Safe

Chapter 4: Forgiveness

Forgiveness is an awful thing. When you hate someone, they should hate you back for tormenting them for their entire childhood. You wouldn't want them to forgive you. You'd become soft. Forgiveness is terrible. When you persecute someone for their blood status, they should fear you. When they don't show fear, they clearly show hate. Once they forgive you, they no longer fear you. Or hate you. Forgiveness is scary. Because it usually leads to friendship. Or more.

"I forgive you."

Those were Granger's words last night. Draco came back to check on her (like he promised on the first day) and she said them. He didn't know if she was dreaming, or if she sensed him come in. Either way Draco knew she was talking to - or about - him. He didn't know what to think about it. What would he say when he checked on her in the morning? Would she even remember what she said? How would she react if she did remember?

Draco rested his head on the door, hand on the knob, taking breaths before he entered. He twisted the knob slowly and pushed the door open. Granger was sitting up, facing him with a pale face. She clutched her stomach and her legs were crossed. There were stains of teardrops on her face. He closed the door and walked over to her, keeping his distance. Her gaze did not follow him, but kept straight ahead.

Draco walked around her a full circle before she finally spoke, still not looking at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He was stunned. What was she talking about? There were a million things he hadn't told her. It was something negative, of course. She looked as though she would retch. Her hair was slightly bushy again, it still falling over her shoulders. Draco noticed she wasn't holding her stomach. She was gripping her left arm with her right hand.

Her left arm...

Granger had pulled her sleeve up. She had seen it. The one thing Draco didn't want her to see. The one thing he couldn't heal. The foul word his aunt had carved into her skin. The word that Draco no longer associated with Granger. She was a witch, and a damn good one too.

"Why didn't you tell me, Malfoy?" Her voice was hardened, and full of anger.

"Do you remember Monday?" Draco asked, thinking that she may have remembered that day when she saw her Mark.

She shook her head again, still looking across the room at the door. "No, but you could have at least told me about this thing I have on my arm!"

"It had to do with Monday, Granger! I need you to remember!"

"Well, I don't. So you might as well just tell me."

Draco finally stood in her direct line of sight, forcing her unmoving form to look at him. "I can't, and I won't. Nothing you say will make me. I will not talk about what's on your arm-"

"Bloody say it!" she yelled, standing up and yanking up her sleeve to her elbow, revealing it. "I know you are dying to say the word, Malfoy, so just do it!"

He didn't rise to her bait. He growled at her, and threw the door open. He stormed back into his room, driving his hands through his hair. He slammed the door shut just as his opened, Godfrey standing in the doorway with his plate of food for Granger. His bat-like ears wiggled at his master's furious attitude. Draco tried to calm down, but the thoughts of Granger swamped his mind.

"Godfrey brought the food Master Draco asked for, sir!" he squealed, waiting to see what Draco would do.

Draco did not want to go back in the library. He was seething with rage. "Shut the door, Godfrey." The elf set the tray on the floor, turned around, and closed the door. "Good. Now, listen. This is very important."