Creep – Chapter 5
It had been two days since I received Draco's reply to my letter. The reply contained better news that I had hoped for, so I did not bother to reply and possibly damage this fragile truce he had agreed to. Tomorrow I would be going back to Hogwarts, and I couldn't wait. The major threat was gone, yes, but that didn't make school any easier. Muggle television was certainly right when it came to school. A horrible place of rumours, self-consciousness and finding trying to look good for the prom despite being the ugly duckling. This thought made me touch my hair; my Mother had decided that I should not only be the best student at Hogwarts, but that I should be the best looking. Despite her heavy investments in the past week in a trip to a salon and expensive hair product, I still didn't see much change in my curly bush of hair. It would, no doubt once again, be one of the sources of my aggravation this year.
This quasi-truce with Malfoy could only make things better. I was overjoyed, although incredibly aggravated to read his letter. It will be good to have a truce with the boy I have to live with, however why did he have to be such a prat about everything else? And what in the world did he mean by pity? And he knows I can't tell Harry or Ron yet so why in the world would he encourage me? And-
Crookshanks jumped into my lap, ending my train of thought and forcing laughter out of me.
"Sweet kitty" I murmured and softly stroked the giant fur ball in my lap.
*****
Tomorrow was the day. I was intrigued to see what this year would bring me, but at the same time leaving the Manor was the last thing I wanted to do. Mother had entered into a new phase of her illness. Whatever it was that had snapped in her mind when she killed Father was either healing itself slowly or was irreparable and Mother had taken that final plunge into incoherent madness. She had spent the past few days in her child-like state, which relieved me, as she was much less destructive that way. However, she insisted on spouting her vague assertions as to what my future would be like. Continuously, she would mumble ambiguous statements to me about my future and a mysterious her. According to Mother, I was destined for a happy life of wealth and love. Wealth we had, love I could do without. As I recalled, Mother had loved Father with a depth that surprised both of them. Look what happened to that. He nearly destroyed her, she destroyed him, then finished the job he had started on herself. If that is what you get from love, I certainly don't need it.
Hermione hadn't replied to my letter. I suppose that was a good thing, as much as I have allowed her to call me friend, I really don't want anything to do with her. She can enjoy her newly perfect life and leave me to wallow in my misery. I have no need of a friend, especially when I see what happened to the last friends I had.
It really wasn't supposed to be like this. My information was key. Father's unfortunate demise had opened the perfect window of opportunity for us all to get out of this unscathed. I was never one of them; Father raised me and even trained me with the goal of my eventually joining them but ultimately when the final moments came, I was no more a Death Eater than that foolish girl Granger.
Think, Draco, think of the lives you'll save.
D inside and well buried, I must have a hero's heart of gold. What in the world possessed me to risk life and limb to save such a sorry bunch of wizards? I can still hear that voice in my head, that idiot conscience I never thought I had.
A world without pain, Draco. You can help build it.
They were all supposed to live. Only the Death Eaters, only their parents were supposed to die. But nothing ever works out perfectly, unless of course, you're the boy wonder Harry Potter. Not only was he alive, he is sitting pretty. Excepting his fool parents, no one he loved or knew had really died. Perfect, lucky little bastard. Of course, no one I loved had died either. I didn't love anyone, not with the foolish depth and breadth of emotion the Golden Trio seemed to. Mother proved to me years ago that love was pain. I had enough pain growing up, thank you. I don't need anymore.
No matter how wonderful it would be to have someone. No matter how warm and soft a woman can be. No matter how good Granger looked in that café
…
What the fuck? Where the bloody hell did that come from? I did not just think that. I did not. I am under a lot of stress. I had too much wine with dinner. I certainly did not just… I am not thinking it again. I refuse.
