Draya Malfoy

25 - Toxic

"Draya Malfoy! Will you wake up this instant!"

I jerked upright in my seat, McGonagall's thunderous voice startling me out of my slumber. Around me, the class erupted into nervous giggles.

"S-Sorry, Professor," I stuttered, peeling a piece of parchment from the side my face and placing it back down on the desk in front of me. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Or try none at all.

Professor McGonagall looked furious, her eyes bulging out at me from over the top of her spectacles. "That is no excuse for sleeping in my class! And what exactly were you doing last night which was more important than sleep? Clearly not the homework I set you."

I cast my eyes downwards, not answering. She'd already scolded me for not doing the essay she'd set. But I had bigger things to worry about. I was simply getting nowhere with the cabinet despite putting all my time into it. I'd stopped eating, sleeping and even playing Quidditch. I'd also begun skipping classes where I thought I could get away with it.

Transfiguration, it seemed, was not one of those classes.

"Detention with me this Saturday. You can complete your essay then, and also write an additional one on the importance of sleep."

Oh for fuck's sake. I had plans to kill Dumbledore this Saturday!

Guess I had to get someone else to pick up that necklace instead. Maybe I'd choose someone from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ha, that'd teach Potter if one of his team died doing my bidding.

******

"Guess what?!"

I flicked my eyes upwards as Daphne came skipping towards the Slytherin table. It was dinner time and I'd just completed my Saturday detention with McGonagall. I was too exhausted to get on with the cabinet so I thought I'd treat myself to some food.

"What?" I muttered, shovelling a forkful of potato into my mouth.

She glanced at me, her eyes widening slightly. I was used to this. People tended to double take when they saw my appearance these days. I clearly looked crap.

"Katie Bell is dead!"

I concentrated on swallowing down my food, carefully trying not to react. My heart hammered uneasily in my chest, and I wondered if being a murderer would ever get easier.

"Really?" Pansy breathed. "What happened?"

"Well, maybe not dead, exactly," Daphne immediately back tracked, "but she's in hospital!"

I slammed my fork down on my plate. Everyone looked up at me, startled.

"Well it's quite a big difference, Daphne." I snapped. "Either she's dead or she isn't!"

Daphne blinked. "What is wrong with you, Dray? You've been a right mood this year. Didn't anyone tell you that the whole emo thing is so two years ago?"

I glared at her. She had no idea. No one did. I suddenly couldn't bear to be around anyone, and I snatched up my bag and got to my feet.

"Well, bye then!" Daphne called after me when I stomped away without saying a word. "Freak."

I froze. Part of me wanted to whirl around and go back to throw a drink in her face. Yet another part of me - a bigger part - just simply didn't have the energy.

"Hey, Dray," Crabbe said, puffing up beside me. "Is everything alright?"

Goyle closely followed, his face full of sympathy. "Ignore Daph. She's been bitter ever since Theo dumped her. You know we've got yer back, anything yer need."