Chapter 8: Draco's Point of View
Draco feels sick with himself.
He had came back to the Slytherin Common Room after his abrupt meeting, nearly puking on the way in.
He doesn't know what he was thinking. He's supposed to despise Granger, not pity her and comfort her. He's supposed to perfect.
Perfectly perfect.
I can't be falling for a Mudblood. Impossible. Terrifying,
He thinks.
Yet it is true.
He gives out an angry exclamation and nearly slams into the wall.
No, it is not true, his mind thinks. I hate her.
Do I? His heart thinks.
Yes! She's a filthy, disgusting Mudblood. She will never have anything to do with me, his mind argues dumbly.
But you care for her! You comforted her! She can help you, his heart contradicts.
"No one can help me, so shut up!" He yells out loud, receiving several glares at his direction.
"Sorry ," he mutters, walking up to his dormitory.
He flops down on his bed, pushing the crumpled pieces of paper off carelessly. He had spent hours and hours trying to finish the essay, but soon he gave up.
"Draco? There you are. I've got to ask you something,"
Blaise appears in front of his bed.
"Uh huh."
"So-have you become a death eater yet?"
Draco instantly sits up. "What kind of question is that?"
"I mean, I've got it too," he rolls up his left sleeve revealing the tattoo. He grins proudly. "Just got it few days ago, during the Hogsmeade weekend."
Draco stares at it, horrified, remembering his own tattoo burned into his skin, before first term had started.
"Listen, Draco. Whatever you're up to, I want to help."
Draco shakes his head violently. "No. The Dark Lord gave this task to me, and me alone."
"But-"
"No," he repeats through gritted teeth. "I've got this on my own."
For a moment it looks like he's going to lunge at him, but he doesn't.
He shrugs. "Okay," he walks out the dormitory.
Now, after telling his best friend off, Draco feels even more sick inside.
"Oh God," he whispers to the ceiling, "When is this all going to end?"
The next morning, Draco is late for breakfast. He did not catch a bit of sleep the night before due to the nightmares and non-stop screaming and wailing going on in his mind.
He walks into the Great Hall, sulkily. He doesn't walk with his usual confident, proud stride though.
He plops into a seat beside Pansy. She looks up in shock, but quickly turns into anger and moves to a seat several feet away. Draco notices Blaise not making eye contact with him, or Crabbe staring at him as if he had grown three heads.
He sighs and puts a hand to his chin, staring at his food.
"Can you believe it?" Some annoying little Ravenclaw bickers to his friend in front of Draco. "Three more weeks, and first term is over! We'll be halfway through the year!"
Draco freezes as he listens to their conversation.
Three more weeks, term is over?
Can't be. Too soon.
He gets up from the table hurriedly and several people look up from the table.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Goyle says through a mouth stuffed with pie.
"No," he mutters. "No time."
He sprints out the Great Hall.
Three weeks. Three weeks. Got to kill him in three weeks. Fix the bloody cabinet in three weeks. Bring the Death Eaters in within three weeks, he thinks.
He rushes to the third corridor and runs down the hallway, turning at the giant mural.
He closes his eyes, standing in front of the wall.
It opens.
He slips in and reaches the large but vacant bathroom.
He faces the mirror, staring at himself.
He dabs the cold tap water at his face.
He cannot stop the tears from tearing down his cheeks.
Draco Malfoy is crying.
He stands there, his palms pressed against the basin, the tears dripping off his chin.
Until he sees someone in the mirror.
"Draco?"
He snaps his head around to see her.
Her.
He doesn't respond. She walks toward him and touches his shoulder lightly.
"What happened?"
He jerks away from her reach. "Don't touch me. I don't deserve your pity."
She ignores this and takes him by the shoulders so she can see him properly.
"Draco, you look so tired. Did you sleep?"
Her golden eyes twinkle with worry as they meet his silvery ones.
"No, I'm not tired," he says after a long time.
He adds, "I'm scared."