CHAPTER 3 – ACCIDENTS HAPPEN.
Draco woke with a start, drenched in sweat. He had not endured the most pleasant dreams last night, In fact, they were rather frightening, Though, of course, he would never admit that to anyone.
"You okay Draco?" Vincent asked while pulling his shirt over his head, he looked concerned for his friend.
He didn't quite know the answer himself. "I'm fine." Draco said shortly, turning around and banging his head on the bed post.
"Crap!" He seethed in a whisper, most of the others in his dorm were asleep. Draco let out a annoyed sigh and got out of bed, running a hand through his morning hair. On the way to the bathroom, Draco caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he looked rough, paler than usual.
He moaned as he walked into the shower room, he was so tired. Draco had at least two hours of sleep last night, too much was on his mind, well, one thing in particular.
He quickly shook his head, he would not start that trail of thought again, Not yet.
Draco quickly stripped down and got into the showers, he was hoping this would calm him down slightly. It didn't do any good, the hot water was no help to him. All of his muscles still remained tensed, he just couldn't seem to relax. Draco gave up with that idea quickly and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it securely around his waist. Once again, he ran a hand through his now wet hair. He took another towel and scrubbed it on his hair in attempt to make it a little drier.
After he was totally dry he dressed himself and prepared his books for the lessons today, not like he really cared about all that stuff right now.
"You were talking in your sleep last night." Goyle said casually as they were making their way to Potions.
Draco stopped short. "What?" He asked quite loudly, turning to stare incredulously at him.
Gregory just shrugged. "Just mumbling things, You kept saying "This cant be happening. Not her. Anyone but her."" He recited, starting to walk again.
He froze, he had said that out loud? He hadn't intended that anyone would know and certainly not hear about his nightmare last night.
"Oh." Was all he could choke out before they had to start running to Potions, they were going to be incredibly late.
"Nice of you to join us Mr Malfoy and Mr Goyle. You will stay five minutes at the end of the class." Professor Slughorn pronounced once they came through the door, they both groaned and sat down at their seats.
Potions dragged, Draco had got told off many times for being distracted and not answering when he was spoken too, His mind was elsewhere at the moment.
Every lesson was the same, Draco not paying attention then getting told off, Over and over again. It actually started to get rather boring.
At Lunch time he could not help but let his eyes drift over to the red haired beauty, all his friends nudged and pinched him. What must they have thought? He was, after all, staring at a Weasley, A Gryffindor!
He quickly set his eyes on his food, determined not to look up again, This was getting out of hand.
"Hey Draco, What's up with you?" Blaise asked from further up the table, frowning at the younger Slytherin.
Draco bit his lip, quickly trying to think of a reasonable excuse for his behaviour. "I feel sick, that's all." He covered up, faking a cough, if he was going to lie, he might as well make it convincing.
Blaise nodded, seeming to understand now. "Why don't you go to the hospital wing?" He asked, his voice almost sounded superior though Draco didn't blame him, if he were in Blaise's position, he would probably act the same way.
He shrugged a little, he wouldn't take this feeble lie to that extent.
The rest of the afternoon was a faint blur, he could hardly remember what happened five minutes ago. None of it had any significance to him now. His one significance was out of bounds; Her.
Draco finally admitted to himself, he liked her, there was no doubt about it. He let out a defeated sigh before the bell rang to indicate the end of lessons for today. He stood up, stuffing his Defence Against the Dark arts book in his bag and swiftly left the room without talking to anyone; he had nothing he felt the need to say.
Then someone shoved past him and his eyes got a glimpse of dark red hair, his stomach twisted with hope as he turned to see if it was her.
Disappointment crashed down on him as he noticed it was her brother, Ronald. "Oh, It's you," He said, bitterness traced clearly in his tone. Draco was slightly surprised by his reaction, his face contorted with anger; he must have had a bad day or something.
"Shut up, Malfoy! You think your so much better than everyone else just because your pure blood!" He said, his voice a little louder than conversational tone.
Draco glared an ice cold glare at him before replying. "At least I'm not a blood traitor," He said in a silk smooth voice, a smirk placed on his perfect features now.
His expression went blank as he saw who had just arrived next to Weasley, judging by her facial expression, she had heard the end of the conversation.
Ginny's eyes teared up as she walked fiercely in the way of her common room, shoving into his shoulder on purpose. He cursed under his breath and turned to follow her. Potter had pulled Ron away by now, being the heroic idiot he was.
"Ginny, I-" He called after her, she did what he did not expect. She turned around and smiled sarcastically.
"You what? I guess your just a completely different person around different people." She muttered darkly, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Draco shook his head, frowning in what seemed to be desperation. Desperation for her to understand that he didn't mean it. "I didn't mean it!" He voiced his thoughts. "It was an accident, Accidents-" He was cut off.
"Accidents happen, Right?" Ginny said hotly, raising her eyebrows at him. "Don't bother going to the lake tonight," She murmured quietly before turning around and storming off.
Draco closed his eyes in frustration before swiftly turning round to trudge his way back to his common room, Well done Draco, perfect. Have fun sorting this one out, He thought, muttering the password miserably before dragging his feet to his dormitory and falling onto his bed.
Great days work, His thoughts were sarcastic, accusing; great.