Let me first of all apologise for the amount of time it took to upload this chapter! I have been so busy with my work! And then can I secondly apologise for the lack of ... Well, talent in this chapter. I really don't like it and am only really adding it to the story because I've took long enough and know that if I don't, I'll never get the next one up! Onto the reviews:
Cmere2: Yay I'm glad I made you feel better. (I know it's been a long time, but is there any chance that you remember what was the original fiction that made you nauseated and sick - it intrigues me!) And yeah, by all means, feel free to bear my children! Can we call one of them Jordan Junior?
Faite: Omg thank you that was such a nice review! Really, it was so nice. Ah, I'm all gushy now! Thank you hun!
PrincessPepper: Haha I so wanted to write that scene in like, chapter five or something but I had to hold out for ages and now thankfully Harry can help Draco ... Right? Well, we'll see. :P
Insidemyworld: Sorry I took so long! Lol, thanks for your review hun!
Malfoy's Kitten: Ah, I feel so mean now lol. Sorry I took so long to update!
And also can I please say thank you to: HPfreakout, ura-hd, ChronoclockXVII, BrokenInside, SOsad, CaramelAriana, Jill4, crzymoon, Jinxx, Euphory, textual healing, Reptilian Goddess, AmethystxX, Caro and BioHazrdusMatrial3! Thank you for all your reviews guys and gals!
And in case any of you have forgotten how the last chapter ended (And I know I did!) here's the last part of chapter ten:
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
And I don't need your reasons
He took off my hat slowly and I felt his fingers stroke the few strands of hair on my head delicately. I cried harder, knowing that I was loved and didn't deserve it. I thought back to all the times I had been horrible to Potter and sobbed uncontrollably. He didn't react for a few minutes, just therapeutically stroking my scalp. He then cupped my chin and forced me to look up at him. His eyes were red too, but there was strength in them whereas I looked through eyes of failure and weakness.
"When did it happen?"
I gave an embittered laugh and looked down to the floor. "You mean when did I turn into an ugly cunt with no hair that bruises and bleeds a lot?"
Potter gave a low, sharp gasp at this and I looked up at him again. His face was a picture of disbelief.
"Malfoy ..." he began in a choked voice that implied that I'd really offended him with what I said. I just knew why he was so hurt and didn't want to hear what came next.
Don't tell me cos it hurts.
"...You're beautiful."
It's funny how when you go through a year nothing seems to change but when you look back everything is different
Dearest Draco,
To say that we are appalled would be an understatement. We are absolutely livid that you are sharing a school with someone that is suffering from that dirty muggle disease.
I couldn't bear to look it up myself so I ordered one of the house elves to find information on this leukaemia infection. It is not contagious, so you mustn't worry too much darling, but be sure not to associate yourself with that person. It will not taint your blood but it will certainly taint our name. Your father is furious and is planning to write a strongly-worded letter to Dumbledore about the type of riff-raff that he is welcoming with open arms to the school. Disgusting.
Your father also sends his praise over the initiative you are showing. Taking the mark on the eve of your birthday is a most excellent idea and the dark lord thinks so too.
Proud of you darling. Keep up the good work.
Love always,
Mother.
I calmly reread the letter twice and then placed it down onto the table with a slightly shaking hand. It contained everything I thought it would. No surprises there. Nothing that wasn't expected.
My eyes scanned over the words written in my mothers looping calligraphy. Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint. I snatched the letter from the table and read it again, the words jumping out and taunting me.
Why was this such a letdown? I expected this. It didn't come as any real shock. I prepared for the worst and this was it. My family honoured their name more than their son. I knew that already.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
I was going to die.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
And they weren't going to care.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
As I prepared to die.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
They prepared to not care.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
And I already knew that. I nodded my head slowly as my mind absorbed my mothers words. They were beginning to look like swirling patterns of nothingness, they had lost all their meaning.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
Or maybe I had just lost all feeling.
I was numb.
I let out a deafening roar that made my throat hurt but I didn't care as angry tears welled up in my eyes and I ripped the letter into tiny pieces, destroying every part of my family with it. My frustration was expressed through hurt, angry cries of defeat and desperation, as the torn up letter fluttered to the floor in bits. I stamped on them for good measure. I wiped my tears away roughly with the sleeve of my robes. It hurt. I did it again, dragging the fabric against my skin roughly so sore, red blotches appeared on my cheeks. I yanked off my hat and stared in the mirror with hatred. I clawed at my scalp with the ferocity of a cat, digging my nails in and dragging them down my skull. There'd be scars there later. I did it again even harder with this thought. It hurt so much I let out a fresh flurry of tears while pathetic sobs caught in my throat. I swiped at my face with more hatred while my reflection in the mirror did the same. I clenched my teeth and I watched my counterpart do the same. Our heads were shaking with fury identically. Our fists were bunching up in the same way. And we both punched the mirror letting out all our frustrations at the same time. It shattered into a million pieces, shards of glass falling beside the remains of the letter. I picked up a large shard of glass roughly and squeezed it into my palm hard. I let out a yelp as I quickly dropped it to the floor. It shocked me at how much it actually hurt. Nursing my hand, I watched in fascination as blood started to spill out from the deep wound in my palm. I sank to my knees surrounded by the glass and continued to watch as the blood, the leukaemia-ridden blood seeped from my palm and through my fingers. I wasn't numb at all. I could feel pain. Droplets of bloods dripped onto my carpet and I watched it stain the floor just like it had stained me. Large crimson drops fell onto pieces of the letter and I watched as it drenched the words that my mother had written with such disgust.
Dirty. Disease. Infection. Taint.
"Hey," he said softly.
I turned around, startled. I thought I was alone by the tree, observing the majestic building of Hogwarts with mild interest, but now he was here with me.
"Hello," I replied back uncomfortably.
He sat down cross legged next to me and watched as a first years flying lesson took place in the distance. "Only seems like yesterday that that was us," he said. He turned to me and broke into a grin, the smile lighting up his whole face, crinkling his magnificent eyes and draining away all the worry that the boy who lived carried on his shoulders.
"Yeah," I mumbled back. I felt so uncomfortable. I didn't know what to say to Potter. Yesterday he'd told me I was beautiful, how was I supposed to react to that? The boy who I had fucking hated for so long told me that I was beautiful. Did he expect me to fall into his open arms and tell him I thought he was too? No fucking way. I hated him for so long. I hated him. No, I hate him. I still do.
"Draco ... I was just, er ... Well, I was thinking that er ... See, I had this thought and -"
"Spit it out Potter," I snapped. I knew what he was going to say and I didn't want him to say it. I wanted to shut his fat mouth before any of the words could come out and hit me in the face. He knew. He fucking knew my secret and I hated him and I hated myself and I hated everyone for it. I'd exposed myself by crying and let him console me. I never cried in front of anyone. Malfoy's never cry.
"Well it's just that -"
Shut up.
"- I was reading up on -"
Shut up.
"Leukaemia and it says that -"
Shut the fuck up.
"- You may suffer from loss of appetite -"
Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up just shut up shut up shut up.
" - Night sweats, excessive bleeding and bruising and -"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP."
Potter flinched as my words hit him at full force. I felt a twinge of satisfaction at seeing the fear in his eyes.
"I know what the fuck I suffer from Potter," I spat at him. "Do you know how I know? Do you know how the hell I know? From these." I rolled up my sleeve and thrust the ugly purplish bruises in his face. "Look Potter, look! You're getting a first hand look at the ugly fucking freak show here, better pay attention."
"Draco, stop -"
"SHUT UP," I yelled. I thrust my palm into his face, noticing with pleasure the way his head dodged to the side as he thought I was going to hit him. "Look Potter, infected blood. See the wound? This is what we sufferers get. Better not get too close! You might suffer from the disease and fucking die like me."
"I'm just worried -"
"Well don't be!"
"But I am!"
"WELL DON'T BE!"
"I can't help it!"
"Just go away and leave me alone."
"Draco, I'm just -"
"What is it with you and poking your nose into my fucking business?" I roared.
"I'm only trying to help," he cried shrilly.
"Help? HELP? I don't fucking need your help alright? Brave little golden boy Potter. Always save the day don't you? Well guess what Potter? This is one solution you wont be able to solve. Does that come as a shock to you? Huh? You can't even ask your precious fucking Dumbledore for help out of this one. I'm not going to get any better. I. Am. Going. To. Die. Get that through your fucking head. Not even that scar, that fucking thing on your head that's plagued me for so long can save me. That thing that has held me back so much. That fucking thing is the reason that my father fucking hates me and compares me to all the time. Not even that will save me Potter. So instead of coming up to me and acting like a pathetic bastard who has nothing better to do than save the day and be a hero and show off like you do all the time, why don't you go fuck yourself or your little weasel and mudblood friend and leave me the hell alone because I FUCKING HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH."
You could have cut the tension with a knife. And if there was a knife to cut the tension with I would have gladly took it and slit my own throat with it. Someone had shown me affection. Someone had tried to help. Someone had tried to break the barriers and connect with the real me. And as usual I had just let them go. I was so fucking stupid.
I was almost afraid to look at Potter now. I thought he might be angry and hit me which would hurt. I thought he might be in floods of tears which would hurt even more. But as I slowly raised my eyes from their downcast position on the floor, I was met with a wounded, numb look. I sneered openly at him and inclined my head back towards the flying lesson pretending to be interested in it.
He didn't move for a while. I could feel his slightly confused gaze boring into me but I didn't move a muscle. Finally, he slowly got up to his feet and walked away. I watched him walk into the distance, his head drooped low, his feet shuffling, his hands in his pockets and it took everything inside of me to not burst into tears right there and then. Instead I sank back against the solid trunk of the tree and let my tensed body relax. I stayed like that for a while, the scene that just took place running through my mind. I tried my hardest to forget about it, but I couldn't.
I felt a small tickling on the back of my hand and I looked down to see what it was. A small, insignificant spider was crawling as fast as it could from my hand trying to escape from my infected skin. I watched in mild fascination as it got to the end of my hand, stopped warily before running back the other way and finding itself stuck. I felt satisfied as I saw the puny thing unable to do anything, unable to get to its destination knowing that I had power over its pathetic life. And then I felt a sickening feeling wash over me. At once I lowered my hand to the ground gently and watched as the spider stepped from me onto a blade of grass. I folded my arms and expected it to run as far away from me as it could, but it didn't. Instead, it hung around, those eight little legs working fast. After a while I saw a tiny thread of white and realizing that it was spinning a web.
As I watched it weaving its delicate threads, the image of Katy popped into my mind. I could see her clearly, yet I wasn't noticing her appearance. I could just see the things that made her who she was. She's strong, courageous, funny, bright, cheerful, attributes that anyone would want for themselves. I used to think that those sorts of emotions were worthless and for the weak, but Katy is anything but. And then there was her family too. Her mother, fighting so hard to keeping it all together yet becoming more broken every time I see her, and the same with Jake. They were both struggling to be strong for Katy yet they were terrified inside. And so was I. And not just for myself, for her too. I was actually petrified at the thought of this evilness killing Katy, she's just a child - she's barely had a chance to live. And then there were people like my parents who deserved it -
I gasped at the words that had infiltrated my mind. There were people like my parents who deserved it? Did I truly think that? They had raised me all their lives and now I wanted them to be killed off by a muggle's disease? After all they'd done?
But what had they done, really? Nothing, except for raising me into an arrogant, selfish, materialistic hateful bastard. They'd taught me all the things that were wrong in life and I hated them for it. But they didn't deserve leukaemia. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
And then Potter's face drifted into my mind. My sworn enemy turned caring acquaintance. The situation between us had been thrown completely off balance and I didn't know where I now stood. Do I carry on hating him? Do I open myself up to him? Could I open myself up to him? This was Potter - Harry Potter - I was talking about. I used to be unable to look at him without feeling barely-controllable bouts of rage and now I was thinking of opening up to him? It was just all too much, too fast. It was becoming messy and complicated, like a ... like a ...
I looked down and saw the shimmering web, with the spider nesting below it. It ran through several blades of grass, perfectly complicated and intricately woven. It's tangled mess was organized and I smiled fondly, in spite of the confusion I was feeling.
... Like a spiders web.
"Malfoy - Professor Dumbledore wants to see you right away."
All heads turned towards me as the messenger left the Slytherin common room and I scowled back at the inquisitive faces before getting up from my seat slowly and making my way towards the exit.
"Well, well, well, Draco's been summoned to the great head?" Pansy mused loudly. "I wonder what splendid deed he performed to be allowed such a privilege?"
"Shut it Parkinson," I snapped irritably. She snickered in reply.
"Have fun," she yelled sarcastically as I clambered through the hole into the dank corridor. What the hell did old Dumbledore want with me? I hadn't done anything wrong lately - besides, he'd never called me up to see him before, even when I had been making trouble, so why start now?
I stopped in my tracks, my shoulders stiffening. I could murder Potter. Harry fucking Potter cannot mind his own business. I stormed towards the entrance to Dumbledore's office with new found energy fuelled by rage. I knew what this was about, all right. Blabbermouth Potter couldn't keep it quiet and had gone and squealed to Dumbledore.
Bet they had a right good laugh over me, I fumed, marching over to the stone statue that guarded the entrance. I waited there for a couple of seconds expecting the thing to move, but it stayed rooted to the spot, gazing down at me. I tapped my foot impatiently and then with an irritated sigh, pushed as hard as I could on the statue.
It roared in anger and I stumbled back in fright. It didn't move, however, and my heavy breathing grew more relaxed. How the fucking hell was I meant to get into his office if it was guarded by unfriendly stone figures? I decided to walk back up to it and knock on its chest politely. It gave another deafening roar and I shrunk back away from it again.
"Mr. Malfoy, could I please ask you to refrain from taunting the stone figurines?" came a sharp voice from behind me. I spun around and was greeted by old McGonagall. "One day they might find reason to believe you are attacking them and I'm afraid that the school cannot guarantee that you will escape with all your limbs intact."
I gave her a poisonous sneer. "I've got to see Dumbledore actually."
"Professor Dumbledore, you mean?"
"Yeah, him."
She gave me a sharp look and I wondered whether I'd pushed my luck too far. She seemed to be debating that too, before deciding to take the high road. In a clear voice she said, "rhubarb candies." The horrible statue at once turned polite and moved out of the way. Without saying my thanks, I shoved my way past her and the statue and walked up the stairs, before realizing that they moved on their own anyway.
I soon came face to face with an oak door that swung open importantly when I arrived. Walking into the office, I couldn't help but gaze around in awe. Hundreds of little trinkets adorned the place. Some were marching up and down the shelves, some were flying around the room, some were even appearing and disappearing whenever they felt like it.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy."
I spun around like I'd been caught out. "P-Professor," I stumbled. He smiled a creased smile and indicated me towards the seat opposite the desk at where he sat. I flopped into the chair and stare at him defiantly. He didn't say anything for a while and just stared at me. I started to grow uncomfortable and related the experience to when I sat in the doctors office. Dumbledore's eyes flickered for a moment and I hastily put the thought out of my mind. I wouldn't put it past him to be reading my thoughts at that very moment.
"So ..." He trailed off and gave me a small smile.
"So, what?" I replied dully.
"Is there anything on your mind, Mr. Malfoy?"
"No," I lied, "there isn't."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," I spat. "Why does everyone always ask me that?"
"Because sometimes facial expressions simply aren't very good liars."
I shifted in my seat.
"And sometimes," he continued, "it is obvious when something is playing upon one's mind. So much so that you don't even need to look at the face. A slight shake in the voice, perhaps. Maybe a slight tremble in the hand ..."
I squeezed my hands in between my thighs and clenched hard to will them to stop trembling. Stupid fucking Dumbledore was always right.
"Mr. Malfoy, I know -"
"Just stop," I said suddenly. He obeyed abruptly.
"Look, I know what you're about to say and I know that you know that I know what you're about to say, but I don't want to hear it."
"But I can -"
"Just shut up!" I yelled angrily. "I can deal with this on my own. And lets face it, one less Slytherin in your care wouldn't be that much of a bad thing now for you now, would it?"
"You really think I feel this way?" he said calmly.
"Yeah," I muttered venomously.
He sighed deeply. "Fine," he replied.
"Fine," I hit back. "Is that all you wanted?"
He gave the briefest of nods.
"Good," I spat. I got up from my seat. "Because you wouldn't have really helped me anyway, would you? Huh?" I made my way over to the door. "You want me to die because of my background, don't you?"
He didn't reply which infuriated me more.
"See! You're just sitting there watching me with that stupid expression on your face. You don't even care about me, do you? I could fucking die right now and you'd just probably laugh." I swung open the oak door and flung myself out of it. I waited until I heard the heavy slam from behind me before I allowed the tears to flow.
Ack I don't care what anybody says, this chapter sucks, especially the ending. I actually wrote the first and second half three weeks apart from each other as I've been bogged down with work. I always knew this was going to be quite crappy, because nothing really happens in this one except for a lot of dialogue. I'm pleased I've got it out of the way though because the rest of the chapters all have exciting things happen in them which I'm looking forward to writing! Anyway, please review and once again I'm so sorry about the amount of time it took to upload this chapter! I only hope the next one will be quicker (but I'm not promising! And go read my other fic, Seven, people! I like it better than this one! Take care my lovelies, love Jords x