18 – The Calm After the Fire Storm

"Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those."
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

...

"It's strange how dreams get under your skin and give your heart a test for what's real and what's imaginary."
― Jason Mraz

...

Finally, everything was back to normal. Haley was having breakfast with her best friends. At her own table. Everything was like it should be. She didn't have to look in the direction where Neville was sitting. She didn't have to bear the endless questions of the Creevey siblings. She could simply enjoy her breakfast in peace. All was well. Peachy even.

She should have known it wouldn't last. It started when her, Ron and Hermione made their way down the hall toward the Charms class room.

"Would you give me a second?" No. Not that voice.

Haley didn't turn around. Which didn't save her because the boy whose voice she'd heard had already caught up with her.

She stopped in her tracks, her heart suddenly beating fast. It was less complicated before you started to like him, wasn't it? Damn Hermione. What did she know about her feelings?

"About yesterday, I–" Malfoy started to say but Haley didn't let him finish.

"Let's go," she said, her voice sounding too high, too breathy, too nervous. Holding onto her friends left and right, she quickly stepped around the boy, without meeting his eyes.

"Wait, I was – I just–"

She walked even faster now, dragging Hermione and Ron behind her. She didn't want to hear his excuses! Luckily he didn't follow her into the class room. Maybe he'd given up? But for some reason that would be even worse. Was she that easy to get over?

They took their seats in the back as usual where Haley dejectedly let her head sink onto the table and kicked her feet like a three-year-old.

Hermione was watching her. She could feel her disapproving gaze. Or smug possibly. It was less complicated before you started to like him, wasn't it?

But I don't like him!, she wanted to shout. I despise that git! But that wasn't true either. She didn't know. All she knew was that what he'd said yesterday had stung. She'd been right not to let him close to her.

"So… er… d'you dump him or…?" Ron asked, coughing awkwardly. Hermione cleared her throat. How could clearing one's throat sound amused?

Had she dumped him? Maybe.

She groaned in answer. Lifting her head would have been too much of a bother.

…

In Potions Haley concentrated hard not to look toward the table in the front where she knew Malfoy was sitting. The effort almost made her mess up her Draught of Peace. Shit. Even when that boy was not trying to sabotage her potions, he succeeded in it!

"Er Haley, you're not supposed to add the whole glass of glum grass." Hermione kindly told her.

"I know," she hissed back. "Trying to counter the effects of the jingle berries. I added too many earlier."

At least she knew what she was doing where potions were concerned. One more pinch of glum grass and – the potion turned a warm purple. Just like it should. She sighed in relief.

"That was brilliant! You really are a potions genius," Hermione complimented her.

Haley shrugged. It came naturally to her. But she did like being complimented.

"What's that?" She wanted to know, noticing the little folded note on their table only now.

"You didn't notice?"

Haley shook her head, unfolding the note.

Don't be mad. At this rate you'll blow up the whole dungeons.

Next to it someone had drawn a small kitten. She felt the light tug of a smile on her lips. She turned around. No way, was she going to let him see her smile because of such a pathetic drawing. Her fingers were itching to stroke across the paper as if they could actually feel the fur of the inky animal. It was adorable.

"Malfoy left it next to your cauldron a moment ago."

"You don't say." Of course he had. It looked so similar to the kitten she'd drawn onto his arm in that dream. Did he remember that?

Carefully, she peeked over her left shoulder toward the table in the front. He wasn't even looking in her direction! She spun around fully, almost toppling into her Draught of Peace.

"Haley!" Hermione reached for her arm, steadying her. She didn't fall. But the note sailed right toward the flames below her cauldron. Reflexively, she lunged for it, catching the note before the fire could.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, when she'd found her balance again.

"Seeker reflex," Haley mumbled, tucking the note between the pages of Advanced Potion Brewing and turning back to her cauldron. Surely, everyone was watching her now. Or was there perhaps a chance that one person in particular hadn't seen her embarrass herself? She didn't check. She was much more occupied with the task of fixing her potion. Again.

Why hadn't she just let that stupid paper burn? It had only been a cartoon kitten. What if Malfoy took that as some sort of sign? What if he kept pestering her? What if he stopped?

That would be a good thing. Right? Right?

…

He didn't stop. Supper rolled around and Haley was just about to tuck into her lasagna – which she could finally enjoy in the Great Hall again – when suddenly it was replaced by a massive bowl of steaming noodle soup. Just the way she liked it. With carrots, sprouts, bok choy and eggs. It smelled heavenly. There was a line of sesame spread on top of it, spelling a single word.

Sorry.

Bandy. Bandy had cooked this. For her? She hadn't even asked him to. And why would he send it up to her table in the Great Hall? Malfoy was behind this. He was the only one who knew – but he wasn't even in the hall! Which made sense. If he was involved in this, he was probably down in the kitchens.

Haley stared down at her soup, conflicted. It smelled so good. But what if someone (read: Malfoy) had tampered with it? But he wouldn't do that. They were past this, right?

And even if he tried, Bandy would never let him. Not if he could help it.

And what about all the previous times, when he'd offered her food or something to drink. (The recent times.) It had been completely fine. But he'd been with her then. He wasn't about to poison himself just to get her.

She took another look around the hall as if any moment someone was going to show up next to her and tell her what to do. But no one did. Everyone was too busy with their own food. Well, except a scrawny cat, slipping into the hall and slinking her way past thousands of student feet. Mrs Norris.

A kitten. He'd drawn her a kitten. Like she had in his dream. And she hadn't been able to bear letting the stupid drawing sail into the flames. Almost burning her fingers in her effort to save it.

Why?

Her body had moved on its own accord then. Just like it was now. When had she decided to pick up the chopsticks lying next to the bowl? When had she instructed her hand to dip them into the soup, snatch up a bite of noodles and vegetables, sprinkled with sesame and navigate everything toward her mouth? (When had she even opened her mouth?)

The rich taste of the soy sauce accented with countless spices left an explosion of flavours and pure delight on her tongue. She closed her eyes, seeing herself in London with Simon. The both of them trying noodle soup for the first time. Her trying to forget her broken heart. She was in the kitchens with the house elves, abandoned by her closest friends. She was in the kitchens with Malfoy, slurping her noodles while he pestered her about one thing or another. Or maybe just… keeping her company. When no one else would.

Sorry.

She should at least let him explain. After that, she could still decide whether to dump him or not.

…

Storming out of the Great Hall was both stupid and overly dramatic. Dramatic because everyone was eating and she was running toward the doors like a lunatic. And stupid because she had no idea where she was going or where to begin looking for the boy she was in search of.

In the kitchens. But would he still be there? If not, maybe she could ask Bandy about him.

Malfoy wasn't in the kitchens. Bandy handed her a roll of parchment, though. With directions. And something that looked like a self-drawn map. He also gave her a treacle muffin. He said it was a mix between a treacle tart and a muffin. To go. How did he know she had a weakness for treacle tarts?

…

The map lead her out of the castle, across the grounds until she found herself close to the Great Lake beneath a huge willow. (Not the whomping one.) The long branches reaching softly into the water against the slowly darkening sky painted a dreamy scene that she couldn't even appreciate the beauty of. Where was that dunderhead? She couldn't spot him anywhere. Was this a trick?

Then the branches started trembling and something dropped out of it. Was that Malfoy? The boy landed on his feet in front of her almost gracefully. It was slightly disconcerting.

"Were you sitting in that tree?" Haley asked with a deep frown.

"I…" He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I do that sometimes, when I…" He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Never mind."

What the hell? Was he trying to throw her off the track on purpose? She had to focus. Why had she run here like some mad woman? Right. An explanation. He owed her that at least.

"So?" She started, crossing her arms and turning sideways, so she could look at the lake instead of him. "I'm assuming you've got something to say?"

"Yes. I – I wanted to – I –" He stammered like a little boy. She heard him take a deep breath. "So… I've been… really mean to you." He said hesitantly. That tone. Those words. It all sounded strangely familiar. "I mean… what I said… I shouldn't have yelled at you… It's just… I got mad and… what I said… I didn't mean it like that."

He sounded almost like…

"And everything I've done before… the pranks, the names I called you… the way I treated you..." His voice was drenched in regret. "I've never properly – until now… I…"

He sounded just like…

"I want to… I want to apologize." His voice was quiet, unsure. Almost a whisper. She'd heard those words before… Or was she just imagining things?

"I'm s– I'm s-so- I'm sorry for doing all these things to you!" He yelled that last sentence, as if the intensity somehow made the words come easier.

Those were the exact same words he'd told her before. In a dream.

He'd actually apologized to her. For real. Malfoy. No, Draco. No, not Draco. But then who?

Hearing only his voice made it much more difficult to discern who she was dealing with.

Haley spun around. Who are you? She wanted to ask him. Who? Why do I feel like this? Why are you making me feel like this?

The words got stuck in her throat. He looked so sincere. His eyes alight with sparks of emotion. She'd never seen him like this. He never showed his feelings so openly.

"Why are you doing this?" She didn't understand. Why was this affecting him so much?

"Why am I doing what?" His eyes were glinting wildly.

"This! All of it!" She gestured toward the tree and the lake. "Luring me to this 'romantic' place, acting like you're sorry-"

"I'm not acting – I am sorry!"

"But why? Why does it matter so much to you, when you so obviously prefer a dream girl over me?"

"I don't-" He sighed. "I told you, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how'd you mean it?"

"I… I mean – I-"

"See! It was never about me. You only liked the idea of me! You wanted me because you couldn't have me." She should have seen it sooner.

"That's not true!" He actually stomped his foot on the ground. "What do you even mean by that?"

"I mean." She sighed. "You don't know me. Not really. How could you feel anything for me?"

"I've known you for five years." He dead-panned.

"Being in the same school doesn't count."

He rolled his eyes. "Besides, you don't have to know everything about someone to be able to feel something."

Why was he this stubborn? "Fine. Tell me then. What is it you like about me so much?" She raised her chin. A silent challenge.

She expected him to stare at her perplexedly. To start stammering and frantically looking for excuses. She didn't expect him to smile and take her hand. It was cold. A shiver ran up her arm, making her realize that she hadn't even thought to bring a jacket. How stupid of her.

"Are you cold?" The boy asked, of course he'd noticed right away.

She shook her head stubbornly. He was already unbuttoning his coat. "No, you don't have to – I don't want your stupid coat!"

"I wasn't going to offer it to you." He rolled his eyes and proceeded to free his scarf from around his neck.

I don't want that either, she wanted to protest but he was already wrapping her up in that Slytherin green scarf that was so much softer than it looked. And comfortably warm. And the way it smelled.

He smirked at her in a way that looked much too smug.

"That's completely unnecessary," Haley hissed, although she felt already much warmer. "Besides, stop trying to distract me. You still owe me an answer."

"Didn't know I was that distracting."

There he went again, that smug idiot. She was wasting her time. "Well, it's not like your answer is going to be a big surprise. You're a guy after all."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Haley raised her eyebrows. "I'm not stupid. And I do own a mirror."

He scoffed. "You think I like you because of your looks?"

"Don't you?" Just admit, she thought. So, we can finally get this over with.

"You know when you're the most beautiful?" He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "When you're angry. Your nose scrunches up and you turn red like a tomato. And the wrinkle," He chuckled and lifted his hand to her face, tapping his finger against her forehead gently. "Right here, your skin wrinkles up and I always want to reach out and make it smooth again."

The words he said… the soft look in his eyes… the gentleness of his touch… Haley wanted to believe it all so bad.

"And then your eyes light up like they're made of fire," he continued. "It's as if they're ready to scorch anyone who dares to look at them the wrong way. Even the air around you gets electrified and your hair seems like its aflame. Actually, it's like you turn into your own personal fire storm. It's beautiful. More than that. Breathtaking."

Was that really how he saw her? Fierce? Breathtaking? More than… just beautiful?

"You looked exactly like that, when we met for the first time."

"At Hogwarts?"

He shook his head, grinning softly.

"On the train? No, Diagon Alley?"

Again he shook his head. "It was in Godric's Hollow. Don't you remember?"

What? Godric's Hollow? Where she lived? "When?"

"I was ten. My parents went to visit some important ministry official and took me along." He explained. "It was horribly boring. So, I sneaked out when no one noticed and explored the town."

Haley snorted. Godric's Hollow was so small, there wasn't a lot to explore.

"I know." He rolled his eyes. "It took me no more than half an hour to see everything."

"And, did you find anything interesting?" She asked sweetly.

"Actually, I did. I… saw you scaring a group of boys almost to death because they'd been mean to your little brother. It involved gobstones as well, I think." He added that last bit almost casually.

"Right." Haley snorted. "Simon's always been rubbish at gobstones." She chuckled. There had been countless of occurrences like these. But none of that had involved Malfoy. Not that she could remember.

"It was obvious that you cared a lot about your brother." He bit his lips. "I never had any siblings. I don't understand what it's like… to have this kind of bond. Nevertheless… I wanted it. I wanted someone to look at me with as much warmth as you looked at your brother. I wanted… someone to care about me in the same way." He wasn't looking at her now. His gaze was stuck in the past, it seemed.

Haley didn't know what to say. Was that true? What would it mean if it was true? She nestled further into the warmth of the scarf. "You've been having these feelings for me… since you were ten?"

He looked startled, like she'd caught him off guard somehow. "Not… quite." He looked around as if it surprised him to be suddenly at Hogwarts and not in Godric's Hollow. "You fascinated me. But I didn't see you again for almost a year. I stopped thinking about you. And when we finally met again," His face scrunched up in a way that seemed almost pained. He looked away. "You had all these shiny new friends and… you didn't remember me." The whispered admission sounded sad, lonely and cold like a winter breeze.

Something suddenly clicked. "Is that… why you were always being so mean to me?"

"Partly. But at some point I realized… that it didn't matter that you didn't remember. We could always make new memories." He smiled. But there was a sad tinge to it. "But again… I was too late." He chuckled darkly. "You were already with… with… with… him."

Neville. She'd been with Neville. But she wasn't now.

Haley felt the sudden urge to touch him, to somehow check that this was really happening. She reached for his hand and carefully ran the fingers of her other hand across each of his own. His skin was really soft. She'd never really noticed that before. She hadn't taken the time to.

"So, you… find it attractive when I'm angry?" She mumbled, trying to make sense of the things he'd told her.

He chuckled. "It's like watching a hurricane. It's incredible. Intimidating." He slowly interlaced his fingers with hers. She liked the way it felt. Like he didn't want to let go.

"A hurricane?" She frowned. "That's not exactly romantic. I thought you liked me." She wanted to hear him say it. Spell it out for me. "Why?" She squeezed his hand, not quite ready to meet his gaze yet.

"Why?"

"Aside from that… why do you like me?" Who cared if she sounded needy. Not her.

"The way you care about people." She could feel his fingers in her hair, running them through the strands slowly. "Your childishness… your stupid arrogance… the stupid face you make whenever I prank you."

She slapped his hand away, looking up into his face at last. There was no malice there. Not the usual cruelty that greeted her whenever he played a trick on her. There was just warmth and… playfulness and… something sweet, affectionate even. He was just making fun.

"You're you," he whispered, a twinkle in his grey eyes. "That's all. That's why I like you. I can't explain it."

It started in her fingertips and spread over her fingers, her hands, her arms into her chest and filled her whole body from there. A tingling feeling as if her body had fallen asleep. As if a hundred million stars were exploding inside her. She was a galaxy. A galaxy of joy.

"You should have said that right away," she breathed, feeling her throat tighten up. "Instead of telling me I didn't live up to your dreams."

"I never said – are you still going on about that?" He ran a hand through his hair, so he looked like a hedgehog. "I was upset. Because you kept keeping me at arms length."

"I didn't-"

"Don't deny it. I'm not stupid."

"Fine," she admitted. "Maybe I pushed you away a bit."

"A bit? You basically jumped me every time, I was trying to have a proper conversation with you."

"I hardly jumped you!" She protested, then she added, "You noticed that?"

"Of course, I noticed. Do I look like a complete oaf?"

Haley cleared her throat pointedly.

"Very funny," he muttered, before suddenly snaking an arm around her and pulling her close against his chest. "Don't do that any more," he whispered close to her ear. "Don't shut me out."

The girl felt herself nod against his chest, where the alluring scent of him was even more intense. "I'll try." She said quietly, wondering if that was something she could actually do. She could try either way.

They'd never hugged before. Not like this. Not when it didn't involve kissing. Somehow it seemed more intimate. Meaningful. Like something that belonged into a dream…

The way his arms were wrapped around her made it seem as if he was telling her that it was okay. That she could trust him. That he was going to take care of her. Or maybe… he was asking her to take care of him? Maybe… he was just as scared of letting someone in and getting hurt as she was… He was only better at hiding it.

The boy pulled back after another moment, before ducking down to steal a kiss, as if he had been dying to for at least a week.

"What, so now kissing is okay again?" Haley asked against his lips.

"It was never not okay," he replied with a cheeky grin.

She snorted, slapping his shoulder lightly. "Git." She hissed. But then she looped her arms around his neck, got up on her tip-toes and kissed him in a way she'd never had before. There was passion, yes. But it was less prominent than usual. Less destructive. Instead of smouldering hot and threatening to incinerate everything that stood in its way, it was simmering quietly under the surface now. With each kiss, she was pressing against the boy's lips, she could feel him smile. Instead of gripping her too tightly, his fingers were now stroking across her back softly. Caressing instead of clawing at her. She felt giddy and light. So light. As if she was about to fly away any moment. She was a galaxy. A galaxy of joy.

It was different than dreaming. Vastly different. (He wasn't Draco.) And also different from the way it was before. (He wasn't Malfoy either.) This was something else. (Someone else then? Or both of them?)

Something new.

And just maybe... she could give this a chance. Maybe she could try at least. What would her mum do? Suddenly, Haley was filled with a terrible longing for her. It was time she went to see her. She'd avoided it long enough.

…

A/N: Hey there! This is terribly late. I apologize. I was kinda in a slump lately. You know, it's really hard to get motivated during this quarantine... Anyhow. Hope you enjoy this fluffiness :) Stay safe and positive and leave me your thoughts!