Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Fifty-Four

Draco was released from the hospital wing by the next day, and he was given the okay to resume classes. This was a relief — it meant he wasn't injured badly enough to stay in the hospital wing overnight.

However, the moment he was amongst the students, he was bombarded with questions and demands for fully-detailed recounts of what happened. This unwanted attention stretched into first period of the next day, and by then, Draco was already looking tired. He hadn't answered any of their questions and had ignored their demands, but he was looking rather bothered by the harassment nonetheless.

It was odd; not long ago, he would have killed for this type of attention, but now, it seemed like he just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear — which I suppose would explain his growing irritability as the day wore on.

Defense Against the Dark Arts class had just been dismissed, and Draco and I were packing up our things when a bold-looking Slytherin I didn't recognize sauntered up, stopping bravely before Draco.

"So you got attacked, eh? I suppose you wouldn't mind sharing the details, would you?" the boy asked haughtily, and I was about to step up and tell him to back off already when Draco straightened, meeting the boy's gaze head-on. The boy took a small start, apparently having not expected Draco to actually respond.

"Actually, I would mind. I don't fancy wasting my time gossiping like a little girl with people I don't care about," Draco said, his voice toneless and cold. "So either you clear off now, or I won't be the only student who got attacked this week."

"Are you threatening me?" the boy asked defensively, balling his hands into tight fists.

Draco glanced down at his fists in an almost bored manner, meeting the boy's eyes again with an expression that said, "this is a waste of time".

"Yes, I am threatening you," Draco answered in a sick-and-tired-of-this-shit manner, sounding suddenly dangerous. "As a matter of fact," he turned away from the boy in front of him, speaking louder to address the crowd of onlookers that I had only just noticed was there, "the next person to ask me what happened yesterday is going to end up in a worse place than I was."

The crowd went dead silent, each and every person staring at Draco as though they hadn't expected him to say something so threatening. I couldn't say I blamed them — only last year, he was clawing for attention of any sort, no matter how he got it. And now, when he finally got the attention he used to desire, he resented it.

Draco turned back to the boy, leaning forward to mutter menacingly, "That enough detail for you?"

The boy's face paled significantly, his previous boldness gone without a trace.

Draco grabbed his bag, reaching back for my hand before shoving past the boy, making for the door without a glance back. I stumbled behind him, pulled along like a dog on a leash as he pushed past groups of students crowding the corridors, leaving a path of ruffled and startled people in his wake.

Draco kept walking until he turned into an empty corridor, where he stopped, dropping my hand, allowing his bag to fall to the floor with a muffled thump.

He stood in the center of the corridor, his back to me, unmoving. It almost looked like he wasn't breathing. Then, he reached up and gripped his hair with both his hands, remaining completely silent.

"Draco?" I started tentatively, and all of a sudden, he let out an enraged yell.

"Why do these things keep happening to me?!" he bellowed, and I jumped, frightened by his sudden outburst. He turned and slammed his fists on the wall, his face contorted with rage.