I Was Dared to Love You (A Draco Malfoy Love Story)

IWDTLY (A Draco Malfoy Love Story) ... 18

Did you notice my handiwork? No? Then just read my Author’s Note: That’s referring to my modified cover! Did you notice? Eh? I’ve been very obsessed with Picnik.com lately. I really hope this chappie works out the right way, otherwise I'm gonna throw a hissy fit. *awkward laugh*

I Was Dared to Love You (A Draco Malfoy Love Story)

Chapter 18: Time to Realize

--------| Draco’s POV |---------

            She left, which was a cowardly thing to do. No explanation, no ‘I’m sorry for being a bitch’, or ‘shucks, you found out.’ She just ran away from the issue. Yeah, I was being sort of a dick about it but hey! If you just found out the person you’d been falling for didn’t actually want anything to do with you, you’d be mad right? Or is it just me?

            Sighing, I go and pick the sloppily written list and shove it into my suit pocket. As I turned to leave, I came face to face with a rather frustrated looking Luna Lovegood. “Draco,” she started. Neville seemed to be waiting a few meters away from her with two glasses of punch and behind him was Granger and Weaslette. “What did I tell you?”

            “I don’t know what you are talking about,” was all I muttered as I walked by them all. My face was void of any emotion. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not right now. Especially not Jesperson’s accomplices. There was a dry throbbing in my chest and my throat was like sand. My palms were clenched into fists as I remembered the fact that she neither denied nor admitted what she had done. Vio—Jesperson had cause me so much confusion over the last few days that it felt good to just feel, in whole, just one emotion. At that emotion was anger.

            I was angry at her, for doing what she did. I was angry at Weasley for ruining my nearly perfect night. I was angry at Granger and Weaslette for daring Jesperson in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself, for believing that maybe, one inkling of maybe, Violet wanted to be with me. The very thought of her even touching someone else made me want to Avada Kedavra whoever the git may be into absolute oblivion.

            “She likes you, Malfoy,” came the too familiar voice of Granger. Turning back to face her, I scoffed.

            “Yeah, and I’m in league with the Dark Lord!” was my sarcastic reply.

            “Then it’s gotta be true, eh?” Weaslette smirked. I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn’t in league with the bloody Dark Lord. Not yet, anyhow. Father would be disappointed if I never became a Death Eater. Then again I had fallen quite fast for a mudblood. Maybe I could be disowned and marr—gah! Shut the bloody hell up, mind!

            “Draco,” Luna began again. “Violet has always liked you. Ever since First Year. Didn’t you notice?” Her voice was soft and there was an easy smile of either pity or simple happiness on her lips. Her dress flowed around her knees and she seemed content standing there. Neville seemed to find that he wasn’t necessary in the conversation and walked back to the Great Hall to wait.

            Wait, notice what? There was nothing to bloody notice! We had yelled at each for six and a half years! Each of us had at least gone to the Hospital Wing once a year and stayed for far too long than we should have. There had been pranks pulled and jokes sneered but never something as bad as this before. Jesperson had called me insult after insult; I had returned the favor. Sure, we weren’t exactly mortal enemies but she sure as hell didn’t like me. I mean, of course she—

            “She gussied up for you, stood up to my intense make-up routine, and even let Hermione do her hair,” Weaslette interrupted my internal dialogue. Her arms were crossed and she looked genuinely mad that I had hurt her friend. “First Year, she cut her awesome long hair ‘cause she was convinced it would look better that way. Ring any bells?”

            “Why don’t you cut your hair? I think it’d look a bit better shorter.” I had said that, hadn’t I? S-she had cut her hair all these years because of what eleven year old me had told her? Damn. It did look better short, too. It would make it easier to run my fing—

            “Violet gave you her first kiss, you know?” Luna finally said, again interrupting the mindless ranting inside my skull.

            Fuck, what have I done?

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