managed to catch my attention.
"What is it to you?"
"Oh, it's very amusing actually." he says as calmly as if we were discussing the weather "Now I know I don't have to try too hard. You do a very nice job making your life miserable yourself."
"Well, I'm glad you enjoy the show." I reply and attempt to keep walking.
"I certainly do." I hear him peal himself off the wall and take a couple of steps towards me. "But I don't think I've had enough."
I stop dead once more. I want to turn around at hit the bloody hell out of him; but I'm half way through with my detention, and I don't want another month for 'unjustified' violence. So, instead of murdering him, I take a deep breathe.
"It's been three years now, Leonard. Let it go."
"No." he replies right away, walking closer. "I will not let go until you feel the same pain I felt."
"I hate to tell you, but I have already lost someone precious to me, if you can't recall." I turn around to see him not more than four feet from me. His smirk is gone, but his eyes are a pair of dark blue, hateful slits.
"It's not the same; you know it."
"What are you planning on doing then, Zabini?" I ask him mockingly "You've already managed to make my already broken relationship with my father even worse. You turned my ex-girlfriend, not to mention one of my best friends, against me. And I'm sure you wouldn't hurt your own brother." I say almost laughing "So what can you possibly do to me now?"
"I can always stick to just messing with Weasley."
I try to say he can do whatever he wants with her; but just thinking about it feels like a really large knife is being plugged into my guts.
"Hm? I will take your silence as a green light." he says smirking as he turns his back to me and starts walking ahead.
"Don't you even dare." I hiss, feeling too furious to even put it in words.
"Pardon?"
"You heard me just fine, Zabini." I threaten coldly, my voice sharper than a needle "You touch one hair of her head and I will hunt you down and rip your bloody organs out."
"Oh, please." he snorts, the smirk never leaving his mouth "Your place in the team is already compromised, don't you mind getting expelled?"
Unable to stop myself, I walk three long strides towards Leonard and grab him from his uniform's collar. It takes all my self control and will power to not slam my fist against his face for the second time in two weeks.
"I couldn't care less." Screw school! "You come more than twenty feet from her and I swear over Albus Dumbledore's grave, I'll kill you."
I let go of him, pushing him hard enough for him to stumble a little once his feet touch the floor properly. Then I walk away, trying to be the better man here... Though, truth be told, I rather not be a man at all at this point.
After a few seconds, I hear his footsteps walking the opposite direction from mine. I don't know if he'll take me seriously. I don't know if he's scared or just amused by the obvious effect his words had upon me. But honestly, his reaction to my threat is the last thing I'm trying to figure out.
I'm never going to stop caring for her, am I?
I don't understand why I have to love her, of all people. I don't get how my rational thinking can lose all its powers just because of that tiny beating thing in my chest. I always thought of myself as a man who would never fall to the flatter of the heart; all my life, I've thought my way out of anything.
But this time I just can't. My brain refuses to cooperate; it's just letting my emotions take over. And as far as I know, that had never been part of the deal.
I know I should stay away from her. I know loving her just gains me pain and hurt and it messes up everything I've worked for. But I can't bring myself to care... at all.
Because it doesn't matter how much of a rational being I am. It doesn't matter how hard I try to forget about the redhead. It's just never going to happen. I don't care how frustrated she makes me. I don't care how helpless or useless she makes me feel. I don't even care if it brings me more trouble just thinking this way. I can't just let her go. I know she's not mine; I know there's a chance she'll never be, but I can't just give up.
She might confuse me, she might make me feel like a blushing five-year-old. None of that matters. Because, even if she doesn't smile at me in the same sweet manner she smiles at her friends and family; she smiles nevertheless. Her voice is this infant's favourite lullaby. Her eyes are the only thing in this world that can hypnotize me. Her stubborn attitude just makes me more drawn to her. I don't really mind the fact that she helps everyone she can possibly help. What bugs me is that she helps me too; meaning I'm nothing special to her; I'm 'anyone'.
Still, even aware of how unimportant I may be to her. I just can't forget her; I can't get over her. Because it doesn't matter how horrible my life can turn if I keep feeling this way. I love her; that's my absolute truth. I can't change it, and in all honesty, I don't want to either.
I'm in love, and even if I'm not loved back; I can finally see the beauty of it all.
.
OOOO
.
It's been twenty minutes since I finally reached the portrait that leads to my common room. Twenty minutes since the bloody painting has asked for the password at least three times. I don't know what to do.
Weasley is at the other side, and I don't know what to say to her.
"Just get in, boy." the portrait says, breaking my thoughts "She's not even there."
"What?" I ask dumbfounded. "Oh, mm, 'Alliance'."
I walk into the common room, verifying what the old man of the portrait said; she's not here.
I wonder if she even plans on coming back. This time she didn't change the password; I believe I wasn't the only one who got in trouble for that little stunt at the beginning of the term. I heard she earned a week of detention as well...
Detention. Of course. She got two weeks of muggle-handed trophy polishing for what happened the day of the match. She must still be at detention. If not, she should be having the supper my stomach refused on having before I could even reach the Great Hall.
I walk further into the room and slump in the couch in front of the fireplace. The flames are as vivid as usual; but for some reason I just don't feel very warm.
I'm surprised, not to mention impressed, by my lack of panic at my current situation. Usually at me digging a hole in the ground just so I can disappear and not have to face Weasley. But panicking just seems so stupid, so immature on my part at the moment. I guess that I've come to be in peace with my heart's choice, and maybe that state of mind makes everything less scary, I suppose.
Still, just because I'm sure I won't blush like a middle school girl, doesn't mean that I have a clue of what to say. I'm not sure I can just apologize and get away with it; I doubt Weasley would let it go that easily. Truth enough, a simple apology won't take away the things I said last week. I don't consider none of my words to be a low punch, unlike a certain sentence she said to me about a month ago, but she is just too stubborn. Even if I mean it with all of me, I doubt she'd see it the same way.
But however I look at it, there's no way in this life I can say enough for her to forgive me right away. So maybe I don't need to think much about it. I'll just say I'm sorry and that I didn't mean all the things I said, and hopefully she'll see I'm not lying.
Just as this thoughts clouded my head, I hear the portrait hole being opened and wait in silence for the redhead to come into sight.
But she doesn't.
I sit up straighter and turn my head to the entrance. Weasley sitting on the floor, her legs bend up to her chest and her forehead resting on her knees. She's panting, like she had run her way back to the tower.
"Weasley?" I call out to her as I stand up from the couch.
At the sound of my voice, the redhead snaps her head up and I feel relieved to see her eyes dry. I know she's not the kind of girl that cries much; but I was truly concerned she had broken. Still, she looks quite tired. There are light lilac circles under her hazel eyes.
"What?" she mumbles after letting out a heavy sigh.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah." she says in a tired, yet cold voice.
She stands up and pick the bag that had, apparently, set down when she sat on the floor. Then she starts walking to her bedroom, looking exhausted.
I know she looks like she needs a good night sleep; call me selfish, but I can't wait until tomorrow to apologize. Beside who knows if I'll see her at all, she's really good at hiding, and since it's Hogsmeade weekend, it'll be rather hard to find out where she'll be gone to.
"Can I have a word?" I ask before she opens her bedroom door. She turns to face me, and I can't really read her face. I don't know if she's annoyed or worried or just too bloody tired. "I just wanted to apologize for what I said last week. I didn't mean any of the things I said."
We look at each other in the eye as I wait for her reply. As the time passes, I'm quite surprised at the lack of glaring on her part. Instead of shooting me a deathly look, she just leans against the wall and smiles a small tired smile.
"Are you sure about that?" she mocks me slightly "Cause you were pretty convincing."
I can't help but smile myself at the obvious opposite turn of events I had prepared myself for.
"I'm sure."
"Apology accepted." She says softly and then turns to open her bedroom door.
I turn to face the fireplace, little convinced she really accepts my apologies. I mean, maybe she didn't punch me in the guts with that sharp tongue of hers; but for some reason she just looks too distracted, too tired to take my words completely and let them sink in. It just was a little too easy to let it go.
"I guess I ought to apologize as well." I suddenly hear. I turn around back again to see her still in front of the door. "I still believe it was my responsibility to try to get you back on the team. But I shouldn't have kept it from you. I'll give you that." she says.
I nod at her and she nods at me before she finally closes her bedroom door behind her.
I'm not sure if I believe the fact that she has forgiving me that easily. I know there's something in her mind. I know she's worried about something that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Maybe she had a disagreement with Potter, maybe she got an unpleasant letter from her mother, maybe she's stressed about the classes. I don't know. But whatever it is, I'll let her tell me on her own accord. No, I don't think she even considers the option of trusting me. But in time, I hope she will. No matter when she decides to let me in, I'll be waiting.
After all, I'm attached to her by the heart.