Chapter Two
Unwinding

I woke up in a state of panic. My cotton sheets clung to me from the sweat and the humidity in the room. For late August, the weather was unbearable. It was still dark outside, but from my east-facing window, the horizon was starting to turn a dusty blue-gray color. Getting out of bed, I walked to my adjoining bathroom, and turned on the light. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I turned on the cold water and splashed my face. I looked up into the mirror at my reflection. My right cheek was slightly swollen and bruised. Shaking my head I walked out of the bathroom, leaving the light on. I grabbed a knee-length black skirt, a white button-down blouse, and my underwear and bra, and walked back into the bathroom and shut the door.

'I really need to take a nice long shower,' I said to myself. I turned on the water in the shower. Soon, the whole bathroom was steamed up. I quickly got undressed and stepped into the shower. The hot water seemed to loosen my tired, sleepy muscles. It felt good to just relax under the hot streams of water.

I grabbed some shampoo off the ledge and squeezed some of the palm of my hand. The scent of raspberries hit my nose, and seemed more awake than before. I started to massage the shampoo into my scalp, trying my hardest not to get too much the ends. It was hard enough to brush my hair; I didn't need any more tangles. I put my head under the hot water and let the water rinse away the lather on my head. I started to massage my temples and then the rest of my scalp. Soon, there was no more shampoo in my hair.

I picked up the conditioner and opened it. Raspberries again. I put a small amount in my hand and applied it to my length of my hair, careful not to even get near my head. I didn't need to look greasy, just sleek. I twisted my hair up into a bun, grabbed the claw clip from the rail and secured my hair up.

I grabbed the body wash next. That, too, was raspberry. I have a thing for raspberries. It's the only fruit that I ever liked, and I think it had to do with my mother. It was one thing that I remembered about her. She always smelled sweet. As much as I hate thinking about her, I can't help but smelling raspberries to remember her. Shaking my head, I poured some body wash into the palm of my hand. Working it into a rich lather, my mind started to wonder again.

I started thinking about how this was my last year at Hogwarts. 'I have one more year of dating Marcus, then what? Leave my father and run away with Marcus?' I thought to myself.

"That won't be too bad," I answered. I laughed at the thought of my father's reaction if I told him that I was getting out of the house to live with Marcus Malfoy. "He won't like it." I knew that much.

I rinsed the lather off my body and stood under the hot water a little longer. 'Do I really want to live at home after I graduate?' 'Of course not.' 'But you love your father...' 'But I also can't stand him. Knowing him, he probably find a way to criticize me being an Auror.'

"Would you shut up!" I scolded myself. I hated when my 'two sides' would argue. Yes, I have two sides. No, I'm not crazy either. They are my consciences; my father told me that I have inherited that from my mother as well. Seems like everything he doesn't like came from my mother. I took the claw clip out of my hair and rinsed out the conditioner.

I turned the water off and opened the shower curtain. I grabbed one of the two fluffy yellow towels off the hook by the shower and wrapped it around me. I grabbed the other one, flipped my head down, and wrapped it up.

I righted myself and walked to the vanity and turned on the water. I grabbed my toothbrush, put some toothpaste on, and started to brush my teeth and tongue. When I was done, I rinsed out my mouth with some cool water.

I unwrapped the towel, letting it drop to the floor. I started to put on my clothes. I just started to button up my blouse when there was a knock at the bathroom door. There was no doubt that it was my father. Even though a little part of me really wanted it to be Marcus.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Can we talk?" my father responded.

'No, we can't talk. I don't want to talk to you until I'm at your funeral.'

"Sure. Hold on. I need to finish getting dressed," I said. I fastened up the rest of the buttons on my shirt and took my hair out of the towel. Looking in the mirror quickly, I grabbed my hairbrush and walked to the door. I open the door slowly and saw my father standing there in his pajama pants and robe. I turned my head to the right, trying to hide the bruise. "So what do you want to talk about?"

My father looked at me and then at his watch. "It's almost six in the morning. Why are you up this early?"

I looked at him and shrugged, "I couldn't sleep." I walked past him, towards my bed, and sat down. I began brushing my long hair, trying not to look at him, and keeping my cheek out of his sight. I know what will happen if he saw it.

He turned around and walked towards me. I was still gazing down at the floor, and I saw his slippers in front of me. He lifted my chin and turned my head to the left to examine my cheek.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he said, sounding sincere.

'Sure you are. You're never sorry when you hit me.'

"It's okay Dad. I'm fine," I lied.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

'Damn I'm going to hell. How many lies was that now?'

I looked up at him. His eyes were glazed over; I know he's going to cry sometime. I didn't want to witness it. I got up, but he caught my arm.

"Dad, I need to go. You know how this is going to turn out if I stay," I pleaded.

'Hurt. I'll end up hurt again. I don't need that Dad; can't you see? I'm broken enough.'

He only nodded, and let me go. I walked down the stairs to the living room. I grabbed some Floo Powder from the mantle from the fireplace, stepped into it, threw the powder down and said, "Marcus Malfoy, Malfoy Manner."