Author's note: Thanks to all the reviewers. This is a fast update because I already wrote the first few chapters to this, and it seems that I am much too impatient to wait another few days.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Unhinged: Chapter 2
To deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.
- Oscar Wilde
"What have you and your sick friends done to him?" There was only quietude that met me after my shrill cry faded. I took his silence to be a panicked one—that he had been caught, and was looking for an easy way of confession. I stared blankly back at his expression of bewilderment.
"You think I did this?"
"Who else?" I scoffed.
"I didn't."
"Listen, don't bother lying, Malfoy—"
"I'm not lying!" I looked at him, startled into brief silence by how incensed he sounded.
"You think you bloody know so much about what you've just seen, don't you?"
"My eyes don't lie," I said arrogantly.
"Shut up, will you?" Malfoy said, his expression still beyond angry. "Believe me when I insist that you've no idea about what's been going on."
"Well, I should think I have some idea—"
"No," he repeated, his voice low and firm. "You don't. Just shut up and go home, Weasley. It'll be the wisest thing you've done today and we both know that we could use a little wisdom around here."
At his biting and unsympathetic words, I clenched my fists-but no retort came from my part. No insults, no demeaning thoughts, no harsh accusations came to mind. I realized that all I wanted to do was think about things on my own for the moment. I turned sharply on my heel and rushed down the hallways and up the stairs. Though the dank smell of the dungeons eventually left me, the images of Ron and Pansy did not.
Harry was the one to find me as I wandered, quite lost.
"Gin!" he called. "Where've you been?"
"Sorry," I said breathlessly. He had startled me. "I—I guess I don't know this castle as well as I should. I got a little lost." I hadn't meant to lie to them—in fact, I had planned out how I would break the news of Ron's location to Harry and Hermione. I had even taken the liberty of imagining the look on their faces. But now that the moment had come, the untruth came out flawlessly, without second thought. Inwardly, I flushed at the knowledge that I was such an accomplished liar.
"Any news of Ron, then?"
"Er—no," I said quickly. "Nothing." I averted my gaze as Harry's face crumpled in disappointment.
"We couldn't find him either," he said dejectedly. "Do you expect we should go to a professor?"
"No!" I exclaimed. Perhaps a little too eagerly. But who would ever guess what I knew? Not Harry. Hermione was looking at me curiously now. The girl was far too perceptive for anyone's good.
"Alright then," Harry said tiredly. "I suppose we'll give it a few more hours. If he's not back by lunch…."
"Then we'll definitely tell someone," I assured him. Seemingly satisfied with this idea, the three of us parted, heading to our morning classes.
Malfoy approached me before long. I wondered dazedly as he pushed me into a secluded corner, if we were going to be meeting more often. One could say that I had been expecting a confrontation from him. I was expecting him to cough up his secrets, to tell me how the Slytherins had managed this great, sick feat. I was fully prepared for an explanation to end all this nonsense.
"Have you told anyone?" he asked rigidly.
"Of what?" I said cheekily, still affronted with how rude he had been earlier.
"I think you'll excuse me if I say that I'm not in the mood for verbal games," he said as he raised a brow.
"No, I haven't told anyone, " I said bitterly.
"Good girl," he said, and he looked visibly relieved. "Keep it a secret."
"Why? Don't want anyone else to know about your sick joke—""
"For the very last time, this is not a joke," he growled. His eyes were wide and shining with impatience. "If it were, I would not waste my time talking to you." I did not back down.
"Do you expect me to think that my own brother would do something so thoughtless and irrational? You think he'd willingly go near her?" I blinked, and realized that tears were beginning to form in my eyes. Draco shifted uncomfortably, at a loss of what to do with a crying girl. Crying easily was a trait that I had never been too proud of-I didn't mean to cry, nor did I feel like crying, but the tears always come at the slightest strain or stress.
"Yes," he said finally. "Yes, that is what I expect you to believe. Because it's the truth, Weasley, whether you like it or not."
"You're full of it. Mental," I said, wiping my tears and attempting to move past him at the same time. He moved with me, blocking me with his body. "Let me go."
"No. Your presence in the dungeons earlier today means we have something we must talk about—I'm not about to let you run off."
"I've nothing to discuss with the likes of you. Nothing you can say will change what I know I saw."
"Bloody hell, you are a stubborn brat," he began, but I cut him off by pushing against him and finally managing to squeeze past his tall frame.
"Look. Just tell me how you did it—how the others did it. Put things right, Malfoy, because this isn't funny. It may have seemed like it to you, but it's not. It's sick and insulting—and it's crossing the line. That's all we have to discuss." With a slightly rueful expression, I backed away from him.
"Right!" he called out at me, sounding infuriated. "What do I care if my girlfriend has betrayed me for your ass of a brother? Why the hell should I give a damn, Weasley? Ever thought of it that way?"
I ignored his anguished yells and continued to walk. When I heard his footsteps trail me, I picked up my pace. He caught up to me anyway, his hand reaching my shoulder and twirling me around.
"Will you leave me be?" I asked venomously.
"I suppose I'll have to show you the hard way, Weasley," he said and there was a slightly exasperated sigh to his statement. He yanked my arm and began a fast-paced walk towards the dungeons once again.
"For the last time, Malfoy—let go of my arm!" I screeched.
"No." He remained adamant to lead me somewhere. It looked likely that this somewhere would be the secret room that I had originally seen Ron in.
A few minutes later, I realized that my guess had been right. Tracing his hand over the surface of the wall, he seemed to recognize a particular spot as the opening of the chameleon door. He pressed gently against it, and the outline of an entrance slowly appeared.
"How…?"
"Later," he said curtly. "And stay silent." Taking my arm once more, he quietly and gently led me down a couple of stairs, so that we were far enough to see who was in the room. As I saw two familiar figures in a not-so familiar embrace, my mind grew dizzy.
"…I suppose Potter had a fit over your temporary disappearance." Pansy's cool voice rose to reach our ears. I made a small groan of disgust. In answer, Malfoy pressed himself against me to remind me that remaining hidden was imperative.
"He was a bit upset, yea." I heard Ron answer. "I don't entirely blame him. I…shouldn't have done what I'd done, Pansy."
"For heaven's sake, Weasley—when are you going to stop acting like what we're doing is a crime?" Ron was quiet. Pansy let him bask in his solitude only for a moment, however.
"Forget it," Pansy said, and she sounded deflated. The pompous Slytherin herself, brought down by my brother. It was unnerving.
"If you're not comfortable with me—with us, then we should end it. Pity it had to be so soon, I admit, but that can't be helped. I asked you if you were sure about this before I let you have me last night. Obviously you weren't."
"Pansy—no," Ron protested strongly. He rose to make his point. "It certainly is not over, whatever we have right now. But can't you feel the least bit sympathetic to the position I am in right now? Can't you understand how utterly wrong I feel? I have never doubted my feelings like this—ever!"
"Oh, because it's simply too easy for me, isn't it? If the knowledge evaded you the first time, I'll remind you again—I'm the cheating whore here, the one who already had a lover boy. I don't particularly feel like whoring around if the other party isn't willing."
"I am willing." I saw Pansy's grim face relax into a small smirk.
"Then kiss me." I closed my eyes. I desperately hoped for a cry of outrage from my brother. I prayed for him to refuse and leave. But none of those things happened. I could only hear the sound of their passion.
"Pansy," Ron moaned quietly.
"Hmm?" She murmured against his lips. I turned away, but found Malfoy's hands turn my face around again.
"I lied. I don't doubt this," said Ron.
"I'm sorry," I admitted with humility. At least I was woman enough to do so. But I hoped it would be the last time I would have to apologize to Malfoy, since I seemed to be doing it a lot these days. "I'm sorry I thought it was a prank, a farce. But you must under—" I faltered. 'Understand' didn't quite seem like the right word.
"Don't." I looked up and saw Malfoy staring at the secret door. "I don't need your apologies."
"This is quite a surprise to me," I mumbled. "I just can't believe that Ron would…" I stopped myself. I had to watch what I was saying. Every inch of my body might have felt horror at the idea, but I had to at least make an attempt to keep an open mind. It would be what a good person would do—what a good sister would do—not jump to conclusions.
"Well. It's just—I don't know." I stumbled for words that I could not think of. Draco did not act empathic to my frazzled state of being. Instead, he continued to look frustrated and hurried.
"The only question worth answering is how badly you want them separated," he said frankly. My eyes fluttered.
"What?"
"Do you want them broken apart or not? Ended? Have things back to normal?" he demanded. Obviously, he was not one to beat around the bush.
"It's not really any of our business, is it?" I said, trying to find the voice of reason when it had just about deserted me. It was a weak attempt at being noble. "It's Ron's choice who to love." Draco let out an animalistic sound that made me jump back.
"Bloody hell," he muttered darkly. "Stop acting so bloody…Gryffindor. I know it makes you want to launch yourself at him for being so ridiculously foolish. And it's not love, what they have. Lust, maybe."
"It's merely unconventional, that's all, really—" I said feebly, but I knew he was winning. He knew it too.
"Actually, it's more than unconventional—it's threatening. You wonder if it has to be this way at all. You wonder if you can't do something to prevent it, so that you can have your brother back, and I can have my Pansy and all four of us can go back to our respective sides. Both of us are the type of people that enjoy having things the way they were. Isn't that what you want?"
"I—I can't do that," I stuttered. "I can't do what you're asking. To intentionally hope for his relationship with Pansy to go awry? I could never do that to my brother."
"You're not doing him any wrong," Malfoy said coaxingly, changing his tactics in the blink of an eye. He rested a hand on my shoulder and appeared to be sympathetic to my warring emotions. "The only thing you're doing is good—unless you're ready to call him and Pansy good. I'm not about to let the two of them ruin the nice house relations we had going. Besides, I'm not asking you to make it go 'awry' as you put it. Only give it a push in the right direction."
"But—"
"It's for the greater good. They're being selfish."
"I—"
My face fell into a serious frown as I thought over what Malfoy had just said. Oh—why was he so convincing? In the very corner of my mind I wondered if Malfoy knew hypnosis, because I suddenly forgot why I shouldn't like his idea.
"Okay."
Draco's taut face stretched into a smile. It was not a nice smile, nor was it a particularly malicious one. It was simply determined. Very determined.
"Good girl," he said softly, as if I were a pet or play thing who had given the right answer to a call. Shivering, from both the cold and Malfoy, I stepped away and slowly made my way to my dormitory.
And that single sign of resignation—the tiny, miniscule, two-syllable word was all it took to start a chain of events that were unrivaled by anything I had ever experienced.
