The Consequence of Ambition

Equally Broken

Draco had left me unconscious on the floor. He had later come to the hospital wing. He was angry, and then broken, and then he apologised. I don't think he meant it.

Lana had studied this entry in the journal over and over again, as if by looking at her own words scrawled across the page, she could somehow figure him out. It was a strange encounter, one of the strangest she had ever had, but regardless of that, she had made a promise that night to not tell a soul, and since Gryffindors are so loyal, she had stuck to that. Not even Harry Ron and Hermione knew, granted Hermione had asked her about a million questions when she had got back. She had been back from the hospital a week and yet Hermione's questions never ended, just like the stinging on the back of her scalp and on her shoulder. Lying in bed alone with her thoughts, the gentle sound of Hermiones sleepy breathing from across the room, and the words from her journal flashing behind her eyes she suddenly became aware of the pain again. It wasn't a particularly bad pain, more of a vague stinging on the skin of her shoulder and her scalp. Pulling down the shoulder of her top she examined the tiny scars that lay etched on her skin and she ran her fingers along them , remembering how Draco had dug in his nails in such a violently desperate attempt to get her to listen. She resented herself for allowing her thoughts to be constantly occupied by him, and now she had his branding on her own body. It was like the dark mark, filled with only bad intentions, in-erasable, and a grim reminder of someone clearly much more powerful than her. Or was that completely true? The other night it seemed she was the one with the power, the one in control.

"Stop thinking about it" she hissed silently so only the shadows of the dark room would hear. She was suddenly and overwhelmingly horrified by the idea of the scars on her shoulder. So small and insignificant but a constant reminder of him. Clambering out of bed she ran as quietly as her shaking body would allow her to the bathroom where she shut and locked the door behind her. Within seconds she had her hands under the tap and began splashing the freezing water onto her shoulder, scrubbing viciously at the marks as if they were just going to wipe away like a dash of spilt paint.

"Come off! Please come off" she hissed, rubbing at her arm harder and harder until the freshly healed skin began to break and peel away revealing small trickles of blood.

"Fuck you Malfoy" as if somehow he would hear her.

"Just get out of my head get out of my thoughts" she kept scrubbing to no avail, it just left her fingertips stained with her own blood. She sighed and stopped to stare at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale with dark indents under her eyes, the physical reminder that nowadays she spent more time thinking than sleeping. Her hair had lost its bounce and seemed to lie flatly along her shoulders and her eyes looked distant. Like she was there in person but her mind was falling down a dark rabbit hole of endless thoughts. Of him. Her skin was branded and her mind was poisoned. She snorted out loud at the ridiculousness of her own dramatics. What was wrong with her? It turned into a giggle which turned into a laugh which turned into a cry until she was staring at her reflection laughing at the silly little girl she saw staring back at her, and crying because she thought she was so much more than that silly little girl.

"Alohamora" the door swung open to reveal Hermione half asleep, robe clutched around her with her left hand, and wand outstretched in her right.

"What on earth are you doing it's the middle of the night and I-" she paused momentarily to take in the somewhat disheveled appearance of the girl in front of her. "Were you crying?"

"No I was laughing"

"Well would you care to explain what could possibly be so funny at 3 in the morning because...Lana you're bleeding?" She stared at the little trickles of blood pooling on her shoulder and at the tips of her fingers stained red.