The Reader of Books
Disclaimer: I own all!!!! (Except Harry Potter, and all adjoining statures,
from a story based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is
being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended)
A/N: Ok this is actually a rewrite of my old story, and blah, blah, blah . (Flames will be taken preferably with marshmallows. mmm marshmallows.)
~^~^~Chapter Two - Still Sleepless~^~^~
Another bad dream, another sleepless night.
He sighed in exasperation. Draco wouldn't be sleeping tonight, *again*. So he may as well do something with a possible hint of fun, and probably a lot of depression.
But despair was good. He could wrap himself in it, hide again from everything that plagues the silent, sleepless nights. If only.
It would be so easy to stop resisting, stop fighting it. Sink into oblivion and forget this crap and die.
But his own mind wouldn't let him sink, not like that. He had to keep on living, pretend to at least. Simply because his father said so. He decided Draco's days, his happiness, and his life. But Draco's nights and his grief were his own. He could never take them.
Most of the time Draco felt he feared happiness. The rest of the time he craved it. But no matter when or how it came, it always left, leaving him to wallow in self-pity once again.
Happiness is just another butterfly, to float by and never be seen again, to die unseen and unheard. Nothing could destroy grief. It was impenetrable, even his father couldn't take it.
Happiness dies. Anger burns out. Envy and Lust fade. Misery stays engraved into you, leaving its scars to haunt you.
Draco stood up, no longer lying meanlessly on the bed. He wouldn't be sleeping. Not tonight.
Picking himself from the sheets, sticky from sweat on the warm night, and pulled the invisibility cloak from his trunk.
An invisibility cloak. After years of begging his father, he had finally gotten it, another bribe to keep him quiet, to just shut Draco up.
His father did a lot of things for that reason. But Draco had the advantage and he liked it to stay that way. If he was on top the ones underneath could never hurt him. At least that's what he tried to tell himself.
It would be another night of wandering, sliding down long corridors, another insubstantial shadow. He loved this cloak.
He could roam the castle freely at night whenever he chose, wherever, and see anyone he wanted with their guard down, in the way you never really saw them. You could never see someone truly until you saw them when they thought you couldn't. You could get to know someone like that, without ever speaking a word. It was all written on their face when they thought no one could see.
Draco wandered out through the cool, draughty corridors. The portraits all slept now, slow wheezing breaths of who knows what blew from their portraits, making no draft, no breeze. He never really understood how the figures in the portraits worked.
Could they die? Did they have thoughts and feelings? Did they eat? How? When? Could they even digest???
But he didn't exactly expect an answer to the questions. Maybe it was just one of those things that just happen. Who knows why?
Who cares?
He was as insubstantial as a handful of moonlight. Lavender drifted past, her arms around the waist of some handsome Ravenclaw he didn't know. Her eyes were dreamy and unfocused, lost in her happy world with the one she loved. Draco felt envy rise inside him. How dare she have love when he didn't? How dare she be happy when he was so unhappy?
When he finally saw Her, he thought he was hallucinating. What were the chances of the one who occupied his very thoughts, and kept him from his bed wandering the castle at this time?
But it was her, slipping from behind a statue in absolute silence.
Ethany.
Brown hair, black in the darkness, was ruffled into waves, robes askew on narrow shoulders, green eyes sparkled with their own ghostly light, setting all else of her face in shadow. Draco stalked her along the corridor, holding his breath as he walked alongside. He could almost touch her. Of course he never would, but just the thought. he shivered in the warm air.
He would never touch her.
She was standing there, all guards down, bookless. Draco saw her eyes unguarded for once, glittering with light reflected from nowhere. He watched as her face was alternately illuminated and cast into shadow by the pools of moonlight flooding in from dark windows.
Yet despite her dishevelled appearance she seemed serene as ever, no worries. Her eyes said something different.
For once they showed something else, something inside her. They showed a tortured soul he wasn't supposed to know about. He didn't want to know.
Her eyes were exposed, showing a soul. He had never have thought of her with a soul. He thought of her with a book.
She didn't hide in the shadows, but created her own darkness, shielding herself but not hiding. She didn't know there was anything to hide from.
Ethany was nervous, jumpy, shivering in the warm air. Something wasn't right. She rubbed her hands together in the darkness, as if trying to warm them. There was no cold.
She was doubtful, tormented. Like him. He wondered what she looked like happy. He doubted he would ever know.
She was creeping along the corridor, trying to fold into herself, making a slight form tiny, bowing her head. She wanted to hide, but didn't.
She suddenly tripped, sprawling on the stone floor. Draco stopped himself from helping her up. He wasn't supposed to be here.
A tiny cry escaped her lips, breaking the silence of the castle. She picked herself up slowly, hesitatingly, staring at something on her arm. As if in slow motion, he saw her foot slide along the floor, pulling the invisibility cloak.
Oh shit.
_____________________
Her foot tore the cloak from him, sliding it along the floor into the door of an unlocked classroom.
*I should run.* Draco's thoughts responded sluggishly, but it was too late. She had seen him, and running wouldn't exactly help. She looked like she was about to scream, throw up or cry. Instead she decided to be extremely pissed off.
"What the hell are you doing, stalking me?" her voice was quiet, dripping with spite.
An insane eternity passed. Nothing moved, at all.
"How long have you been following me?" she asked again, calmer.
"A while" he mumbled, staring guiltily at his shoes.
"But. I mean. why. why were you following me!" she said, obviously trying to sound angry. But anger just wasn't there. She just looked. sad.
"I saw you walking along. you didn't look well so." ok plan B. He would act as he always did. Not a great plan, but better than his other plan, throw up on her shoes.
"You looked as though you would throw up, and I'm on detention tomorrow. Knowing filch he'll leave it there all day" he drawled, feeling his familiar sneer come into place. This was how he worked the "Malfoy magic". Act as though you were working for yourself, which didn't include caring the slightest about her.
He wanted to be nice to her. He couldn't. So he'd be a Malfoy.
"You know this is the first time I've actually seen your face you know that? You're always," he said, with the 'good old' sneer, "reading", drawling it out like it was something foul.
This was probably the closest thing to a chance he had to show her he might possibly actually have some kind of feeling for her. He knew he shouldn't waste it. But of course he would. Even he couldn't stop himself.
Not that he didn't try. His mind ordered him to stop, remember. This was as close as a chance he was going to get with her. He tried not to mess it up like he always did.
He was at a point where he was pleading with himself. That normally wasn't a good sign.
But old habits die hard, and no matter how he tried, from so long shielding himself, the shield wouldn't come down. He couldn't even show her some sympathy. All he could do was lower his sneer slightly and stare back at his shoes.
She was still working on being mad at him, but suddenly, without warning, her face crumpled into a sob, and she fell to the ground once more. Finally he got his face to work, and let whatever sympathy he could show. It wasn't much.
He held a hand out to help her up. She didn't take it.
"What's wrong with you." he muttered, looking away from even his shoes.
She scowled, pulling herself up, to leave his hand dangling uselessly in the stagnant air.
"What was in that letter anyway?" he asked, glancing slightly at her. Bad choice. She scowled, stepping away.
She stared at him, eyes glowing with intensity in the shadowed corridor.
"You know, I just said the stalking thing to make you go away. I mean. I" she looked away, straightening her robes to something resembling orderly. She was tiny underneath, a narrow shouldered frame hidden in bulky robes, at least two sizes too big.
"Just. leave me alone. Go stalk. Padma. "
"Padma?" Draco asked, his left eyebrow steadily rising. "Padma Patil?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"She's." Ethany tried to think of something nice to say about Padma. She could think of a couple of words to call her, touchy, prissy, giggling twit. but she somehow doubted that would make him really want to go out with her.
Finally Ethany came out with, "she's pretty."
"And?" Draco countered, his eyebrow finally risen to about a centimetre below his hairline.
"And what?"
"And what does she have that you don't?"
Ethany's eyes blazed. He hadn't just called her pretty had he?
Draco's eyebrow dropped, his eyes falling back down to his shoes.
"Just go. Leave me alone." She said, staring disconsolately at the floor, the side table, the walls. Anywhere away from him.
"What was in that letter?" too late Draco realized his mistake.
How was he meant to know that if he wasn't watching her?
She stared at him, intense eyes spitting malice.
"You know I just said the stalking thing to make you go away," she said, an ironic smile starting to form, overriding anger.
"Uh-huh" Draco muttered back, resuming staring at his shoes. "Well?"
Ethany looked away again, staring back at the roof. He was busy looking at the floor, so there was nowhere else left to stare blankly.
"Well what?" she replied, trying to sound indifferent, fighting to pretend her hands weren't shaking. This wasn't supposed to be happening.
"Well what was in the letter?"
"And I should tell you because?"
"Because." Draco fought with himself to find a reason that didn't involve him killing her. "I don't know."
"Just." Ethany faded off, knowing what she had to say, and hated the words. "Just go away".
She slowly turned around, feeling every second ticking around her.
Draco sighed. The only way to make her stay was to threaten her life. Right, that would make her like him.
"Tell me."
She smiled ruefully into the dark corridor ahead.
"Or what?"
"I'll. I'll." he couldn't get the words out.
Ethany fought the temptation to turn around.
"I'm not going to tell you!" was her only reply, fading down the corridor. She was nearly at the end.
"Why not!" he shouted back, begging anything he could to stop her.
"Well, I don't want to die!" She replied, finally stopping and turning her head around.
"I won't kill you?" he offered, praying to his shoes she would stop.
She laughed in reply, spinning around, her robes flying out from around her.
"So this is the great evil of Slytherin?" she whispered, the silence, and the corridor drawing the words out around him.
"This isn't my choice. I don't know what you know. Hell, I don't know what I know. But, trust me, running around in a mask killing defenceless people isn't as much fun as it seems"
"And I have so many reasons to trust you" she whispered again, eyes hardened, all playfulness gone.
Draco didn't look up from his shoes. They were far less confusing than she was.
He shook his head, finally staring back at her.
"Fuck this" he whispered into the night air, eyes meeting hers for the second time this long, confusing night.
He turned and walked slowly, controlling every step with far more power than he thought he could ever have.
Ethany sighed, blowing warm air into the stifling corridor.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, not really wanting him to hear. She didn't forgive easily. He didn't even know he had to be forgiven.
"About what?" Draco muttered, more anger than he felt escaping through his words.
She sighed again, wishing this was just over. She hadn't talked to anyone really for about two years, and she wasn't used to it. Anybody watching it would have found the sight hilarious. They were alone.
She stared back at the ground. Draco turned back around, resuming her post of staring at the roof.
He stayed voiceless, stubbornly refusing to forgive her. Why, he didn't know, but he had to. "I don't have a choice." Draco said, finally cutting his own silence. "I don't like most muggles. That doesn't mean I want to run around in a mask murdering them! I am not my father, no matter what he wants to tell himself" he ended with a weary sigh.
She smiled darkly, eyes lingering on the floor. She looked back up at him at the same time he looked down at her. Draco quickly stooped his head back down, coward as always. He wouldn't dare meet her eyes.
She smiled on. Lowly the smile dropped, her eyes matching it, falling to the floor once again.
"Like I have much of a choice," she muttered back to the still air. Draco got the feeling he wasn't supposed to have heard. Things had gotten very quiet. They both seemed very busy with their shoes.
"You know, my shoes are telling me to talk to you. That's a bad sign, right?" he said, taking their advice. The shoes knew far better than he did.
Ethany hesitated. "You talk to your shoes?"
"You don't?"
Again, silence.
"Maybe we should stop staring at our shoes?" he suggested, wondering what else he could say.
She didn't look up. Neither did he. Glancing up he saw her laughing, silently, looking back at him. He just couldn't help it.
The laugh was infectious.
But before long the laugh was gone and they were left back in silence.
"You know, this is the first conversation I've had in like two years and we're not talking", she said, staring back into his eyes. For once he didn't look at his shoes.
"Then talk," he said fighting the urge to look back down at his shoes. At the time, they were a lot easier to talk to than she was. "I suppose you could tell me all about your wonderful problems?" he suggested, glancing back up at her.
Uh-oh. Wrong thing to say.
"If I told you I'd have to kill you," she said, each word cutting the air, her voice toxic with sincerity.
"Then kill me," he said, for once looking straight into her eyes. He so wished he hadn't.
A silent tear crept tentatively down her face, leaving a thin trail of moonlight. She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
"Well?" he asked, expecting anger. But she had none left.
Ethany sighed and shook her head.
"Not here. If someone hears.her words withered in her mouth. "I haven't even told Dumbledore yet."
Draco nodded, wondering where they couldn't be overheard. Somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed. He knew one place. She would never go there.
And even then, his father was probably monitoring his room. Actually, it was more than probable. But. wait. They wouldn't be watching the roofs.
"This'll be really weird, but I think I know a place we won't be overheard."
______________________________
A/N: ok I know the stories strange, and it doesn't really make sense, but please review! Woohoo!!! Just as I was writing this I got 2 reviews!!!! *Explodes with happiness* oops. I exploded again. anyway thanks sooooooooooooooooo much!!!
Disclaimer: I own all!!!! (Except Harry Potter, and all adjoining statures,
from a story based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is
being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended)
A/N: Ok this is actually a rewrite of my old story, and blah, blah, blah . (Flames will be taken preferably with marshmallows. mmm marshmallows.)
~^~^~Chapter Two - Still Sleepless~^~^~
Another bad dream, another sleepless night.
He sighed in exasperation. Draco wouldn't be sleeping tonight, *again*. So he may as well do something with a possible hint of fun, and probably a lot of depression.
But despair was good. He could wrap himself in it, hide again from everything that plagues the silent, sleepless nights. If only.
It would be so easy to stop resisting, stop fighting it. Sink into oblivion and forget this crap and die.
But his own mind wouldn't let him sink, not like that. He had to keep on living, pretend to at least. Simply because his father said so. He decided Draco's days, his happiness, and his life. But Draco's nights and his grief were his own. He could never take them.
Most of the time Draco felt he feared happiness. The rest of the time he craved it. But no matter when or how it came, it always left, leaving him to wallow in self-pity once again.
Happiness is just another butterfly, to float by and never be seen again, to die unseen and unheard. Nothing could destroy grief. It was impenetrable, even his father couldn't take it.
Happiness dies. Anger burns out. Envy and Lust fade. Misery stays engraved into you, leaving its scars to haunt you.
Draco stood up, no longer lying meanlessly on the bed. He wouldn't be sleeping. Not tonight.
Picking himself from the sheets, sticky from sweat on the warm night, and pulled the invisibility cloak from his trunk.
An invisibility cloak. After years of begging his father, he had finally gotten it, another bribe to keep him quiet, to just shut Draco up.
His father did a lot of things for that reason. But Draco had the advantage and he liked it to stay that way. If he was on top the ones underneath could never hurt him. At least that's what he tried to tell himself.
It would be another night of wandering, sliding down long corridors, another insubstantial shadow. He loved this cloak.
He could roam the castle freely at night whenever he chose, wherever, and see anyone he wanted with their guard down, in the way you never really saw them. You could never see someone truly until you saw them when they thought you couldn't. You could get to know someone like that, without ever speaking a word. It was all written on their face when they thought no one could see.
Draco wandered out through the cool, draughty corridors. The portraits all slept now, slow wheezing breaths of who knows what blew from their portraits, making no draft, no breeze. He never really understood how the figures in the portraits worked.
Could they die? Did they have thoughts and feelings? Did they eat? How? When? Could they even digest???
But he didn't exactly expect an answer to the questions. Maybe it was just one of those things that just happen. Who knows why?
Who cares?
He was as insubstantial as a handful of moonlight. Lavender drifted past, her arms around the waist of some handsome Ravenclaw he didn't know. Her eyes were dreamy and unfocused, lost in her happy world with the one she loved. Draco felt envy rise inside him. How dare she have love when he didn't? How dare she be happy when he was so unhappy?
When he finally saw Her, he thought he was hallucinating. What were the chances of the one who occupied his very thoughts, and kept him from his bed wandering the castle at this time?
But it was her, slipping from behind a statue in absolute silence.
Ethany.
Brown hair, black in the darkness, was ruffled into waves, robes askew on narrow shoulders, green eyes sparkled with their own ghostly light, setting all else of her face in shadow. Draco stalked her along the corridor, holding his breath as he walked alongside. He could almost touch her. Of course he never would, but just the thought. he shivered in the warm air.
He would never touch her.
She was standing there, all guards down, bookless. Draco saw her eyes unguarded for once, glittering with light reflected from nowhere. He watched as her face was alternately illuminated and cast into shadow by the pools of moonlight flooding in from dark windows.
Yet despite her dishevelled appearance she seemed serene as ever, no worries. Her eyes said something different.
For once they showed something else, something inside her. They showed a tortured soul he wasn't supposed to know about. He didn't want to know.
Her eyes were exposed, showing a soul. He had never have thought of her with a soul. He thought of her with a book.
She didn't hide in the shadows, but created her own darkness, shielding herself but not hiding. She didn't know there was anything to hide from.
Ethany was nervous, jumpy, shivering in the warm air. Something wasn't right. She rubbed her hands together in the darkness, as if trying to warm them. There was no cold.
She was doubtful, tormented. Like him. He wondered what she looked like happy. He doubted he would ever know.
She was creeping along the corridor, trying to fold into herself, making a slight form tiny, bowing her head. She wanted to hide, but didn't.
She suddenly tripped, sprawling on the stone floor. Draco stopped himself from helping her up. He wasn't supposed to be here.
A tiny cry escaped her lips, breaking the silence of the castle. She picked herself up slowly, hesitatingly, staring at something on her arm. As if in slow motion, he saw her foot slide along the floor, pulling the invisibility cloak.
Oh shit.
_____________________
Her foot tore the cloak from him, sliding it along the floor into the door of an unlocked classroom.
*I should run.* Draco's thoughts responded sluggishly, but it was too late. She had seen him, and running wouldn't exactly help. She looked like she was about to scream, throw up or cry. Instead she decided to be extremely pissed off.
"What the hell are you doing, stalking me?" her voice was quiet, dripping with spite.
An insane eternity passed. Nothing moved, at all.
"How long have you been following me?" she asked again, calmer.
"A while" he mumbled, staring guiltily at his shoes.
"But. I mean. why. why were you following me!" she said, obviously trying to sound angry. But anger just wasn't there. She just looked. sad.
"I saw you walking along. you didn't look well so." ok plan B. He would act as he always did. Not a great plan, but better than his other plan, throw up on her shoes.
"You looked as though you would throw up, and I'm on detention tomorrow. Knowing filch he'll leave it there all day" he drawled, feeling his familiar sneer come into place. This was how he worked the "Malfoy magic". Act as though you were working for yourself, which didn't include caring the slightest about her.
He wanted to be nice to her. He couldn't. So he'd be a Malfoy.
"You know this is the first time I've actually seen your face you know that? You're always," he said, with the 'good old' sneer, "reading", drawling it out like it was something foul.
This was probably the closest thing to a chance he had to show her he might possibly actually have some kind of feeling for her. He knew he shouldn't waste it. But of course he would. Even he couldn't stop himself.
Not that he didn't try. His mind ordered him to stop, remember. This was as close as a chance he was going to get with her. He tried not to mess it up like he always did.
He was at a point where he was pleading with himself. That normally wasn't a good sign.
But old habits die hard, and no matter how he tried, from so long shielding himself, the shield wouldn't come down. He couldn't even show her some sympathy. All he could do was lower his sneer slightly and stare back at his shoes.
She was still working on being mad at him, but suddenly, without warning, her face crumpled into a sob, and she fell to the ground once more. Finally he got his face to work, and let whatever sympathy he could show. It wasn't much.
He held a hand out to help her up. She didn't take it.
"What's wrong with you." he muttered, looking away from even his shoes.
She scowled, pulling herself up, to leave his hand dangling uselessly in the stagnant air.
"What was in that letter anyway?" he asked, glancing slightly at her. Bad choice. She scowled, stepping away.
She stared at him, eyes glowing with intensity in the shadowed corridor.
"You know, I just said the stalking thing to make you go away. I mean. I" she looked away, straightening her robes to something resembling orderly. She was tiny underneath, a narrow shouldered frame hidden in bulky robes, at least two sizes too big.
"Just. leave me alone. Go stalk. Padma. "
"Padma?" Draco asked, his left eyebrow steadily rising. "Padma Patil?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"She's." Ethany tried to think of something nice to say about Padma. She could think of a couple of words to call her, touchy, prissy, giggling twit. but she somehow doubted that would make him really want to go out with her.
Finally Ethany came out with, "she's pretty."
"And?" Draco countered, his eyebrow finally risen to about a centimetre below his hairline.
"And what?"
"And what does she have that you don't?"
Ethany's eyes blazed. He hadn't just called her pretty had he?
Draco's eyebrow dropped, his eyes falling back down to his shoes.
"Just go. Leave me alone." She said, staring disconsolately at the floor, the side table, the walls. Anywhere away from him.
"What was in that letter?" too late Draco realized his mistake.
How was he meant to know that if he wasn't watching her?
She stared at him, intense eyes spitting malice.
"You know I just said the stalking thing to make you go away," she said, an ironic smile starting to form, overriding anger.
"Uh-huh" Draco muttered back, resuming staring at his shoes. "Well?"
Ethany looked away again, staring back at the roof. He was busy looking at the floor, so there was nowhere else left to stare blankly.
"Well what?" she replied, trying to sound indifferent, fighting to pretend her hands weren't shaking. This wasn't supposed to be happening.
"Well what was in the letter?"
"And I should tell you because?"
"Because." Draco fought with himself to find a reason that didn't involve him killing her. "I don't know."
"Just." Ethany faded off, knowing what she had to say, and hated the words. "Just go away".
She slowly turned around, feeling every second ticking around her.
Draco sighed. The only way to make her stay was to threaten her life. Right, that would make her like him.
"Tell me."
She smiled ruefully into the dark corridor ahead.
"Or what?"
"I'll. I'll." he couldn't get the words out.
Ethany fought the temptation to turn around.
"I'm not going to tell you!" was her only reply, fading down the corridor. She was nearly at the end.
"Why not!" he shouted back, begging anything he could to stop her.
"Well, I don't want to die!" She replied, finally stopping and turning her head around.
"I won't kill you?" he offered, praying to his shoes she would stop.
She laughed in reply, spinning around, her robes flying out from around her.
"So this is the great evil of Slytherin?" she whispered, the silence, and the corridor drawing the words out around him.
"This isn't my choice. I don't know what you know. Hell, I don't know what I know. But, trust me, running around in a mask killing defenceless people isn't as much fun as it seems"
"And I have so many reasons to trust you" she whispered again, eyes hardened, all playfulness gone.
Draco didn't look up from his shoes. They were far less confusing than she was.
He shook his head, finally staring back at her.
"Fuck this" he whispered into the night air, eyes meeting hers for the second time this long, confusing night.
He turned and walked slowly, controlling every step with far more power than he thought he could ever have.
Ethany sighed, blowing warm air into the stifling corridor.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, not really wanting him to hear. She didn't forgive easily. He didn't even know he had to be forgiven.
"About what?" Draco muttered, more anger than he felt escaping through his words.
She sighed again, wishing this was just over. She hadn't talked to anyone really for about two years, and she wasn't used to it. Anybody watching it would have found the sight hilarious. They were alone.
She stared back at the ground. Draco turned back around, resuming her post of staring at the roof.
He stayed voiceless, stubbornly refusing to forgive her. Why, he didn't know, but he had to. "I don't have a choice." Draco said, finally cutting his own silence. "I don't like most muggles. That doesn't mean I want to run around in a mask murdering them! I am not my father, no matter what he wants to tell himself" he ended with a weary sigh.
She smiled darkly, eyes lingering on the floor. She looked back up at him at the same time he looked down at her. Draco quickly stooped his head back down, coward as always. He wouldn't dare meet her eyes.
She smiled on. Lowly the smile dropped, her eyes matching it, falling to the floor once again.
"Like I have much of a choice," she muttered back to the still air. Draco got the feeling he wasn't supposed to have heard. Things had gotten very quiet. They both seemed very busy with their shoes.
"You know, my shoes are telling me to talk to you. That's a bad sign, right?" he said, taking their advice. The shoes knew far better than he did.
Ethany hesitated. "You talk to your shoes?"
"You don't?"
Again, silence.
"Maybe we should stop staring at our shoes?" he suggested, wondering what else he could say.
She didn't look up. Neither did he. Glancing up he saw her laughing, silently, looking back at him. He just couldn't help it.
The laugh was infectious.
But before long the laugh was gone and they were left back in silence.
"You know, this is the first conversation I've had in like two years and we're not talking", she said, staring back into his eyes. For once he didn't look at his shoes.
"Then talk," he said fighting the urge to look back down at his shoes. At the time, they were a lot easier to talk to than she was. "I suppose you could tell me all about your wonderful problems?" he suggested, glancing back up at her.
Uh-oh. Wrong thing to say.
"If I told you I'd have to kill you," she said, each word cutting the air, her voice toxic with sincerity.
"Then kill me," he said, for once looking straight into her eyes. He so wished he hadn't.
A silent tear crept tentatively down her face, leaving a thin trail of moonlight. She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
"Well?" he asked, expecting anger. But she had none left.
Ethany sighed and shook her head.
"Not here. If someone hears.her words withered in her mouth. "I haven't even told Dumbledore yet."
Draco nodded, wondering where they couldn't be overheard. Somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed. He knew one place. She would never go there.
And even then, his father was probably monitoring his room. Actually, it was more than probable. But. wait. They wouldn't be watching the roofs.
"This'll be really weird, but I think I know a place we won't be overheard."
______________________________
A/N: ok I know the stories strange, and it doesn't really make sense, but please review! Woohoo!!! Just as I was writing this I got 2 reviews!!!! *Explodes with happiness* oops. I exploded again. anyway thanks sooooooooooooooooo much!!!