Chapter Two

Everything you said

"And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they are going through"-David Bowie.

The next few days passed in a painful, black blur. An impenetrable darkness had settled all around me, dulling my sense and ensconcing me in a bubble. I felt dizzy, exhausted and nauseous during my waking moments and even during the hours that I should have been sleeping. My eyes were constantly out of focus as I replayed every word we had ever spoken to each other, every look we had shared, everything and anything that mught have meant more than I thought it had at the time. Anything that would explain to me what was going on.

I came up short every time. When I thought back to all the times he had kissed me, his fingers fumbling clumsily at my shirt, the heat that I thought was driving him pulsating between us only for him to pull away abruptly and watch my reaction sheepishly. Stupidly and moronically, I would grin back at him completely certain and secure in the knowledge that he was only guilty because of what we had been about to do out of respect for me. How naive. Now, I realised he had thought he was taking advantage because he didn't really want to touch me like that. He wasn't happy to be with me but each time I had tilted my head up to kiss him, he had gotten carried away.

I felt sick, I thought it had been respect because we had never discussed...doing...'that'. I had never really felt ready but I figured that if it had come to that, I would have gone through with it. I mean after all, it was Ron and that was okay. Wasn't it? I didn't know anymore.
The ball in my stomach squeezed tightly and I swallowed back the urge to vomit, the ball of bile gurgling menacingly at me from where it had taken refuge deep in my gut since the break-up. I sighed and tried to pull my thoughts back into History of Magic.

Not that Binns would have noticed if I just collapsed onto the floor and fallen asleep where I lay, his toneless, monotonous drone would continue on and on ceaselessly. What an unbelievably stupid class, I hadn't taken notes in days because I could no longer bring myself to care. That was why when the little white paper note floated slowly in front of me, landing neatly on my desk, it caught my full attention.

I was blatantly unaware of the stares emanating from the rest of the class. If I had taken that moment to look around, the sight I would have seen would have struck me as highly amusing. My fellow Gryffindor's were watching me with numb horror, my Slytherin peers staring with an expectant amusement, all but one of them that is. Malfoy's face was more of curiousity mingled with mild skepticism. His look would have confused me greatly.

Thankfully, I didn't look up. I didn't realise that the class knew something I so clearly did not. So, when I picked up the note finally it didn't occur to me thatit might not be for me, that I may not want to read the words upon it.

Upon first glance, I could discern two types of handwriting. The first half of the note was filled with loopyish, neat handwriting and the odd sickly saccharine love heart scribbled here and there. This should have been my first clue that it wasn't for me but unfortunately, my dull brain was thinking too slowly these days.

So judging by our 'conversation' last night, it still gives me shivers to think of it, I think it is time for us to come clean. I mean, now that you're sorry business with her is all behind you maybe we could finally go public? I thought of you last night after I went to bed by the way xxx

My eyebrows raised in amusement, realising of course now that this note had never been meant for my eyes but before I could fold it back up and find its rightful owner, my eyes fell upon the untidy scrawl that had been written in reply underneath. The unmistakable scrawl that I had spent years correcting and scribbling through that made my breath catch in my throat and my insides plummet to the ground because he had written it.

Ron's reply was simple but coherent.

I know and I promise we will soon, remind me to thank Malfoy later for both of us.

I closed my eyes, the note still in my trembling hand because for some reason I couldn't quite bring myself to crumple it up. I re-read his response needing to know just how much he hated me, how easily he had forgotten me and found someone else to take my place. I needn't have worried about getting sick anymore, the ball in my stomach had turned to ice. A thick, heavy ball of ice that made my blood run cold.
There it was again in his reply, the knowledge forcibly ramming itself down my throat, that Malfoy had something to do with my heartbreak and Ron was grateful.

I raised my head finally and realised just how many eyes were still upon me, I had failed to notice the palpable silence in the classroom and now it was the only thing I could think about. Blank faces stared back at me, blinking stupidly as if they had all just walked into the sun and were being blinded. They waited, breath baited, waited to see what I would do next. Maybe explode where I sat or something else equally as dramatic?

I surveyed the room slowly, my eyes narrowing and schooling my face into a mask of derision. My eyes found Ron's first, he looked away immediately, turning back into his desk and slouching down so low as if he could just disappear. He certainly wasn't as confident as he sounded on paper.

My gaze roved over the other students, searching for something that I wasn't even sure I wanted to see or sure what it would look like but fortunately, or unfortunately, I found it without straining myself too hard. Lavender was turned in her seat towards me, her face the epitomy of guilt and pity but it was her eyes that drew me in. They were all wrong, they were too bright, too vibrant as if I had just seen a splash of red in a world filled with black and grey and the feeling in them didn't match her face, they were happy.

Part of me died a little inside just then, he had thrown me away telling me I was 'impossible to love' over something Malfoy had said and then proceeded to replace me with the most insipid, earth shatteringly moronic. A few of the Slytherin's sniggered behind their hands and I heard Pansy audibly say 'oh how embarrassing' and that was when I saw his face.

Malfoy hadn't turned in his desk to stare at me the way everyone else had, instead he looked extremely comfortable and content. His eyebrows were raised as if he was asking me a silent question, as if he was surprised by the way I was behaving, but I couldn't discern his expression to say for certain. His blonde hair fell into his striking grey eyes which never removed themselves from my face. It seemed that he was curious about my reaction, just as much as everybody else but why? Why would Malfoy care what happened to me or how I felt about what was happening?

My mouth opened slightly when I realised just how much everyone else had known, while I had been sitting here, wallowing in my inner turmoil, Lavender and Ron had been passing notes finally revelling in their freedom to be a couple and the whole class had noticed.
Malfoy's eyes moved, they flickered to the door and back to my face, his head subtley motioning the same way. He was telling me to go, to get out of here before I decided to do anything. He did it again, this time impatiently, sitting forward in his desk the white shirt sleeves that had been rolled up showing me that he was flexing his arms in annoyance.

I nodded briefly, my face blank, unaware as to why he was helping me because whether he knew it or not that is what he was doing. By giving me direction, I could switch my brain back on enough to get out of here.

I calmly dropped my gaze, even with his face still burning in my mind, sent the note flying to Lavender which she duly caught, her eyes watching me warily. Then I packed my things away, slowly and carefully before finally moving out of my seat and walking out of the classroom. Nobody tried to stop me, although I noticed Malfoy move forward in his seat as I passed as if he wanted to say something and then he thought the better of it, closing his mouth, leaning back again and watching me go.

The rest of the class averted their eyes as if my complete embarrassment and humiliation was uncomfortable for them to witness, they who had been thoroughly in the loop while I had been enclosed in my self-contained bubble. I was being punished for being so blind it seemed.
I walked slowly back to my dorm, dropped my bag, slipped off my shoes and without undressing crawled beneath the sheets, trying to ignore the fact that I couldn't get Malfoy out of my head, before allowing my black ball of despair to swallow me whole and all the while one word swirled confusedly around my head.

Malfoy...