Author's Notes: A much longer chapter this time, with lots of plot! :)

Chapter 13: Darren

In the weeks that followed things settled back to normal. They still fucked – more often than before if anything, and they still bickered about every stupid little thing they could find to bicker about. The whole thing made Draco oddly content.

They never quite seemed to get round to sex in the shower though and one day Draco came back from dinner to find Isabelle sitting on the couch staring at the wall.

"What's up sweetheart?" he asked, when she didn't react as usual to his appearance.

"Darren Turner asked me out today," she told him, her voice flat and emotionless. She hadn't looked at him he noticed.

"Oh." He found himself reaching for the nearest table for support because his legs suddenly felt very weak indeed. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it," she said lightly, though her expression didn't quite match the attempt at casualness. She seemed to be struggling with something internally.

"Oh." He couldn't think straight. He tried to wrest his thoughts back into line and eventually managed to say, "What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. Yes probably." She didn't sound so sure though and Draco clutched at that, trying to suppress the horrible twisted feeling in his stomach at the idea of Isabelle sleeping with anyone other than him.

"Why?" he asked, because he could think of nothing better and he didn't want this conversation to end before he'd managed to say something half sensible. Or maybe talk her out of it.

"Why not?" She shrugged and finally turned, meeting his eyes. Last night he'd held her in his arms and those eyes had been bright with post-coital laughter and frustration as he'd teased her about the way she'd done up her hair, now they just looked as flat and empty as her voice sounded.

"Because he's a wanker!" Draco had no idea why he'd said that. Who the hell was Darren Turner anyway? But he was panicking now because what was he going to do if he couldn't fuck Isabelle anymore?

"How do you know?" she frowned at him, as if trying to work out whether he did actually know Darren or not.

"Because I do!" A stupid answer, he knew. One that didn't help his case, but it was all he could muster at the moment.

"What house is he in?" Fuck!

"Ravenclaw," he guessed wildly, because it seemed most likely.

She shook her head. "Hufflepuff actually."

"Oh." Draco swallowed and tried to rally. "Well that makes him even more of a wanker then."

"Oh fuck off." She turned away now, putting her back to him so he could no longer see her face, though he could see her fingers fiddling with the material covering the couch.

"Why would you want to go out with a Hufflepuff anyway?" he snapped, more on edge than he knew he should have been about this whole thing. He needed to say something better than this. Something witty, or flirty, or something to get her to respond and wind her up and drive her back into his arms so he could fuck this stupid idea right out of her pretty little head.

"Because he's a nice guy Draco and I actually want a relationship. I know you don't get that, but it's what I want."

He blinked at her stupidly for a minute. Opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"Not with you! I don't want one with you!" A slight look of panic had come into her eyes as she seemed to realise what she'd just said. "I mean I want a relationship with someone who actually wants a relationship with me and… oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes," he said blankly because he had nothing. Nothing to argue against that. Nothing witty or flirty or anything else. With nothing to say he went to his room. The walk seemed to take longer than usual and on the way he heard Isabelle call his name, but he didn't stop and he didn't turn around. He slammed the door to his room behind him and lay down on the bed, staring up at the canopy above.

"Fuck!"

One vehement exclamation of his feelings was all he could manage because he didn't really know how he was feeling right now. Mostly he felt numb.

Eventually he fell asleep and when he woke up the next morning Isabelle wasn't speaking to him again.

She started going out with Darren and she didn't speak to him again at all.

No bickering. No teasing. No flirting. No fucking. Nothing.

Nothing.

Endless nothing.

Darren it turned out was ridiculously handsome, muscular and broad shouldered, but Draco was pleased to find, a couple of inches shorter than him, though obviously still taller than the very petite Isabelle. He also clearly adored Isabelle. Draco could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, the way he touched her and the whole thing made him sick to his stomach.

Isabelle was being fairly good about not shoving her relationship in his face, but Draco still saw them together sometimes, especially outside their rooms, in the Great Hall at mealtimes, in the lessons they shared and in other odd places around the school.

They were awful and sappy and disgusting.

Draco could hardly stand it.

He didn't know why he hadn't expected this, but he hadn't. He'd thought Isabelle would be his until the end of the year, because usually he could twist girls around his little finger. Usually they came running when he called. Usually they were all his until he let them go.

Isabelle wasn't a normal girl though. He should have realised. Should have been prepared.

Should have fucked her in the shower a lot sooner, but he'd thought they had time. Weeks, months.

They didn't.

All they had now was a frosty politeness and a hole where that intense spark that had burnt between them should have been.

At least Draco did. Isabelle had Darren.

Her silencing charms went down again and Draco could hear them through the wall doing that and Darren sounded like he was far better at this whole sex thing than any of her previous boyfriends had been. It made his stomach twist and his chest constrict and a pillow over his head did nothing to shut out the ridiculously loud sounds they were making.

Eventually he could stand it no longer and banged on the dividing wall, which didn't seem to stop them until half frantic with fear that he'd hear Isabelle come when it wasn't him making her do it he remembered his own silencing charms and ripped them down, immediately smacking on the wall and screaming for them to stop till he thought his lungs would bleed.

He yelled until he couldn't anymore and then collapsed to the floor, not knowing from the silence whether they had actually stopped or whether Isabelle had just redone her silencing charms and then carried on. Defeated he put his own back up and crawled back to bed, curling up into the foetal position and biting back the sobs that threatened to rise in his throat.

After that he caved in and tried to fill the void with all the girls he could lure back to his room. Even Tracey who made the strange noises when she climaxed. Somehow it wasn't enough.

He dragged himself through four weeks of torture, eventually fucking Merlin knows who every night just to exhaust him enough to fall asleep. He only stopped after he made the mistake.

The mistake of falling asleep with Marissa still in his bed after a particularly long, frustrating shag, which he hadn't really wanted or enjoyed. He had woken up in the early hours of the morning and shot out of bed when he'd realised that the warm weight pressing against him wasn't Isabelle but that stupid little Slytherin slut.

Why it would have been Isabelle in the first place he had no idea because apart from that one time in her room they had never slept in the same bed either.

"Get out!" he'd hissed, as she'd woken up and looked at him in confusion. She had been reluctant and fucking hell he'd screwed up because unlike Sadie, who didn't really care, this girl actually wanted to have a relationship with him and was desperate to be the one to tame him. She'd tried to fling herself on him repeatedly until he'd actually dealt with it by picking her up and carrying her, half dressed, to the outside door of their rooms and dumping her in the corridor.

She'd screamed in rage and banged on the door so hard that Draco had eventually cast a reverse silencing charm on it so he couldn't hear her anymore and when he'd turned round Isabelle had been standing in her bedroom doorway looking at him with such disgust that his stomach had twisted and lurched.

He'd sneered at her, though he hadn't really meant it and run to bathroom where his stomach had revolted and he'd actually been physically sick. It was disgusting and he was disgusted with himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been sick, it wasn't something that ever happened to him and why his stomach had chosen now to do it he couldn't imagine.

He grabbed his toothbrush and brushed his teeth vigorously, trying to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth. Moments later there was the sound of knocking on the door.

"Are you ok?" The concern in Isabelle's voice nearly sent his stomach into revolt again. He flung down his toothbrush, rinsed his mouth and gripped the front of the sink, breathing hard as he looked into the mirror.

"Dra- Malfoy, what's going on?" Another wave of nausea, because since when did she call him Malfoy again?

He gazed at himself in the mirror. He looked dreadful, skin far too pale even by his usual standards and dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"Malfoy are you ok?" The voice sounded on the verge of panic and it was accompanied by a much louder banging on the door. "If you don't answer right now I'm just going to come in!"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. The door was flung open and in the reflection of the mirror he saw her, wide-eyed and anxious, as she burst through the door. There was a split second pause, and then seeing him just standing there looking at her in the mirror her expression turned to anger.

"What the fuck Malfoy?!"

"I'm fine." He forced it out through gritted teeth, feeling far from fine as she gave a growl of annoyance and stalked out again, slamming the door behind her. He waited until her bedroom door slammed shut then raised his fist and smashed the mirror in front of him.

Fucking idiot. Why had he fallen asleep with that slut?

With blood trickling down his hand he turned on the shower and got in, not even waiting for the water to get hot before he stepped inside. The cold water shocked him back to his senses a little, and as the water turned first tepid, and then properly hot, he inspected his damaged hand, wincing as the water stung at the cuts. He'd have to heal it in his room afterwards.

He scrubbed himself thoroughly, trying to wash away the taint he felt at actually having woken up with a girl in his bed. Sentimental idiots did that and he was not a sentimental idiot. They were just supposed to be a distraction.

A distraction from what?

Isabelle.

He sank to the floor of the cubicle, curling up under the stream of water and cursing himself for his stupidity.

He couldn't even work out what he'd done that was stupid anymore. Isabelle had just been a quick fuck hadn't she? The problem he decided was that she'd taken away his control. Unaccustomed as he was to self-introspection even Draco knew that he was a spoilt brat. He wanted to be the one to make the decisions. No one told him what to do or how to do it.

Usually he was the one who decided when he was done with girls, but Isabelle had decided this one for him. That was the problem. That was what he didn't like. She'd taken away his control and he didn't like it. It wasn't her, it was his own way that he wanted. Well this time he couldn't have it and as he uncurled himself from the floor and hauled himself upright he realised that he was either going to have to take back control or find some way to deal with the fact that this time he wasn't going to win.

He scrubbed himself down again because he still felt dirty, not just with the stain of Marissa, but with the taint of all the girls he'd slept with over the past few weeks.

Fucking disgusting.

When he finally got out the shower and made his way back to his room he caved in and dug through his trunk, locating the sleeping potions his mother had given him before he'd left for Hogwarts back in September. She'd known he wasn't sleeping well back then, but since he'd ensconced himself in the familiarity that was Hogwarts, far away from the nightmares of home, with Isabelle to tease and argue with he hadn't needed them.

Now though he found them, decided that they were probably all right to drink even after all these months and took half a bottle. It knocked him out till lunchtime the next day and he felt at least more human for the sleep.

No more girls. He carried on taking the potions for the next week and by the end of it felt more like Draco Malfoy again.

Not that the situation with Isabelle had improved at all. She was still resolutely refusing to speak to him and he started avoiding her properly, something he hadn't really done before because he'd hoped that if he was there she'd crack and say something.

Now though he'd decided that he needed to show some semblance of self-control. He needed to be a Malfoy. That was his name after all, even if he wasn't particularly fond of it right now.

He'd barely even seen her all week.

He hadn't bothered with his sleeping potion tonight and as a result he was lying awake staring at the canopy overhead, hoping that sleep would for once, come unaided. He didn't have much potion left and he was going to have to relearn how to do it.

He realised he needed a drink of water.

Getting up he padded to the kitchen, reaching out to push the door open, just as the door swung open by itself.

"What- shit!" He stumbled forwards, crashing into someone on the other side of the door and automatically reaching out to steady the petite figure, who let out an excessively loud scream of fright.

"Fuck Isabelle, it's me!" he gasped, as she hit out at him, catching him on the shoulder with her clenched fist whilst he attempted to both set her upright and catch hold of her hands at the same time.

"Shit!" she shrieked, though she stopped struggling, allowing him to right them both and then, reluctantly, release her. "Sorry," she gasped, looking straight at him in surprise.

"Isabelle…" He wanted to say something, because this was the most honest and real interaction they'd had in weeks, and because even in the dim light he could see that her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed with shock and she was bloody beautiful.

"What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend?" There was a hand on his shoulder, turning him round, forcing him to look at the much less appealing figure of Darren, attempting to loom over him, despite his shorter height.

"Nothing," he spat, more angry than was really justifiable that his chance to speak to Isabelle had been ruined, "I was just…"

He trailed off, because he was dressed only in his pyjama bottoms and Darren's eyes were now fixed on the mark on his arm, half fearful, half disgusted.

"Bloody hell! You are a fucking Death Eater and you're-" Whatever he was Draco didn't wait to hear because he'd said those bloody words, right in front of Isabelle. His fist connected with the other man's nose with a satisfying crunch.

There was a second where blood spurted down Darren's face and Draco felt quite smug, and then the other man hit him and he stumbled backwards, because Darren weighed more than him, and his head hit the wall behind with a sickening crack. Then everything went dark.

When he woke it was to the sound of voices. He felt dizzy and disorientated and he didn't open his eyes, because he recognised those voices and they didn't sound too happy.

"You didn't have to hit him like that." That was Isabelle. She sounded annoyed.

"He hit me first!" Darren. Fucking wanker.

"Well, did you think about maybe rising above it? You know, being better than him and all that."

"I am better than him Isabelle, he's a fucking scumbag and he's one of them. Why didn't you tell me? Haven't you seen the mark?"

"Well I must have done, since you're so convinced I cavort naked with him at every opportunity. I don't know why you're worried about that seeing as how he's such a scumbag." Draco could hear the sarcasm dripping from those words and it filled him with an inexplicable joy.

"Why are you even defending him? You said he does nothing but wind you up anyway."

"Wind me up? He barely speaks to me anymore!" She actually sounded upset. Upset and confused. Draco frowned a little. She was the one who had stopped speaking to him!

"Why the hell would you want to speak to him?" Darren growled.

"I don't!" she snapped and Draco's stomach twisted. "I just mean he's acting a bit weird lately. He never says anything anymore."

Draco swallowed and found his voice. "That's because you don't speak to me." Merlin, he sounded awful. He really needed a drink of water.

He cracked his eyes open to find that he was actually in the Hospital Wing, with Isabelle standing by his bed, blinking at him in surprise. A little apart from her was Darren, glaring at him angrily as if the entire thing was his fault.

"I don't speak to you because you don't speak to me!" Isabelle glared at him accusingly.

"You stopped speaking to me first," he pointed out, struggling to sit up and noticing with disgust that he was wearing one of those hideous hospital gowns.

"No I didn't! You did it first." She pointed at him accusingly as he finally sat up and managed to gulp down some of the goblet of water that had been placed on his bedside cabinet.

"Well this is a delightfully mature discussion," he drawled with a smirk, feeling inexplicably better about life and replacing the water on the table. He let his eyes flick to Darren. The guy was staring at his damn arm again because the hospital gown had short sleeves and did nothing to cover up the tattoo emblazed there.

Glaring at him as if daring him to mention it again Draco drew up his legs to his chest and folded his arms behind them, dropping his head down onto his knees so he didn't have to look at either of them.

"What's that prick doing here?" he mumbled.

"Go away Darren." That was the last thing he'd been expecting to hear from Isabelle. He shot his head up again, eyes darting between them both. Isabelle had her arms folded and was looking very fixedly at the wall behind his head, whilst Darren opened and shut his mouth, looking completely horrified.

After a few seconds of this Isabelle, sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose and turned towards him.

"Look Darren. This really isn't helping. Please just leave for a minute so I can talk to Malfoy."

"What the hell do you need to say to a scumbag like him?" Darren spat, his eyes flashing angrily.

"Darren!" There was a warning tone in Isabelle's voice, but it softened with her next words. "Please, just trust me, ok?"

There was another pause and then Darren nodded. He looked no less angry but to Draco's relief he gave him a final glare and then turned and left the Hospital Wing.

Draco unwound his arms and fussed about with his pillows until they were comfortable enough to sit back on, studiously avoiding Isabelle's accusing gaze as she watched him silently. He let himself relax back onto them for a second, closing his eyes briefly before he snapped them open and looked into Isabelle's eyes.

She looked fragile he realised. More fragile then he'd ever seen.

"Everything all right sweetheart?" he asked softly, surprised at just how concerned he sounded. He hadn't meant it to come out like that at all.

"You shouldn't have hit him." Despite the fragility in her appearance, her voice sounded as sharp and together as always.

Draco snorted scathingly and folded his arms again. "He deserved it."

"Maybe."

That was a shocking admission, Draco looked at her searchingly but could see nothing in her eyes but that haunting brittleness, as if she would fall apart if he pushed too hard. He decided not to.

"Why did you stop talking to me?" he asked, because he'd thought he'd known, but now he had a feeling he didn't.

She shrugged in reply. "You didn't talk to me anymore. Besides we didn't really talk in the first place. We argued and we fucked, we didn't talk."

"Sometimes we did." That earned him another shrug, but there was a flicker in her eyes that he was sure he hadn't imagined.

"Maybe," she said softly.

"Isabelle…"

"Don't Draco."

So he didn't, because he had no fucking clue what words had been about to come out of his mouth anyway. Instead he raised his hand and brushed her hair back from her face. She leaned into the gesture, just slightly, and let her eyes drop closed.

"If you talk to me when I get out of here I promise I'll try not to call you sweetheart in front of your boyfriend," he drawled when he let his hand drop, because that gesture had been far too sickly sweet and so un-Draco like that he could have kicked himself.

To his surprise Isabelle actually laughed, and with the laughter some of the fragility was cleared from her expression.

"You'd better bloody not do!" she said, smirking down at him. He smirked back up at her as she shook her head and turned to go.

"See you later sweetheart," he called after her, because really, that was too tempting to resist.