In Rainbows
Chapter Two: "Prism" or "Weird Fishes"
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In the deepest ocean, the bottom of the sea
your eyes, they turn me
I'd be crazy not to follow, follow where you lead
your eyes, they turn me
Weird Fishes - Radiohead
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I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually glad that I'm alone with Malfoy right now, because the only thing that could make this situation more mortifying is having witnesses. Curse me and my newfound weakness for shapely male buttocks—if he hadn't caught me looking, I wouldn't be in this mess.
He's smirking this knowing little smirk, and I'm having trouble tearing my eyes away from his—there are flecks of blue in the silvery gray, and I don't think I'd noticed that before.
It is Malfoy who looks away, slowly dipping his quill in ink. "It's OK to admit that you have good taste, Weasley," he says softly, with a quick flash of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.
"I admit to nothing." I'm praying to all the gods that can hear that my Weasley blush won't betray me now. "And since when are you such a Chatty Cathy? We were in a room for eight hours and you didn't say a word," I remind him, grasping at anything that will distract from whatever it is that just happened between us.
Malfoy eats it up, apparently taking exception to my use of old fashioned idioms. "What did you just call me?" He turns around all the way in his chair so he can look at me properly. "Chatty Cathy? Are you someone's granny trapped in the body of a fourteen year old?"
"I turned fifteen in August," I inform him.
"How amazing for you," he says flatly, and I make a face.
The corners of Malfoy's mouth quiver as if he might smile again.
"Look," he says suddenly, "I couldn't have spoken to you even if I'd wanted to that day." After a moment he adds, "I lost a bet with Theo Nott, and I couldn't open my mouth without—"
"—Ha! The amazing frog-puking ferret!" I declare, finally getting my brother's strange barb at dinner.
Malfoy blinks. "That was actually...kind of mean." Instead of annoyed, he actually looks amused.
"What was the bet?" I inquire, genuinely curious. I'm also baffled by how civilly we're conversing. This is almost surreal.
"Hmm? Oh, the outcome of some practice duel." He's back to writing in his parchment, but I can tell he's listening. "Why did you get detention that day?"
I hesitate, but ultimately decide to tell the truth. "I jinxed Zacharias Smith during a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff."
"Did he tell on you?"
"He didn't have to," I say morosely. "McGonagall was right there and saw it all."
"Wait... you attacked another student—a prefect at that—in front of McGonagall?"
"Well yeah, but I didn't plan it that way," I snap defensively. "Obviously."
"Let me guess," the blond says, dipping his quill in ink once more, "you lost your temper and exploded into an embarrassing display of Gryffindor sentimentality?"
"He tried to knock me off my broom!" I practically yell.
"What, during Quidditch? The scandal of it all."
"I could have been killed! And it's so wrong coming from him—you don't expect shit like that from a Hufflepuff. Your guard is down. When we play you lot, we're on our toes... It's just different."
Malfoy pauses again. "Hmm. I guess I can see what you mean."
I would never admit this to anyone, but I feel a certain satisfaction at being validated by the Slytherin.
"So what about today?" he wants to know, turning to look at me this time. "Who did you attack?"
"Nobody." I scowl. "Snape hates me. He said I looked distracted and gave me two detentions. He made me pickle toad brain."
Malfoy pouts in mock sympathy.
"Anyway, why do you care?" I sniff. "Are you writing an investigative report? I didn't know you were so nosy."
There's still a look of vague amusement on his face. Damn that puking gangbanger ferret—no matter what I say, he seems completely unfazed.
"Information is always useful, Weasley," he says pleasantly, and then he looks directly at me. "Even if it pertains to boring little Gryffindor girls like you."
For some reason, this is what really bugs me out of all that he's said and done. Maybe because I've been answering all of his questions rather candidly, and was kind of enjoying our little chat. And now I feel...played.
"Death Eater is not really a viable career choice anymore," I begin snidely, "so your deviousness is…" I trail off, my gaze caught in his. Malfoy's facial expression hasn't really changed, but there's something almost chilling about his eyes, and his features look suddenly hard as stone.
This is it. I've drawn blood, but somehow it doesn't feel nearly as satisfying as I thought it would.
Certain facts that have remained unpondered surface somewhere in my mind. I can't say I didn't expect my remark about Death Eaters to upset him—the truth is that I really am mean when I'm angry, and often say things I will later come to regret. It's equally true that I didn't realize the full effect my words would have on the Slytherin.
"That was a stupid thing to say," I amend quickly. His eyes are scanning my face carefully, and I feel a flush creep up my neck.
Just then the door to the room bursts open, and we both turn to see the elegantly lanky form of Theodore Nott framed by the orange lights of the corridor lamps.
I feel a potent relief wash through me. Superficial though our interactions in the library may have been, Theo and I have always been civil which each other, and he once picked up my book when it fell out of my bag. From what I've seen, he's not openly malicious, like Pansy Parkinson, or insufferably arrogant, like Malfoy and Zabini are known to be. Of all the supposedly intellectual Slytherins, Theo reminds me of a Ravenclaw the most. Perhaps he really is evil, but he seems too self-complacent to bother being conniving. He's also rather dashing, truth be told.
It may be my imagination, but the weird mood in the room seems to have lifted with Theo's entrance. He now looks from me to Malfoy. To my surprise, and tiny bit of dismay, he completely ignores me and my idiotic smile.
"Did you tell Snape I went to the infirmary?" he questions Malfoy.
"Of course not. Then I would have to tell him I hexed you," the blond Slytherin replies matter-of-factly. "By the way, you're joining us for detention on Saturday."
"Bloody great," Theo mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for that."
I turn to look at Malfoy. It's bizarre to hear him lump me with him into the word us. Especially after what just transpired. He returns my gaze, and I force myself to not look away from his stormy gray eyes. Has my heart been racing all this time, or did it happen just now?
"Whoa, do you guys need a moment? I can wait outside," Theo offers, looking from me to Malfoy.
"Don't be ridiculous, Nott." I've replied perhaps too quickly.
"What were the two of you doing?" he presses.
"Getting acquainted," Malfoy says, his tone neutral.
"Well I want to be acquainted as well." Theo's green eyes are looking me up and down in a way that is loaded with insinuations.
Dashing or not I find him repugnant, and will now revise my previous statement regarding his character. I guess all Slytherins really are snakes after all. In other news, water is wet.
I'm done with these clowns, I decide.
Without acknowledging Theo's statement, I've turned to my bag and have taken out my parchment and writing utensils. I really do need to work on assignments, as Snape suggested.
It occurs to me then that he gave me my wand back because he thought I might have cause to use it. The knowledge that it is safely tucked under my sleeve is more comforting than usual.
"Oh come on, Little Weasley," Theo says, sitting beside me, between myself and Malfoy. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Who says that I'm afraid?" I demand. Suddenly I'm furious—at him, or at myself, I'm not really sure, but my hands have balled themselves into fists all the same. "Do you think you're the only one who knows good hexes here, Nott?"
"No, we've all heard about your infamous Bat Bogey Hex." He's smiling, but his voice carries a hint of condescension.
"The Bat Bogey Hex can blow me," I snap. "You mess with me and I'll have slugs crawling out of every one of your orifices for weeks to come."
"I'd pay good money to see that," Malfoy says. He's grinning like the Cheshire Cat, but Theo's eyes have slightly narrowed as they stare into mine, and I can see that he believes me.
"I just got back from the infirmary and I'd rather stay clear of hexes, if it's all the same to you," he says carefully.
"She hexed Zacharias Smith right in McGonagall's face," Malfoy supplies. "If she loses her temper, man, you're totaled."
"Totally?" Theo's voice is light, but he's still eyeing me carefully.
"Totally," Malfoy confirms.
"Oh, do shut up," I say tiredly, wishing I could leave but knowing that will automatically earn me another detention. There's still more than an hour left before this torture ends.
I stand and walk over to the window, turning my back on the Slytherins even though it probably isn't wise. I fold my arms and stare out to the empty grounds, as the moon floats impassively above the clouds. It hasn't stopped raining.
It isn't long before I hear footsteps approaching me. Theo's taller than even Malfoy, practically towering over me as he moves to stand beside me, leaving a respectful distance between us.
"Come on, Weasley," he says quietly. "We've always gotten along, haven't we?"
Yeah. When no one else is around. Tosser.
I realize that there's no point in acting all butthurt because he's not the person I'd hoped he'd be. Have you noticed how showing someone that you're angry or disappointed requires a certain level of intimacy? Well we don't have that, so I keep my voice light. "Don't worry about it."
"So we're good?" he asks.
"I guess?"
He gives me a smile that under normal circumstances I would find charming. "We still have an hour before we get to go," he says conversationally. "Any ideas on how we can pass the time?"
I turn to look at him, but don't detect any sleaziness in his gaze or in his tone.
"Not really," I say at last. "How about you?"
"Well…" He grins. "There is one thing. But I don't know if we can get Draco to cooperate, and we sort of need him for this."
"What is it?" Malfoy calls out from his seat. I look at him past Theo's shoulder, and our eyes connect.
Theo turns to look at his housemate. "You won't like it."
OOO
We sit in a circle on the floor. The stone feels cool through the thin fabric of my skirt and tights. I consider casting a heating charm, but am not really interested in drawing more attention to myself than necessary by waving my wand at my bum.
Why am I doing this? Maybe to prove that I'm not afraid. Or to prove that I don't care. About Theo's duplicity, about Malfoy's mind games, about any of this.
The Slytherins' motives are also unclear to me. Theo seems fickle enough to do this for actual fun, and perhaps he's also curious. And Malfoy? He might be wanting to get back at me somehow.
"Truth or dare," the blond in question mutters, crisscrossing his long legs underneath him. "What are we, ten?"
"Come now, darling," Theo says, eliciting an eye roll from Malfoy. "Admit it, you're dying to know the dirty little secrets of our young Miss Weasley."
Malfoy gives me a speculative glance at this, and I expect him to take another shot at my supposed goodness and general lack of appeal. Surprisingly he says nothing.
I, in turn, opt for not contradicting Theo, although my dirtiest secret isn't really a secret—everyone with a pulse (and, well, the ghosts too) knows about my penchant for writing in evil diaries during first year, and there's nothing I intend to add on that score.
I watch as Theo places his wand in the center of our imperfect circle and gives it a spin.
"Truth or dare?" His wand comes to a halt, its tip pointing squarely at me. Of course.
"Truth," I say at once—this bloke made his best mate vomit frogs, so you won't see me volunteering for his dares any time soon; Gryffindors are courageous, not stupid.
Theo smiles predatorily at me, but it is Malfoy he speaks to in a stage whisper. "Do we know why she got detention?"
"Snape hates her," Malfoy replies in bored tones.
"Ah. In that case..." Turning towards me, the Slytherin surprises me with a rather innocent question. "What's your middle name?"
"Molly."
"Molly?" Malfoy repeats, sounding incredulous.
"Molly," I confirm. "It's a family name."
"It's a fat girl's name," Malfoy informs me dispassionately.
I bristle, but am aware that he's only trying to provoke me. Once more I display a coolness I do not feel. "Oh. Thank you?"
"You're welcome," he gives me another mocking bow, like that first time in detention.
Smug bastard.
"But I'm not fat," I bite out, plastering a pleasant smile on my face.
He lets his eyes run down my frame, and I do my best not to squirm.
"Well, not at present..."
"Children, enough," Theo scolds gently before I can retort. He hands me his wand. "Your turn to spin, love."
Trying to keep my annoyance off my face, I spin the wand and watch with some satisfaction as it points towards the blond.
"Truth or dare?" I demand.
Draco Malfoy meets my gaze squarely. "Truth."
"Why…" I hesitate, wondering if this will be once again going too far. I realize then that I'm uncertain of where the line lies, but am willing to toe it anyway. "Why did you get a term's worth of detention?"
"Two girls were found drunk and semi-nude in my room after a small gathering," he replies immediately, without any sort of hesitation. His pale eyes are on mine, and I can almost feel their weight. "They had alcohol intoxication and required medical care."
"That's how we got caught," Theo interjects. "It's too bad those slags couldn't hold their drink."
"No, it's too bad they were in there to begin with." Malfoy looks at his housemate coolly, his pale face impassive. "I still don't know what their names were, and I doubt if you do. Mostly I wonder if you'd been as indiscriminate with the guest list if it had been your room."
"I said I was sorry, mate. Snape practically skewered me as well, didn't he?" Theo protests. "Though I guess we're both lucky we didn't get thrown out."
Malfoy seems bored with this explanation, but he does not challenge it.
My eyes are darting from one boy to the other. This is so weird. I don't know what I expected hanging out with two Slytherins would be like, but this bickering and back-stabbing is so stereotypical that it's vastly amusing. To my surprise, the tension in the room dissipates as quickly as it appeared when Malfoy reaches over to spin Theo's wand.
"Wait," I say suddenly, without necessarily deciding to. "I have one more question."
"What? No. Wait your next turn." Theo actually wags a long finger in my face.
But Malfoy's looking back at me. His face remains devoid of expression, but his eyes—something about his eyes seems almost...curious?
"Go ahead," he says finally, giving me a slight nod.
"Did you gangbang?" I blurt out, my eyes still locked with his. "Those girls, did you gangbang them?"
Both Malfoy's and Theo's eyebrows shoot up.
"Are you crazy, Weasley?" For once he actually sounds irritated. "I didn't touch those girls. I have my standards, and they don't include unconscious seventh years, even when they're not covered in vomit."
"They undressed themselves!" Theo says quickly. "I can't believe that rumor's still going around."
"Where are the girls?" I continue. "Don't they get detention too?"
"That's two more questions!" Theo protests.
"Their parents transferred them out," Malfoy replies, ignoring him.
"They went back to Skankland," Theo mutters.
The blond Slytherin smirks. "Otherwise known as Beauxbatons."
I snort, thinking of Fleur.
"May we proceed?" Theo says to me, and I give a sarcastic wave of acquiescence.
Malfoy spins, and the wand points to his housemate. "Dare," he says resolutely, even before Malfoy asks.
"Regale Weasley with your best pick-up line."
Theo looks thoughtful, then languidly turns in my direction, his green eyes narrowed slightly as he beholds me in a way that makes me want to squirm. "Are you a Dementor?" he inquires in a husky whisper. "Cause you're sending chills down my spine..."
"Wow…" is all I can manage, as Malfoy's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
Theo tips an imaginary hat before spinning the wand once more, and this time it points to me.
"Truth or dare, gorgeous?"
"It's Ginny, gorgeous," I counter lightly. "And I pick...dare." Yeah, I know what I said before about his dares. Look, I'm not exactly known for thinking things through.
"Alright, then, Ginny." Theo displays a row of even, white teeth in a feral sort of grin. "Exchange an item of clothing with Draco."
My eyes dart to the fair-haired Slytherin. He raises a pale eyebrow, an unspoken "I'm up for it if you are" hanging in the air between us. If anything, this is what finally convinces me that Draco Malfoy's not a gangbanger.
I give an almost imperceptible nod. Soon my eyes are flicking all over him, trying to choose an article of clothing that I would actually be willing to take off myself.
Once again I note the broadness of his shoulders, the perfectly drawn proportions of his limbs and his torso, his neck, his golden head. That such a malicious toad should be so symmetrical and pleasing to the eye doesn't seem fair somehow.
"I think your shirt and jumper would be too small on me," he's murmuring in that deep velvety voice of his, and following the line of his gaze, I find myself folding my arms across my chest self consciously.
That blasted smirk again.
"How about our ties?" I offer, hoping to distract from what feels like a rapidly developing blush. I have no idea why my body responds to Malfoy the way it does, but my face is tingling and my forearms have broken into goosebumps. Fortunately, nobody seems to have noticed.
"Oooh, Draco in red and gold! How lovely." Theo nearly cackles.
"Ha, ha," his friend mutters dryly, preoccupied with loosening the knot in his green and silver striped tie with his long fingers. Piano player's fingers, my mum would say.
I can't believe this is really happening to me, I think, bewildered. I slip my own tie over my braided hair and toss it over to the Slytherin, accepting his in turn.
I watch as Draco Malfoy knots my scarlet and gold tie around his neck. Part of me expects him to keel over or break out in hives, but he seems to be comfortable with this development.
Ye gods, is this the same world I usually live in?
All at once the light echo of footsteps along the corridor is heard, and everyone's head swivels in the direction of the door as it hesitantly creaks open.
"Hello, boys," a pretty voice calls out cheerfully, as the brown-haired Slytherin known as Daphne Greengrass enters the room. "I brought you some cookies from dinner."
She hesitates only for a moment, taking in the scene with obvious surprise. After a heartbeat she saunters up to her housemates, carefully ignoring me.
"Hullo, Daph." Theo pats the space next to him on the floor. "Care to join us for an exciting game of truth or dare with the lovely Ginny?"
"You guys are playing with the Weasley girl?" Daphne says, as if said Weasley girl weren't sitting right in front of her. She wrinkles her cute button nose with distaste, and I imagine my fist connecting with it.
"Daphne dear," Malfoy says, before I can open my mouth. "Pansy isn't here so you needn't be such a cow."
I shoot him a surprised look, and see that he seems vaguely amused.
"Now have a seat and spin the wand, will you?"
"—Spin the wand, girl...Bow chicka wow wow!" Theo sings.
The Slytherin girl pouts at Malfoy's rebuke. She does as she is told, however, and to my dismay the wand points at me this time.
"Truth."
Daphne looks at me directly for the first time since arriving, and I meet her gaze squarely, keeping my face carefully devoid of expression.
"What happened between you and Potter?" she asks.
"Nothing," I reply, hoping I don't sound as relieved as I feel—thank Merlin that silly bint went for the obvious question, and not something that might actually embarrass me. "I fancied him when I was a kid, and then I stopped."
"But did you shag him?" Daphne demands. "Did you snog him, at least?"
"No, and no." I shrug, and I'm completely aware of Malfoy's eyes on me. "We never dated."
"But he fancies you," the Slytherin girl presses.
"I don't know about that…" I'll admit I've had my suspicions in the past, but I'd rather Bat Bogey Hex myself before I give some Slytherin groupie a soundbite that could snowball into outrageous gossip.
"That's it? How boring, Weasley," Theo interjects, sounding almost sad. I note the subtle switch from my given name back to "Weasley" now that a Slytherin girl is here. "I was hoping for juicy, scandalous details, a sordid love triangle with Granger or... something." Theo makes a vague hand gesture.
"I hardly think sordid is a word that goes with Harry," I say flatly.
Through all of this I'm certain of Draco Malfoy's steady gaze on me, and I'm unexpectedly pleased with the fact that I've held his full attention.
I'm about to risk a glance back at him, when I notice that Daphne Greengrass is staring intently at me.
All at once this game has stopped being fun and has become exponentially more dangerous. It doesn't sit well with me to reveal personal details to the likes of a Pansy Parkinson lackey, nor would I submit myself to the whim of such a person's dares.
"I'm out," I say suddenly and with finality, but then soften it with the excuse of needing to complete my Potions essay. Which, I mean, I do.
I sit at the back of the room, doodling on my parchment and willing the time to pass. Every so often I can hear Daphne's giggling or an exclamation from Theo.
At one point I see the Slytherin girl kneeling behind Malfoy, massaging the back of his neck and whether it's a dare or not, I don't know. And I can't say that I care at all.
Time drags on, but finally the clock strikes ten o'clock.
I leave quickly, not sparing my companions a glance after Filch grudgingly announces that we're free.
It isn't until I leave the Detention Chamber that I realize I still have Draco Malfoy's green and silver tie around my neck.
Author's Note: "It's a fat girl's name" and "If I lose my temper, man, you're totaled/Totally?" are quotes from The Breakfast Club. Gotta rack up those bonus points! :D