Disclaimer: I don't care what you've heard, I still don't own these characters and the world they live in.
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VISIBLE
Chapter 5
A few days after the infirmary and he's free. Free of the fear that they will find out, that they will see. And it's a strange light feeling.
Everyone's where they're supposed to be, and as he steps into potions from the empty hallway, as he faces carefully blank eyes, the illusion of freedom pops like a bubble.
Now he's even more trapped. Now they know what's behind the cold stare. Blood is in the water.
The day takes forever, before he knows time passed, it's dinner.
A smug hush settles over the students, every eye trained on him and a week ago he would stretch and preen under their attention because that was his role. And a week ago their eyes would be filled with awe, and lust, and fear.
Now he sees the pity, the glee. The fear is still present, but it has traded dance partners, respect for disgust.
Still, he knows his role and plays it. Slytherin prince, ice-cold, perfect. Slytherin house falls into line.
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The next day, the spell has broken. Yesterday, frozen into shock by his appearance, after so dramatically leaving, they let him be. Today, the sharks smell blood.
It's always hands. Reaching, grasping to comfort or for proof. Was it real? Is he--?
He dodges the hands too easily, and the questions of, "How did it?" "How long?" "Who?"
He glosses over the leering stares, tearing past his perfect face to see the monster below.
Hufflepuffs strain to hug, to caress. Warm cowlike eyes offer pity dressed as sympathy and he sneers him away.
A quick tug at his sleeve turns him on a girl. So curious, no harm meant, no harm done, and the words on his lips strike her blind for a week and Snape takes points from Ravenclaw for harassment.
Griffindor house is quiet and he's suspicious. They glare at him, some grin, more honest in their feeling, but he doesn't trust the silence.
Cornering Potter, wand tip to delicate jugular flesh, he demands explanations.
"I told them to leave you alone."
"Why?"
"It's my fault. I mean, not the… you know. But I ripped your cloak. I'm the reason they saw."
He assures Potter that it's not his fault. That, in fact, if it were his fault, Draco would be the first to let him know. Followed by Snape, followed by Slytherin house, followed by the Dark Lord himself, and if he doesn't knock off the "Over-Protective Potter" bullshit and quick, he'll find out exactly which curses the Junior Death Eaters learn.
Things go back to routine after that. Sniping and fighting, and "Ferret" and "Weasel" ring off of cold grey stone, and he calls the Mudblood when he sees it.
Life is truly normal two weeks later when Draco blacks the Weasels eye for him. So maybe he's not watching carefully enough, not seeing close enough.
It's dinner time again.
"Imperio Sanguine Similis."
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Note: Well, here's the next chapter. I have to say, this story is really interesting me right now because I'm only about a chapter ahead of you guys. I have some vague plans, but mostly I just sit down with my notebook, and write whatever comes to mind. I suppose I should be happy it's come out as coherent as it is.
On a personal note, I got carded yesterday. Not for booze or smokes or anything, but for a movie. And no, it wasn't porn. It was actually a DVD of the Dan Ackroyd/Eddie Murphy movie "Trading Places." I love that movie; it's a classic, so when I saw it cheap, I picked it up. It is R-rated, but just for some bad language and Jamie Lee Curtis's breasts.
Now, I realize that I look younger than my age. So, it's not as though it's new, and as it's the week-end and I can dress the way I like, I was much more casual than I am during the week when I have to dress for work. I guess what gets me is that I look like I might be under seventeen. I'm not giving away my age specifically, but I'm older than Frank Iero and younger than Gerard Way, so I'm safely over the age of consent. My co-workers say I should just enjoy it for now, that in ten years I'll really appreciate it, and maybe I will, but for right now, I occasionally have to fight the urge to throw a tantrum to prove I'm an adult.
I like putting my horrendously long Author's Notes at the end so people don't have to carve through them to get to the story, but if you stuck with me this far, Thanks, I needed to vent.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review, it gives me a happy.