Spellbind

25. In All My Dreaming

Niyla POV:

If I were to cause any more affront to the people I care about or anyone else, I can't help but suspect I might welcome the calumnies with amusement and grace. While remembering the simple fact, that during my most forlorn state, Draco was the only one to — surprisingly — offer comfort. When others were weakly present. So I find myself questioning, why then should I feel a sense of guilt for their discomfort? When they were absent during my despondency.

The castle was full of loud chatter; I sighed inwardly as Draco and I made it through the double doors to the Great Hall. I sheepishly avoided looking to the Gryffindor table to seek out George. I could feel the slight heat of pink on my face, at the thought of him.

Krum was in deep conversation with the other Durmstrang Champion at the Slytherin table, when I took a seat opposite them. Draco beside me. Nervously, as I ate I twiddled with the ring Draco had given me. Again and again, I twisted it around my right index finger. To distract myself I allowed my eyes to flash across the room, and there he was.

My heart stammered softly. I didn't pretend I wasn't staring, taking in the sight of his profile as he laughed confidently with one of his friends — Alicia Spinnet. Fred swiftly poised over the table to reach for something near George and Spinnet. For the first time, I felt a twinge of jealousy that I hadn't been placed in Gryffindor like my fathers. So that I may have been a part of that conversation. I was curious to know how different our humor truly was. I turned my head away, back toward Draco.

There was so much excitement throughout the castle and Hall, that I had missed the tension seeping into conversations and faltering of some congenial glances toward Harry and me. Heads began craning in each of our directions and when my eyes shot back to George again he wasn't smiling anymore. It all seemed to happen so abruptly.

I saw when Lee Jordan walked fastly into the Great Hall and then whispered something into George's ear. George stood, marching off with a fiery expression.

"What is dis?" Krum was given a circular object by one of the Durmstrang girls, who had been sitting behind him at the Ravenclaw table.

She shrugged. "I think it vos meant to be joke." Her accent shifted differently than Viktor's.

"'Bout her," she gestured to me with a single nod. "And Potter."

"What is it, Krum?" Draco questioned.

"Apparently, no one 'ought dis badge would change. Anyone trying to remove dis..." she looked at the thing she'd just given Krum, with disgust. "Cannot."

"Krum," Draco called out to him again.

Krum's eyes narrowed as he studied the badge in his left hand, before handing it off to Draco. It was overly large, circular, and charmed to say: "Potter Stinks."

And then the words swirled to change to a swampy-yellowish colored font that said: "Or is that his bitch?"

So even the guest knew I was a shapeshifter. A dog, not liked by many. The scattered mutters and panicked exclamations from the ones stuck with the badge pinned to their robes, seem to be dead silent in my disappointment. Who can have such energy to keep up this harshness? Does it not get irritatingly tiresome? The bulk of the conversations in the half-empty Hall started to carry over the clamoring of the flow of students, making their way toward the grounds of the castle; through the enormous doors of the entrance hall.

I took a deep breath, giving myself a single second to compose my external expressions. I was more curious to find out where George had run off to, than anything else.

"Excuse me," I stood, cutting off Krum when it seemed he was about to speak.

"No, don't..." I said to Draco, he was standing before I flung my school bag over my shoulder.