9 – The Girl Who Was On Fire
"Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight."
― Phyllis Diller
...
Hermione was eyeing her suspiciously again over breakfast. Did Haley look as tired as she felt?
"Haley, is something bothering you? You keep frowning and stabbing at your food."
She looked up at her friend, carefully avoiding to glance toward the Slytherin table. Why would anything bother her? Apart from the fact that bloody Malfoy apparently had a crush on her? Or that the only manner in which he seemed to know how to deal with his feelings was to make her life a living hell. Or that she kept visiting him in his dreams to find out what he was hiding. Or that he had actually gone and kissed her in the dream he had last night. Haley shuddered at the memory.
"I don't get boys!" She exclaimed in frustration. "I mean, if you have a crush on someone why on earth would you treat them like they are the dirt underneath your fingernails? It doesn't make sense!"
Hermione looked at her in astonishment. "What?" She asked, putting her tea cup down. "Who are you talking about?"
"You would think they would try to make you like them. Not despise them!"
"But – who?"
"So, what do I do now?" Haley asked without reacting to Hermione's questions.
Her friend looked at her like she wasn't quite sure whether to put up with her petulant behaviour or whether to call her out on it.
She sighed. "What is it you want? Do you want him to ask you out or –"
"Merlin, no!" Haley shuddered again.
Hermione was visibly trying to be patient. "Then what–?"
"I just want it to stop. I just want to be left alone and never have to deal with all of this again!" She blurted, hiding her face in her hands. She didn't know why this bothered her so much. She felt out of her depth, like she was slowly losing control… That stupid, stupid dream! She should never have let it come to that.
"Oh." Hermione said softly, looking as if it all made sense suddenly. "You're not talking about Malfoy, are you?" She whispered into Haley's ear so nobody else could hear her.
"Do you seriously believe that git likes anyone but himself?"
"You have a point there but–"
"But nothing. Tell me what I'm supposed to do!" Deep down Haley knew that she was behaving like a spoiled brat and that it wasn't her friend's fault that she was having a hard time. But right this moment she just needed to let out her tangled up emotions and unfortunately Hermione was the one on the receiving end.
Hermione shook her head at her as if she couldn't believe they were actually friends. "Well," she started, fixing her with a stern glance. "If someone acts like an unreasonable and insufferable brat, my suggestion would be to call them out on their behaviour and not let them lash out on you for no particular reason."
Haley couldn't shake the feeling that Hermione was actually addressing her. Guiltily, she looked down at her slice of pumpkin bread.
"So, you think I should confront him?" Haley said, trying for an apologetic tone.
"If it bothers you this much," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But who are we talking about anyway? And how do you even know he has a crush on you?"
Haley was saved from answering these questions by Angelina Johnson who appeared behind her and urged her to finish up because she wanted to start practising.
"Let's go, Ron," the auburn-haired girl called to her friend who had been concerned with eating breakfast during their conversation. "See you later, Hermione."
"We're not done with that conversation!" Her friend called, as she turned to follow her captain out of the Great Hall. Haley waved at her over her shoulder but didn't reply. If she was lucky Hermione would be too busy with one of their many assignments to even notice her and Ron returning.
…
Quidditch was not Haley's favourite pass time, if she was honest. It was mostly her brother and her dad who were the quidditch fanatics in her family. But there had been a free spot as Seeker in her first year, and everyone always said what a fantastic Seeker James Potter had been and that surely she would have inherited his talent… So, just like everyone expected she had tried out, coincidentally caught the snitch and had been accepted without further questions. Since then, no one had dared kicking her off the team, not even on her worse days.
To be fair, she had a surprisingly high rate of actually catching the snitch. To say, the girl knew how to use her strengths to her advantage was an understatement. Most of the time, she closely observed the other Seekers and once they caught sight of the winged gold ball, she chased behind them, in attempt to be the first to reach it. Thanks to her godfather making sure, she always had the latest racing broom she never had trouble catching the snitch first. It was almost too easy. It was even easier when they played against Hufflepuff or Slytherin, because then she could also use her natural charm to distract the male Seekers. It worked especially well with the third-year who was currently replacing Malfoy. Sadly, the same couldn't be said about Cho Chang, who was the Seeker for Ravenclaw.
Flying, on the other hand, was a different matter. Haley had barely been able to walk, before her dad had sat her on a children's broom. It had only been able to soar a few inches above the ground but as she had grown older she had regularly gone on trips with her dad and Sirius, where they had engaged in broom races and other games, involving flying. Even if Haley wasn't much of a quidditch fan, she still cherished these memories of her childhood adventures up in the air. And after all of the stressful events of the last weeks, feeling the wind in her hair and the winter sun warm on her face, it seemed like her worries were shrinking along with the tiny world beneath her.
Training passed like a blur. Haley wasn't really focusing on anything more than the joy of flying again. She always felt especially inspired when she was on her broom. Angelina wasn't exactly pleased. But the emergence of heavy rain clouds stopped her from being too mad. Normally, their captain would have made them continue training anyway but instead she told her team to regroup in the changing rooms for a speech on how they couldn't slack off just because they won against Hufflepuff and that she didn't want to see the Slytherins win the Cup especially because this was her last year. Her passionate speech would have made James Potter proud. Haley suppressed a grin.
Not long after the rain had started it was already letting up again. Meaning, they could continue their training session after all. They walked back onto the pitch when another team made their way toward them. The green uniforms signalled that they were Slytherins.
"Merlin, is it noon already?" Angelina asked no one in particular, watching the Slytherins approaching. "I could only book the field until noon, because someone else had already booked it for the rest of the day." Her eyes narrowed. "Guess, we know who it was now."
With a sigh the older girl picked up the quaffel that was lying in front of her. It was her own. With the signature of Gwenog Jones. "We'll continue this on Monday, then. Don't be late!" She threatened with a mad glint in her dark eyes before she marched back toward the changing rooms. Haley didn't linger before following her. She could do without meeting a certain Slytherin Seeker. It was a good thing, there were no girls on the Slytherin team. It meant she could get changed without encountering anyone from the other team.
"Hails, are you gonna take a shower?" Ron asked, clapping his hand on her shoulder before she could enter the girls changing room. She… wasn't too fond of that nickname. But growing up with a father like James and a godfather like Sirius had taught her never to show the enemy – ahem, her friends – that something annoyed her. She knew from experience that he would drop it, if she pretended not to be bothered by it. She wondered if that technique might work with Malfoy as well. Perhaps she should try it sometime?
"Yes. I won't take long, though. Just give me a minute," she answered. Her friend didn't really care whether he showered right away or later in their tower or sometimes even at all. But Haley liked feeling clean and fresh after a training session.
"Um… do you mind if I head back without you? I really don't want to miss lunch," Ron explained with a look on his watch.
"Oh. No, I don't mind. Go ahead. I don't want you to starve to death," she teased him. She did feel a tiny bit uneasy at the prospect of gong back alone. She really, really didn't want to have an uncomfortable encounter with Malfoy. But that was stupid. He would be busy with training by the time she was done. Or watching the others train anyway. Haley hadn't seen him on a broomstick ever since last winter. Apparently he had some kind of injury that hindered him from flying. But in her opinion he was merely afraid of being crushed by the Gryffindor team again.
"You sure that's okay?" Ron asked. "You seemed a bit… I don't know… stressed at breakfast."
"Oh. You noticed?" She was honestly surprised that her friend had noticed anything besides his baked beans.
"Course, I noticed. Would have to be a troll not to notice that." He clapped her shoulder affectionately. Haley felt bad for underestimating her friend. "So, you okay? The Malfoy thing still bothering you? I could give him a good punch if you want."
"Well, I… I can handle it. I think." She added, thoughtlessly. She must have sounded far more uncertain than she wanted.
"You know, that thing you were planning with the gobstone. Are you still doing that? Is it working?" He asked. "You can tell me, you know? I won't tell Hermione about it."
The auburn-haired girl watched him for a moment. When had he become such a good friend? She doubted that he would be able to keep a secret from Hermione, though. He was far too smitten with her for that.
"Thanks for offering, Ron. It's a long story, though. So maybe another time? Or you'll really end up missing lunch."
"Right!" Ron looked at his watch again and shouldered his broom. "I'll save you some sandwiches. Or Hermione will. If she's not still cross with you because of this morning." He patted her arm affectionately. Then he seemed to remember something. "I'm sure, she'll forgive you if you apologise."
Haley scoffed. He was so obvious. "I'll apologise if you ask her out."
"W-w-what?" He sputtered, his ears turning fire red. That's for calling me Hails, she thought with a smirk.
"Don't forget the sandwiches!" She called after him, before entering the changing room and closing the door behind her.
…
After her shower, Haley quickly got dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a maroon sweater beneath her thick wine red winter coat. Her hair was piled up into an unruly bun that was still wet from the shower. With her hood in place over her head, her bag across her shoulder and her Firebolt in her hand, Haley finally left the changing rooms. The Slytherins were small green dots in the air. She sighed in relief.
Then she fetched her journal from her bag and started her walk back toward the castle. The cover was sprinkled with all kinds of colours and little drawings that she made whenever she was bored in class. Was there anything else she needed to take care of today? The words on the pages were blurry because she wasn't wearing her glasses. She had taken them off before showering. Where had she put them? She rummaged around in her bag without taking notice of where she was going.
If she had been less lucky, she would have walked right into a giant mud puddle. But as it was, a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her to the side, before she could step into it. Looking up, she only saw the blurred outlines of a face.
"Thank you," she said with a smile. She opened the side pocket of her bag, finally finding her glasses. "There they are." She placed them atop her nose, smiling at the friendly –
Malfoy. Haley almost dropped her broom into the puddle. "You?" She asked incredulously.
"You should watch where you're going," the Slytherin sneered.
"I just – I…" The Gryffindor was at a loss for words. "But you should be at practice! Or well, watching the others practise, I guess." She frowned. Why did he even bother? "And… did you just stop me from walking into a puddle? Why didn't you let me walk into it?"
The boy lifted an eyebrow. "If you must know, I was just on my way to practice. Prefects get certain privileges, but you wouldn't know that." He smirked at her mockingly. "As for the other thing…I'm not a monster. What do you think of me?" He smoothed his hand down his robes and glanced at the puddle. "Besides, if you had fallen into the puddle, you would've splashed mud all over me. I can do without that experience."
Such a smooth bastard. Haley wondered if he had made all of that up or if there was even a grain of truth to it. How was that boy so different from his dream self? In his dreams he was so open and honest with her. And in reality…? She doubted he had ever told her anything that wasn't a taunt or a lie.
What had Hermione said this morning? She should call him out on his behaviour?
"I don't get you, Malfoy," she muttered. "Do you even believe your own lies?"
"What?" The boy's smirk froze at once.
"It's so obvious you're hiding something." She felt strangely courageous all of a sudden.
"Am I now," he snorted derisively. "Everyone has their secrets if you hadn't noticed."
"I did notice actually. I also noticed something else. Usually, people don't seem too fond of the idea of having their secrets exposed. Am I wrong?" The way his expression hardened was incredibly satisfying.
"I don't know what it is you think you know about me, Potter. But let me assure you, you don't want to play this game with me." Something glinted in his eyes dangerously.
"Really? I think you're the one who doesn't want to play. Because you're afraid you'll lose." She couldn't back down now. She was close to breaking through his walls. She felt it.
"Me? Afraid of losing? Against someone who makes up stories about reading minds and knowing about other people's favourite drinks?"
Haley narrowed her eyes. Fine. He wanted her to play with the big guns? She could do that. Where would his clever remarks be, when she told him she knew he had a crush on her? A reckless feeling, she associated with all of the tales her dad always told her about his school adventures, filled her up. Was this what it felt like to be a true Gryffindor? She opened her mouth to speak… and closed it again.
Just when she toyed with the right words inside her head, the image of her brother's sad blue eyes filled her mind. I just wish it could have been my own decision… telling her, you know? Why was she thinking of Simon right now? It felt so awful to have her find out like that. I wanted to tell her myself and… in my own time.
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the memory. This was different. Why should she consider Malfoy's feelings? Did that git ever consider her feelings? But the more she thought about it, she felt her resolve weaken. She was simply too soft!
It's not okay to reveal other people's secrets!, Simon had said in his dream. And she knew he was right. She sighed, focusing on the boy in front of her again. She wouldn't sink to his level. But that didn't mean she couldn't ruffle his feathers a bit.
"Pansy," she stated, startling him. "You went to the Yule Ball with her."
Malfoy lifted a questioning eyebrow.
"But she wasn't your first choice, was she?" Haley bit her lips. Silently waiting for his reaction. Would he admit it himself? It was quiet for a moment.
Then the Slytherin chuckled softly. "Obviously. That girl is almost as annoying as you," he sneered.
"You have a fondness for annoying girls, then?" Her heart was beating madly. Would he admit it now?
The expression on his face turned sour. "You're wasting my time with your nonsense, Potter." He took a step closer to her. She had to fight the urge to step backwards. "You know, I was honestly considering your peace offering but now I've changed my mind. Nobody threatens a Malfoy," he spat, taking another step toward her.
His eyes seemed to bore into her own and underneath the steely grey anger, she thought she spotted something else. Something uncertain. Something like fear.
It was impossible to imagine that this was the same boy that she had encountered in kitten-patterned pyjamas in a dream. The same boy who had serenaded and danced with her. The same boy who had seemed so shy before he had… kissed her. The memory made her blush and without being able to stop it, her eyes fell on his lips. It was only for a short moment but she was sure the boy had seen it. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in surprise. He blinked at her, a soft pinkness colouring his cheeks. Then he seemed to remember where he was. Or who he was, maybe. He hastily stepped back, and looked away from her. Then some of the anger returned to his face.
"Get out of my way," he hissed, marching past her and knocking his shoulder against hers.
Haley spun around. She wasn't going to let him off this easily. She had been so close…
"Wait!" She called, taking a step forward, but getting her feet tangled up in Malfoy's broomstick that he was carrying low in his right hand. (Why had he even brought it when he wasn't going to fly?) She lost her balance, to the right was the puddle and on top of everything her bag was slipping down her shoulder. She would fall, she would fall, she would – She sighed. Having caught her balance in the last second.
Her commotion made Malfoy turn around, his broom hitting the back of her shins and sending her right into the puddle after all. For a moment, it looked like the boy was reaching out his hand, in an attempt to grab her. But either way, he was too late.
Splashes of brown mud exploded around her, as she hit the ground hard. She registered the cold only subconsciously, clenching her eyes shut because of the embarrassment. First, she waited for the laughter. But when there was none, she dared to hope that he had left.
Opening her eyes, she saw he hadn't. Of course he hadn't. Instead he was leafing through a familiar looking journal…
"Haley Longbottom? You're even more pathetic than I thought. Does Longbottom know you're still pining after him? Longbottom. What a name." He sounded more angry than mocking.
Haley sat up, wiped the mud from her face and glared at him. "It's a hundred times better than Malfoy!" She fired back hotly.
She should have known the Slytherin wasn't going to leave it at that. With an ugly scowl he hurled the journal into the puddle next to her, splashing a new wave of mud in her face. The girl screamed in frustration, hitting the puddle to create her own wave. But to her disappointment it never hit the git.
"You did this to yourself," Malfoy spat, glancing back one last time, before making his way down to the quidditch pitch.
"I hate him," Haley said to herself, refusing to watch him go. Why was she always losing to him? Why couldn't she have the upper hand for once? As she picked up her journal that was now wet and muddied and most probably ruined – her journal where she wrote down quotes and song lyrics and sketched ideas for paintings that reflected her innermost thoughts and beliefs – a sudden anger stirred inside her. She had let Malfoy push her around for so long. How much longer was she going to let him get away with it? The page was opened to a selection of song lyrics.
"So dance your final dance
Cause this is your final chance"
She chuckled in disbelief. The Weird Sisters song Malfoy had played for her in his dream. Maybe this was the answer. If she really managed to get to him in his dreams, then… Then what? Then everything would magically work out? She wasn't naive enough to believe that. But she had to try. If this was going to be her final chance, she at least needed to take it. That's what a true Gryffindor would do anyway.
…ooo…
Mum's dream door looks the same it looked the first time I stood in front of it. Painted green wood. A round window with white lilies surrounding it. And to the left, a bronze cauldron. How does her door open again? Right. I need to get the key from inside of the cauldron. As soon as my hand nears the cauldron, bright flames shoot up from it. I pull my hand back reflexively.
What did mum say? If my intentions aren't bad, the fire won't hurt me? I take a deep breath and close my eyes, reaching into the cauldron again until… I feel a cool liquid on my skin. At the bottom of the cauldron I feel dozens of keys. Which one is the right one? Should I just pick one and try it out? There is a magnetic pull that leads my fingers to a key somewhere on the left. It's warm to the touch so I close my fingers around it and pull it out of the cauldron.
I open my eyes once more. The fire is gone. And I hold the key to mum's dream door in my hands. That was easy. Hopefully it fits. I push the key into the lock and with a soft click the door opens. Phew. Cautiously, I touch the handle – no electric shocks! – and enter into my mum's dream.
The first thing I notice is steam. Clouds of steam that seem to be everywhere. I can't see anything through it.
"Mum?" I ask, using my hand like a fan to make the steam disappear. Slowly, two figures become visible. Two figures, standing in front of a huge cauldron. One with red and the other with black hair. Through the fog, I can hear soft chuckles.
"Mum?" I call again, wondering what kind of dream I have walked into.
"Haley, is that you?" My mum's voice asks, while the steam clouds are starting to drift away. I can see her now. And the figure beside her is… Professor Snape?
"Sev, would you look after the Resurgence Draught for a moment? And don't forget to add the gargoyle powder after ten stirrings." She instructs my potion professor like she is the potion master.
"I know Lily, we talked about this," the professor grumbles but it doesn't sound like he's too bothered by her tone. How curious.
Mum comes into view a second later. Her hair is up in a bun and there are strands of hair hanging around her face messily. For a second I'm baffled. I know that I'm looking at my mum but she looks so… young. It's almost like looking into a mirror if it weren't for the lack of glasses on her face. And the colour of her eyes. Like hers my eyes are green but where hers seem like light grass in spring, mine are slightly darker, like moss with hints of the brown earth. They are like a combination of dad's and mum's eyes, really. And while my mum is always surrounded by an air of kindness and warmth, people always tell me, I have the same arrogant look about me as my dad.
"What brings you here, little duckling?" Mum asks with a smile. "Is everything okay?"
It's so weird seeing her like this. She looks no older than me.
"Mum, why…? Is that Professor Snape?" I ask, nodding toward the man in the back, who I now notice looks as young as mum. "And did you just call him Sev?"
"Oh." Mum blinks at me as if she only now realises that this might look strange to me. "We're old friends. He's working on a potion and asked me for advice." She replies. "Did you need my help with something?"
What? Old friends? My mum and my potion professor? Why do I only hear about this now? And what kind of potion are they working on? But I can't dwell on this now. There's a reason I sought my mother out.
"Mum, I… I… Can you help me look fierce and intimidating?"
"What?"
"I said, can you help me look fierce and-"
"I heard you the first time, poppet."
"Then why…?"
Mum furrows her eyebrows like she's in deep thought. "Come with me. I think I have an idea." She grabs my hand and pulls me up a staircase that I don't remember being there before. We stop in front of a door that has the name Lily painted across it in vibrant colours. It looks like a bedroom door. Mum pulls me into the room behind it, which has painted walls, a small bed, a desk and a huge wardrobe on the wall to the right.
She almost bounces over to the wardrobe, pulls something from it and walks back to me.
"Try this on," Mum tells me, holding something black out to me. I'm a bit disappointed.
"I have to actually put this on?" I complain. "This is a dream. Can't you just… transform me or something?"
Mum chuckles. "You may look like me but that attitude…" She tsks. "I have nothing to do with that."
I clear my throat sheepishly and try to look apologetic.
"Fine. Close your eyes," she orders. I eagerly close my eyes. After a moment, I feel something funny on my head. It's like my hair is fuller and something tickles around my nose.
"Open your eyes."
I obediently open them, anxious for my new look.
"Ahh!" I yell at my reflection in front of me. There are whiskers on my face. Whiskers. And is that a mane? My head looks like a lion's head.
"Mum!" I whine, tearing at my new hair. "I look like a lion!"
Mum openly laughs at me. "You wanted to look intimidating and fierce," she replies with an amused grin.
I don't laugh. She seems to notice that I'm not in the mood for joking.
"Fine." She says and with a wave of her hand I'm left with my human face again. Thank Merlin.
"So," mum takes a step toward me and touches the patch of skin between my furrowed brows. My face relaxes almost instinctively. She smiles. "Why do you want to look intimidating?"
"I'm…" I sigh. I knew she would ask. "That boy I told you about. I want to… I want to confront him and… ideally I want him to feel intimidated so… so maybe he'll finally leave me alone."
Mum lifts an eyebrow, glancing into my eyes searchingly. "All right." She steps back again. "Eyes closed."
"No tricks this time," I mutter as I close my eyes once more. It takes a bit longer before she tells me to open my eyes again. When she finally does I'm in for a surprise.
The girl in the mirror is dressed in a pair of tight black pants and a blood red blouse that compliments the colour of my hair. Usually I wear my long hair in a ponytail or a braid but now it's down and framing my face in a way that is slightly wavy as it falls across my shoulders. I look confident. And fierce. Soft brown eye shadow makes my eyes look like they are on fire. And my glasses… They're gone but I can still see… Must be because I'm dreaming.
"Mum it's…" I don't find the words to express how much I like it.
"Intimidating enough? I think something's missing." Mum steps behind me and a blink later, a wide cape flows down my back. The fabric on the inside is the same shade of red as my blouse, while the outside is pitch black. I look like some kind of warrior queen. This is perfect.
"Amazing," I breathe, looking at my reflection from all sides. If this isn't going to intimidate Malfoy, I don't know what else will.
"I'm assuming that boy will either want to kiss you or–"
"Mum!" I interrupt her with a glare. "I don't want him to kiss me." Not again. The first time was more than enough.
She sends me a smug grin. "Or he'll cower in fear. Either way, be sure to tell me whether it worked."
I clench my teeth, suppressing the urge to lash out at her. Even if her comments are annoying she is not the person I'm really angry at.
"I gotta go," I tell her, glancing at my reflection one last time. Then I exit the room and jump down the stairs, my cape flowing behind me giving me the boost of confidence I needed. Hidden behind a steam cloud I can still make out Professor Snape's figure. What is it they are working on? Should I try to get another glance? Maybe another time. I've got more important things to do now. So I continue walking toward the door that leads me to the dream corridor.
It doesn't take long to get to Malfoy's dream door. I play the guitar solo with a fierce edge that fits my new look but for some reason, I hesitate to actually enter. Why? Because this feels important. I don't know whether I'll have the strength to keep doing this if I don't get somewhere tonight.
"What you waiting for, Rock'n Roll Queen?" Myron Wagtail asks me. It must be my outfit. But I do prefer the title Warrior Queen. "I like you, you know. There's something about you that just…" The singer watches me contemplatively, waving his hands wildly like he's looking for the right words. "you know, something that…pulls the right strings. Know what I mean?" He seems content with his choice of words. I, on the other hand, have no idea what he's talking about. I want to ask but he's pulling up his own guitar, playing the intro to 'Magic Works' and ignores me. After a while of me silently watching him, he looks up in confusion.
"In or out?" He asks impatiently. "I wanted to visit the poster of Gwenog Jones, you know?"
Oh. Does that mean I can't enter if he leaves? Can he even leave, when he's meant to guard the door?
"I'll go in," I decide quickly, reaching for the handle.
Myron blinks at me. I feel like there should be…something. A sign. Or dramatic music. But there's nothing.
"So?" The singer asks moodily.
I sigh, pulling the door open. "Wish me luck," I whisper before slipping through the door. I'm not sure he even heard me.
It takes a moment for me to recognise my surroundings. The houses that seemed so random at first, slowly become the familiar silhouettes of Hogsmeade. A giggling girl runs past me down the street. Her auburn hair is up in a ponytail and she is dressed in quidditch robes. When she looks back for a moment with a smile, I get a glimpse of her face. It's my face.
"Wait for me," calls the boy, who is chasing the girl. He walks past me, without noticing me. But I recognise him. Malfoy. For some reason, he's also wearing his quidditch robes.
They're running down the street that leads out of town and into the woods. If I don't follow them, I'll lose them. The air is comfortably warm and the afternoon sun, leaves me feeling strangely detached from the scenery.
I close my eyes, imagining my broomstick in my hand and open them again. The merits of dreaming. On my broom, I follow the two figures and watch them from above. The girl has reached the beginning of the woods now.
"Don't be mad," Malfoy calls after the girl, wearing my face. "Maybe you'll win next time." Is he talking about quidditch?
The girl looks back with a grin, sticking out her tongue childishly. She doesn't see the tree root, sticking out of the ground. I'm not sure it's appropriate to laugh at her when she stumbles over it. Malfoy catches up with her and kneels down next to her sprawled out form.
"Are you hurt?" He asks, as he helps her up, sounding terribly worried. I clench my teeth. What a hypocrite.
My doppelgänger grimaces. "My leg. I think it's sprained."
"It'll be fine." He says and pulls the face-thief into his arms. "I'm here," he soothes, rubbing her back gently. Does he believe he can heal her with his mere presence? How can he be so gentle with her? How can he be so caring when he dreams and be a nightmare in real life?
I feel the anger stirring inside me again. It feels red and hot, like a maize kernel ready to explode. If I watch this any longer I'm afraid I'll either throw a curse at them or vomit all over my broom. It's time to make my move.
I jump down from my broomstick. My feet make the slightest of sounds when they hit the earth. Standing right behind Malfoy, I feel like some kind of super hero or villain with my cape floating dramatically behind me. It really does add a nice touch.
"How dare you!" I growl, summoning all the anger and frustration I've felt for the last months.
The boy turns around and blinks at me in surprise. "Haley?"
I take another step toward him, fixing him with a fiery glare. "How dare you stand here and comfort her when it's your fault that she's hurt in the first place?"
"Bu-but you tripped…" The boy stammers.
"Are you an idiot? I didn't trip!" I yell at him, shoving him, so he stumbles backwards. "You're the worst! You pick on me, taunt me, humiliate me! You even ruined my potion! But that's not even the worst!" I shove him again. He steps back like a puppet that doesn't have a will of its own. "The worst is that you're doing all this while at the same time you treat me like a sodding princess in your dreams. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Malfoy just gapes at me. Like he's trying to figure out what happened to the nice and giggly girl from before. Or maybe he's trying to figure out whether he is supposed to answer.
"I just don't understand how you can be this caring and nice to me and at the same time you don't give a shit about what I feel! You keep humiliating and hurting me like it's nothing to you! Like I'm some stupid little doll you can treat however you like! You're the worst!" I spit, breathing heavily. The fury just gets more intense the more I say. But it feels good. It feels so good to finally be able to tell him what I think of him. To tell him how much of a prat he is. And how it makes me feel.
He looks like he wants to protest. To explain perhaps. But I'm not done with him yet.
"If you ever dare dream of me again, I'll make sure you regret it." I growl, narrowing my eyes at him. "That's a promise."
I still feel like I'm going to explode any second. One of the trees behind Malfoy is starting to glow. Perhaps, it's better I go now or else I might set the whole woods on fire.
I spin around abruptly and march back in the direction of the houses. One of the doors looks like the dream door. Looks like it travelled along with us.
"Haley, wait!" Calls Malfoy, just when I'm about to touch the door handle.
I turn around, seeing the Slytherin jog toward me. I hold up my arms in front of me like a shield. Malfoy doesn't stop. A second later, red flames burst from my fingers and create a hot wall of fire between me and the boy. That makes him stop at last.
I can see the fire reflected in his eyes filled with disbelief and fear.
"Don't. Follow. Me!" I warn him, before turning away. I tear open the door and slam it behind me.
"Haley? Haley?" Someone calls. For a moment I'm afraid, Malfoy has followed me after all.
I look around the corridor. But nobody's there beside me.
"Haley!"
…ooo…
Haley woke up with a start. The darkness around her left her disoriented and confused.
"Where am I? Where–?" She asked, fumbling for her glasses on the bedside table. They weren't there.
"Here," Hermione's voice said, and then there was something shiny in front of her. Her glasses. She took them from her friend's hands and put them on.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. She was sitting on the bed beside her. "You were talking in your sleep. You even screamed. So I came to check on you."
Haley rubbed her hand across her face. "I'm fine. I… it was just a dream," she whispered, still feeling the heat of the flames all around her.
Hermione bit her lips. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Haley shook her head but reached over to squeeze her friend's arm gratefully. "It wasn't too serious. Just a silly dream." She tried to smile.
But Hermione wasn't even looking at her. Her eyes were resting on Haley's hand. Or more specifically, on the leather band that was wrapped around her wrist.
"What's that?" She asked, frowning. "Isn't that-?"
"Hm?" Haley pulled her hand away so fast, one would think she had been bitten by a snake.
"That leather band on your wrist. With the gobstone. That's Malfoy's, isn't it?"
Haley closed her eyes. She had already seen it. There was no use in denying it now. She needed a good excuse. And fast.
"Why are you wearing that?" She asked suspiciously. "No, why are you sleeping with that?"
Haley bit her lips nervously. "I…" She started to say. "It's not what it looks like?" Her statement came out like a question. Which was fitting, seeing as she didn't even know what it might look like.
"What is it like, then?" Hermione waited, narrowing her brown eyes at her.
She was done for. What in Merlin's name was she supposed to say to get her friend off her back? She didn't feel like much of a warrior queen now.
…
A/N: I'm sorry for the cliffhanger... kind of. Anyway, this chapter was intense, there was a confrontation finally. Actually there were several confrontations. So, what do you think? Are you still guessing about Malfoy's secret? And how will that talk with Hermione go? And why does the chapter title sound so familiar? It's from the Hunger Games but I'm sure you picked up on that ;) I wanted to call the chapter I see Fire first (in reference to the song) but then I thought this one fits better :)
So, as always thank you for reading and let me know what you think :)
(In case anyone's curious being on fire is 'standing in flames' (orig. 'in Flammen stehen') in German. So the HG quote would be translated to something like 'The girl who was standing among the flames'. I think it sounds really poetic xD)