CHAPTER 4: One last wish.
-Why do you keep dragging us around the Gryffindors, Luna? –Helena whined.
The Gryffindor boys were probably the least delicate ones when they tried to hit on her. A visit to their common room meant she would have bruises on her arse the following morning.
-I think they're nice –Luna smiled.
-I know who you think is nice… -Astoria smirked- You fancy that Longbottom kid, don't you?
-No, I don't! –but she reddened as a tomato.
-Seriously, Luna, out of all the guys in here… You like Neville? –Helena made a face.
-What's wrong with him?
-You know… -she raised an eyebrow.
-You're so full of shit, Helena! –Astoria groaned- You keep complaining about how no one seems to appreciate your inner beauty and then you pick on her because she likes Longbottom.
-Yeah, like you would want anything with someone like him!
-That's none of your business! Nor mine, for that matter. This only concerns Luna. If she likes him, I'd say go for it.
-Girls, please… -Luna muttered, embarrassed- Keep your voice down.
-Sorry, love –Astoria punched her softly in the arm-. But seriously, you have my blessing.
As she headed towards the Slytherin common room, she turned around and yelled at her Ravenclaw friends:
-French the hell out of him!
-Miss Greengrass, please! –Professor Slughorn called her name out loud- Could you be a little more discreet?
-Sorry, Professor.
-I'm sure Professor Snape would have given you detention for such a language.
-He probably would have, sir –Astoria hung her head down.
-Very well, then. Tomorrow night I'm expecting you at the dungeons to help clean up the Potions materials.
Astoria sighed, but all the same smiled slightly at Slughorn. He was not a bad man, and, quite frankly, he seemed a little bit overwhelmed with so many teenagers running around.
-Yes, sir.
-Goodnight, then, Miss Greengrass.
-Goodnight, sir.
She rolled her eyes back once he was out of sight. The second she stepped into her dorm, she could feel the tension in the air. Pansy was crying, again. Her sister, Daphne, held her by the shoulders, in an obviously fake attempt to comfort her. The other Slytherin girl, Martha, was reading a book sitting on her bed, oblivious to everything that happened around her. Not that it surprised her; Martha was not autistic, but could easily be mistaken for it.
-Hey, Pansy, are you alright? –she forced herself to ask, just out of politeness.
-Does it look like she is? –Daphne snapped- God, Astoria, could you be less tactful?
-Hey, I'm just asking, okay?!
-It's alright –Pansy sobbed-. Thanks, Astoria.
-Don't thank her. She's almost as bad as he is –Daphne commented, glaring at her sister.
-He? –Astoria played stupid.
-Draco Malfoy, of course! –Daphne looked like she could spit on her.
-Draco… Draco… -Astoria put a finger to her lips- Oh, yeah, I know a Draco. Isn't that the guy you were hitting on right after Pansy left the table before?
Daphne's eyes widened at her words. Pansy stopped whimpering abruptly and raised her eyes to look at Astoria. She then looked straight at Daphne, who backed away a little bit. As Pansy regained composure, Daphne stood up and walked up to the door, muttering excuses and soothing words. The second Pansy jumped off the bed, Daphne opened the door and ran out of the room as fast as her legs allowed her. Pansy followed quickly, yelling her name angrily. Daphne only had the time to step into the common room before she was tackled down by her friend. She fell flat on her face and cried. Pansy turned her around and kept her still with her knees as she slapped her hard on the face. Astoria joined the rest of the Slytherins in watching how both girls fought. Daphne tried desperately to scratch Pansy's face, but Pansy was too fast and too furious for her to do anything. She grabbed a handful of blond curls and pulled hard, yanking it. Daphne screamed in pain right before someone pulled Pansy off her. The girl struggled to get rid of Draco, who was firmly holding her back.
-Let me go!
-Stop this, Pansy! What the hell has gotten into you?! –he screamed at her.
-What do you think?! –she turned around and glared at him with her beautiful sapphire eyes- Did she or did she not hit on you earlier today?
-So what? –his irises seemed metallic to her now.
Pansy stopped for a second and understood what she was doing. She realized she was making a completely unnecessary scene. Draco Malfoy was nobody anymore, and she did not have any logical reasons to deal with him. She chuckled.
-What? –he snapped.
-God, you're pathetic –her chuckles turned to a big wide grin-. Go ahead, fuck her. Fuck everyone else. I don't care anymore. You're not worth it anymore.
-Shut up –he said, through his clenched teeth, aware that everyone else could hear her words.
-Says who? You? –Pansy was laughing now, glad to see she had finally hurt him bad- Why would I have to listen to a poor useless orphan? You're a good-for-nothing son of a bitch, Draco. With or without a Dark Mark.
Professor Slughorn had heard the riot and, puffing, ran to the Slytherin common room. What he had expected was nothing compared to what he actually saw. Pansy Parkinson stood in front of Draco Malfoy, panting. The boy's eyes were open as wide as they could be; his face pale as chalk. In the blink of an eye, he raised his hand and struck Pansy hard across the face. She fell down, with a sob. Then, somebody noticed Professor Slughorn and they all stood out of the way. The elderly man gave Draco an incredulous look before kneeling down to help Pansy. Once he brushed her blond locks of hair off her face, he saw her bottom lip was busted. The second he looked back at Draco, the boy knew he was fucked.
-This is outrageous! –Minerva pounded with her fist on the desk- What the hell was going through your head?!
Draco did not answer. He simply stared back at the Headmistress with the coldest expression in his repertoire. He was thankful that she had asked Horace to leave, though. The old man looked like he could burst into tears at any moment.
-When I asked you to come back to Hogwarts I actually believed you could make a profit out of this. And on your first day, Draco, you have assaulted one of your classmates.
-You didn't hear what she said.
-I do not give a fuck about what she said. What can you possibly tell me about Miss Parkinson that I do not know already? Yes, she is annoying, and clingy, and obsessive. That does not give you the right to abuse her, and I am telling you, this is the last chance I am ever going to give you.
-Maybe I don't want another chance.
-That's why I'm giving it to you –Minerva barked-. Because, even though you do not deserve it, I am a much better person than you.
-What gives you the right to decide that? –he hissed.
-How do you sleep at night, Draco? –she asked, randomly.
-Pretty bad.
-I sleep fine. There's your answer.
Draco glared at her with hate. Deep inside, though, he could feel some kind of admiration growing. Minerva McGonagall was definitely despicable. Proud, stubborn and mouthy. Maybe if he had had a typically Gryffindor mother he would still have someone left.
-You're going to scrub Potion cauldrons every night for a month, starting tomorrow. If you skip one single detention, it's going to be the rest of the year. Is that clear, Mister Malfoy?
-Yes, Headmistress –he grinned at her-. I just remembered, I'm going to need to be excused one of these days.
-Why is that?
-I decided it's about time I pay my parents a visit.
-When you have a particular date in mind come see me.
-Thank you, Minerva –he nodded.
Without waiting for an answer or permission, he got up and left. Minerva shook her head as she reached into one of the drawers to pull out a bottle of Firewhiskey. She served herself half a glass, which she drank in one big gulp. She brought her fingers to her temples and massaged them softly, wondering what the hell was yet to happen during her first year as Headmistress of Hogwarts.
Even though he would have rather died than admitted it, Draco was kind of ashamed to go back into the Slytherin common room. Fortunately enough, Professor Slughorn had sent everyone off to bed immediately, and only Blaise was waiting for him, hidden in a corner.
-Did she rip you a new one? –he asked in a whisper.
He startled Draco, who had not seen anyone in the room. Once he recognized the voice, he sat down next to him and exhaled heavily.
-I have to scrub cauldrons for a month.
-Could have been worse.
-So what, Blaise? –he sighed.
After a couple minutes of silence, Blaise dared to mutter:
-She's okay. Madam Pomfrey healed her in a second.
-I did not ask you.
-You didn't have to.
Draco felt his glottis close tight. He knew he was not going to cry. He was not able to anymore. But the fact he could not let his emotions flow freely, not even in front of his best friend, was much more painful than he could have guessed. His tears rotted inside and left bitter traces all over the place. The fireplace was still lit, and he thought it would not really matter if he stayed there for a little while. Blaise would stay with him alright. He always stayed with him. At some subconscious level, Draco was aware that his friend had always been in love with him. And, disturbing as it was when he thought about it, it also gave him a kind of warm sensation; to know that someone was still able to love him and to see someone of value in his disintegrating self. He knew it was selfish, but he let Blaise hold him in his arms and allowed himself to drift off to sleep as his friend played with his locks of smooth hair. His last conscious thought was a wish. He actually wished he could love Blaise the same way he loved him.