Title: The Truth About Trees
Author: Tiny Q
E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com
A/N: Oh dear. I have had this written up in my book since Christmas Eve Day. Sorry about that. But look! It's here! Hurray. Oh, don't be mad . . . Please? How about you just read the story and pretend like it's all good between us . . . And remember: I own nothing!
The Truth About Trees
Chapter 6
The Proverbial Soap
My scream startled me. I never scream. Even when I'm terrified I usually just yelp or jerk violently. And there have been plenty of times for me to realize this. I did grow up with seven brothers after all.
But for the life of me I screamed. Loudly. But not for very long however. My attacker, though caught off guard for a moment, very quickly clamped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back against him. Don't ask me how I knew it was a him, I just did. The shovel clattered to the ground.
My heart racing now and terrifying images of being dragged into the forest I panicked. I jerked my right elbow back as hard as I could and felt it connect with his stomach. He let out an "oof" of air and released me. I leapt away and ran a few yards before daring to look back. When I finally did what I saw made my heart stop.
It wasn't some monster or dark creature doubled up, clutching his stomach. Perhaps in some people's eyes but no longer in mine. How perfect, eh? It was Draco Malfoy.
"Oh no!" I gasped and rushed over to him, feeling my face burning red. "Are you alright?" I reached out for him, but he jerked away.
"What does it look like?" he demanded. "What the fuck did you think you were doing Weasley?!"
"Well I-" I stammered. Wait a minute. He's the one who sneaked up on me and scared the living day lights out of me. "What do you mean what did I think I was doing? I was bloody well defending myself, that's what," I snapped, still feeling slightly bad for hurting him. "What did you think you were doing, scaring me like that?!"
To this he didn't respond, only glared up at me through his fringe of platinum blonde hair. After a moment, still clutching his stomach, he pulled himself up into a proper standing position. It was then that I noticed what he was wearing. A sleek, black cloak lined with some type of silver fur. It rose up at the collar, eliminating the need for a scarf. It put my worn hand-me-down to shame.
He must have noticed me looking at it, for he began to smirk. Despite the fact that he was still clutching his stomach, he made it look as though it were the thing to be doing. How does he do that?
"Cold Weasley?" he drawled, his sneer broadening.
"No," I hissed, resisting the urge to pull my own cloak closer around myself. Anyone would be cold in this weather, standing about foe an hour. Well I wasn't really standing around, but you get the idea. "I was just wondering how many animals had to die for it."
"Eight silver foxes," he said simply, his eyes twinkling slightly. Silver foxes? But I thought they were considered Muggle animals. I guess not.
"You're disgusting," I hissed, retrieving my shovel and readjusting my headband which was now sending my short hair up in all directions. "Now if you'll excuse me," I sneered, shoveling a chunk of snow. "I still have the East Side to shovel."
"Oh, don't let me stop you," he said nonchalantly, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture. I glared at him but continued to shovel.
It was odd. Ok, it was really odd. He simply stood there with me, not saying a word. No insults. No attempts at conversation. No nothing. Yet despite myself I welcomed the company. I didn't feel the fear of the unknown forest creature at all and somehow the shoveling seemed to go by quicker. Before I knew it, I was nearly done the East Side.
It was then that I noticed Malfoy had stopped moving. He was standing stalk still, peering at the forest. I stopped my shoveling and walked over to him, trying to follow his gaze. There was nothing there but trees and snow. And you can't tell me that's what he's scared of cause then he should never be outside again.
"What is it?" I finally whispered, the hairs on the back of my neck beginning to rise.
He turned to me after a second, his expression unreadable. "Nothing," he said with an odd tone to his voice. It wasn't sinister in any way. More like concerned in some odd, Malfoyish way. Now I know there's something wrong. "Finish shoveling."
I stared at him for a moment before I turned back to my job. The warm, safe feeling I had felt was gone now. The snow seemed heavier. The wind colder.
Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.
Ten feet left.
I glanced back at Malfoy. He had his wand out. I shoveled faster.
Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.
There was desperation in my movements now.
Was that why he came out here? To . . . protect me? But why? Why protect me? It's not like I'm anything to him.
Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.
One foot left.
Shovel, lift, toss. Shovel, lift, toss.
"Done," I breathed, tossing the last of the snow. I looked around. I couldn't see anything but Malfoy was still on guard.
"Then let's go," he hissed, not looking at me. Frowning, I hurried over to the shed where I had first received the shovel and replaced it. Then with Malfoy beside me we quickly walked back to the castle and went through the doors to the Entrance Hall. After a moment I could feel my toes begin to defrost. Painfully.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, surprising myself. How rude.
"Do what, Weasley?" he sneered, turning to look at me while removing his leather gloves.
"Come out there with me?" I elaborated. "I mean, I'm your enemy's little sister. I'm a Weasley. I-" I cut myself off, surprised that I had even uttered the first part of it. How could I be so stupid?
He looked at me for a moment, a funny look on his face that I can't describe. "I don't care what you are," he said finally. I felt me eyes grow wide. He opened his mouth to say more then seemed to realize what he had said for his eyes went slightly wide as well. "I have to go," he said hurriedly and strode off.
He doesn't-
"Malfoy, wait!" I called before I could stop myself. He stopped walking but did not turn around. What was I doing? "Thanks." I called before sanity regained control.
He paused for a moment longer then continued his quick pace to the Slytherin Dorms. I stood there, defrosting, staring at where he had gone.
He doesn't care what I am. He doesn't care. And what was he going to say after it? Dare I ponder it? He obviously hadn't meant to let it slip. But he did. And he doesn't care what I am.
~*~
I don't know what came over me to make me go out there. It was cold and yet I still pulled on my new cloak and gloves and trodded my way out there. I had overheard Snape give Weasley her detention and I hadn't even thought to go out there. Yet while I was sitting in my Common Room attempting to read my book (Advanced Potions for Defense Purposes. Fascinating read.) I kept thinking of her. And the more I thought of her, the more this bad feeling in my stomach grew. It grew until it felt like I couldn't breathe.
Before I knew what exactly I was doing, I got ready and went outside. I didn't see her at first so I had to follow the trail of shoveled snow. The longer it took and the farther I walked the more nervous I got. What would I find at the end of the path? A fallen shovel and a trail of blood to the forest? Her lying there dead? Or simply a trail half shoveled but no sign of her.
Either way I began to feel panicky. Me. A Malfoy. Panicky over a Weasley. It's absurd. Unheard of. And yet it happened. The longer it took the worse it got. Until I rounded a corner and there she was, perfectly safe, shoveling snow. I felt my hear twinge.
I don't know why I tried to scare her either. I think it was some sort of rebellious way for me to seek revenge on the panicky feeling. To scare Weasley and make the feeling go away and have a ligament reason to be out there. Boy did that backfire. I pity her actual attacker. If she ever has one.
And then I had looked around. Despite the fact that I was out there with her, the nervous feeling was still there. And then I saw them. Or at least, I thought I saw them. Golden eyes, shinning through the forest brush. Probably just an owl, but never the less I was spooked. Bad feelings and golden eyes. They were only there for a second though. Gone the next. They did not return.
I still don't understand why I opened my mouth. How could I be so stupid? How could I say that what she is doesn't matter to me?! It does! She's a Weasley! I'm a Malfoy! What's next? Am I going to proclaim my undying love to her?! Or better yet: ask her to marry me so we can live happily ever after and have a dozen little children so our parents can have lots of grandchildren and generally improve our happiness?!?!
My god, shoot me now. Stitch my mouth shut before I utter that.
Getting back to my dorm I decided to take a shower. There is no way I am going to fall asleep with all this on my mind. Even if it means I will have to take another one tomorrow. Environmentalists beware. Draco Malfoy is out to pollute our world's waters.
Water has always had some sort of soothing effect on me. If only for a time. I don't know how, it just does. Rain, showers, even water falls with their gigantic power.
I turned the water on as hard and as hot as I could stand and just stood under it. Closing my eyes and feeling the water massage my back.
If only life were as simple as falling water. Your only purpose to sustain life on this planet by falling or simply lying there, completely directed by gravity. No worries as to why you can't keep your mouth shut around a certain girl or about families expectations or careers or the idiots in your house. Just plain, simple existence.
I opened my eyes and looked about the small, wet cubical I was in. There was a small piece of soap caught in the drain, just sitting there, waiting to be washed away. It was pitiful really. It was going to die anyway so why bother trying to keep living?
Everything in this world dies eventually. We are born to die. So why would this pitiful slice of soap try and hold on? It was useless now. Too small to be of any use to anyone, save a mouse.
But then, that's what our world is, isn't it? The personification of the survival of the fittest. That those with the will carry on. The question is: carry on to do what? Exist? Live? For what? So they can die? Save others so they can live as well? Postpone their deaths? Was that right? (Hmm, suppose that was more than one question, eh?)
How could all that spur up from a simple piece of soap? A sad, pathetic piece of soap? How could thoughts of death and mortality spring from a piece of soap? Is that how others came to realize what they were meant to do? To see something pathetic and take pity?
Perhaps that is all people need in this world. To receive a bit of pity from the strong and be leant a hand. To be helped out of their rut so they can realize their full potential.
I stooped down and picked up the soap, replacing it on the rack. That simple task made my heart twinge. For some reason Weasley popped into my head at that moment. The feeling had been the same one I had felt earlier that day around her.
Come to think of it, my going out there to- protect her. Yes, I believe that is what I did. Though completely unintentionally. It had more meaning than a lot of things I have done over the years. It was a feeling ten times better than rescuing a piece of soap. Perhaps . . . Perhaps I should look deeper into this . . .
Ahh! Hot! Water too hot! Hastily turning the water off I concluded my shower was at an end.
So with a slightly burnt back and a slightly less troubled mind I crawled into bed, my roommates already snoring away. Despite all this, sleep came quickly. It was a dreamless sleep, my first in a long time. Rather disturbing really. I have come to enjoy my dreams. Even the odd or disturbing ones. In a way they are a means of escape. My dream-self always seems to know what he is doing or where he is going. Even if the signs of the dreams are omens of the opposite.
Saturday. Nothing ever happens on Saturday in the Slytherin Common Room. It's taboo to do homework and they don't often have anything intelligent to say. So what do they do? Sit about like great lumps and gossip or plot. That's what even stupid Slytherins are good for. Plotting. The more malicious the better.
"Draco!" Crabbe called from across the room as I made my way down. There was a small crowd over by the portrait hole. Scratch the nothing happening bit. I moved over to my large 'friend' and looked at what he was pointing at. "Are you staying for the holidays?" he asked.
I felt my stomach drop. The sheet was up already? But I hadn't even thought up my plan yet. I haven't had time. What have I been doing lately? Oh yes, Weasley and father. What a grand combination.
"I'm not sure," I replied, my mind drawing a blank. "I doubt it though," I added, looking at the large seventh year in the eye. I'm not short and yet Crabbe and Goyle both seem to loom over me. It's disturbing that I never really noticed it before.
"Oh," Crabbe responded but his face did not fall as I had expected. "That's good," he said. What? "Mom wants me home this year. I'm not sure about Goyle but I think he's going home too. Last year as children and all."
I was being ditched. I can't believe it! Ditched! Sure, I don't like either of them. But for them to ditch me? What does that say? Life really sucks if I get ditched by them.
Well at least I won't have to come up with some complicated, yet highly entertaining plan to get rid of them. No. All I would have to do is talk to Snape and request a "mandatory" assignment for the holidays. Yes. Maybe life is looking up.
~*~
By the time I got back to the Common Room it was empty. Was it really that late? Midnight. Where did the time go? I made to go up to my dorm.
"Ginny," someone called by the dying fire. I recognized the voice at once.
"What are you doing up, Harry?" I asked, walking towards him. He was seated in a solitary chair, partially hidden by the shadows. Still dressed in his school robes. He must be waiting for someone. Me.
"Take a seat," he said instead of answering my question, summoning a chair with his wand. Frowning, I sat in the proffered chair next to his and waited for him to elaborate. "I know this is really none of my business," he started and I felt my spirits droop further. What was this all about? It was late. I want sleep. "By all accounts it should be Ron sitting here, not me. But your brother's been off in Never Never Land for a while, so I guess I'll just have to fill his shoes."
I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand. "You know it's true. I can see it in your eyes ervery time Hermione and him are together." I felt a stab of anger in my heart at this. I hadn't spoken to Hermione for a week. Not since that bitch- "And I heard about your falling out with her. So I guess that explains the detention, eh?" He gave me a half smile.
"Harry, what is this all about?" I asked. Tiredness was making itself ever present. All I longed to do was crawl into my nice, soft bed, under my nice, soft sheets.
"I saw you out there," he began. "With Malfoy."
"Yeah, so?" I replied slowly. Perhaps I was just overly tiered, but it simply wasn't clicking.
"Is there something going on?" he asked softly.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I don't want to deal with this right now.
"Is there something going on between you and Malfoy?" he asked more loudly. "Cause if there is- He's not a good person."
"What?" I asked in disbelief. "There is nothing going on between us!"
"Then why was he out there with you tonight?" Harry demanded. Good question. Why was he out there really?
"I don't know," I admitted truthfully. "I think he was trying to scare me."
"You see?" he said with emphasis. "He's a no good, slimy-"
"Harry, back off," I interrupted firmly, surprising myself. His concern was both touching, tear-jerking and angering. In my tired state of mind I leaned towards the angry side. "I know you are always searching for dragons to fight. I would be too if I had your history. But I'm not a little girl anymore Harry. I'm not being controlled by Riddle. Everything I am doing is of my own freewill. And if I want to be around Malfoy then there is nothing you can do to stop me."
"But he's a Malfoy," Harry said desperately. "Don't you see? He's been our enemy since first year! His father gave you Riddle's diary in the first place!"
"Don't you dare compare Draco to his father," I hissed, getting the sudden mental image of Draco in that tree, the letter in his pocket. "They are nothing alike. He's changed. He's realized his past mistakes. He's no longer his father's clone."
Harry started at me, dumbstruck. I glared back, my chest heaving. I wasn't sure where all that anger came from, but it felt good now that it was out. But perhaps I had been a bit harsh. Harry was only trying to help after all. I opened my mouth to apologize.
"You really think he's changed then?" Harry interrupted me before I had a chance to speak.
"Yes, I do," I stated firmly. Well he has changed on this inside. I think his outward attitude is all an act for protection. Like a shell. A turtle's shell that he carries about with him everywhere.
"Then just promise me," Harry said softly after a moment's pause, getting to his feet and standing before me. He reached out and took my hand. I felt my eyes widen slightly and I looked into his enchanting green ones. "Just promise me that you'll be careful. He's still a Malfoy after all."
"I know," I responded darkly, thinking to his harsh exterior. "I know Harry. And I promise."
~*~
I stood outside my potions professor's office door for a while, feeling quite foolish. I wanted to knock but I couldn't fight off the terrible feeling in my stomach. It was not like I was doing anything wrong. I simply don't want to go home. But Crabbe's words kept echoing in my mind: Last year as children.
I shook my head. Why was this such a big deal all of a sudden? It wasn't as if I missed Christmas at home. There was nothing to do there anyway except perhaps spy on my father's dinner parties. And what fun that is.
"Mr. Malfoy." A voice said form behind me, causing my to jump. I whirled around to see Professor Snape staring at me, a stack of books in his hands. "Why exactly are you staring at my door?"
I felt myself flush with embarrassment. How long had he been standing there? I really must look like an idiot.
"Uh, I was trying to find you," I responded, shifting my weight. Since when do I get nervous around Snape? Yet here I am squirming and flushing like a first year. Disgraceful.
"By staring through my door?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. After a moment of staring at me he grinned slightly. Or at least, it could only be called a grin. Permanent upward twitch was right up there next to it.
"I was going to knock," I muttered as he made his way past me and opened the door in question. He went in and gestured for me to follow.
"Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy," he said, placing the pile of books neatly on a corner of his desk. I stared at them. Snape was odd that way. Everything around him was perfectly neat and yet his appearance was far from. I have always wondered what color his hair really is.
I looked over at him and realized he was watching me. I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. His black eyes were so cold. So calculating, seeming to bore through my mind. I stared back.
"It's your father," he said finally, looking away.
"How did you know?" I asked, completely taken by surprise. Can Snape read minds? That would be an interesting development.
"I've heard him talking," Snape sighed, crossing his arms. It was as though the man were suddenly chilled. He looked me in the eyes. "Talking to the Dark Lord. He seems to think you will be of age soon. And you will be."
I felt my eyes widen. He had been talking? I always thought- no. It makes sense. Terrible, morbid sense. I just wasn't expecting it so soon.
Snape had begun to stare at me again. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Does he think I want to follow in my father's footsteps? I've never shown him reason to think otherwise.
"I don't want to go home," I said in deft, startling myself. I hadn't even realized I was speaking. I didn't look up. Oh why can't I look up? It's Snape! My favorite professor. Why can't I look him in the eyes?
"An extra credit assignment?" he offered and I looked up at him. There was something about his expression that startled me. It looked almost relieved. Proud.
"Please," I nodded in grateful agreement. He knew what I want. I wouldn't have to explain it.
"Alright," he said, pulling out an old quill. "But you will have to face this eventually, Draco. It will not simply go away."
"I know," I admitted, feeling relief. "But I can't deal with it now. I need more time. More time to sort it all out."
"You had better sort it through quickly my boy," Snape said earnestly. "For come the end on the school year, Voldemort will be expecting new recruits."
~*~
A/N: Well there you have it. Another horrible chapter with very little plot development and a definite lack of D/G action. ~sob~ Please forgive me! The next chapter is a Christmas one. Well that's cause I wrote it just after Christmas. And there is a bit more action than all these other chapters. But don't get your hopes up. This story is really going down the drain me thinks. ~sigh~ But thanks for reading! And please review to tell me how crappy it was.
Many thanks to: seekerpeeker, VirtualFaerie(Thanks, I needed that. Bit of a bad month. All snowy and cold like. ~sigh~), Sayo, Space Lion, Crystal(Legoals??), girl-weasley(Not really? Well that makes me feel better… J/K), Reality(Kill her eh? It's tempting I tell ya), tulzdavampslayer(Well, I guess it was), Sharlene(A shovel? I like the sounds of that…), Selvagem(Yeah, the world has issues. So does life. ~shrug~ Never mind), GinnyGINvampire00 aka Evon(Yeah, I don't think you really want to know. And didn't I mention it before? Ginny lost her left ear when she fell out of the tree! J/K) and Lallie(Yes hun, that's right. But no new words! I still can't get over Bah! Grr. Now I will have 'Gah' in my vocab as well it seems. ~sigh~ But I like your deal, so you better have that ass bit in your story soon. You can leave out the cock fight though. ~grin~)