Stronger Chapter Twelve

Stronger

By: Provocative Envy

OOO

Author’s Note: I apologize for my irregularity in updating and the shortness of this chapter. And since I have nothing much else to add to this, I’ll just stop.

OOO

CHAPTER TWELVE

The silence in the library was cold and it was empty, the mountains of books and the absence of people enhancing its austerity; she sat across from me, her lips pulled into what might have been a smile and her eyes lifeless with indifference.

“Don’t you care?” I asked her desperately, mentally begging her to show emotion, to act like I mattered.

“Not particularly,” she shrugged, her quill poised above a piece of parchment.

I stared at her in disbelief.

“You don’t care,” I repeated, my senses dull.

“What, did you think I would?” she inquired, a ghost of a smirk alighting her features, bathing her skin in the candlelight of cruelty.

I snapped my mouth shut, pleading with whatever higher power there was that she wouldn’t, no, couldn’t hear my heart break.

“But Pansy, I--” I broke off, my words lodged in my steadily constricting throat.

“Yes, Draco? Was there something else you wished to say? I’ll be far more interested if it’s related to the weather, perhaps,” she suggested mildly, her amusement akin to a knife being twisted in my chest.

“I love you, Pansy. I love you and that’s all you can say to me?”

“What do you want me to do? Lie?” she demanded, a glimmer of impatience tingeing her voice.

“Yes! I want you to lie, I want you to scream, I want you to pretend, just for a moment, that you feel something,” I finally shouted, my lungs burning as I forgot to breathe.

“Dearest Draco,” she murmured, clearly pitying me.

“Suddenly I’m dear?” I intoned sarcastically, praying she couldn’t see through my mask made of irony.

“You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“Apathy is love, Draco.”

And then she laughed, and all I could do was watch the surface of the table come closer and closer as I swayed forward, my hands held out to break my fall; and then the side of my head collided with the corner of the table, and in a half a second, her triumphant grin was all that was left.

OOO

My sheets were tangled around my legs and my body was slick with sweat; my hair felt sticky and my fingers were trembling. I glanced around, taking in the snoring forms of the other boys and the chilling darkness of our dormitory: it was the middle of the night, and I couldn’t even ignore my hellish existence in my sleep any longer.

I grabbed a jumper and some shoes, running a hand through my mussed hair and stepping noiselessly into the Slytherin common room. I made my way to the front of the castle, stopping at corners to listen for Filch and continuing on until I was standing in front of the lake, the quietude oddly disarming.

I sank down onto a rock, wishing that I could just ignore everything and everyone, that I could escape somewhere where the past couldn’t find me, couldn’t remind me. I wanted to erase Pansy and that horrible day in Hogsmeade from my mind, wanted to banish it to the farthest corners of my memory and let it rot.

Until I heard footsteps.

I whipped my head around and saw Granger, her jaw dropped slightly and her eyes relaying her embarrassment. She was clad in nothing but a nightgown and a jacket, and her cheeks were tearstained.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she asked me haughtily.

“I would ask you the same, but such a pointless exchange seems juvenile.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she persisted after a moment’s hesitation.

“I had a dreadful nightmare, Granger, and since I don’t have Daddy Dearest to run to I thought the giant squid would be a fine substitute,” I snapped, unwilling to be honest with her.

She sighed, and the sound was so achingly soft, so achingly gentle, I was nearly undone.

“Of course, Malfoy. Of course.”

She walked over to the edge of the water and crossed her arms over her chest while I did nothing but watch.

“What did you mean when you said I was wrong yesterday?” I finally whispered, angry with myself for giving in to my curiosity.

“What?” she blinked.

“What did you mean?” I repeated edgily.

“I suppose,” she said slowly, “that I meant you were wrong.”

I snorted and leapt to feet, disappointment washing over me and humiliation not far behind.

“Of course. How silly of me to think there might have been a deeper meaning in anything you said. Naturally, you stick to facts, right?”

“Malfoy. Wait,” she called out softly.

“What do you want?” I bit out, my back still turned.

“What I meant, was that you were wrong about what you said the other day. About not being able to take it back.”

I didn’t say anything, just waited for her to continue.

“There’s always a second chance. One mistake shouldn’t ruin your entire life for you.”

I remained still, willing her conviction to seep into me a little bit. She sounded so sure of herself, so certain that she was right; she sounded like she knew what she was talking about, like she could predict the future and misery wasn’t in mine.

Not if I didn’t want it to be.

“Clearly you’ve never met the Dark Lord, then. He makes every mistake count,” I replied tightly, unwilling to sound grateful; unwilling to heed her advice.

Unwilling to let her know she had just changed my life.

OOO