Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Fifty-Three

Summer was nearing quickly, and the Apparition test in March was upon us before we knew it. However, Draco and I were too young to take the test, and so we had to stay behind while everyone else went to Hogsmeade.

Although we were disappointed that we couldn't Apparate until much later than everyone else, staying behind wasn't terrible.

Since Draco and I were among the very few sixth years left at school, there were fewer people paying attention to us — for some odd reason, our relationship was getting far too much attention, so wherever we went, there were always people spying, constantly trying to dig up something to gossip about. But we never gave them the chance, spending time together in silence and only holding full conversations when we were positive we were safe from prying ears.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn't unbearable. It was actually quite nice, just to sit with Draco in the common room and read together, or simply focusing on homework in the library.

But of course, it was still often that Draco would vanish from the Slytherin common room, and was nowhere to be seen in the corridors and classrooms. He was spending much more time than usual in the Room of Requirement, and I had a feeling things weren't going as he had planned.

I knew he would still refuse to let me help, so all I could do was watch him suffer in silence, trying to help however I could. But my attempts were usually wasted, as he would almost always brush me off, escaping to his dorm or somewhere else where he would be alone.

Draco was having one of his bad days on the day of the Apparition test, and I had a feeling he wasn't planning on giving his all in class. Lucky for him, our first class while the others left to Hogsmeade was Potions; a class I was becoming steadily better at as the year progressed.

"All too young to Apparate just yet?" Slughorn asked genially. "Not turned seventeen yet?"

We all shook our heads. There were only four of us in class this afternoon; Draco, Harry Potter, some Hufflepuff guy, and myself.

"Ah well," Slughorn said cheerily, "as we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to brew me up something amusing!"

I immediately felt a rush of excitement. Potions class was growing on me, and I was finding it more fun to create the drafts that could cure certain ills, or even induce them. But when I was given free rein over which potion to create, it all became much more thrilling.

Draco, however, was not pleased. "What do you mean, 'something amusing'?" he said irritably, and I could almost feel his emotions. I could tell he would rather be toiling away in the Room of Requirement, and his annoyance was burning off of him.

"Oh, surprise me," Slughorn replied airily.

Draco sulkily turned to his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. It could not be clearer that he thought this was all a waste of time.

I watched him warily, my constant worry for him rising to the surface. Despite my desperate attempts to lift his spirits a bit, he was still looking thin and pale, not to mention he was uncharacteristically gloomy; his usual swagger and smugness had vanished completely, leaving him irritable and moody almost all the time. It was hard to converse with him anymore; he almost always lashed out at me.

It was painfully similar to when he was trying to push me away. But this time, I wouldn't let him. I was going to stick by his side no matter what he was going through. He could be as angry or detached toward me as he wanted; my resolve wouldn't shift in the slightest.

I noticed Harry watching Draco over the top of his book curiously, and I stared at him, wondering what was so interesting to cause him to watch Draco like that. Maybe he noticed Draco's grayish paleness or his unusual lack of superiority.