THANK YOU!!! V much. I LUV U!! Not a bad word about it. Wow. Hope I don't disappoint!
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Your mere presence chills all,
You push me away,
Besotted by you;
Still I stay.
---
"Draco!" I shout, running up to him as I caught his attention. His uninterested gaze sweeps over me; transforming into an icy disguise,
"Mudblood," he grimaces; not bothering with my kind,
"Uh..." I search in my head for some, anything, to say, "Potions –" I begin as I see him relent. I see his eyes softening, slowly letting me in.
"Bugger of, Mudblood," sneers Malcolm, interrupting me. Stupid git. He guides Malfoy away from me, I stare after them. His happy façade is up. I see right through it, looking closer I see so does his friend.
Why doesn't he do something about it?
"Hermy!" Ron giggles too foolishly for a seventh year, testing out her new nickname. Harry runs to catch up to us. He yanks my neck towards him, his elbow twisting around it.
Harry's gaze trails to where mine never lifted from. Harry frowns. My new thing; my passion, something not everyone – actually no one – approves of.
"Why are you even bothering?" Harry tries to reason. I close my eyes and sigh; I've been through this before. Why won't he understand?
"He needs me." I answer simply.
Harry tries to chuckle; it was absurd. The prat that has never left us alone for all of seven years decides to and I trail after him none stop because of it? Some things even the famous Harry Potter can't understand.
"I need you," Harry whispers, giving me a crooked smile. Whenever Draco smiles, it was always broken; any attempt to hide it was always transparent to me.
"No; you don't," I push him away, "not as much as he does," I console. The hurt look in his eyes disturbing me.
Harry was the hero. Perfection in its elite form.
---
"I want projects done; you have a fortnight." Snape pauses as he waits for the moans to cease, "I want it two parchments long; on our new topic... inertia prevention or causing potions, along with side-effects and an antidote," he informs the class.
This was going to be easy. It always was; I found it effortless to do any sort of academic work. I look from Ron and Harry, grimacing at the thought of another gruelling assignment, to the silver blonde boy, yawning broadly as if he couldn't care less.
In the corner of my eye, I see Snape eye his favourite pupil worriedly. The signs of concern creased his forehead, making him look older that he probably was.
"Turn to page 189, in your books," he barks, ordering those around him as he studies his favoured student.
"Mr Malfoy," I strain my ears to eavesdrop into the conversation, "I am worried," Snape admits, "You're grades have been slipping and..." Malfoy's interest saps away, "Mr Malfoy!" Snape had to bark, capturing Malfoy's concentration with the rest of the class. "Your attention span seems to be slipping. You'll do well to take care of your problem."
The class erupts from silence to a gossiping whisper. Harry and Ron turn to each other and murmurs maliciously gazing at Malfoy. I shake my head.
"You will be doing this separately." He states loudly to the class, placing an obstacle in our way and stops the spreading of scandal.
---
Inability to move.
Paralysation, I chant softly, scanning the shelves for my desired book. I sigh with defeat. Perhaps they don't have it here. Perhaps.
Immobility, I try again, using a synonym to find a similar result. I refuse to ask the library, though close we are, for help. I have been here for seven years. I will search for and find my own books.
I stalk back to my starting point; searching again if I have missed something. I squint firmly above me just to make sure. I notice an outline of a shadow coming upon me. Someone else must be researching the topic. I absorb myself further, determined to wipe the shelf clear of books.
Aha! I think, and beam with pride as I find the book I was looking for. My height limits me, thought tall I am, I cannot reach. I have not dedicated myself to sports and spend my free time inside. It begins to impact on me. I reach up to the shelf, burning in frustration; far more than before; as I try persistently to reach.
Just a little bit more, I urge myself on, only inches away as I spider my hands in order to reach further up. The shadow I ignored earlier hasn't moved. I notice the figure still standing behind me and sigh with embarrassment. The outline becomes bigger and bigger; nearer and nearer. It stops, inches away from me.
A sleek arm, clad with green, reaches effortlessly and grabs the book. The manicured nails grips the spine, and holds it out for me on the pale hand I dare not look up from.
"Thanks," I mutter, not sure if I should move away. Here is my chance; right here. Was I brave enough to take it?
"Hey, Malfoy, did you need it as well?" I ask; giving him a lop-sided grin I stay true to my house's reputation. I hold the book out, as if offering a truce. Malfoy sighs and looks at me for what seems like forever.
"Sure, why not. I've looked at every other section."
I shift nervously. The proud, vain, conceited and haughty traditional Malfoy agrees. I am unprepared, rather taken aback that he accepts to my offer. Shakily, I set it down on the spare table and checks no one is around the library.
But of course, no one ever is.
He opens the book; I have an uncontrollable urge to inspect his nails. But I resist; I continue to read. Slowly, I turn the page; for a brief moment my hand was so close you might even say it was touching his. The comparison between the two were what I had expected.
As my hand swept up again, even closer this time, he didn't even flinch. His superior attitude seemly melted away.
Slowly; very slowly; he was finally letting someone – me – in.
---
So? Wotduyathink? Hm?