Chapter 3: -------

A week had gone by and I found myself wanting more and more to apologize. For, I never saw Malfoy at meal times and he never looked my way in class. I begged for a dirty look here or there. Not that I particularly cared for his well being, I assure you, but it's my crazy conscious that's bothering me.

Of course, I knew better than to assume that Malfoy's anger or depression-whatever it was, was not caused mainly by me. I will not assume the entire responsibility. Now, I'm beginning to wonder how exactly Malfoy's parents were killed. I mean, I read the article, oh yes, but it didn't make much sense. First, they went on about how horrible the death was and suddenly, they made it seem as though it was done…for a good cause.

I knew it had something to do with the Order or…the ministry or someone on our side because…they had remained loyal to Voldemort to the end…and ever after the end of him.

I just wish I knew how to tell Malfoy I was sorry for what I said, but without actually being sorry for what happened.

Eventually, I decided, after Potions, I would speak with him…or try. So, there I sat in Potions, not particularly watching anything or doing what I was supposed to throughout the entire class.

You may wonder why Snape is teaching us again. I, myself, wondered for quite a while as well. He was responsible for the death of Dumbledore, when, of course, Malfoy didn't do it, but that's a story for another time. The question is how could they let him teach us again?

Easy. It was proven that he had acted under orders…or something… (You see, this is what I've been told by members of the order and, obviously, they don't tell me much, so there you have it; "He acted under orders") I do not LIKE him. I do not TRUST him. I do not LISTEN to him, but he is my teacher, so usually to pass the class, the latter is quite important. I just accept that he's there and I can not change that.

At the sound of the bell, I graciously accepted the zero for today's class that I was given, simply because I didn't care what went wrong with my potion. As I've mentioned, it didn't matter at the time being.

Being that Potions was my last class of the day on Fridays, I ran as fast as I could to catch up with Malfoy. Ron and Hermione gave me looks, but I waved them off in the other direction, making up something about needing to speak with Snape.

"Snape's in the classroom…" I heard Ron mutter, but following Hermione to the Common Room anyway.

It was almost like Malfoy knew I was following him because the closer I got to him, the faster he seemed to walk. I had to keep running to keep up with him and his friends, who, by the way, didn't seem fussed by his fast walking.

"Malfoy," I yelled out, he turned so quickly, I tripped and fell at his feet. He sighed, almost condescendingly.

"Now, I know you're not the smartest creature, Potter, but I really thought you had the walking thing down straight." He said shaking his head.

His friends laughed, of course, and thankfully, they were pretty much the only ones there. Everyone else had gone back to their Common Rooms or were simply out of the Hallways.

Malfoy, though, was not done. "Is there a reason you're stalking me?" He threw his hands in the air. "Because…forgive me, I don't remember asking you to come with me."

He crossed his arms over his chests and Pansy sighed, "I have a lot of work to get done, Draco…I'm so sorry." She, once again, sighed dramatically. "I'll wait for you to get back, yes?"

Draco nodded, obviously he didn't notice…or just didn't care about the affection Pansy Parkinson, so obviously through at him. There was one thing I could say right now about Malfoy: He absolutely controlled his friends.

"Well, go with her!" he said to Crabbe and Goyle, as though it should have been obvious. It looked like they were just waiting for the signal because the second he said it, they were gone.

"What do you want?" he asked irritated.

"To…apologize." I said slowly. This wasn't going the way I had planned. Oh, who the hell was I kidding? I never had a plan!

"Apologize?" he repeated. "That so?"

"Y-yes." I had no idea where this…fear came from. Malfoy was someone I had always hated, of course, but fear? No.

He laughed. I wasn't sure if he actually found this situation humorous or…if he simply could not find a better emotion to express.

"Well, you haven't yet, have you? You're absolutely wasting my time, so…"

"I'm sorry, okay? It was…not right to say that…I suppose." I was slowly drowning, really. The words weren't flowing out right and I just didn't know what to say.

"Why?" he asked perplexed. Somehow during my…er…apology, he had inconspicuously slid down the wall, so that he was sitting again it.

"Why the hell are you sorry, Potter, hmm? What, did you…did you kill them?"

That was exactly what I was afraid of.

"I'm not sorry they're dead…I'm sorry that I said…what I did. I'm sorry I said they didn't love you."

He rolled his eyes and stood up again. "I believe the ever famous line was that your parents loved you. It wasn't, 'Damnit, Malfoy, your parents hate you.' Why are you apologizing, Potter? You're really making NO sense. I suppose this is your way of being the "good boy". Am I right?"

"Look, what you said…about my friends…it bothered me."

"Just in case you missed the point, Potter, it was SUPPOSED to."

"Well, that's why I said it and I'm sorry…so, I don't have to feel bad about it anymore because I admitted I was wrong. My conscious is clear." Although, I said it, I didn't feel it. I felt…wrong, still. He seemed to realize what I was thinking because his eyebrows flew further into his hair.

"Then, why…are you still here," he questioned.

"You're…you're unbearable!" I screamed. My god, he was killing me. All I wanted to do was be the… It was just like he said…I didn't care about what I said. I only cared that it made me feel wrong and I wasn't SUPPOSED to feel wrong because I was…good?

My stomach sunk lower still. "I'm not sorry." I said aloud and, damn, did it feel good.

He nodded, "Thought so, now, will you leave?"

"Why the hell don't you?" I said back in equal irritation.

He rolled his eyes skyward, once again, "Because, Potter, your Common Room is in that" he pointed behind my head, "direction." And he began to walk away.

"Wait!" I shouted.

He didn't even turn around.

I didn't care that I looked stupid. I didn't care that I was doing it without reason. I followed him. He must have realized because a second later, he turned around and pushed me to the ground.

I only fell, really, because of the shock. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been able to use his frail fingered hands to push me down.

"What do you want!" he screamed. He didn't even give me a second to respond. "First, you come here and give me some crap about wanting to give me an apology. That spectacular apology basically ended with the words, 'I'm not sorry'. And now…here I am, pleasantly pointing you in the direction of your OWN Common Room, and you're following me. Why? Why!"

I didn't, exactly, know why he was screaming so loudly. All I knew, was that a few more minutes of this would get us into serious trouble. I was going to tell him so when I realized…the hysterical screaming was causing his eyes to water and… Draco Malfoy was about to cry.

If I wasn't so shocked, I would have laughed. Of course, I saw him cry once before; last year in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle, but…not like this. This was serious. It was almost like he was… I really didn't get to finish my though, for he was screaming again and pushed me down as soon as I stood up.

"Did you want to see how far you could push me until my anger started? Or, perhaps, you just wanted to remind me that I'm not worth the air that I breathe! I don't care what anybody says about your modest and humble attitude, Potter. I know better. You may be the Wizarding World hero, but you're still nothing but Potter to me!"

I didn't answer him. How could I answer such passionate questions. Obviously, he wasn't expecting answers, anyway because he began to speak again; this time, in a much quieter voice.

"Don't…don't give me any of your 'I know how it feels' stuff. Because you don't. You don't know, Potter." He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What you've felt…is nothing." Before I realized it, he had been screaming again. And, apparently, I wasn't the only one just noticing.

"Potter, Malfoy, what ARE you doing out here at a time of night like this!" I turned slowly around to face my professor.

"Professor McGonagall…we were just…just talking." I said softly.

She raised one eyebrow in an elegant sort of way and almost smirked, "Indeed? Well, I'm sure the rest of the school did not need to hear this conversation…understand? It is past curfew and, therefore, I suggest you carry on with this conversation tomorrow night in detention."

Malfoy didn't even bother to disguise his groan. "I will inform you of your task and time after transfiguration tomorrow. Be on your way now."

Honestly, this guilt must be getting to me because I see this entire thing as my fault.

I wanted to tell him so. I sighed, "Malfoy,"

"Leave it. I hate detention." And without another word, he was gone.

I almost laughed on my way back to the Common Room muttering, "Oh, really? Because I LOVE it."