Emma Potter; Going to War

107: A Grim Christmas Eve

"I don't get why you're so mad at me!" Draco yelled. "You need sleep! You need sleep and you need food! You're barely eating or sleeping! I don't fucking care about the war--"

"Well I do!" I yelled back, Draco could be scary when he was angry, but so could I. "In case you've forgotten my fate kind of lies with this war--"

"IT'S NOT SOMETHING I CAN EASILY FORGET!" Draco roared. 

"Stop acting like it then!"

It was near eleven o'clock on Christmas Eve. Zoe, Nicholas, Ginny, Ryan, Astoria, Neville, and many other members of the A.A. were back at home, however most likely they'll be spending the rest of the year in the room with us. The children who were still staying with us, were practicing in a separate room, adjoined to the one we were in, practicing spells.   I was still mad at Draco for drugging my drink, but I let it slide since they managed it well. But he did it again and that crossed the line. 

They handled it well then too, but it made me feel like I wasn't needed. What was I doing if I wasn't helping Hogwarts?

Another reason I couldn't sleep is that every time I drifted into that subconcious state of mind I saw the merry face of the golden haired thief. The one who was near Gregovitch.

That's because you are weak. 

He's trying to help you and you're pushing him away. 

You don't deserve him.

And he doesn't deserve the burden you bring with you. 

These thoughts popped up so often that I knew they were there but I had gotten used to the truth being spoken.

"Acting like it?" Draco glared at me, "do I look like the kind of man who's forgotten there is a 50% chance his girlfriend might die?"

He didn't. The bags under his eyes were as bad as mine, his hair was wet as he had just gotten out of a shower, it hung lank across his forehead. 

"Well how do you me expect to win this war if I'm sleeping half the time?" I shot at him. 

"Two days," he corrected, growling. "Just two fucking days."

"It doesn't matter! I'm supposed to be working--"

"Is that so?" Draco's voice was dangerously low, and his eyes were darkening. "Then may I ask you how do you expect to win this war when you are half asleep?"

"I wouldn't be half--asl--"

"Of course you would! Emma, your being illogical here! How could you not sleep and not feel sleepy?"

"I WOULD HAVE SLEPT!" I yelled, "I'VE TAKEN CARE OF MYSELF FOR 16 YEARS! I CAN MANAGE ONE MORE."

"Well you sure as hell don't act like you can!" Draco snarled. 

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah! I said it! You're so caught up in what's happening around you you're not stopping to considering yourself." Draco took a step forward, "at this point I think you'll most likely kill yourself!"

I took a step forward too, "Like I said; I'll manage myself. You don't have to worry about me."

"DON'T GIVE ME A REASON TO!"

"DON'T YOU DARE YELL AT ME."

"STOP BEING SO STUPID, THEN."

"STOP BEING SO FUCKING OVERPROTECTIVE!"

Draco raised his hand in anger, and I'm 10 years old again. I've beaten Dudley in something and Uncle Vernon is about to hit me. . .and it's going to hurt. My natural instinct is to. . .