Chapter Thirty Six:
Don't Blame Me; Blame The Fruits
23rd of April, 2011. Saturday. (continuing following off events chapter 19; e.g the same day that Hermione Granger had punched Pansy Parkinson in front of McGonagall)
Pansy Parkinson 'hmpted' and walked into her bedroom to continue her letter. She used to write in a diary from fourth year through to fifth year. To be completely honest, she looked back at it last year and she didn't understand most things. She honestly worried if she had lost her mind in fourth year- did she sleepwalk and walk gibberish into this diary? But no, here and there she understood some entries and smiled at the memories. She gasped when she saw some entry that reminded her of the night when her father had mentioned Draco Malfoy. "Good man, good," he'd said. "I wouldn't mind him as your husband when your older."
Parkinson never told her parents about her love life and she hadn't talked to her dad in a while. Both her parents are separated, since last year, but their still good friends. It amazes Parkinson because they have very different personalities but she doesn't question it. She preferred it like that rather than them never talk to each other again. Parkinson would never forgive herself if she let that happen.
She didn't know how her dad would handle this letter but he's normally good at analysing and fixing problems. When she was younger, she used to think that her dad worked at the ministry, it was only when she was 8 years old when she realised, he didn't. But she still believes now that he should be a lawyer.
Eventually 15 minutes passed, and Parkinson walked out. She finished her letter. Tomorrow she'll go to the owlery to send the letter.
"What?" She snapped, halfheartedly surprised. "When'd you finish?"
Larry shrugged from the couch. The TV was on."Parkinson? You okay?" Larry asked, sitting up.
Parkinson rolled her eyes, "What's wrong with you? Of course I"m fine."
Larry sighed and rolled his eyes, "I'm hungry; you want something?" He stood up and walked into the kitchen.
"What?"
Larry opened the fridge, "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat, my love?" He said, the sarcasm clear in his voice.
Parkinson moved to sit at the bench of the kitchen, "I heard you, dear. I mean't; what's to eat?"
The dark eyed 17 year old brought out two oranges in his left hand and an apple in his right hand. His so-called-girlfriend stared at him blankly before saying, "ew. When I'm hungry, I don't eat fruit. What else is there?"
The 17 year old eyed Parkinson before retaliating, "So what pleases your hunger, Parkinson? Chocolate?"
Parkinson exclaimed in offence but didn't have any comment to make.
Larry rolled his eyes at her immaturity. Of course, he was aware that he did an immature move, but... He can't explain it. Something about Parkinson just makes him really edgy. He didn't say sorry and returned to the fridge to bring out a pear and another apple. "Look, if I chop all this fruit up into a big plate and... You'll get full..." He trailed off and shrugged nonchalantly.
He grabbed a knife from the drawer besides him and began peeling the oranges over a chopping board. He had just finished cutting the orange into the big plate he collected earlier, when he realised Parkinson didn't reply. He assumed that she just stalked off, annoyed, which the thought made him feel a little guilty. He couldn't help but satisfy his curiousty he glanced up, he slightly jolted in surprise. "Shit." Parkinson was still sitting at the bench in front of him. She was twirling her thumbs on top of the table. She'd glance up the same time that Larry looked at her. It was one of those moments that weren't really classified as 'awkward' but like a pause in the middle of the movie.
Parkinson blinked but didn't smile. Larry laughed shortly and shook his head, whilst Parkinson just wanted to break down. She didn't understand why she was all over the place lately, why she was so emotional. She's not acting like herself... It kind of scared her. It was like one day she woke up as a different person and now she doesn't know how to get back to her original self.
"Um..." She mumbled.
Larry sighed and reached across the bench where the other orange had rolled. He grabbed that orange and started peeling it.
"Christopher..." Parkinson started. Larry swallowed hard, bracing himself. He knew was the trustworthy person; he's always helping people out, with their problems... but he was hoping this year, to deal with his own. Then, Parkinson shocked him even further by saying; "I need to know- What house are you in?"
The 17-year-old laughed, "Parkinson, why do you want to know so desperately?"
"I..." She couldn't seem to make her mind up. She blushed, saying, "I'm curious, okay?"
"Well... I quite prefer seeing you in the unknown," Larry said, a smile in his voice. "You can wait, love."
Parkinson growled and stalked off to the couch and sat down on it. "I hate you!" She groaned and she grabbed the remote for the TV. She started switching through the channels as Larry continued chopping the fruit.
7th of May, 2011. Saturday, 8;35am. Currently.
Brown eyes opened, revealing the Dumbledore Student to have indeed fallen asleep. She remembered reading about Transfiguration and Astronomy. She began writing study notes on astronomy by around one thirty in the morning. She gave up fifteen minutes later, feeling too tired. She remembered doing homework for Potions, answering questions in paragraphs and then doing a written procedure for homework on a Charms experiment that she and her class completed.
Ginny Weasley groaned loudly, rubbing one side of her face as she tried to remember what happened after. She remembered checking the time a lot of times after getting halfway through the procedure. She had then turned on the TV, feeling the exhaustion pounding in her head. She didn't want to read the subtitles and feeling slightly bitter to her boyfriend-by-Marriage-Law, she just lowered the volume until she could just manage to understand the show without having to use too much pressure.
Glancing over to the TV, currently, she let out a brief "oh". She watched TV from two thirty until 4 o'clock. She had then turned off the TV and finished off the procedure. Ginny attempted to read another textbook, but now she remembered how she collapsed backwards on the couch and turned around so she faced the the wall base of the couch. She'd settled into a restless, dreamless sleep.
Now, she has a headache. The red-head sighed and sat up, stacking up all the textbooks and exercise books together from the floor or table. She set them besides the side of the couch and placed the pen she'd use leaning against the stack as well.
8:40 o'clock. Morning. "No!" She yelped, standing up. She bolted to the bedroom, hardly noticing that Harry wasn't in the Dorm. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and changed into her robes quickly. She grimaced at the throbbing headache- she'd gained from the adrenaline and the movement- as she brushed her hair. She pulled her hair into a rough ponytail.
She looked into the mirror and paused. She felt a rush of nostalgia. It surprised her, a bit that in just a few mere seconds, she had let herself crumble. She felt like she couldn't do this any more, couldn't handle it any more- with such a heavy heart, tears sprung to her eyes. But as quickly as they came, Ginny let it go. She wasn't going to cry over Harry until the appropriate moment - especially not now, when she's hungry and needs to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.
She collected herself, sniffing and checking her eyes in the mirror. They were fine- she'd just waken up, if anybody asked. Which was true, though nobody needs to know she cried.
"Pathetic," Ginny told herself. But she wanted to just be okay for a while, whilst she eats breakfast; the reason she rushed so quickly, and so not to miss it. She smiled, it felt forced but in the mirror it looked natural. Shaking her head at the weird comparison, she reminded herself she had to see to see Professor McGonagall. As she thought so, she felt almost hopeful for a carefree option, for a fresh start. But the sentimental emotions seemed to rush back into Ginny, like a whole push to almost overwhelm her.
It still wasn't enough to make tears come back, though, just enough to make her want to talk to Harry. Maybe somewhere deep down, she wanted to give Harry a chance. Right now, she didn't want to lose him, but she kept telling herself that it'll be the better option in the long run.
7th of May, 2011. Saturday. Around 3 hours ago.
I blinked; amazed I was quiet the whole time. I was mad at McGonagall and even madder when she kept using my first name. I knew there was some reason behind it but it couldn't focus to figure it out.
"You- You- What if-" I was gobsmacked. I was too confused- not only had I pushed my girlfriend out a window, but now I'm a hypocrite! I hate 'what if' those what questions. Though, did it matter? I couldn't even think of any of that right now. "My hand! My- our wands! Our Dorm-" I was getting breathless, but I couldn't stop. It all tumbled out and I stood to my feet. "That was no assignment. That's- That's ridiculous! Dangerou- Fine! No, fire? Fine! But my bloody arm-" I stood, taking a moment to just re-fill my lungs with oxygen.
Hermione gazed at me, "Draco, just sit down. I'm sure Professor McGonagall had thought it throu-"
"Are you fucking mental?" I exclaimed. "Hermione, our Dorm was on fire-"
"The fire was a fake! It was timed. Just calm down."
McGonagall opened and then closed her mouth, looking at me with slight anticipation. Letting out an annoyed noise, I did eventually sit down. With my elbows on my knees and my hands on my face, I felt the pain. But I was too mad to care.
"Draco Malfoy," McGonagall said, softly. She wanted to sound stern but still caring. I exhaled more heavier than usual but looked at her. I subsequently had to rest my hands on my lap, just to resist the pain, even if just a little. "The assignment had been prepared so that we could evaluate and understand our couples for the Marriage Law. It was to test how you and Miss Granger communicate and react together in certain situations. Understanding how our couples react in unexpected situations can show us more information than an expected one could."
There was a brief pause where nobody talked. Hermione was stunned and McGonagall was catching her breath. In an aggravated tone, one that bitterly reminded me of my past and my old attitude, I said, "Oh? And so? Do tell me."
"There are multiple cameras placed in all the Dorms for the Marriage Law, and this was explained in the rules. They are on almost all the time, I'm not sure when as the ministry handles that-"
"Hm," I snarled in dull 'of course' tone. "So remind us, professor, what did you learn with this helpful assessment?"
Headmistress McGonagall sighed, she was deeply worried about us. She wanted to quickly get through this conversation so that Hermione could take Draco to the infirmary. "I cannot tell you, in a few days you will recieve the response, but I can inform you that you both... didn't do so well, I'm afraid. I saw it all and I have some idea of what the response is going to say. This is the only assignment that you will get a response back, that is because this assignments is different to the others, as you have experienced so far. You don't need to frustrate yourselves, because like I said, the fire was timed, set and managed. It was not to go anyway outside the Dorm, to cause any serious damage to either of you...
"I wish you both good luck. The next task should come in about another week- for everyone, but today you and Hermione have been assigned to go and shop. Mainly for new wands," McGonagall said.
Hermione sighed, thinking shopping alone with Draco isn't going to be pretty. She was worried about me but also for herself. She was feeling so low she hoped she could cope. She just wanted to be okay with me as soon as possible... but then again, she was even worried to open her mouth and speak to me in case she would lose control and hit me like she really felt like doing.
"Whilst you are shopping, all of a replacement of your furniture are going into a free empty Dorm in the Slytherin House. A lot of the Dorms have gone quite empty as all the year sixes and sevens are apart of the Marriage Law. You should stay in there for around five days before moving back into your Dorm."
The Former Gryffindor gave a nod, glancing at me before inwardly sighing. I didn't react to what McGonagall said. I was a little disappointed but I was still mad. That anger was pushed to the side, though, as the pain was starting to overwhelm me. I wasn't sure if the pain gained or if I just didn't have the strength to just handle it anymore.
"I... I want to let you both know, personally, that I don't want to harm anybody. The ministry and I have carefully planned all of the assignments."
Hermione nodded and I grunted.
"You're dismissed," McGonagall said, turning professional again. "I trust you, Miss Granger to help him to the infirmary?"
"Course," Hermione replied.
McGonagall nodded. She watched as Hermione and I both, somewhat reluctantly, stood up. She knew she had to mention something she didn't want to say. However, she is the Headmistress. "Oh, and Draco? For swearing various times, 10 points from Slytherin." Professor McGonagall couldn't tell if I was ignoring her or I didn't pay attention to what to said. Truthfully, I couldn't really focus but I was aware of what McGonagall did. I tried to reply, but all that sounded was a groan.
The Headmistress let us leave; she was well aware that I was in pain and she really hated taking points away from houses.
But she had a more important situation to deal with now; Pansy Parkinson and Larry Christopher.
"Are- Are you okay?"
"What do you think?" I snapped, cradling my wrist to my chest. I grunted and stopped walking for a moment. "Look, I- I'm s-sorry, alright?" I paused, assessing my wrist very carefully. I bit my lip at the pain. It was painful, but if I stopped to focus, it wasn't such an unbearable pain. Okay, sometimes it had flashes where I might've been forced to be close to tears, but the pain was... somewhat tolerable. Especially when I knew that in just a few minutes it'll be taken care of by a doctor.
"I don't want to yell," I added, "I-I'm okay," I said quickly to assure Hermione. I adjusted my wrist carefully back onto my chest again. "I'm... okay; it's okay," I confirmed, and even gave her a teasing smile.
She slapped me across the back of my head. "Ow!" I exclaimed, surprised at her reaction. My smile still didn't leave my face, though. "I hurt my ankle too, you know," I added, remembering the whiplash I gained from landing on the mat. Of course, the whiplash was already almost gone but... I couldn't help the words that words that had slipped out of my mouth. Besides, it was my knee, not my ankle that had hurt... but that doesn't matter right now.
"Liar."
"It's the truth."
"You're ankle does not hurt, Draco," she said, her eyes blazing. "I can tell. Why do you try to mess with me?"
"Uh-"
She sighed and looked at me, with a challenge on her straight face, "bitch."
I grunted, shifting my weight. "Judgemental!" I retorted ferociously. It hit me hard that she was still mad about pushing her out the window. "Listen, Hermione. Our Dorm was on fire! I was saving your arse!"
"Idiot," She bit back, taking a step towards me. "You're a lucky bitch then. What if I hit my arm on the wall? Or twisted my ankle as you pushed-"
I reached and stepped forward, holding her shoulder blade so my finger touched the back of her neck. I used my uninjured arm but she still didn't look impressed. "I knew what I was doing, love."
"Bull," She dismissed.
"Why would I do that to you?" I snarled. "Would I risk killing you? I fucking love you, Hermi-"
"Luck," she said simply. She had looked away from my eyes quickly when I started stating that I loved her.
"For fuck's sake!" I flared, lifting my arms up in the air by distress. Hermione's eyes widened and then I felt it. Moaning, and grumbling, 'stupid, move, stupid, stupid...' I cradled my wrist again. Wordlessly, we both hurried to the infirmary.
We rushed in quite brashly. Madam Pomfrey looked up surprised but then it subsequently went away. "I was told to expect yous just moments ago.
Nobody had to speak. Headmistress McGonagall must have also warned Madam Pomfrey that I have hurt my hand. She took us to this clean room and I was to sit on the end of this form of bench that was considered to be some type of bed. It was different to the other beds in the open patient room in the infirmary.
Then again, it wasn't hard to see the signs. My wrist was a little sweaty, red... I guess that'd be called swelling. Around the swelling, and I hadn't noticed it 'til now, but it looks like there was a small bump to the side. As I stared at it, I realised that it was probably from the swelling- that's why it's called swelling. It didn't look so bad, overall, but it did look like it needed some serious attention. It was still cradled to my chest. I wasn't stupid enough to move a muscle in my arm if I can help it... That didn't work out well last time. However, it's made me slightly paranoid now. Some kid across the hallway could've figured something was wrong with my arm.
"How'd you do it?" Madam Pomfrey said sternly as she looked around the room for something. There were open boxes on the floor besides the 'bed' that contained potions. There were boxes on the shelves too- but I couldn't see what was in them- and a running fridge on the far side of the room. If I turned my head to the right slightly, I could see different potions in the fridge.
There wasn't a chair in the room but Hermione was looked content in leaning against the door frame. She was looking at me with a very straight face- a blank one, however, so I wasn't able to tell what she was thinking or feeling.
Hermione didn't really feel tired. The adrenaline was long gone but she felt too many emotions running in her. She felt like they all were racing a marathon and she'd expect them minutes ago to throw in the towel, but they kept running. It's still overwhelming her. Somewhere deep down she knew I didn't mean bad. Somewhere deep down she didn't want to fight, she knew that. But she was a Gryffindor, how can't she? Deep down she also wanted to believe that I knew what I had been doing, but she couldn't. He's reckless, she had decided. But, of course, somewhere in her, she already knew that.
She started to gain feelings from years ago; that she can't trust me again. She might've been in my position now- if luck wasn't on her side. She might've twisted her arm as she was pushed out of the window, hit her fingers against the wall as she flew or maybe even a concussion from the land.
The land wasn't my fault, she knew. That we didn't have a choice. It was my choice to chuck the her out of the without, which would have been okay, if she knew... but the problem was, deep down... I doubted it at the time- there was no time to think, like there hadn't been enough time to panic.
Most of all, she hated all the good memories that was flooding into her as she imagined herself now. She hated feeling confused- she never liked it. She's giving herself a headache. She hated the fact that she considered, maybe, she's blowing it out of proportion but then she wasn't sure. Maybe, she was too tired to focus or maybe that was the anger.
Why did the ministry do this? First they bring up the ridiculous idea of the Marriage Law back, to which, eventually worked out... But then the procedure of it practically blew up the relationship! She thought. Did that mean that the relationship was doomed from the start? If so, did they really need to mock us like that, by using some... surprise assignment with fire and ending with Draco hurting his wrist? But then, Hermione knew that there must be something to the Marriage Law. It'd paired her with someone she really did love. Still loves...
As she looked at me now, she felt like she was in some sick pain, watching the pain across my expression, my eyes and my position. If I knew that was happening to her, I would've attempted to comfort her, or try not to show too much pain. But that was a hard job in itself. I couldn't help it. I didn't know.
It is bad; his hand, she pondered. Hermione would've thought that it was broken, but do broken bones cause the skin to swell? Perhaps it was twisted.
The brunette finally pursued on calming down. It was over. What happened, happened. Doesn't mean she won't talk to me about it later on.
She observed me closely, to which I was completely oblivious as I was telling Madam Pomfrey what I did. She was still looking around, and I couldn't help the bitter, complaining tone that overcame my voice. Hermione hadn't observed me probably all morning, normally after we're both ready and heading to breakfast, she does. She thinks I don't notice her do it, but I think it's cute.
Finally, out of some random urge, I wanted to look at Hermione again. I didn't and glanced over at my shoulder to look over at Madam Pomfrey. As I did, Hermione gasped. I motioned to looked at Hermione but then Pomfrey turned to me suddenly with... some form of material in her hand. She started to check if the material was a good match for my arm, to which, it was smaller and so she started looking again. She told me to continue my story.
At that same moment, Hermione almost jolted and then, once the shock passed, she wanted to slap herself. She's been with me awake how long, and she just realised that I was with my bare chest? I was still oblivious to why Hermione gasped, being measured with my arm, but... honestly, I didn't even imagine she was exclaiming about that- I'd have thought she noticed earlier. She started to blush as she hadn't seen me before without anything covering my chest. She admitted silently to herself, that I looked good. She instantly averted her gaze to the other side of the corridor, from over her shoulder, the blush slowly fading away.
Crap! She pondered. What would anyone who saw us think? Did McGonagall clue Madam Pomfrey on what happened? Wait, I think he's doing that now. Inhaling and exhaling, she calmed down again. She knew it was important to listen to the doctor and me now. But still... how could I have not noticed this until now?
"-It'll balance it, okay?" She finished off. She was holding my wrist and pointing to a certain spot; there was the most painful looking on the skin. Where the swelling started.
I nodded, "Alright, that's fine... but how'd you know what it was? You knew before I finished telling you what happened..."
Madam Pomfrey looked at me very seriously, "My dear, I am a doctor here, at this school! You've no idea how many years I've worked here. Of course I've treated this before, don't you think?"
I wrinkled my nose for a moment. This lady either seems to think my question was amusing or offensive, I wasn't sure. "Okay, not a problem, Madam," I said carefully. "So then..." I lifted up the... weird material she finished measured- it was a perfect fit. "What's this?"
Madam Pomfrey placed both hands on her hips and looked at me like I was a naughty kid. "Have you been listening to a word I've said?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed, shifting in annoyance. In the process I yanked my arm slightly, to which Pomfrey had been holding earlier. I cringed in slight pain. "I know... it helps the... ball thing to be aline again. To be balanced. But what's it called and why it's got this weird material?"
She didn't; but she looked like she honestly wanted to use the purpose/intention of 'facepalm'. "Volar Wrist Splint," She finally said.
"Oh."
Hermione was frowning in the doorway. She caught on pretty well but she'd missed exactly what was the issue. "Um... what's wrong with his wrist?"
I looked at my girlfriend with furrowed eyebrows. Madam Pomfrey turned her gaze on Hermione but before she could open her mouth, Hermione quickly said, "Sorry, no, I just forgot the... the details," she smiled shyly.
"Very well," Madam Pomfrey said. "Mr. Malfoy here has gained himself a dislocated joint in his wrist; this volar splint will help support the bone back into right direction. Of course I'll be able to say a spell and the joint won't be dislocated anymore, but the splint will help the bone... be used to being together again, which the certain spell, does not do.
"The spell I'll use won't be the complicated one as this case isn't as bad, therefore the splint will also help the bone get more stronger. You'll only have to use the splint for 5 days," She added, turning back to me. "You won't take it off... The material is like this so you are able to have showers- so you can get it wet. I suggest you be more careful this time around, Mr. Malfoy."
23rd of April, 2011. Saturday. (continuing following off events chapter 19; e.g the same day that Hermione Granger had punched Pansy Parkinson in front of McGonagall)
Parkinson growled and stalked off to the couch and sat down on it. "I hate you!" She groaned and she grabbed the remote for the TV. She started switching through the channels as Larry continued chopping the fruit.
Once Parkinson actually found a channel she wanted on she exhaled in relaxation and leaned back onto the wall base of the couch. By then, Larry had finished chopping the fruit and walked into the lounge room. "Hm," Parkinson smiled and reached instantly for a piece of apple greedily.
Larry eyed Parkinson's movement amusedly. "Someone's hungry."
"Sod off," She snapped in between chewing the fruit.
"You shouldn't say that to a boy," the 17 year old said, picking up a slice of pear.
"You shouldn't talk back to a girl," Parkinson said, reaching for another piece of apple.
"I think of you more of... my bitch," Larry joked, sitting down on the opposite couch. Parkinson made a face, to when Larry quickly said, "Freaking hell, Parkinson, I was kidding!"
She rolled her eyes, "Why do you need to joke like that?"
"Why do you need to act like some bitch?"
"I'm not a bitch."
"I said you act like one."
Parkinson stared at Larry carefully and then ate the last of the piece of apple she had. Larry did the same to his pear. He vaguely remembered when she told him some insight of one of her problems. Something about her friends thinking she was dumb, something about her friend's not seeming like friends for a while. Larry did feel guilty. He looked at the TV, "So... you like Zac Efron?"
"What?" The black haired female said, surprised. She glanced at the TV screen, the movie 17 again was playing, volume not so loud. "Oh. I've kind of watched the movie before... It's funny."
"Mhhm, okay," Larry agreed and leaned forward to reach for the fork. Larry sighed and reached for an apple piece, they both got close enough that their forehead was centimetres from touching. It was quite fasincating that Hogwarts was using 'Muggle's connections' now. Larry hadn't noticed it before... but that was probably because the only place Hogwarts had TV was in the Marriage Law Dorms.
"Well, then, what movie genres do you like, Christopher?" Parkinson said easily, poking an orange with the fork and quickly putting the slice in her mouth.
"Action, comedy... fantasy," Larry said.
"What's your favourite colour?" Parkinson said after a long pause.
Larry eyed Parkinson. "Really? My favourite colour..." He lifted an eyebrow but nonetheless replied, "Don't have one... Aqua's cool though. And you? Dear?"
"Purple... or green," She shrugged simply.
He nodded and they both turned to watch the movie on the screen for a minute.
"Hold on!" Parkinson suddenly said, her voice now serious. "What house are you in? You didn't answer me before..."
Larry couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Parkinson, you've asked me twice before. First time, I didn't think you were that serious. And I mean't what I said earlier," he paused, and then said, "'I quite prefer seeing you in the unknown,' and so, 'you can wait, love'."
Parkinson looked like she wanted to groan again but instead she said, "Alright, fine, I'll find out soon anyways."
Larry just laughed again. "You know," He said after a moment, "The apple's good."
"Yeah..." Parkinson trailed, she glanced at the oranges, "Well, I like the oranges better."
"Fair enough," He mumbled reaching for the apple piece again. At the same moment, she reached her fork for the oranges.
They were almost touching again. Larry seemed to be having a problem actually picking up the slippery apple- it was right next to the pears, which gained itself quite a slippery area. She inhaled deeply, cringing when she realised what a stupid move that was. She could smell Larry's scent... She couldn't describe it. She looked up at his eyes, but then chickened out, worried he might glance at her. Fuck! She inwardly snapped when she realised she started gazing for his lips.
"Haha," Larry said, awkwardly, "This apple..." His eyebrows furrowed slightly. He wanted that piece! It was the best looking one...
Parkinson always had trouble holding her instincts. Suddenly, her hand not holding the fork whipped around so she softly connected with the side of Larry's jaw and slightly his neck. She was too quick, already reaching closer instantly until only a second later she kissed him.