NOTE: This chapter has been partially re-written. I really, REALLY hated the first draft, but I think this one is much better. Anyway, on with the story…
Chapter Seventeen
A New Day
Reign awoke in the most unflattering position—and the most uncomfortable one. Somehow—throughout her endless tossing and turning through the night—her head had rolled off of her pillow and hung limp over the side of the bed. Her right arm graced the carpeted floor while her left lay where her head should have rested. The sheets were wrapped numerous times around her clothed body. Her hair was, to say the least, a mess. She only awoke because she felt something wet drip onto her right hand—her own saliva.
Reign sprang up in bed and shook the disgusting liquid from her hand. Then that hand went to her neck; the pain that shot through it could only be described as the painful shock from a bolt of lightning. The muscles in her neck and shoulders were so sore it was impossible to stretch them. She tried rubbing her neck as she slowly turned to the right. Her glazed eyes caught sight of herself in the mirror from her wardrobe and they immediately came into focus. Her hand went from her neck to her hair and she whimpered at the sight of her electrified mess of string attached to her head.
Reign groaned melodramatically as she pulled herself out of bed. Every muscle throbbed in protest. She cursed Severus for plaguing her dreams and causing her so much restlessness. But she couldn't really blame him. She sighed as she took a step forward toward the bathroom; but she didn't make it very far. Her sheets had tangled themselves around her legs and she fell straight to the floor. She gasped and threw her arms out to prevent her face from hitting the ground, but her plan was only half successful. Her forehead still hit, and when she lifted her head she noticed fresh blood sitting on the carpet. Her fingers went to her scar; it had been split open again. Reign dropped her head against the floor and flopped her arms to the side. She never wanted to leave that spot. It was one of those moments where she just wanted to give up on everything. She just wanted to sit and reflect. Her body eased its way up and down as she breathed into the floor. She turned over on her back and stared up at the ceiling, bringing the vengeful sheets up to cover her wound. It felt good to stretch her back out flat, and even better to not have a care in the world at that moment.
The sunlight streamed in the window, bombarding her eyes with its harsh weapons of annoyance. She spread the sheets over her eyes and moaned. She knew the sun was telling her to get up and move on. It was telling her to live her life.
She threw the bloody covers off and rolled backwards onto her knees. It was a very lethargic, slightly ridiculous process, but she made it out in the end. As she sat on her knees, staring over the bed into her mirror, she smoothed back her mangled hair and yawned. It was then that she noticed she was wearing the same clothes from the day before. It was then that she remembered Lucius.
She placed her fingers on the Black Diamond that he had given her, and the coldness from the jewel spread through her body like the plague. She knew she should take it off, but her body did not listen to her brain. It was the first time in her life that she didn't know what to think of a person. She still couldn't tell whether Lucius Malfoy was a "good guy" or a "bad guy".
He had really seemed sincere the previous night, but there was something about him—some feeling that she got whenever she was around him—that told her to stay away from him. And really she had; he was the one who kept finding her. He must have carried her back to her rooms after their encounter in the hall. She vaguely remembered the journey. She had floated in his arms as he carried her down the dark corridor. A tingling sensation spread through her knees and back where he had held her. And in her hand, also, where he held it right before he left. She remembered that moment quite well, though she believed she had dreamt it. The warmth that spread from his hand to hers was overwhelming, but it was also—in a peculiar way—comforting. That's why she had smiled. It was the warmth, the connection that he had made with her. But why? Reign scratched her tired face as she contemplated the situation.
She thought about him as she was showering, still trying to understand his intentions. His eyes drifted into her mind as the water poured over her closed lids. Those piercing steel eyes that had gone over her in the bookshop in Hogsmeade. Those eyes that had held arrogance and contempt. Those same eyes that expressed concern for her well-being. They were so mesmerizing. Much more interesting to stare into than Severus'. His were always cold and spiteful, even when he was being sincere. Malfoy's eyes were a gathering storm; the shades of gray swirled in his sockets and captured the minds of all who gazed at them.
Reign stepped out of the shower and dried herself off.
Her wet hair lay soft on her shoulders, and she compared it to Malfoy's. His was much duller in color compared to hers, though his locks were paler than most. It made him seem...wiser, in a way. It was hard to explain what she thought of it. She curled her upper lip as she stared into the mirror, trying to imitate him. He seemed so...proud. He always carried himself high as he strutted everywhere, though where most would think that was a sign of arrogance, it made Reign feel safe. And yet she also felt vulnerable around him.
And his nose wasn't hooked like Snape's, and his square jaw and strong neck were both forces in themselves to be reckoned with. His wardrobe was definitely taken into more consideration than the Potion master's. Everything about him was well taken care of—even the buttons of his cloak. The only thing that she could not compare were their voices—nothing would ever come close to the soothing, shiver-inducing tone of Snape's. But those eyes. And the way he smiled. He had a wonderful smile, etched with lines of character that made him seem actually human.
Reign stopped as she pulled on her last boot. What in the name of all that is good was she thinking? She hardly knew this man and here she was talking to herself about how attractive he was. The elf cursed herself as she stood up and straightened her clothes. Her knees creaked under the pressure of her tired body. She brushed off her emotions and decided that it was only a side effect to her shock and disappointment of Snape's rejection of her. After all, it wasn't the first time that she had fallen into the arms of the first man who let her after a broken relationship; and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But this time she would try, for the sake of her sanity, to slow down. She shrugged it off as she pulled on her robes and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
It was the first time the entire student body had seen her since her dramatic arrival a few days earlier, and the same curious and shocked looks crept up their faces as she walked down the center aisle. She kept her head held high and her posture straight as she strode toward Albus at the staff table. A hand reached out and took hold of her robes, and she looked slowly toward the perpetrator. It was a seventh year Gryffindor with brilliant red hair—Ronald Weasley. Her stone face softened when she took sight of his nervous smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder and beamed warmly at him and his friends.
"Good morning."
"Morning," they chimed. Ron and Harry sat next to each other while Hermione sat across from them. Their fellow Gryffindors stared in awe at their relationship with the elf—carefree and friendly. Reign scanned the table, taking in the smells of the breakfast foods and the students drooling over them. She stopped at the sight of a young woman who looked very much like herself. Reign cocked her head, eyeing the girl inquisitively. Her hair was much darker, but the shape of her face and her features looked very much like the elf's. A shiver ran up Reign's spine as the girl laughed—she even sounded like her.
From across the table, Caelan controlled herself after hearing about one of Neville Longbottom's infamous unfortunate events.
"You should have seen the look on Professor Snape's face! He looked like someone had just caught him with his britches down!" Caelan was laughing again at Seamus Finnigan's recollection. When her giggling resided and she wiped the tears from her eyes, she noticed the older woman staring at her intriguingly. She straightened up and stared straight back. So this is the woman I remind Professor Snape of, she thought silently. The girl gave a wave and a smile to Reign, who was startled by her sudden gestures. Nevertheless, she returned the notion with a warm smile of her own.
"Do you want to sit with us?" Ron asked, trying to avert her attention back to them.
"Pardon? Oh yes, I'd love to," she answered, looking back at the girl. She was eating now. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the Headmaster, who beckoned her to the front of the hall. "I'll be right back," she said to the trio. "Save me a spot." As she glided to the staff table, she dared to take a glimpse at Severus, who sat toward the end. He was watching her as she walked, but when her eyes met his, the saddened look was quickly replaced with a contemptuous glare. Reign looked away and stepped up to speak with Albus.
"Good morning," he whispered to her. "How are we feeling this fine day?" Reign rubbed her sore neck as she answered.
"I've been better." The old wizard smiled at her.
"Haven't we all?" he said with a wink. "Well since you are here, I thought I would introduce you to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." His eyes twinkled as he spoke and Reign could sense a deeper meaning. "Or perhaps re-introduce you," he added with a smirk. He turned to his left and looked down the table toward a young woman whom Reign knew she recognized from somewhere. That soft brown hair and predominant features set off an alarm in her mind, though she could not place a name with the face. She was speaking with Professor Trelawney, who had just said something that obviously offended her in some way. She pursed her lips and took on a very serious tone.
And with that Reign immediately recognized her.
