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A/N: Once again, I am very disappointed with my reviews… :( Please, make me happy :) I don't want to be wasting my time here, right?
"Harry James Potter, where were you last night?" Hermione interrogated as soon as I came down to the Common Room.
I rolled my eyes. I have detention. I STILL feel incredibly guilty, considering my apology didn't exactly work. And now, I have to deal with Hermione Granger; private investigator.
"I've already received my awaiting punishment, Hermione. I have detention tonight with Draco Malfoy. Could you just….leave it?" I begged.
Hermione's eyes softened and she sighed. "Harry, you had a rough summer. I understand, but this guilt…this guilt you've been feeling for Malfoy. It's not taking you anywhere. You did nothing wrong."
"Hermione," I did not need therapy at the moment. I really couldn't take it. "Don't start, okay? I was cruel to him…it's stupid, I realize, to feel bad for someone who has made my life miserable, but I was cruel and stupid. I freaked out and…here's the thing, why do I want him to forgive me for what I said? It's not like afterwards, I want a friendship. Why does it matter?" I wondered aloud.
I knew I was giving Hermione fuel for the fire. She could easily turn this into some mental disorder of mine if she wanted to. She tilted her head to one side, thinking. She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled slightly.
"Harry, you are wonderful." I laughed. "Wait, listen," she started again, "You are amazing and what you did for the Wizarding World…you will never be forgotten, you understand? Destroying all the Horcruxes and Voldemort in one summer…well, of course, the duration was a little longer than that, but my point is that you are wonderful for all this. Maybe…this guilt is directed at Malfoy because it's…well, you feel it's your responsibility for what happened to his parents. Could that be it?" she wondered.
I shook my head. "Hermione…I--I don't care what Malfoy thinks of me, at least, not really. I just…okay, as horrible as this may sound, I want to prove to him that I'm not happy about what happened because I'm not like him. I need to prove to him that I am not like him."
Hermione wasn't convinced, though. "Harry, come on, you know that's not it. I mean, Draco Malfoy doesn't need you to insist that you're not like him. He would be insulted if you believed you two were even remotely similar." She sighed slowly. "I would really like to know what is going on in your head, Harry. I would really like to be of some assistance"
"But, you can't." I said without a moment's hesitation. "You can't because this is something I need to figure out on my own. I am…feeling guilty. Not for this; I did not kill his parents, even if I am the reason they're dead, I do not feel guilty for that. Hermione, my main problem here is that I can say to you straight out that I hate Malfoy…and I do not care if he hates me, but he can't for this. He can't hate me unless he's hating what I really am. I will not have Malfoy hating me because I was cruel to him….cruelty is his game, not mine."
With that said, I felt extremely satisfied. Although, I was still confused.
"Harry, I…I know this isn't relevant…but, I kind of overheard Seamus talking and my emotions got the best of me." I had no idea what she was talking about and it must have shown because she quickly went on. "You are going to go with Seamus next weekend to Hogsmeade. As a date."
"Hermione! I…I can't do that! Seamus…wait, Seamus…since when does he…?" I was beyond confused. I couldn't go on a date with Seamus. It would be…beyond weird. Okay, I liked Seamus. He was alright…as a friend, and he wasn't awful to be seen with on a date; absolutely not. But…I'd known him so long as a boy who slept in my dormitory! And…besides that, how could she do this behind my back?
"I'm sorry, Harry, but the opportunity was there and I decided to take it. I hope you're not angry," she said softly.
I sighed. "No, not really, but please, Hermione, don't do this again. Not without my permission….can we agree on that?"
She nodded quickly. "Of course, but…this could be good for you, you know? Your first date with a guy. At least it's someone you can…most likely, trust, right?"
I had to admit she was right. I mean, it was better than thinking of my first….real date be with some stranger. Besides, if the date didn't go well, I would just tell Seamus that friendship is all I want with him. Done. Over. Easy. And, hey, I had an entire week to prepare for it. It would be fine.
Transfiguration was killer. The coming detention seemed to have brought Malfoy back to his old self and he was glaring at me at every chance he got. Seamus, my partner on the assignment that I was desperately trying to concentrate on, was barely even looking at even the whole class; which was weird, considering he usually never was without a word for me.
At the end of the day, five in the evening, to be exact, I headed down to McGonagall's classroom for my detention. I had to say I was more than a bit apprehensive. I hoped she didn't keep us for so long because I had plenty of work to get done and still hadn't arranged all the things that went along with Quidditch.
Thankfully, she was not going to be sitting with us during detention. We were given several tasks that had to be done, and once they were, we were, we would wait for her to come back and tell us that we were free to go.
When I arrived, I saw that Malfoy was already there leaning on the door. "Took you long enough, Potter. I was not going to start without you." He said softly and turned to walk into the room. I followed him.
"She's left already?" I asked confused.
He raised an eyebrow and pretended to search the room. "Isn't it obvious?"
I rolled my eyes, definitely not in the mood for his sarcasm. "Well….let's get started, then."
We had decided that I would be doing the alphabetizing, while he was doing the filing. Easy enough, I figured.
We had been there nearly an hour before I decided to speak up. "It's really warm in here." Okay, maybe not the most interesting of topics, but it was way too quiet, really. I had to break the tension.
He looked up from the drawer he was currently working in, and rolled his eyes, "I noticed. Thank you for the update."
I sighed, "Malfoy…I was trying to make conversation. It was too quiet."
He laughed bitterly, "Well, did you think maybe, just maybe, I wanted it that way."
"You know…why do I even bother?" I said, giving up.
"I was going to ask you the same question. Look, we can have pointless bickering or we can be silent. I prefer the silence."
"Well, it seems we really can't agree on anything at all because I would actually prefer the bickering."
He laughed and put down his papers. "This is pathetic. You want to get out of here, don't you? Less talk: more work."
"That's the problem with you, Malfoy. You're always worried about getting it done. Can't you just….make the most of it and have fun while it's being done."
"Fun? With you?" He asked skeptically. "Fat chance."
"Okay," I agreed, "not fun, but at least, tolerance. Can you deal with that?"
He tilted his head and frowned for a moment before perking up. "Alright, Potter, I'll tolerate your presence if you tolerate my silence. Deal?"
"No deal." I put down the book I was trying to shove onto the shelf. I really was getting no where with it anyway.
"Then, no, I can't tolerate you. Look, this is stupid and idiotic. Just get back to work."
"No," I decided to rephrase my earlier words, "it's not that you don't like fun, you just don't understand it." I laughed softly. I couldn't seem to concentrate on my tasks. This was just too amusing.
I finally got a reaction from him. He got up from the filing cabinet, crossed over to front of the teacher's desk and sat down on top; knocking over dozens of papers while doing so. "What, exactly, do you mean I don't "understand" it? What's to understand? You do something amusing or…"fun" and there you go!" He yelled.
I laughed once again. "Malfoy, that is one of the worst responses…here, you wanted to get back to work, so let's do it."
"I am not touching another piece of paper until you tell me that I do, indeed, understand the word 'fun'".
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, "Oh, yes, great one, you have so much fun…you don't even know what to do with it. In fact, I didn't even know what fun was until I met the slytherins." I said sarcastically.
Apparently, though, the sarcasm wasn't enough for him. Stupid, Malfoy. He actually wanted me to MEAN it. I felt like I was having a conversation with Dudley.
Suddenly, his face became somber. He wasn't kidding around anymore. He rolled his eyes, jumped off the desk and sat down near the filing cabinet. I was almost sad our little "game" was over.
"Malfoy…" I let his name hang into the air. I really didn't think I was going to get a response.
"Just get back to work." He said softly.
Before I knew what was happening, he was talking, yet again, "So, why DID it upset you so much what I said about your friends? I mean…you're Gryffindors…don't you have some…I don't know, "loyalty" thing with each other. Did you honestly think they'd ditch you, or is it…do you have a thing for Granger, Potter?"
He said it all so fast, raising his eyebrow, that it shocked me and I dropped the books I was holding. He laughed, obviously thinking that I proved his point.
"You do? Honestly…Granger?" He seemed to be thinking it over. "Well, I guess I could have guessed."
He just kept right on talking and the shock almost made it too difficult to even defend myself. I shook my head quickly, "No! No, Hermione and I are just friends." I suppressed the urge to make a face at the disgust of having Hermione as my girlfriend. Sure, she was alright…I supposed…as a girl…or a friend, but obviously, that's not my style.
"No," I realized the alphabetizing would have to wait. We'd be here for a while anyway. "I do not have a thing for Hermione. In fact, I do not have a "thing" for anyone. Whatever thing means." I muttered. I was suddenly curious in spite of my better judgment.
"Well, anyway, who are you to criticize people's choices anyway? Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy?" I asked sniggering. "I mean, at least I have some decency…some standards."
To my surprise, the two of us ended up laughing together. "Well, Potter, I'll have you know…Pansy is quite the catch. I mean, I hear she and Goyle are a big thing now."
My eyes widened. "Weren't you dating her?" I was positively confused now.
He sighed and then began to speak slowly. "You see, Slytherins don't date for love of any of that stuff like you Gryffindors. It's all about…" He sighed again.
The two of us had all but abandoned what we were supposed to be doing and were now sitting (as far apart as possible) in the middle of the room; with me laying on the floor and him sitting on the desk swinging his legs. It seemed to be his thinking technique; swinging his legs, I mean.
"Slytherins date for power…or for money," he laughed, "or more money. It's hard to explain, Potter, and quite frankly, I really don't want to."
"Well, I'd rather not go back to work, so…we can talk about something else, I guess."
He raised an eyebrow, "Indeed? Well, the floor is all yours, Potter." He said jumping down to the floor.
"Well, I really didn't have anything in mind. Every topic I can think of is a problem in some way…"
"Yes, well, two sworn enemies normally don't have much to talk about, hmm?" he said softly.
"Yes, Malfoy, as strange as it sounds, I've been dreading this detention and it's not going…well…as bad as I thought."
Malfoy laughed, another genuine laugh that I was surprised was done in my presence. "Well, I would just love for you to admit something like THAT to Weasley. More important, I'd love to see it."
"Very funny. The day I pledge my loyalty to the Death Eaters, I promise, I'll tell Ron I sort of enjoyed this detention."
I noticed he suddenly looked a bit tense. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't a good thing to bring up. See what I mean, I can't say anything to you without it being bad."
He shook his head, "No, I'd actually…never mind." He finished. He seemed to be extremely confused about what he wanted to say and more confused about what he wanted to feel.
I decided to leave him alone. Maybe it was better in silence. I was shocked when I heard him speak again.
"Out of curiosity, how'd you feel?" It scared me. The absolute sincerity in his voice. It was a tone I had never heard him use, not to me, not to anybody before. I looked into his eyes for a moment trying to understand. I failed.
"Wh—what'd you mean?" I stammered confusedly.
He rolled his eyes. "Look, this—this isn't me. I don't ask for advice or opinions, especially from people like you, so when I ask…it's because…it's because I want to know. Don't…don't be condescending"
"I'm not. I just have no idea what you're on about…"
"When your parents died, you idiot!" He yelled losing his patience. "I don't get it, so…so tell me how you felt…please," he paused trying to calm himself down, "please tell me how you felt."
I really had no idea what to say to that. Malfoy was showing me such obvious vulnerability and I had many choices of how to respond to that. I was extremely confused. He'd lost his parents, but he couldn't know how to feel unless he knew how I felt about mine? It didn't make much sense, but I was willing to try.
"I don't…I don't remember it, Malfoy. I was so young and"
"Then, tell me," I noticed he had stood up and was walking around the large classroom slowly, "how it felt when your Godfather died."
I was shocked. At first, I was shocked that he had said it so bluntly. Then, I wondered…
"How did you know about that?" I asked softly.
He smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile still. "You forget who my relatives are, Potter."
"Well, I guess…" I had actually never been asked this question before. People had wondered, I'm sure, and they had tried to make me feel better, but they'd never questioned how it had felt in the first place.
"I guess I felt angry. I felt angry because someone would do that to him. I felt upset because this person was very important to me and…" I stopped for a moment. I was basically giving him information to haunt me with for the rest of my life. He could tell anyone he wanted what I was telling him here…but somehow…I knew he wouldn't. And…for some reason, if he did, I felt I didn't care.
"Mostly, I felt empty. I had given this man basically my whole heart. I had told him everything, really, that ever…hurt me…and he was the closest thing I had to a parent. So, when he died, I felt he took me with him."
I didn't know what I expected him to say. But, I waited for something, and there wasn't anything said.
After a moment, he shook his head, "I understand the anger. I don't understand why you gave your heart away. I mean, look at it like this, you give someone EVERYTHING, in some way or another, and they have enough licenses to destroy you."
"Yeah, I guess…so, what are you saying? I should just never trust anyone. They're either going to betray or die on me?" I asked slowly. Sadly, I had also had this thought on countless occasions. It really annoyed me that I had to tell him not to feel the way I had always felt as well.
"People screw you over. They want you for your money, your power, your status, etc. There is no one on this earth who would claim that their own happiness means nothing to them. They can claim all they want, but for it actually to be true…never happens, trust me." He stated calmly. The strange thing is, the more he talked, the more I realized he had a lot of good points here and there. I hated realizing it, though, because it meant I had to give up hope on a lot of things I dared to believe in.
"Malfoy, my mother…she gave her life for me. She died for me. Does that not constitute her love?" I questioned him.
"Look at how crappy life can be! Some people commit suicide because they hate the thought of living another day. They hate it so much that death actually sounds promising. So, for your mother to give up her crappy life…so that you could live one…" He stopped his pacing and finally sat back down, "that isn't the most amazing act of love one can show, in my opinion."
We sat in silence for a few moments. Not because we particularly didn't want to speak because I really did. The problem was…there was no response I had. Was he suggesting my parents didn't love me or was he simply saying life and love are useless?
Before I knew it, he was speaking again. "I don't know why, Potter, I am telling you this, but it seems…easier to plant this horribleness on someone who has…understood it too."
"Well, maybe I don't want to hear your problems!" I yelled before I could stop myself. I just didn't need him thinking I cared. I didn't need him thinking he could ask for help, I'd give it, and then the next day he'd be back to torturing me. I didn't need that. I didn't want that. And, damnit, I wasn't going to let myself get that.
"Well, you know you will, Potter. You can choose to listen, to help, hell, you can choose to run around with books covering your ears to drown out my sound, but I'm going to talk. I'm going to say what I need to because…because I need to."
I looked into his eyes. His eyes that were so clearly denying the words he spoke. He did care if I listened. I could see it was important to him that I listened. So, I decided, I would. Slowly, I nodded, and he nodded back. It was that one moment of agreement that said it all. He was trusting me. As he put it, he was "giving licenses to destroy" him. And I had the choice not to.
"Have you ever heard the words 'I love you'? Of course. Everyone has heard them. Whether it be from friends, family, or books. You know they are out there, directed at you or not, they are still out there. So, how come when you speak of love, you say true love. What's the difference between love and true love. What…is their a fake love? Do you say to someone, 'I love you, but not truly,'? Of course you don't! It is just meant to mean true love."
He paused for a while. To be honest, I wasn't sure what the hell he was on about, but I knew I was preparing myself for a speech. I tried to understand him, really, I did.
"Telling someone that you love them…or not even saying it, just feeling it, is giving them your complete self. You are now vulnerable. They are the one with the power. Do you understand? If they never say it back, they control you. If they do say it back…they could be lying to make you happy or to not hurt you. There are so many problems with this theory of love. It's…"
He seemed to be thinking of exactly what was wrong with love. He seemed to be searching for the words inside his mind and I waited patiently for it. I had never expected such truth…such powerful and honest words coming from a boy like Malfoy. He may not have a heart, but at least I know he has a brain.
"Well, it's stupid. That's all I'm going to say. I mean, if it's so easy to "fall", then why is it so hard for people to express their love? If it's such a great feeling, then why is their so much misery? If it's true…then…why doesn't it last forever? If it's such a powerful and amazing feeling…how can you describe it in one word. Love. When you think about it, it's picked up a lot of hype for a four letter word, hmm? I just…if it's so powerful, and so…true…I hate that word 'true'. Truth implies honesty and…if it's true love…how come lovers lie…hmm? As I was saying, if it is so powerful and true…why doesn't everyone feel it. There are some people…like your present company, that have never, and will never feel it. Does that make them…bad? Or does it just make them honest….for they have never spoken untrue words. Saying you love someone is never true, so I think people like me…are just doing everyone a favor by never telling a lie."
I didn't speak a word. I didn't move a muscle. How can one respond to such…words? I couldn't. I shouldn't. I blinked rapidly for a few minutes and, then realized, that wasn't accomplishing much. I said the first thing that came to my mind.
"I—I really am finished with my tasks. I—I hope she returns soon." I said softly and turned my back on him.
I think a part of him realized I wasn't going to say a word for or against his speech and I'm not sure he wanted me to either.
"Did you…did someone ever tell you a lie?" he asked quietly.
I turned so fast that I was surprised my head was still attached to my body. Speaking to him now suddenly made me feel…wrong. He was so…not himself. "Of—of course. Who hasn't been told a lie?"
"But, have you been told "the" lie. Has anyone ever said those words to you. Maybe…your Aunt and Uncle…or your friends,"
"No," I interrupted, "No, I don't think so. I'm sure it's implied that my friends care, but…I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't." I said quickly. I just wanted this conversation to end. I was suddenly the one praying for silence.
He decided to oblige to the unspoken prayer and he, too, turned his back on me to accomplish his set-aside work.
Finally, it seemed to us, we were done and were free to go back to our Common Rooms. I looked down at my watch and saw the time. I was after eight. We had been here a while.
As it was time to walk to our respective rooms, he turned without a word of farewell, as expected. I found myself yearning to know something.
"Hey, Malfoy!" I yelled across the hall.
He turned around swiftly and looked me straight in the eyes with his own showing confusion. "Yeah, Potter?"
"Have you ever been told…"the" lie?"
His face slowly turned into a sad sort of smile, "Who hasn't?"
A/N: There you go! A pretty long chapter there, I'd say. I put a lot of time into writing this one and am trying to give you more before September because I start school then. It would motivate me if I got some reviews! Hint