Ch. 3: Animal I have Become
"So what if you could see The darker side of me? No one will ever change this animal that I have become"
(Three day's Grace)
Waking up every morning is just as tedious as falling asleep. Jazz had put a silencing charm around her posters so she wouldn't be disturbed, and this tactic landed her in quite the predicament. There was a note next to her bed apologizing profusely and saying that they tried there hardest to wake her up, but could not disable the charm. After hurriedly getting ready, throwing on her clothes, brushing her teeth (not necessarily in that order) Jazz made a dash out the portrait hole and into the empty hallway. She had no clue how to get to her first class. She had double Potions, and all she knew was that they were in the dungeons. She had went in a circle for a good twenty-five minutes before realizing she still had the map from Dumbledore. "Double Potions with Professor Snape." She said into the scroll. For a moment, nothing appeared to happen, but then the parchment became illuminated. Blotches of ink began to creep onto the scroll and began to draw out the directions to the dungeons.
She stopped in front of chained wooden doors. There was two choices. She could show up forty minutes late to class and face the embarrassment, or she could stay in the dungeons and hope she didn't get caught skipping class. The dungeons were cold, wet and dark. She made her choice and knocked on the door. "Enter" a bored voice called out. The heavy doors creaked open and she slowly walked in. "But, But, I want to work with him!" came a shrill voice, screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Ms. Parkinson, I highly advise you take your seat. The class is uneven, and he is of great enough talent to work without a partner for the term. Longbottom on the other hand"
A cluster of snickers following the Professors remark were heard as Jazz ventured further into the classroom.
"Ah, and what do we have here? A late Gryffindor? I'm shocked," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The Slytherins let out an appreciative snicker and studied the new girl, their excitement growing at the new Gryffindor prospect to torment. Jazz stepped into the faint candle light and looked around the class. The shades were pulled half way and candles were flickering in every corner, dimly lighting the class. There were posters on the walls depicting potions accidents, probably there to make students more cautious. She turned to Snape, seeing if he was going to continue. "Dare I ask why you are late Bentley"
"That's your choice to make…Sir"
"Don't be smart Ms. Bentley, you're not fooling anybody here" Snape replied in the same bored tone that he always addresses people. She may have been tired, hungry and confused but she was never the kind of person who let someone walk all over them. Her expression took on a stony glare, and she looked at him pointedly. "So now, will you care to inform me, and the rest of the class, why exactly you are late"
"I woke up late, forgot what day it was and got lost." Condescending laughs came from one half of the room, and she easily put on an indifferent face. She could hide her emotions well on most days, and today was one of them.
Snape whirled to the front of the class, "Ten points from Gryffindor for lateness, and another five for wasting class time with your tiresome excuses. Take a seat by Mr. Malfoy"
Jazz looked up at the many faces of Hogwarts. She had no clue who Snape was talking about, so she just looked at him with the same bored expression he gave her and waited for him to elaborate.
With an exasperated sigh he finally said, "The only student in this room without a partner Bentley, I didn't know they let anyone into Hogwarts these days"
She gripped her wand in her pocket and remembered that assaulting a teacher was punishable by expulsion, so she subconsciously rolled her eyes and sauntered over to her desk. She threw her bag on the floor and took a seat by her partner and stared out the nearest window.
"Seeing as how there is only 30 minutes left of class, you will not be able to finish the potion the class is working on." Snape said looking pointedly at her. "You are to be here after school for detention to complete this potion, don't be late. Make yourself scarce for the rest of the period."
Jazz sank lower into her seat and her eyes wandered around the room. Everyone seemed to be caught up in the assignment, so much so that they didn't notice her staring at them. Her direction shifted to the precarious potions master. She knew who he was, after all she and one other person are the only people besides the Order who knew were his loyalties lied, but of course she never told him that. Snape's game of espionage between the Order and the Death Eaters was highly respected at the institution and his brilliant work in the Dark Arts was studied in the highest regard. Elizabeth told her about him before, but nothing she said fit the contorted character Jazz had experienced. She felt her heart twinge at the thought of Elizabeth and quickly looked away. She quietly laughed to herself when she noticed the obvious affection between Ron and Hermione. She had never been in love, but she could tell that they had something most people would die for. Ron would coyly sneak glances at Hermione, thinking his affectionate looks were gone unnoticed by Hermione. But any outsider could tell that her cheeks developed pink patches every time and she had to stop herself from adding in the wrong ingredient to her perfect potion, twice.
She finally let her eyes rest on the person sitting next to her. Jazz couldn't deny that he was handsome, in a classical, aristocratic way. But something told her that he already knew how attractive he was. He had an air of coldness about him, and she took note that even the teacher held him in high regard. A feat which looked impossible to earn from Snape. He looked as if he had seen too much in his life, too soon. Jazz found her self staring at him in a way she never knew she could. His silvery blonde hair fell into his face as he was stirring the potion, and she noticed his intriguing, cold grey eyes. They held no emotion, no spark within them. If the eyes really are the window into the soul, you could conclude that he had lost his a long time ago.
She's staring at me, Draco resolved while adding a drop of bile into his potion. He noticed that her gaze was on him for over ten minutes and it was beginning to get to him. He had grown accustomed to many girls and Potter staring at him, and although it was bothersome and irritating at times, he never let it get to him. But this girl wasn't mentally undressing him as the others, she was studying him. She was analyzing him and it unnerved him, though he would never show it.
Jazz's mind was daring her to venture further, but she was interrupted by a slow drawl, "Enjoying the view?" Draco asked more as a statement than a question. She had been caught. She would have rathered that the floor swallow her whole than have faced him right then. He was staring at her, seeming like he enjoying making her squirm. What's wrong with me? She didn't know why her wit chose to abandon her at that moment, but she was at a loss for words. To make matters worse, Snape was watching the scene intently waiting to hear her response.
She blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Yeah, Nott's attempt at making wolfsbane is rather amusing, do they let anyone into Hogwarts these days?" Jazz said mocking Snape's attempt at discrediting her earlier. She must have said that a little too loud, because an appreciative laugh came from various corners of the class. Nott already looked like he was in a furious mood, and it wasn't the wisest decision to pick a fight with him. "What did you say?" came his gruffy voice, Jazz resolved to remain silent and challenged him with a glare. "Diffindo", shouted Nott, she barely had time to react. "Protego," she pulled her wand out of her pocket. The guy actually tried to hex me! She knew she shouldn't have ,but she couldn't stop herself, "Expelliarmus!" She thought about the beginning of class and decided he need to be taught a lesson, Furnunculais! "WHAT'S ON MY FACE! And WHAT am I wearing!" came his terrified response, his declaration was met with uncontrollable laughter, with students on the floor trying to contain them selves. Nott had boils on every inch of his face, was wearing a pink leotard, complete with a matching tutu and dangling from the ceiling. Apparently, Professor Snape didn't find it as amusing as Jazz did. Upon realizing that it was a non-verbal spell, Snape turned to Jazz with a callous look and said, "Reverse it now." She didn't have to be told twice, considering she just assaulted a student in his house, he looked like he would punish her to the fullest extent. "Finite incantatem furnunculais", she muttered waving her wand over Nott's body. Nott came tumbling to the ground, back in his school robes and the boils disappearing slowly. "Ms. Bentley, you have just cost your house another thirty points and an extra hour on your detention. I suggest you leave my class, now." His voice was low, but the whole room managed to hear him and went silent. Jazz got her things and slammed the door behind her. She wordlessly made her way to her next class, and for the rest of the day, she avoided any interaction with the Slytherins.
"Morsmodre." A shadowy stream emerged from the tip of the Dark Lord's wand, covering Draco's forearm in a familiar darkness. A searing pain tore through his muscles, he wanted to scream but kept himself from showing any emotion that would lead to death or excruciating torture. The Dark Lord and a circle of prestigious Death Eaters, among them his father, watched with pride as the Dark Mark became emblazoned unto his flesh, a permanent reminder of his betrayal.
"All potions on my desk. You may go." Professor Snape's dreary voice rang trough the classroom, awaking Draco from him memories in a cold sweat. Thoughts of the summer's events haunted him occasionally, especially on days like this when his forearm was burning. Draco swiftly strolled out of the dungeons, his robes flowing after him, he had to get away to think. "Don't forget you're on duty tonight Malfoy!" he heard Granger shout after him.
The chilly weather and slight rain was perfect for him, not many students would come outside and he could be alone. Draco was always a private person, but now his soul deserted him as well, in a dark foreign place. He had become so accustomed to the cold at home, and after the only warmth in his life died…he changed, more willing to do the cruel assignments the Dark Lord would surely have for his favorite Death Eater. His mind strayed to thoughts of his mother, and her untimely death at the hands of her husband. The look on her face when she passed would be with Draco until the day he met his own death. She had looked at him with all the love that was missing the past few years of his life, and what killed him the most was that she had died thinking her pleas to Draco to refuse the Dark Lord had fallen on deaf ears. Sometimes he thought that submitting to the Dark Lord would be easier than trying to fight it, and since the only person in his life who ever supported the latter decision was gone, he didn't know who his loyalties were with. He violently shook his head of the tiresome thoughts and let the rain delicately fall on his face as he looked to the sky. He hated thinking about the past, it would drive him to madness thinking about everything that had gone wrong.
He cleared his mind and thought about his present problem, the lingering pain in his arm. Draco resolved that he would speak with Professor Snape about something that might help the pain, the last thing he needed was to be under suspicion for conspicuously wincing in pain every time the mark burned his flesh. He would go speak with Snape after the potions masters was done with all his classes, and before the numerous detentions Snape handed out to Gryffindors. This wasn't a topic he wanted overheard by anyone.
That's when she became envisioned in his head. She was hardly the most beautiful girl who had ever been in Draco's company, but her exquisite features were nothing to complain about. Jazz Bentley, he whispered in his thoughts. He had silently watched her exchange with Nott, and though he deserved it, he knew she would eventually pay for crossing Nott. She was shorter than him, with beautiful black hair and dark complexion that made her look somewhat exotic. He hadn't noticed any colour in her eyes at first, but that was because she didn't have any. Like her hair, her eyes were pure black. He found himself intrigued and his mind was willing to tirade a bit further when Draco's conscious stepped in. Enough, he mentally scolded himself. But these thoughts weren't as easily forgotten as the previous ones. Draco didn't need a reason to care about something, and decided that one kiss, that would probably end up meaning nothing to him, was sure to get this fleeting emotion out of him. Seeing her after her detention with Snape would be easy, since he already had to monitor the corridors that night. His mind was finally at some sort of ease and he stared out to the open Quidditch field. Draco let his eyes close, his burdened heart open, and sat in silence as he let a short-lived moment of vulnerability consume him before standing up and putting on the all too familiar façade.
Jazz slowly made her way out her detention with Professor Snape ready to face the reality that she was wandless, without the map and a bit on edge. The map had been her fault, she had not brought anything to the detention, forgetting that her detention wasn't going to be served in the same classroom she had finally gotten accustomed to going to. The wand was Snape's fault. The faculty believes that she might have had something to do with the boils that appeared on Pansy Parkinson during lunch. Jazz truthfully denied having anything to do with that, but it was apparently protocol. They would take her wand and perform various spells to determine the last few spells that had left the wand. She was now in a dark, wet dungeon with no wand, and no hope of getting back to the tower. This led to the "on edge" feeling. As Jazz passed the Dungeon doors for the third time, she let out an exasperated sigh. She was lost, she knew it and what was worse was that she felt like some one had been following her. She was hoping it was just paranoia, because she had heard about the "unusual" phenomenon's that happened in the dungeons. As if on cue, she felt the tip of a wand pressed against her back roughly and a dry voice whispered into her ear, "Incarcerous." Suddenly ropes appeared out of the wand and roughly wound Jazz at her wrists and legs, taking special care to double knot itself. She clumsily turned around and fell on her side, she looked at her attackers. It was Nott, Parkinson and two other wizards she did not recognize. Jazz let out a sigh of relief, they weren't capable of any real damage. This act only proved to entice Nott as he raised his voice, "Not the usual response we get, but I'll see to it you learn your lesson harder than the rest." Jazz realized that she was indeed in a compromising position. She was wandless, out numbered by a group of people who would have no problem making her disappear for a few days, and tied up in the most secluded area of the castle where only Slytherins pass. Jazz knew it would be wishful thinking that someone would actually find her.
"What should we use on this one Pansy"
"Oh, I don't know. Something new. How about the one you used on Longbottom last week"
"Recovery is too fast. I want something that will linger for awhile. To get the message across."
Unbeknownst to them, as they continued to banter, Draco watched the scene unfold silently from the darkened corner. He didn't know what was coming over him, why he felt the need to intervene before they had their fun. He was used to them bringing anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross them badly, and usually he would look the other way since he was the only one who patrolled these areas. What startled him was the insuppressible need to defend her, for once in his life, he gave into his impulses.
Jazz looked up at them, starting to get a little frightened. Her anxiety heightened when she realized what curse they deemed worthy enough to use on her, and it by the looks on their faces, it looked like she might be spending a good week in the Infirmary. That's when she noticed his pale features that were contrasted by the shadowy darkness he was enveloped in, he had been watching. She looked directly into his eyes, searching for any indication he might help her. She found nothing, he had the usual infuriating impassive face, like he didn't care about a thing in the world. Jazz rolled onto her back and prepared herself for the vengeful Slytherin's wrath. She concluded that Nott couldn't do any serious harm, and might as well let them have their fun and get them back later. She looked at the stone ceiling and starting counting the numbers across, waiting for them to make a decision. When she got to twenty eight, she stole a glance at Draco. All of their backs were to him, as he approached, and Jazz let out the breathe she had been involuntarily holding. "I apologize for the interruption—" he began to say, unaffected.
"Malfoy! Just in time," Nott began, "Hey Draco", Pansy purred in her best bedroom voice. "Filch is on his way down, the last thing needed is having my beaters suspended for minor misunderstandings like this." Draco lied, narrowly staring in the direction of her figure. "Yeah, Yeah. We're going up now, come on guys."—Nott said sounding disappointed. He turned to Jazz—"Next time"
Draco felt the slightest wave of relief wash over him as they took his lie and believe it. It was quite believable because Filch likes to come down here once in a while.
When the dungeon doors slammed behind the retreating figures, Draco pointed his wand at Jazz and quietly said, "Finite incantatem." The ropes began to loosen, unravel to the ground, and eventually disintegrated into the air. An uneasy silence passed through the room, both figures unaware of what to say or do next. Draco looked at her, at a loss for a plausible explanation. He considered leaving her there, but he couldn't bring himself to desert her. His stomach began to feel an unfamiliar unrest as he looked at her. He wanted to lose control, get lost in the feeling. He wanted to say something, explain what he was feeling, but no sound would escape his lips. So he just stared, his gaze tore through her and she stepped back, unsure of what to do. He did the only thing that made sense at the moment, he went to do what he came here for. Draco stepped forward so she was in between him and the cold dungeon wall. Jazz could feel the cold cement wall behind her, sending chills down her spine and at the same time, the heat radiating from him as his body was pressed up against hers. She couldn't bring herself to look up into his eyes. She weakly held her gaze straight ahead at his collar bone, the intensity caused a surge of electricity pulsate through her body as she straightened her back against the stone wall causing more friction between them. He could sense her apprehension and nervousness, her breathing had become shallow. Draco seized her moment of vulnerability and captured her in a desperate, clumsy kiss.
For a moment, Jazz didn't know how to react. It was her first kiss. She was a bit embarrassed, confused but never felt so blissful before. She thought about how horrible it must be for him, because she didn't know what she was doing. A sudden realization of the throbbing pain in her arms brought her back to reality. As her hands began to lose their feeling, she managed to weakly pull away and breathlessly whisper, "Draco—Draco, you're hurting me." She opened her eyes and looked up at his face, trying to read his expression. Draco's eyes traveled down her arms, sending another chill down her spine, and rested on her lightly bruised wrists that were being gripped by his hands. He let go abruptly and looked away. "I-I'm sor—" he began but quickly cleared his throat and turned his back to Jazz. "Two lefts and a right" were his only words as he swiftly made a move for the chamber doors and disappeared.