As not to draw attention to myself, I walked down the hall with my head
down. My silvery hair almost covered my forehead and gray eyes. My hands in
my pockets, I headed towards the door where I knew Potter lingered behind.
Reaching it, I smiled to myself and reached for the handle. What a surprise Potter would get when he saw me. I wondered vaguely what we would do but my musing was startled as the door swung upon and almost hit me in the face. Looking up, I swore at the danger I had almost been in. "What the hell?" Then I realized the culprit who had almost mangled me.
Potter rolled his eyes as he looked at my startled face. "Malfoy?"
I rolled my shoulders back, swept the hair out of my face, and swiftly regained my composure. Standing up straight, I held my chin up and said "Yes, that's my name, Potter. What are you doing interrupting me?"
DAMN! I swore to myself. Why, oh why, was I being such a malicious bastard?
Harry's long-lashed eyes narrowed at me. "Interrupting you? If I'm not mistaken, I was here first. So sod off, Malfoy. I don't need any of your shit and I don't want to get in a fight with you."
Taking in his angry face, I smiled and stood even straighter, if that was possible. "Not a chance, Potter." My lips curved into that unmistakable Malfoy smirk. Harry's face was an instant mask of hatred.
The smirk still lingering on my face, I swept my eyes down the length of Harry's body. Since he hadn't yet put on his black Hogwarts school robes, I could clearly see his thinness. A black belt, clearly too large for him, encircled his waist while wrists almost too small to be allowed peeked out the end of his too-small jumper. God, his relatives made him work, that was evident, but did they feed him?
His eyes caught mine as I looked back up at his face. My mouth itched to turn into a smile, to apologize for how I had gazed at him so obviously. My upbringing though, my father teaching me that all Malfoys got what we wanted, was getting in the way. I had the undesirable urge to just grab Harry - after all, I wanted him, and he was lower than me.........so why not?
"Nice look." I sneered, watching his eyes grow wide and his face turn crimson. "Looking thin today, Potter. Relatives didn't want to feed you? I guess that's understandable. Who'd want to spend hard-earned money on you?"
Harry's face was quickly drained of color, and there was a silence before he spoke. I sneered again, letting the words take full effect.
"What in the hell is WRONG with you, Malfoy? A half-hour ago, you actually seemed decent. You looked sad. I told Ron not to fight you. I felt bad for you. Minutes later, I go into your compartment and find you trying to kill yourself!! You were actually kind to me, for once. You don't curse me. I wanted to ask you, Malfoy...I wanted to ask you..."
He was silent, and I stood there, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to continue.
"What happened this summer, Malfoy? Last year, when I left, you hated me more than before, you insulted my friends, my family, laughed at me when you had heard of Voldemort trying to kill me - and then, look at you now! You're acting like your normal self, Malfoy, like the bastard you are, but I saw what you were doing in that compartment. I saw what happened to your wrists, and I know that you want to talk about it. Behind your cool, calm, façade, you're just like me. You just want to get it off your chest. So, Malfoy, I'm here to talk to, but you can't make any remarks, and you can't tell a soul - I don't know why I'm trusting you, but I am. Do you want to talk, or not?"
I crossed my arms and kept my eyebrows raised, but the smirk had melted from my face. It was true that I had changed, my abuse over the summer had affected me, but like I was going to tell him, my worst enemy, what had happened!
"Right, Potter. I'm going to tell you what happened to me. I've never talked to you before, why should I start now?" Calm and aloof, I watched Harry as his face gradually darkened, just like my fathers had done when I had disobeyed him, the porcelain-white skin slowly growing red with anger.
"Dammit, Malfoy, can't you just accept your feelings and TALK ABOUT THEM? I know we've not been the best of friends, I know you've been raised to hate me, I know that as soon as you get home for the holidays you're going to have that disgusting mark burnt into your skin just like your father, you're going to join with Voldemort against me...and I DON'T CARE! I want to talk to you, Malfoy, and I know you want to to. So, I'm trying again, before I lose my fuckin' nerve: do you want to talk about it?"
Heads poked out of various compartments throughout the train, each person curious to know what the commotion was about. I looked at Harry furiously, and he smiled grimly. "What do you say, Malfoy?"
I didn't know what to do – everyone was watching, and more then a few were whispering to each other. How strange this must have looked to people – a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, not two feet away from each other, and not a punch had been thrown.
"Fine." I whispered through clenched teeth. My father wouldn't want me to talk to Harry, and that was why I agreed to meet him. It was true what Harry said. Over the holidays I was going to receive the Dark Mark. I would live life for the three months I had left, and do all I could humanly do to piss my father off.
He nodded. "I'll send you an owl later." Turning, Harry walked back to meet his friends, and the few nosy people still looking out of their compartments watched him leave, then looked to me.
"Piss off!" I exclaimed, more mad at myself then at them.
What had I been thinking?
Reaching it, I smiled to myself and reached for the handle. What a surprise Potter would get when he saw me. I wondered vaguely what we would do but my musing was startled as the door swung upon and almost hit me in the face. Looking up, I swore at the danger I had almost been in. "What the hell?" Then I realized the culprit who had almost mangled me.
Potter rolled his eyes as he looked at my startled face. "Malfoy?"
I rolled my shoulders back, swept the hair out of my face, and swiftly regained my composure. Standing up straight, I held my chin up and said "Yes, that's my name, Potter. What are you doing interrupting me?"
DAMN! I swore to myself. Why, oh why, was I being such a malicious bastard?
Harry's long-lashed eyes narrowed at me. "Interrupting you? If I'm not mistaken, I was here first. So sod off, Malfoy. I don't need any of your shit and I don't want to get in a fight with you."
Taking in his angry face, I smiled and stood even straighter, if that was possible. "Not a chance, Potter." My lips curved into that unmistakable Malfoy smirk. Harry's face was an instant mask of hatred.
The smirk still lingering on my face, I swept my eyes down the length of Harry's body. Since he hadn't yet put on his black Hogwarts school robes, I could clearly see his thinness. A black belt, clearly too large for him, encircled his waist while wrists almost too small to be allowed peeked out the end of his too-small jumper. God, his relatives made him work, that was evident, but did they feed him?
His eyes caught mine as I looked back up at his face. My mouth itched to turn into a smile, to apologize for how I had gazed at him so obviously. My upbringing though, my father teaching me that all Malfoys got what we wanted, was getting in the way. I had the undesirable urge to just grab Harry - after all, I wanted him, and he was lower than me.........so why not?
"Nice look." I sneered, watching his eyes grow wide and his face turn crimson. "Looking thin today, Potter. Relatives didn't want to feed you? I guess that's understandable. Who'd want to spend hard-earned money on you?"
Harry's face was quickly drained of color, and there was a silence before he spoke. I sneered again, letting the words take full effect.
"What in the hell is WRONG with you, Malfoy? A half-hour ago, you actually seemed decent. You looked sad. I told Ron not to fight you. I felt bad for you. Minutes later, I go into your compartment and find you trying to kill yourself!! You were actually kind to me, for once. You don't curse me. I wanted to ask you, Malfoy...I wanted to ask you..."
He was silent, and I stood there, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to continue.
"What happened this summer, Malfoy? Last year, when I left, you hated me more than before, you insulted my friends, my family, laughed at me when you had heard of Voldemort trying to kill me - and then, look at you now! You're acting like your normal self, Malfoy, like the bastard you are, but I saw what you were doing in that compartment. I saw what happened to your wrists, and I know that you want to talk about it. Behind your cool, calm, façade, you're just like me. You just want to get it off your chest. So, Malfoy, I'm here to talk to, but you can't make any remarks, and you can't tell a soul - I don't know why I'm trusting you, but I am. Do you want to talk, or not?"
I crossed my arms and kept my eyebrows raised, but the smirk had melted from my face. It was true that I had changed, my abuse over the summer had affected me, but like I was going to tell him, my worst enemy, what had happened!
"Right, Potter. I'm going to tell you what happened to me. I've never talked to you before, why should I start now?" Calm and aloof, I watched Harry as his face gradually darkened, just like my fathers had done when I had disobeyed him, the porcelain-white skin slowly growing red with anger.
"Dammit, Malfoy, can't you just accept your feelings and TALK ABOUT THEM? I know we've not been the best of friends, I know you've been raised to hate me, I know that as soon as you get home for the holidays you're going to have that disgusting mark burnt into your skin just like your father, you're going to join with Voldemort against me...and I DON'T CARE! I want to talk to you, Malfoy, and I know you want to to. So, I'm trying again, before I lose my fuckin' nerve: do you want to talk about it?"
Heads poked out of various compartments throughout the train, each person curious to know what the commotion was about. I looked at Harry furiously, and he smiled grimly. "What do you say, Malfoy?"
I didn't know what to do – everyone was watching, and more then a few were whispering to each other. How strange this must have looked to people – a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, not two feet away from each other, and not a punch had been thrown.
"Fine." I whispered through clenched teeth. My father wouldn't want me to talk to Harry, and that was why I agreed to meet him. It was true what Harry said. Over the holidays I was going to receive the Dark Mark. I would live life for the three months I had left, and do all I could humanly do to piss my father off.
He nodded. "I'll send you an owl later." Turning, Harry walked back to meet his friends, and the few nosy people still looking out of their compartments watched him leave, then looked to me.
"Piss off!" I exclaimed, more mad at myself then at them.
What had I been thinking?