JB: Wow, thanks again for reviewing. Your encouragement is empowering. And I personally think that the second chapter is the worst. Thanks to everyone who read but mostly to the ones that review. wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more
The Great Hall isn't as full as yesterday. It's Saturday, I'd sleep in to, if I were home. I sit at my appointed table, facing the opposite end of the room. A blonde haired boy sits at the far table, facing me. He looks at me and I look at him. He half smiles, with a little laugh. I narrow my eyes at him. I don't like the way he's acting. I'll ask Harry when he comes in.
I get myself some toast and butter it. It's browned perfectly, a waste to eat it really. Harry, Ron and Hermione come down soon enough and sit near me. I lean in and ask, "Who's that blonde boy over at the far end?"
Ron looks over his shoulder and sneers. "Draco Malfoy, Slytherin. He's in our year and he hates Harry," he adds as an afterthought. I raise my eyebrows and pull my tape recorder from my bag.
"Subjects' enemies: Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, same age, blonde," and press stop when I'm finished. I smile at them, "I doubt he'll be bothering you anymore." I finish my toast and walk out of the Great Hall.
I decide to have a look around. I head outside and saunter around the grounds. They're beautiful, for dreary old England. The sun is shining and the lake is sparkling. The warm air licks my face. The Forest is dark though, like the castle. Do they ever light up?
By now, I've walked all the way around the castle, a full circle. The stone steps are visible. And on them sits a sparkle of gold, a boy in black. Draco Malfoy, as I'm told. Like a golden flake in a pendant of ebony. His skin is pale and looks soft to the touch. The high check bones and icy features make him look surreal. His body is fine, a good example of masculine perfection.
He turns his head my way. I haven't noticed that I've completely stopped and am staring full out right. He smiles, a sweet smile, not the one I've seen before, at the breakfast table. He stands and glides towards me. He actually glides, like he never touches the grounds.
"I know why you're here," he says, in a remote voice, deep and cool like the grey depths of his eyes, as he stops before me. I continue to stare, aware of my weakness but refusing to look away. I want to reach out and touch that skin, to feel the softness. He looks down, uncomfortably, "Professor Snape told us last night, after dinner."
"Severus?" is all I can manage. He looks up and his brow pushes together in confusion. The first name, I've always used his first name. Now, I am his student and I must stop. "Then you know why I have to follow you too," I say to break the silence. I want to hear his voice again, to feel the cool of it against my checks.
But he just nods and tries a small grin. "Do you really have the right to kill on the spot?" the question pours out of him. That's all he's wanted to know. I hate him for it, but the ice hits me first. Now I nod. "Then it's true, what they say. 'If looks can kill, they probably will.'" Then he turns around and leaves. The fact he didn't say it in the conditional, would kill, tense, shocks me more than his body walking away.
Oy, I would jump in this lake right now if it would bring the ice of his voice back. No, he is the enemy. Typical, they all leave, I'm alone. You are alone, I repeat it to myself. You need to be alone, or else you'll die.
I continue to stand there, glued to the spot, until I'm sure he's gone. Then I run. I run like my life depended on it, because it does. I run upstairs, into the common room, past Harry, Ron and Hermione, into my room. I bolt the door behind me, then fling myself on my bed and cry. Sobs of loneliness, sobs of despair. The words, 'You are alone, Jennifer Dobbins, and you must always be alone.' Why, I think, but the answer is before me and is known to be since I left my live behind. Because I am the best.
To be the best is to stand alone.
A timid knock comes to my door. "Jen, it's Harry," says Harry. No duh it's Harry, who else would care? "Can I come in?"
"For heaven's sake Harry," comes Hermiones voice. "Alohamora!" she yells at the door. The bolt returns safely to it's home. They enter, gently, and I pull my covers up over my face. I'm embarrassed at my moment of weakness, at my wanting for a friend.
One of them sits quietly on the side of my bed. A hand pulls back the covers and I make no move to stop it. Harry is staring me in the face, worry in his kelly eyes, hidden behind his glasses. His face is full but not fat, plump. I never noticed how beautiful he was before. I look to the foot of the bed, where Hermione stands. She's beautiful too. And on my right is Ron, also beautiful.
"Why are you all so beautiful?" I ask is disbelief. They look uncomfortably at each other. Ron shrugs his shoulders and Hermione laughs a bit.
"Are you feeling all right?" Harry pushes on. He looks concerned, but is he really? Would they have opened my door by force if they weren't?
"You guys are such great friends, you know?" I start to cry again. The others laugh uncomfortably. They have made friends with a crazy person. Typical, huh? They always get the crazy ones. "And Malfoy isn't all that bad. He was perfectly sweet when I talked to him." Ron tuts and shakes his head. I play punch him. What are friends for?
We spend the rest of the weekend in my room, for the most part. One afternoon we went down to Hagrid's hut so I could meet him. He had heard about me, obviously everyone except Harry had. Funny how word gets around like that.