It was raining, an endless torrent that had been pouring for days that made the castle colder than usual and the weekend duller than dirt. All of the students remained indoors, many sequestered to their respective dormitories while others researched in the library, practiced magic in empty classrooms, or studied in groups.
Draco found himself wandering the library, looking for a quiet corner to hide in. With so many students occupying the Slytherin dormitory, even his room wouldn't be much of a haven. He wanted to be alone. But as he drifted among the shelves, he heard the unmistakable voice of Pansy.
"And how much did your uncle pay to force Draco to take a starved little skeleton like you for a match?"
"H-he didn't—"
Draco moved toward the voices, quietly walking the length of a nearby bookshelf until he could see into the adjacent alcove. Amaris was sitting at a table, staring intently at a book she held in both hands. Pansy was standing on the other side, her hands on her hips. It was a familiar scene, but not one Draco had witnessed in a long time—not while carrying these romantic feelings. He knew he should intervene—he wanted to—but his feet wouldn't move.
"Oh, how happy you must be to have seduced one of Pureblood society's most eligible wizards."
"No, I didn't—" Amaris tried to protest.
Pansy scoffed. "Liar. He's marrying you."
"Yes, but he doesn't want to marry me. He's just trying to protect me."
"Protect you? Why would he do a thing like that? You don't think he likes you, do you?" Pansy laughed. "You? Lady Gravefoot? You're a blood traitor. You're going to get him killed, don't you know that?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Or maybe that's been your plan all along. Turn your enemies into allies so you can stab them in the back?"
"Of course not!"
"I'm sure you'd like to do the same to me, but I'll never give you that chance."
Amaris slammed her hands onto the table and shot to her feet. Pansy jerked back in shock and Draco's eyes went wide.
"For seven years, you have mocked my skinniness and made me feel ugly," Amaris said, punching each consonant, "and I believed you. By the end of third year, I was so desperate to gain weight that I spent the entire summer binge eating until I hurled, over and over again. I couldn't gain a single pound."
Draco held his breath. He was not supposed to hear this, but he couldn't make his feet move. He could only stare at Amaris. Embarrassment burned her cheeks and her lower lip quivered but there was ferocity in her blue eyes as she glared at Pansy.
"No matter what my friends said about my looks, I never felt pretty," Amaris continued. "To this day, if someone compliments my appearance, I doubt them. You have shattered my self-esteem into pieces."
Guilt ripped through Draco, his chest tightening painfully. He had assumed her bewildered expressions whenever he complimented her were because she thought he was lying, never because she believed she was ugly.
"If there was ever a person I truly hated, it was you," Amaris ground out, "but I hated myself even more for giving you that much power over me. I don't know why your words affected me so deeply. Perhaps it was because, when I first saw you, I thought you were so pretty, like a doll. And you were—pretty and heartless and cruel."
Pansy swallowed, paling at the honesty. Draco pressed closer to the bookshelf, watching the girls square off. Only once had he seen Amaris lose her temper, but he had never in his life seen Pansy so utterly silenced.
"And then," Amaris rasped, "fifth year, you heard a girl scream and went to check on her, just to make sure she was okay. That girl was me. I hid from you, but I saw what you did. You couldn't have known who screamed, but you still went to check, to make sure she was all right." She took a deep, shaky breath. "And I knew then that you weren't heartless. That underneath the bully was a girl who cared about others. I don't know why you picked me all those years ago, why you hated me so much, but I knew that I had to forgive you."
Pansy let out a rush of air in surprise, her brow wrinkled with a frown.
"I'm still working on it," Amaris admitted. "But even though I can't yet bring myself not to hate you, I would never wish violence on you. And if you ever screamed, I would come running to help you, too."
And then Amaris snatched up her book and rushed out of the alcove. Draco stayed only long enough to see Pansy choke on a big exhale, covering her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. He hurried out of the library, following the sound of shoes quickly clapping against the stone. He didn't know what he planned to do once he caught her, only that he felt compelled to do so.
You have shattered my self-esteem into pieces. The words echoed in his mind as her footsteps echoed in the hall. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but she had admitted that she wouldn't believe him. And the way she had desperately tried to gain weight before fourth year… It made him cringe with guilt. He had been responsible for helping Pansy tear her down, had mocked her fragility, and yet she still tried so hard with him, to be his friend.
Amaris went down the stairs toward the ground floor and aimed for the Hufflepuff dormitory. He knew he would never be able to follow her down there and, if he ran fast enough to catch her from behind, she would know he was chasing her. Draco glanced at the rain beating against the courtyard, winced, and made a split-second decision to cut across. He dropped his satchel, ripped off his sweater, then dashed out into the rain. He was soaked almost instantly. Draco cursed the cold, body temperature dropping whole degrees.
By the time he made it to the other side, he was freezing and dripping. Leaving a trail of water down the new corridor, he headed for the junction that would put him in Amaris's path. As he came around the corner, they almost collided.
"Draco," she gasped, eyeing him up and down. "You're drenched."
"Obviously," he retorted, letting the water sliding down his face mask any emotions that might have given him away.
"Here, let me…" She started to fumble for her wand, but her hand was trembling.
"It's fine," he muttered, watching her warily. "Why are you shaking?"
She looked at her hands, breath coming quick, and then she looked at him, her eyes bouncing over his white shirt plastered to his skin and the water dripping from his hair and chin onto his cheeks and collarbone. She swallowed then met his gaze.
"I think its adrenaline," she said as she again reached for her wand. "I-I just stood up to Pansy." There was a strangely placid expression on her face. "I've never done that before."
She waved her wand at him as if to dry his clothes, but it clattered from her hand. He frowned and took a step closer to her. Suddenly her knees gave out. Draco lurched forward and yanked her against his chest to keep her from falling over.
"Salazar—" he cursed, struggling to find a good hold to support her weight. She wasn't heavy, but the angle was awkward enough that they were both being dragged toward the ground. He managed to hook one arm around her waist and the other across her shoulder blades, pinning her against him to stabilize them.
She winced, her face pressed into his wet chest, her fingers clinging to his shirt. Her touch was like a hot brand against his frigid skin and, if holding her wasn't a result of her collapsing, he would have considered it erotic as hell.
"Draco," she rasped, and then suddenly her eyes closed and she slumped into his arms.
"Amaris," he blurted, alarmed, but she was out cold.
Draco immediately scooped her up and rushed to the hospital wing. He passed several groups of students and ignored their wary stares, but he could hear the whispering as he went by. The rumors would be circulating soon—what had the Death Eater done to his poor Hufflepuff fiancée?
When he reached the hospital, Madam Pomfrey jumped up from her desk and immediately guided him toward a bed.
"She fainted," he explained as he laid her down. "We were talking and she just fainted. I don't know what happened."
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said dismissively as she bent over her patient. "You can go." She waved her hand at him, shooing him away, but he planted his feet at the foot of the bed. She did a double-take when she saw he remained but did not try to send him away again.
Draco waited in agonizing quiet as Madam Pomfrey performed her examinations. Only ten minutes had passed when Professor Sprout burst into the ward, huffing and puffing as she waddled over, concern wrinkling her sweaty face.
"What happened?" she gasped, eyeing Draco suspiciously.
Madam Pomfrey announced, "She's fine, Pomona. Dehydrated and a touch malnourished—"
"Merlin!" Professor Sprout gasped.
"—but she'll recover with a little rest and sustenance."
"Thank goodness!" Professor Sprout dabbed at her forehead, sighing in relief. "And what are you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" she wanted to know, an edge to her tone.
"He's the one who brought her in," Madam Pomfrey answered for him.
"What for? What happened to you? You're soaking wet."
"I got caught in the rain," he ground out then looked at the healer. "Why did she pass out?"
"She likely over-exerted herself," Madam Pomfrey told him. "Which begs the question how, seeing as you said you were only talking."
"We were just talking," he insisted, not liking the way Professor Sprout's eyes narrowed. "She was running—we almost ran into each other, in fact. She asked why I was wet, pulled her wand to use a drying spell, and then fell over. She was shaking."
Professor Sprout studied him like she might a plant with a fungal infection. Madam Pomfrey just nodded knowingly.
"Yes, running would have done it," she said. "She should wake soon, and we'll want to have plenty of water and something to eat when she does."
Madam Pomfrey started to walk away. Madam Sprout turned to follow her, stopped, glanced back at him, and flicked her wand in his direction, instantly drying his clothes. Then she followed the healer, the two women murmuring to each other. Draco caught bits and pieces of their conversation—something about Professor Sprout coordinating with the house elves to create a special soup full of healthy roots and vegetables to help her recover faster, as well as a super-hydrating beverage.
Draco looked at Amaris sleeping. He was filled with both relief at knowing she was all right and anger that she had gotten herself into this predicament. He remembered the way Theo had scolded her last semester for not eating. She had told Draco that she just hadn't had an appetite. He had assumed it was the war and the turmoil at home, finding out her uncle was a Death Eater and all. Of course, it would continue after finding out her tutor had been murdered, and on her behalf.
Footsteps hurried closer and Draco looked up to see Theo coming toward him. He stopped by the bed, taking in the sleeping Hufflepuff, and muttered, "Bollocks."
"She fainted," Draco explained, "from dehydration."
"Dehydration?"
"And not eating properly."
"Bollocks," he cursed. "This is why I tried to eat lunch with her—to make her eat something."
"She didn't have an appetite."
"No one has an appetite, but we still have to eat, don't we?"
Draco eyed Theo's flustered expression, surprised by how much emotion he was actually showing. Normally, he was completely calm, cracking jokes to hide his pain or fear, but now he was frowning, clearly troubled.
Draco pulled up a chair next to Amaris and sank into it, propped his arm on the bed, and let his fingertips rest against hers. A few minutes later, a pitcher of orange liquid and a cup were brought up on a tray and placed by the bed.
Theo moved to the bedside cabinet to examine the pitcher. Then he paced to the foot of the bed. He meandered in slow circles. He crossed to Amaris, bent over her to examine her face for twinges, and then went back to walking in circles. It was driving Draco mad.
"Will you do me a favor?" he asked. Theo stopped pacing and looked up at him. "Get my things? I left them by the courtyard."
"What for?"
Draco didn't answer, only added, "And Amaris dropped her wand near there, too, on the way to the Hufflepuff dormitory."
Theo glanced once more at Amaris and then nodded. "Sure," he said reluctantly and then set off.
Draco relaxed back into his chair, soaking in the silence. He kept his gaze on Amaris, his fingertips against hers, and thought about everything that had happened in the last hour—reexamining each detail in different lights. One moment he was depressed by her confession to Pansy, riddled with pity and regret. The next, he was proud of her, realizing how strong she had been to stand up to her, to not let her hatred break her. And then he was moved, because he realized that even though she claimed to hate Pansy, she had promised to help her if she needed it. Goyle had been more right than he knew. There wasn't a cruel bone in her body.
Suddenly Amaris stirred, pulling him from his thoughts. He straightened in the chair but kept his hand in hers as her eyes slowly blinked open.
"Draco," she said, her voice scratchy from sleep. She looked around. "I'm in the hospital?"
"You fainted," he told her.
She winced in embarrassment. "Did I really?"
He kept his face as neutral as possible when he asked, "You don't remember?"
"I…" She frowned. "I remember running into you in the hall. You were wet. I took out my wand… It's all hazy from there."
Draco leaned forward and opened his mouth to fill in the blanks when Theo suddenly appeared, dropping Draco's things at the end of the bed.
"You're awake," he announced good-naturedly, a smile on his face. "'Bout bloody time."
"Hello, Theo," she rasped. Her fingers twitched against Draco's, curling into his.
"What did I tell you, hm?" he asked as he picked up the pitcher and filled the cup with its contents. "You need to eat or you'd waste away, and here you are." He thrust the cup at her. "Drink."
"What is it?" she asked as she took the offered cup in her free hand.
"It'll help rehydrate you," he answered.
Draco kept his gaze on Theo as Amaris drained the cup. He was surprised at how much of a caregiver his fellow Slytherin was. Thinking back, Theo had been as considerate to him when he had been in the hospital—pouring him water, making sure he drank, worrying at his bedside and all with a smile on his face to mask his concern.
"I can't believe I fainted," she muttered glumly as Theo poured her another cup. "I'm sorry for troubling you both—"
"What are friends for, ey?" Theo said.
Draco just stared. Amaris chewed the inside of her lip, avoiding his gaze by staring at the bed, but her hand remained in his. When Theo offered her the drink, she took it hesitantly but only managed a few sips.
"So what's wrong with you, then?" Theo asked. "You determined to starve yourself?"
"It was an accident…" she murmured. "I wasn't hungry."
"Missing breakfast's an accident. You're lucky Draco was there to catch you, or it could've been worse."
"I know. I'm sorry…"
Draco narrowed his gaze. He didn't like hearing her apologize to Theo. He knew his friend was only trying to help—and Merlin knew Draco wanted to force-feed her a loaf of bread or two after this—but if anyone was going to scold her, it would be Draco. If she was going to be sorry and show that meek expression to anyone, it would be him.
"Is this how you plan to fight back?" Draco snapped. He felt Theo's eyes on him as Amaris lifted her gaze to his. "You won't last five minutes."
There was a long moment of heavy silence before Amaris finally nodded.
"You're right," she said. "I was foolish. I should have been more cognizant of my health." She looked directly at Draco as she said, "I promise I won't miss another meal."
Draco held her gaze a moment before looking away, pretending not to care. He caught sight of movement by the door and saw Madam Pomfrey was bringing a large, steaming bowl of soup toward them.
"Here we are, my dear," she said, passing the tray off to Theo before she bent to check Amaris's vitals. "Good." She hummed as she continued her examination. "Good." She checked the cup and saw it was half drained. "Keep drinking, Ms. Grey. It will rehydrate you by morning."
"Yes, ma'am," Amaris answered.
Madam Pomfrey nodded and then stepped back. She pointed to the soup. "Now eat up. All of it." And then she swept away.
Theo looked down at the tray and the bowl, clearly unsure if he was supposed to spoon-feed her or let her take it herself, but the bowl was nearly as big as her head. He quickly set it on her lap and offered her the spoon. Draco watched her take it with her free hand and begin to eat, noticing how she did not seem to want to let go of his hand even though it was an effort to keep the tray balanced in her lap.
They were quiet as they watched her sip on a few spoonfuls, counting the times the utensil dipped into the broth, how many times it surfaced with chunks of vegetables. After only about six bites, she let the spoon rest in the bowl.
"Keep eating," Theo urged. "You heard Madam Pomfrey."
"But I'm not hungry," she protested.
"I know, but it's for your own good," he pressed.
"I don't think I can—"
"Eat," Draco ordered her. He felt Theo's eyes on him again as Amaris flinched. She hesitated then took up the spoon again. She took small bites and rested between each one, but she kept eating like he had told her to. Her fingers curled deeper into his, as though seeking his support, and he answered her by letting his thumb graze the side of her hand.
Draco listened to Amaris and Theo make small talk as she ate, glad for Theo's bedside manner but still wishing his friend would go the bloody hell away so they could be alone…
Before they ever got the chance for that, the arrival of three Hufflepuff girls interrupted their conversation. They eyed Draco and Theo warily as they approached, forcing wan smiles onto their faces instead of verbally greeting them. Yet when they focused on Amaris, their expressions softened. Curiously, Draco felt Amaris's hand tighten on his, as though bracing for a confrontation.
"Hey," one of the girls said quietly, and Draco thought her name was Coral Crimby. "We came as soon as Professor Sprout told us. Are you all right?"
Amaris nodded and answered, "I'm all right."
Coral and the other girls seemed genuinely relieved at the news. Coral stepped closer to the bed and gripped the footboard.
"We came to take you to your room so you can rest," she said. "Madam Pomfrey said it was all right."
"Thank you," Amaris said, passing the half-empty bowl off to Theo as Draco stood up. She swung her legs over Draco's side of the bed and slowly stood, swaying as she rose up. Draco caught her by the shoulders to steady her. She looked up at him with those blue eyes and offered a grateful smile. That's when he should have let go of her, but he didn't.
"So, Madam Pomfrey said she needed…" Theo began, drawing the Hufflepuff girls away to give them a moment of privacy. Draco vaguely heard him murmuring about the soup and drink that Amaris needed to consume.
"Thank you," she said when they were alone.
Draco just stared at her. He had no idea what to say. He couldn't promise to stand against the Dark Lord because that meant standing against his family. But he couldn't dismiss her either, not when he had gone through all of this trouble just to make sure she was all right. Not when he still wanted to be holding her hand.
"You're still officially my match," he explained quietly, tightly, and then he turned and walked out, forgetting his stuff on the bed. He just wanted to leave before Theo could catch up with him, before anyone could stop him with any questions. He had to think, to clear his mind.
Draco wandered the castle for hours until he was so bone-tired that he had to go back to his room. Thankfully, the common room was mostly empty, so he easily made it to his room without anyone stopping him. But as he came through the door, he froze. Pansy was sitting on his bed, staring glumly at the floor. She lifted her head to look at him, her hands folded between her knees, a frown on her lovely face.
"How is she?" Pansy asked awkwardly.
Draco came into the room and closed the door. "You're not really worried, are you?"
"I heard she fainted."
"She did, but she's fine. Just dehydrated."
"I see." She stared at her hands between her knees. "Then that's good, I suppose."
Draco loosened his tie. "Feeling guilty?"
Her mouth thinned into a line. "No," she said. "She told you what happened?"
"I overheard," he admitted. "Did it make you happy?"
She looked up at him with a guarded expression.
"To know you won," he added.
"Did I?" she asked with the same snarky edge he was used to hearing wielded against others. "I don't think I did. At all." Pansy looked away. Draco stood very still, waiting for whatever was coming next. "If you ask me what the point of picking on someone is, I would tell you these results are the point. But if you ask me what my intentions were when I did it, I would tell you that these weren't them. I knew better, but I didn't mean for…"
Pansy pinched her lips shut and shook her head. Draco slowly moved toward the bed, seeing that his stuff had been dumped ceremoniously onto it. Theo had probably stopped by with his things, wondering what the hell was his problem. Draco sat down beside Pansy, an arm's length between them. He understood what she was saying—that she knew what bullying someone could do to them, but it had never dawned on her that she was making an impact. Draco wondered how many people he might have hurt in the same way that Pansy had hurt Amaris.
"After everything I said to her, after everything she felt, she still turned out so…insufferably nice. And the way she looks. It's unfair. She won everyone over—Goyle and Theo and even you. What does that say about her?" Pansy suddenly gripped the edge of the bed, as though preparing to run. "What does that say about me?"
Draco looked at her in surprise.
"Am I ugly, Draco?" she asked. He stiffened as she looked at him, the tiniest hint of tears in her eyes.
He realized then that she wasn't asking for a physical assessment… He didn't know how to answer her. In light of what she had done and how it had affected someone, "no" seemed like a lie, but "yes" didn't feel entirely truthful, either. The fact that she was undergoing such self-reflection was a sign that she sensed something was wrong and wanted to fix it, wasn't it? It was complicated.
"No," he settled on. Pansy grimaced and he saw disappointment on her face, as though she knew he was lying and had expected the truth from him. He shifted his weight. "No more than me," he added without elaboration. She could interpret it how she wanted.
Pansy nodded in acquiescence and faced forward. After a moment, she asked, "Why did you fall for her?"
"Why?" Draco balked, feeling interrogated.
"I have a right to know, don't I?" was all she replied with, Draco didn't ask her to explain why. She didn't need to. He didn't want to hear it spoken out loud, to have what he had suspected all these years confirmed. It would make him feel worse. Because he had known, deep down, how she felt about him, what she hoped for, and he had manipulated those feelings when it suited him.
Draco took a deep breath as he considered how to answer her. It was…complicated. His interest in Amaris had always been physical when he was younger. From third year when he occasionally happened to think she looked cute to fifth year when he thought she was so beautiful that he regularly began fantasizing about her. Over time, he had discovered more things, all physical, that attracted him—her delicate manners, the way they looked together in a photograph, how well she danced, and the way certain colors and outfits could change her into a drop of sunshine, a seductress, a sweet student, a sexy woman, or an icy Slytherin.
Draco supposed that first Christmas they had spent at his house, he had discovered he enjoyed talking to her. He became fond of her struggle for civility when he was rude to her. He enjoyed seeing her flustered and cross as much as he enjoyed her smiles. He couldn't say it was her kindness or gentleness that won him over—not in the way Goyle seemed taken in by it, like it was a thing to be cherished and preserved, or the way it had tempered Theo—but he did like that softness that led her to accept him despite his faults, his Dark Mark.
Maybe he fell for her because, no matter the circumstances, when he was with her, he never had to be the Malfoy heir, only Draco. He didn't have that luxury with anyone else—not even his parents.
"I don't know," he said. Pansy glared at him accusingly, as though he was holding out on her. "I don't know," he said again, looking her in the eyes. None of his possible answers felt adequate to explain why he had fallen in love with a woman opposite him in every way. "I just…did."
A single tear ran away from her before Pansy managed to straighten her spine and wrestle her expression into a scowl. "You know there's a fight coming, don't you?" It wasn't a question. It was a warning. "There's no room for people like her on his side." Pansy stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and headed for the door. She reached for the handle and hesitated. "It's not nice to play with a girl's heart, Draco." She looked at him over her shoulder. "Even hers."
And then she walked out and primly shut the door. Draco scowled and wondered how many of his friends planned to lecture him over his feelings for a certain Hufflepuff witch.
Author's Note: Pansy, like most of the Slytherin characters, was nothing more than a symbol of wrong behavior, there for the sole purpose of propping up the good guys by contrasting them with her cruelty. I wanted to explore Pansy as a person.