Take me away...
The thought ran inside his head until he thought he would be crazy.
Go away, you fool, don't just stand there…
The same voice again. He moaned. Why couldn't his father's voice just leave him alone?
I hate you, I always will!
He sat up, ran his fingers through his hair and breathed heavily. The last voice hadn't belonged to his father. It was Ginny's. He sank down on the bed again, reaching for the velvet curtains. He pulled them away and suddenly stared on a stone wall. His dormitory wasn't the nice kind. Cold, draughty, and stone – the three words said it all. He leaned forward, listening. Not a sound. It was too silent for him. He needed sound around him. He got out of bed, and when his feet hit the stone floor, it suddenly occurred to him why it was so silent. It was still night.
He stared without actually seeing on the wall. The cold from the stone floor almost made him shiver; he already had goose bumps on his arms. He stood up, pulled of his pyjama jacket and stood half naked in the silvery moonlight. The goose bumps spread over his upper body, over the shoulders, his back and made every sense stand guard. He shifted position and stretched his arms over his head.
A snoring from one of the other boys scared him half to death. He was so into what he was doing, that his surroundings were dim.
I hate you, I always will!
Ginny's voice rung in his head once again. He leaned towards the wall, felt the cold spread through his chest and radiate out from his body. Outside was it winter; the immense cold was everywhere. He put on a sweater and changed his pyjama trousers for a pair of jeans. He didn't even bother to comb his blonde hair. His grey eyes were tired, he was tired, but he couldn't go to sleep again so he could do something else. He wandered around in the Slytherin common room, but the more time he spent there, the more nervous he became.
He couldn't forget the last time he'd seen Ginny.
Damn it. Why did it have to be this way? The voice he'd heard inside his head was Ginny's, but she had never actually said them. They were just imagination. And he hoped that they never would go any further than that.
He moaned and was halfway back to his bed when he realised that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He sank down the wall and sitting there with his back against the cold stone, he felt an urge to be close to Ginny.
Ginny… he thought, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, he needed to sleep, but he wasn't able to sleep anymore tonight. He stood up, looking at his wristwatch. Ten minutes to five. He yawned, and went back to his dormitory. He took his Potions-essay and sat down in the common room to work with it a little bit more. He was so tired that the letters flew around in front of him, but he couldn't do anything.
A few hours later, his classmates joined him. No one wondered why he sat in the common room doing homework so early in the morning. After a silent breakfast, they had Potions together with the Gryffindors.
Draco met Harry's eyes during one of the tasks Professor Snape had given them. Harry's eyes showed nothing but despite. Suddenly, Draco heard Snape's voice talking.
"Malfoy!" Snape called. Draco looked up, the tiredness making him feel sick.
"Yes, Professor?" he asked tiredly.
"Answer the question, Mr Malfoy", Snape said in a particular nice tone.
"What question, Professor?" Draco said. He could feel the astonished looks from the others.
"The one I just asked", Snape continued, his voice not so very nice now.
"I didn't listen", Draco said.
"No, I've understand that", Snape said coolly. "So then I ask you again. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" There was silence in the dungeon.
"I don't know", Draco murmured.
"Excuse me?" Snape said.
"I – don't – know", Draco repeated, "And I actually don't care."
"Answer my question, Malfoy."
"NO!" Draco suddenly bellowed, and stood up, leaning against the desk. "I said that I didn't know, and I actually don't care about this damned subject! Ask someone else, won't you, what about Hermione Granger or Harry Potter? Just don't ask me, you old git, you're just being selfish and sour because you're our Potions Master and not the teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
A ringing silence followed Draco's voice. He breathed heavily and eyed Snape with despite. If they could have done it without getting detention, the class would have clapped their hands. But now, there was no sound in the classroom except Draco's heavily breathing and the sounds Snape made through his nose.
"So…" the Potions Master finally said. "You're heading for detention, Malfoy. A particular nasty one, for standing up against a teacher." Draco looked angrily at him and spat out:
"As if I care!"
"Twoweeks of detention, starting tonight", Snape said and grinned nastily. My office, eight o'clock, Mr Malfoy." Draco looked down on his own hands, they were trembling with fury.
"Class dismissed", Snape hissed, and the class stormed out of the classroom. Draco took time to get out of the dungeon, and saw Harry waiting for him outside.
"What are you doing here?" Draco hissed at him.
"Nice job in there", Harry replied and ignored Draco's hiss. "What was all that about?"
"I didn't sleep so well tonight." Draco said and suddenly, he dropped one of his books.
"Damn it!" he yelled, and kicked the book so that it flew across the corridor and landed with a soft thud on the stairs. "I'm sick of it, Harry, I'm so sick of it! I have to talk with Ginny, but I can't!"
"Take it easy", Harry said lowly. "There's no use in getting detention for it."
"Shut up!" Draco said. "You don't know what it's like."
"This will be on everybody's lips after lunch, you know", Harry said.
"I don't care."
Everyway you turned that afternoon you could hear a rumour about Draco getting in trouble. The Gryffindors were in a state of shock – had Draco finally realised that the Head of the Slytherin House was a total jerk? The Rawenclaws thought the same as the Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, didn't say much about anything. They were said to celebrate in their common room.