The Laws Have Changed - Chapter 2
"You know I'm not a good person."
She sighed, irritated at his insistence. "So I've been told," she replied, flipping through the book she brought with her.
It was the fourth time she found him in the Room of Requirement in the span of almost two weeks. They had an unspoken agreement to avoid talk of their conversations when around others and made efforts to not bump into each other in between classes.
Which was fine by him since he was still trying to figure out what the hell it meant that he completed the first prerequisite. He was expecting further explanation after the announcement. Maybe not in his head, but at least an owl or something to make him feel like he wasn't going crazy. At first, he couldn't figure out what had fallen into place to meet whatever conditions he had to meet. He began comparing his previous reality with this new one and the answer came to him during their second meeting. It had something to do with her.
He had tried plying her for information, curious if she had also noticed anything different. She laughed when he asked, replying that their weird civility was a new experience, but there was nothing else out of the ordinary. Which meant that he was the only one who knew anything about his new situation.
He tried driving her away during that second meeting, not wanting to make peace with the fact that he might actually need her help in cheating his death. She was steadfast, though; stubborn in her insistence that he shouldn't push people away. He begrudgingly knew she was right, but he would never tell her that. He already hated himself for liking how she looked when she smirked and he didn't need her constantly looking smug whenever she was around.
He also hated to admit that he did enjoy the quiet company she provided. To the point where he didn't even bother asking her how she got past Crabbe and Goyle. She continued to lounge in the armchair she had brought over that first time and alternated between bemoaning various topics (like her tumultuous relationship with Dean Thomas or her classes) and reading. She never prodded him for information and he was content to listen. He realized it helped ease his growing stress to listen to her prattle on about anything and everything while he had his silent existential crises. Better her than Moaning Myrtle, at any rate.
"Ugh," she slammed her book shut, shivering as she did so.
"You okay over there?"
"I am never trusting Lavender for book recommendations ever again."
He tried repressing his laughter. He knew very well of the kinds of possible reading material the older Gryffindor may have recommended. She reminded him of Pansy before she kind of sobered up that year. Which was such a blessing as he had been growing weary of her cloying advances. Now that she wasn't trying to pester him about what to name their children, he found that Pansy actually made for decent company.
"What did she recommend?"
"Some book by a Muggle author. It's called Lolita. I feel so uncomfortable reading it and I'm loathe to admit that it is, unfortunately, very well written." She made a face to indicate her disgust.
"What's uncomfortable about it?" They had fallen into their normal pattern. She would bring up some topic and he would either let her speak until she was satisfied, or he would ask leading questions to get her to her point. The minimal brain effort exuded was a nice change for him. He always had a hard time shutting things off.
"Okay, so, I just finished a section where the main character — some bloke who's almost forty — feels up the titular character, who's twelve. If my understanding of the scene is correct, he spends part of it trying to hide his hard on and I think he actually comes in his pants before she runs off." Another shiver of distain. "I can't believe Lavender called this a love story. I'm going to tell her she needs to see a therapist for her daddy issues."
He lost his composure at that, letting out a loud bark of a laugh, which only caused her to devolve into a fit of giggles.
Now quieted to chuckles and smiles, he was surprised to see her open the book again.
"I thought you were disturbed by that book."
"Oh, I am, but now I'm reading it out of spite. If I plan on hating something, I'd like to be well-informed."
"I suppose I'm the exception?" His eyebrow was raised, signaling a challenge.
She closed the small novel, tilting her head up in thought; a common tic of hers he noticed. She exhaled through her nose. "I haven't decided yet."
"Even though I've told you time and again that I'm not a good person?"
She finally looked down, letting her mouth curl up into a small smile. "My first year taught me that there is such a thing as a morally grey area. Because I'm not a good person, either."
"You wouldn't be sitting here if you knew what I was doing."
He couldn't reveal everything to her, but part of his plan was already being put into motion and he needed her gone. He had violently thrown up the first Hogsmeade weekend; disgusted with himself for using the Imperious Curse again on Madame Rosmerta. He hated how he felt the first time he had to do it, but doing it once more in this new life brought up a mouthful of bile. He had run to the nearest bathroom and purged anything that might've been in his stomach. He couldn't trust himself to eat that morning and the water he forced down his throat at breakfast left him along with the bile. When he walked over to the sink, his eyes were bloodshot and small blood vessels had popped on his eyelids due to the force of his stomach's upheaval. In that moment, he was beginning to feel like dying was what he deserved and her involvement in his life would do fuck all to change that.
"You might be right, but, as a reminder, I almost killed four people when I was eleven. I know what it's like to be coerced to the point of desperation."
"What makes you think I'm desperate?" he sneered. Her words assaulted him with their casual tone. She said them as though they were some interesting little factoid about their surroundings. How could she be so nonchalant about her admission?
He scrunched his eyes shut and pressed the heels of his palms into them. Damned Room of Requirement. He didn't need her sympathy! He just need her to leave him alone. He needed everyone to leave him alone. He was chosen for the task ahead of him and he was going to actually complete it this time. It was the only solution he could think of to prevent his death in this life.
"Because I was." Her voice sounded much closer than it normally did. He opened his eyes to see her leaning so far forward in front of him that her face was inches from his own. She righted herself, looking down at him with a kind of pity he wasn't sure he liked. "Look, Malfoy, I'm obviously not expecting your life story here, but like I told you the first time, it's clear something is going on with you. When I first saw you here, I was expecting myself to react the way Harry normally does whenever he sees you. But I wasn't lying when I said you reminded me of myself during my first year and that made me rethink a lot of the things Harry's been ranting about recently."
"What's your point, Weasley?"
"My point is that I've been trying to get you to understand that you're not an inherently bad person. So enough with the 'woe is me' act and, if you must, go back to the pasty, pointy-faced git you normally are." She paused, head tilted and eyes toward the ceiling again. "I'll even let you say something rude about my family. As a treat."
He crossed his arms as she spoke and dammit if he wasn't tempted to laugh. Was she always this straight-forward?
He then matched the smirk she was now giving him. She really did look entirely too smug whenever she smirked. "And what if I can't at this point?"
"Just because you think there's some kind of cosmic law binding you to your fate, doesn't mean you have to follow it. You can be like the twins and find loopholes. I heard you were one of the smartest in your year before you purposefully let your grades slip." Before he could protest her last comment, she placed her index finger in between his now scrunched brows and gently pushed his head back. "Maybe try using that big, beautiful brain of yours to find those loopholes."
He couldn't help the laughter that erupted from his lips as his head righted itself. "You just called me beautiful."
She chuckled, finding it interesting that he didn't look so pointy when his face relaxed. "I said your brain was beautiful. Big difference there. If I could borrow your brain for Potions, Slughorn might actually get bored of me and then I'd be out of his stupid Slug Club."
"So borrow it."
Her eyes went wide as she blinked rapidly. She wasn't expecting that. "Are you serious?"
"I might be."
"What's in it for you?" Her eyes had narrowed down to slits.
"Being around you might help me find those loopholes you said I should find."
He wasn't sure why she insisted she needed his help. He even told her as much when they met for the sixth time under the guise of tutoring.
"I promise you, Malfoy, I was absolute shit before you started helping me."
He rolled his eyes at her insistence, which only caused her to frustratedly protest in response.
"Why would I lie about this, hm?"
She placed her hands on her hips as she stood there; defiant in her stance and gaze, as though she wanted him to fight her on her words. It seemed as though his defenses were being lowered with each meeting. He could feel himself developing a strange sensation the longer he was in her presence.
At times he would feel weightless; as though the pressures forced upon him were suddenly removed from his back and chest. It was as if he could move about as he once did before he had ever learned what it mean to follow in his father's footsteps. It was as if he had never died in the first place and he was still in his initial timeline. It was a powerful feeling. It was both nostalgic and unfamiliar — like a lost memory that had been forced into the deep recesses of his mind that was trying to break free. Trying to remind him of a time that he wasn't sure had ever existed for him in either life.
But being around her also made him feel like the mythical Atlas; bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, while she sat on top, watching him struggle from her perch high above him. This was the feeling he had been used to since the summer before his sixth year. He was trying to keep everything in his life from falling apart as others around him watched his balancing act from the safety of the heavens above.
He took a step back in surprise when she leaned forward to place her face in front of his.
He focused back in on her as she laughed; hating the way he could feel the tops of his cheeks burn from the sudden closeness.
"You didn't hear a single blessed thing I just said, did you?"
He blinked a couple of times to try to gather his wits again. He was getting the weird feelings once more, but now it was a weird mix of the lightness and the heaviness. Either way, the combination made it feel like a burden was still being placed on him and he didn't want to think about what that might mean for her involvement in his life.
"Do I have your attention again?" she asked, eyes alight with amusement.
He nodded, knowing that if he didn't focus back in, she would continue to lightly tease him.
"Like I was trying to tell you before your thoughts drifted away, you're actually really good at explaining things to me."
"I don't think I do anything different from what the professors do," he replied with a shrug.
"And I'm telling you that you do. I'm the kind of person that sometimes needs to know the 'why' when I'm learning about something. Why would I prepare or do something this one specific way? Or why can I kind of half-ass this procedure, but not another? Not every professor gives me that, or they'll get annoyed if I find that their explanation wasn't sufficient enough for me. You, on the other hand, have been surprisingly patient, even though I know some of my questions probably irritate the ever-loving shit out of you."
He wanted to laugh at her words. The only reason why he was so patient with her was because he was either too tired to argue over her line of questioning, or he was having a moment of resignation at the fact that she might be necessary to his survival in this second chance at life. But he supposed he was content with letting her think that he'd somehow become more benevolent after five years of tormenting her brother and his friends.
When he turned to reply, he realized that she was standing much closer to him than he would've liked.
That was another thing he wasn't sure he was a fan of during their continued meetings. She would slowly invade his personal space as though she were testing his limits. She seemed to mean nothing by it, but she would surprise him by suddenly getting much closer to him than he thought she'd be comfortable with. Or she'd occasionally touch him in an innocent way — absent-mindedly brushing a hand up against his when she was reaching for something during one of their tutoring sessions, asking him to physically guide her hand to stir something in her cauldron to make sure she got the motion just right, poking him to get his attention.
If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was trying to provoke a negative reaction from him to see if he would treat her how he used to.
"Why would professors get mad at you for your questions? When Snape was still teaching Potions, I would ask him questions similar to those you've asked me and he answered me well enough." He tried to avert her gaze. She was so close that he could see the little glint of gold in her hair; something he normally couldn't notice in the subdued florescent lighting.
She scoffed, but even that held a smile in it. "Of course Professor Snape would let you pick his brain about Potions. You're his favorite."
He chuckled. "I can promise you that I'm not Severus's favorite this year. His detentions tell me otherwise."
"You literally just called him by his first name!" she replied incredulously. "And I'm sure the detentions you get from him are just you sitting there, being forced to do your homework."
He could feel his ears turn pink as he ignored her laugher. She was too bloody observant for her own good and she was too goddamn intuitive for his liking. At this rate, she was going to figure out his entire plan for this year before he even had a chance to act on it.
"Fine," he huffed, moving to sit down in his normal chair to gain some distance from her. "Name one thing that I've explained to you that Professor Snape has refused to explain to you before Slughorn took over."
"Easy." She paused to hop up onto the table they had been using as a makeshift desk. "I've never understood why he required us to be so precise when cutting up our ingredients. Which always frustrated me because I could understand the precision behind measurements in potions formulas. But it was your explanation yesterday that finally made the most sense. I don't know why it never occurred to me to think of potion making like cooking, but when you made that connection for me, it was like a bunch of different things started to fall into place. And now I understand that, just as in cooking, if you want chopped up ingredients to brew more evenly in a potion, they should be around the same size."
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? I would've thought all Weasley children knew their way around a kitchen."
She narrowed her eyes at his words and he knew she was trying to determine if he was making some kind of disparaging remark against her family. His expression must've been neutral enough to satisfy the unspoken question.
"Surprisingly, we don't. We sometimes help, but my mum wields her wooden spoon like an iron fist in a velvet glove. She'll allow us to help until we become a nuisance."
"So should I learn to not accept offerings of food from you?" he asked with a smirk.
"I dunno, Malfoy. I tend to think that I'm not too bad at preparing a decent meal, but I don't know if I can be held responsible for my actions if you give me a reason to be annoyed with you."
He leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers to rest on his stomach. He could only feel the weightlessness again. He was able to recognize part of it this time, though. It was the lightness of being that came from a comfortable familiarity. Consciously, he thought he was allowing it because she inadvertently helped him fulfill his first prerequisite. He was too scared to dig deeper though. This surface level acquaintanceship was plenty for him. He could still have her in his peripheral orbit and benefit from the occasional moments when she was briefly pulled closer to him.
But he knew he needed to make a decision.
Should he let her get closer? Or was her involvement in the first prerequisite simply a fluke?
A/N - Holy shit, y'all, I just first have to say THANK YOU for the response y'all have given this story! I'm so excited and happy to see so many folks enjoy the first chapter. It actually helped me realize that I wanted to include certain things to kind of help with the mystery elements, so those should be popping up in the next few chapters lol.
I also need to make sure I thank the lovely folks on the Draco x Ginny Discord server who encouraged me to rip the band aid off for the first chapter of this story and for continuing to support my works. ?
Thank you to everyone for reading and please leave a review if you see fit!