Chapter 7 – The Ice Cream
Time off was not my friend. It was only a few hours since breakfast and I already couldn't stand my apartment. It didn't feel like a home. It was the penthouse of a building near the hospital. I'd wanted something smaller but Mother wouldn't hear of it, Malfoy's only had the best. She'd decorated it as well. It was very minimalistic, and plain. The walls were all whites and greys, the shelving and furniture all black. I suddenly wanted color, and clutter. My mind went back to Potter's house. There had been toys and pictures all over their living room. I suddenly wanted that. Not just pictures and personal objects, I wanted someone to care if I came home instead of volunteering at the hospital every weekend. I wanted a son to love me like I had loved my Father before, despite all I'd done. I heard a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I didn't deserve it.
Distraught, I apparated outside Flourish and Blotts. I wanted a distraction and I refused to be at Potter's mercy again. I looked desperately at the shelves, not knowing what I was looking for but needing something to take the pain away.
"Draco?" A soft voice called. I froze, stood up straight and turned.
"Hello Miss Granger."
She looked wary, "Hello Draco. You're looking better."
I nodded once, "Time has a way of curing drunkenness."
She looked uncomfortable, "Could we talk? We could get ice cream, my treat."
I frowned and glanced idly at the shelves, "I don't need your pity ice cream Granger."
She sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, "For Merlin's sakes Malfoy, it isn't a pity ice cream. You can buy your own ice cream if that'll make you feel better. I just wanted to talk to you."
My stomach twisted at her words. Why would she want to talk to me? I immediately wondered if her nightmares were returning, or if she'd been reacting to any of the potions. I looked her over but saw no indication she wasn't feeling well.
Still feeling concerned for her I nodded, "But I buy the desserts." She led the way down the street. I chose not to comment that her mint chocolate ice cream was green, clearly a non-Gryffindor sanctioned color. We didn't talk until we were sitting in a secluded corner of the shop.
"So is vanilla your favorite?" Hermione asked.
I looked up at her and raised my eyebrows, "You dragged me all the way down here and made me buy you ice cream so you could ask what my favorite flavor is?"
She looked offended, "I offered to buy you ice cream and you insisted that you pay!"
I smirked, she was still so easy to rile up. Such a Gryffindor.
She huffed, realizing what I'd done. "No," She said, "I wanted to ask you if you're okay."
I froze, "Excuse me?" I asked quietly.
She plowed on, unaware of my mood, "Well you got smashed the other night. Then you freaked out at me and tried to sleep in the park? You were nice to Harry and Ginny and helped with James. And Harry said you looked like you wanted to hit him when he said mudblood-" I flinched, "See!" She exclaimed, "Malfoy, every time I'm at St. Mungo's you're there. You can't burry yourself in your work and expect everything to be fine. You told me that I wouldn't get better unless I faced what happened to me. Well neither will you."
I was furious, I wanted to tell her to mind her own business and that she had no right to speak to me. But with her last words she placed her hand over mine. And it felt so good to have someone comfort me. I closed my eyes. This was so close to what I had been wanting this morning. To have someone care about me. But then I realized she was only helping me because I'd helped her. She felt indebted to me, she didn't care about me.
I snatched my hand back and placed my ice cream on the table, "Like I said earlier, I don't need your pity."
I went back to Flourish and Blott's and bought the first book I saw.
