A Dark Tale

~ chapter 2 ~

There is a dead silence in the room.

I glance up at him across the table, noticing he is concentrating hard on the food on his plate, completely ignoring my presence.

We sometimes eat together in his...our living quarters. Sometimes we eat in the Great Hall. I don't know which is worse.

Being ignored by my 'husband' and trying to eat in an awkward silence or being surrounded by students who are staring at me and whispering nasty things about me. About us.

I play with the food on my plate, taking small bites. I can't let him notice I'm not eating. That would raise suspicions and it's the last thing I need at the moment.

But on the other hand, I do not think he would notice if I grew another head. It is like I am not even in the same room as he is.

I clear my throat and force myself to speak, "Sir...about this paper you assigned - "

"You know we cannot talk about school work, Miss Granger. It would be unprofessional."

"I just want to know if - "

"No," comes his cold reply.

I bite my tongue in frustration. Why can't he just be honest and admit he does not want to talk to me in general? It does not have anything to do with being unprofessional.

"Given the situation, you should not even be in my class," he continues and I look up at him.

Our eyes meet for a second and then he looks away, tensing up.

I lick my lips hesitantly, a big question on my mind. Should I ask?

As if he reads my mind, he shakes his head, "No. Not tonight."

"It's been six days already."

"No need to state the obvious. I am aware of the date, thank you very much."

"So...tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is."

Stupid.

As if we are disscussing a business meeting, not something as intimate as -

"I am going to retire to my bedroom," he suddenly stands up.

I nod, "Alright. See you tomorrow."

He does not even wait for me to finish my sentence as he disappears from the room.

xxx

We have separate bedrooms. And that's something I'm actually thankful for. I need my space, my privacy.

Especially now.

We only spend one night per week together. And that's because we are forced to.

The law.

Sleeping with my teacher.

Disgusting.

At first it was horrible, but now I've...gotten used to it. It's still awkward, but I try to be mature about it.

It usually takes a few minutes and then he practically throws me out of his bedroom, almost slamming the doors in my face.

I guess it's hard for him too.

xxx

He glares at me.

There's no reaction on his face.

Nothing.

Perhaps he did not hear me.

I repeat the sentence, "I think we should marry, Sir."

Again, nothing.

My courage is slowly disappearing and I start to think this is all a mistake.

And then he opens his mouth, but a few long moments pass before words make it's way out.

"Granger," he whispers then raises his hand, pointing it towards the door, "Out."

"What? But - „

"Out," he repeats, calmly.

"Aren't you going to...think about it? Let me explain?"

"I will not repeat myself again, Miss Granger."

"I've given this a lot of thought! It wouldn't really be a marriage, but a...deal of some sort. We could - "

He suddenly approaches me, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the door. Before I can say anything he pushes me outside and slams the doors.

xxx

I yawn, heading towards the kitchen. Getting up early in the morning is becoming really difficult. I'm tired all the time, no matter how much sleep I get.

This day is going to be really stressful. I have classes until evening. I remember times when I was excited to learn new things, but now I'm...numb. I know I am never going to get to use the knowledge in real life, so why bother with learning?

I pour myself a glass of orange juice and then I hear him.

Turning around, I almost bump into him, but he quickly moves away from me. He's dressed in his usual black robes. That is all he ever wears. I've never seen him in anything other than that.

And I'm just standing there in my pyjama pants and a T-shirt, feeling a bit awkward.

We are not comfortable around each other as a wife and a husband should be.

It's understandable.

Our marriage is fake.

"When do your classes start?" he asks.

"In an hour."

"You better hurry. You do not want to be late."

I don't like it when he acts as my father. That makes the whole marriage thing even more disgusting and awkward and wrong.

"Should I call the House elf? Do you wish to eat - ?" he stops mid sentence.

I tense up.

What is wrong?

His eyes narrow and he moves closer to me, looking at my face.

"Where did you get that bruise?" he asks, finally meeting my eyes.

"W-What bruise?" I back away from him, trying to hide my face under my hair.

"The one under your eye."

Crap.

I forgot to check myself in the mirror.

I do it every morning, hiding bruises and pinpoint spots of blood under the skin with a simple spell.

"I-I don't remember," I quickly answer.

I'm angry at him for catching me off guard.

"How can you not remember?" he insists.

"I just don't!" I snap at him, "Enough with the questions. You are not my father. You don't care about me so stop pretending."

His jaw tightens and he nods, his eyes cold.

"You are right, Miss Granger. I do not care."

He turns and leaves. He always reacts like that. He rarely argues, because he simply leaves.

I'm not sorry for snapping at him.

He can't find out about my condition. I couldn't stand it. It's easier when people hate you than when they pity you.

I don't need his pity. I don't want his pity.

I just want to do something for him. Something good. Something in return for all those years he spent in danger trying to keep us safe.

And if that means he hates me, that's fine with me.

A/N: I'm so glad you like my new story! A BIG thank-you to all of you! The chapters are going to get longer as we get into the story. :)