Title – Realization
Authoress – Phoenix Tears
Summary – Eighth in a series of short vignettes, 'Bad Faith', in which Draco finds out about the true events from a bit of eavesdropping under an Invisibility Cloak.
Rating – PG
Warning – Slash, angst.
Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.
~*~
It was a bright, sunny morning in May, and the trees around the lake at Hogwarts were lush and green. Though it was early – only around six – I was up.
Draco Malfoy is always up early.
What, did you think I was a late-riser? Ha! Never.
I took a shower in the large marble-tiled bathroom lined with black onyx, and relished the feeling of hot water splashing against my alabaster skin. Oh, but having my own room had its advantages.
And disadvantages.
For one, I missed Blaise – Zabini, I chastised myself – like hell.
His thick black hair and haunting violet eyes stayed with me all day – and all night. I told myself I did not need him; he had cheated on me and slept with Parkinson. One does not humiliate a Malfoy and live it down.
He didn't live it down, I made sure of it.
The first step was the most painful – moving out and plastering on that long disused ice-cold mask of mine. I had taken it off every since Blaise had entered my life as a lover; it was the first time I had ever let anyone, besides Father and Professor Snape, so close to my heart.
And I had it broken, so soon.
I should have listened to Mother.
"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus, Draconis," she said clearly, giving me my daily lessons in Latin. "Repeat it, Draco. Love is rich with both honey and venom."
She told me that, once long, long ago, when I was still little and she was still my mother. I wish I had remembered her words.
The first night, I went to sleep, the tears building up inside. I wouldn't cry; I doubted I could even cry. Malfoys did not cry; we have never had the need to. So I just let the tears amount in my heart, until they flooded my heart's barriers, and left it empty.
I threw myself even more into my studies, using the time I had previously spent with Blaise – Zabini, Zabini! – to hone my Seeker skills, Quidditch strategies, prefect duties, and class assignments. I ventured out nightly to the hidden music room on the sixth floor corridor, next to a statue of a stern-faced angel with majestic wings. Angel, as I called him, had come to recognize me and let me in regularly, his normally stoic face lighting up faintly with a gentle smile whenever he saw me. Angel reminded me of Father.
The lines of their faces were both sharp, angular, yet altogether beautiful, like true angels. Fallen angels, angels that had lost their wings but not their etherealness.
My Invisibility Cloak that Father had given me came in handy, as I didn't want anyone to find out about my sacred sanctuary.
In the music room, there was a beautiful, ebony-black grand piano set in the middle of a huge tiled floor. A glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling, yet I never lit it, for fear of someone seeing my secret room and coming in to disturb my silence.
I played there on the weekends; sometimes on the weekday afternoons, if time permitted. Father sent me stacks of classical piano pieces to practice, so I would not fall out of practice. I loved music – music was just like magic, with a power and enigma of its own. No one ever disturbed me, and I doubted anyone ever would.
One weekend, when I was going from the dungeons and walking up stairwells to reach the music room, I passed Professor Snape's office. Hearing voices inside, I thought that, perhaps, it might be Father.
I missed Father dearly, even though he sent regular letters.
However, upon pressing my ear to his door – in my Invisibility Cloak, of course, how plebeian it would seem for a Malfoy to be caught eavesdropping – I heard that it was naturally, Professor Snape and, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini.
"Professor, you called me here to discuss something?" Blaise asked.
"Yes, Mr. Zabini," Professor Snape said. "It is about the incident pertaining Miss Parkinson and Mr. Malfoy that took place in the Shrieking Shack on the night of the Hogsmeade trip. Miss Parkinson may have Mr. Malfoy fooled into thinking what she wants him to think, but I am not so easily deceived."
"I- I'm not deceiving anyone, sir."
"Veritas." Professor Snape's whispering of the Truth Spell held me transfixed. "Tell me, Mr. Zabini, tell me of everything concerning that Hogsmeade night when Mr. Malfoy found you with Miss Parkinson in the Shrieking Shack."
I stood, my ear pressed against the cold wood door, listening to Blaise confess. "Pansy put me under Imperius the night before Hogsmeade, when Draco had gone out for Quidditch practice. I think she was jealous of me, perhaps. She issued orders the next day, in Hogsmeade, and she told me to have sex with her in the Shrieking Shack. I couldn't break Imperius, I'm not as strong of will as Draco, and I had to do it. Draco came in and saw us, and there was nothing I could do to stop him from leaving."
Snape's soft voice spoke, "How did you feel about the whole event, Mr. Zabini?"
"I wanted to kill Pansy. I wanted to kill myself. He left the next morning – came in, took his belongings, and left. I never knew where he lived; I only saw him in classes, but he never talked or even glanced my way. Vince and Greg didn't talk to me, either; they sensed something was wrong. I was so depressed and I missed Draco so, so much. I missed him so much and he wouldn't even look at me. He told me that I was a whore. He told me that he wanted to be away from me." Blaise was audibly shuddering by now.
kill pansy kill pansy kill myself so weak kill…
never knew where he lived never talked never glanced…
something wrong bad so depressed missed draco so much…
told me I was a whore you're a cold-blooded whore…
"I love him, Professor. I love him so fucking much it hurts – it hurts deep down in my heart, and my heart feels like it's going to break, split into a thousand pieces. And no one will ever be there to pick up those shards and put them back together, because Draco is the only one that can do that, and he hates me, now. I hate myself so much right now for not being strong enough, I hate Pansy for starting all of this… but I love him."
heart feels break thousand pieces no one there…
love him so fucking much love him love him….
draco hates me now he hates me hates me…
hate myself not strong enough hate pansy but I love him…
"Finite Incantatem," Professor Snape whispered, his voice shaking from listening to Blaise's confession. "Thank you, Mr. Zabini. You may go back to your dormitory."
I heard Blaise's distressed thoughts rambling as he walked out of Professor Snape's chambers, as I was pressed up against the wall, hidden in my Invisibility Cloak.
There was some talking I needed to do with several of my Housemates.
~*~
Authoress' Note: The run-on sentences after each paragraph of Blaise's confession are actually Blaise's thoughts, which Draco can sense. Since Draco and Blaise share a strong bond of love, they can probably sense some of each other's thoughts when the other is distressed. Thus, the rambling, mumble-jumble load of thoughts I added in there. Please review!
And thank you to mistykasumi… You reviewed ALL of my fics! I'm honoured! *grin*
