Draco Malfoy's Perspective

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Oh Merlin. There he was again. He was walking toward her.

Violet steeled herself and kept walking. She didn't need him bothering her. Not right now.

"It's been six months. At least look at me," Draco said. It was December now; she could see snow falling through the window she was staring at. He was standing in front of her, just enough to the side that she could see the window. It was getting dark now; it must have been nearly lights out. They were the only ones in the hallway, so she supposed so.

Betraying her, a tear slipped from her eye. She didn't move to wipe it away and sucked in her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Weakness. She hated weakness. She would never have cried in front of him, but she'd just come from her last meeting in the Room of Requirement. Neville hadn't known she was listening. He said he never would've given her the coin if he knew she'd be so useless.

Everyone around her just wanted to use her. 

"Vi." He raised his hand and wiped her tear away. The physical touch broke her final wall and she looked at him. Did her heart ache for his touch! Her eyes drank in his appearance, since she hadn't properly looked at him since her birthday. It must have been her imagination that he was taking her in similarly.

"Don't touch me," she hissed through closed lips. If she opened them, she would cry, and never in front of him.

His hand fell; he was staring at her in surprise. "You spoke to me."

"A mistake. It won't happen again." She sidestepped him and started walking toward the dormitories so she could get back before lights out.

"Wait. What's the matter? Why're you upset?" He grabbed her wrist, which she promptly yanked away.

"It isn't any of your business." She blinked more tears away. This interaction, on top of what had happened earlier, was taking an emotional toll on her.

"I can help you, like you helped me."

"Get away from me, Malfoy. I don't need your help." She spun around, and he felt slightly disheartened by the use of his last name.

"Violet, wait. Wait." He ran around in front of her and gently put his hands on either side of her head so she would look at him. "Vi, I am deeply sorry for what I did to you. I was wrong."

"I hate you." She backed away, tears spilling over her cheeks. He was frozen. "Merlin, I hate you, Malfoy." Why did it hurt to hear that? Wasn't that why he'd sent her away? So she wouldn't be involved? So she'd hate him and stay away? "Because after..." She had to pause and take a deep breath. "After everything you've done to me...I don't hate you."

He should've grabbed her, held her, told her how sorry he was. Instead he stood there, staring at her.

Her lips curled back in disgust. "You push me away every chance you get. You cursed me. I should hate you. With every fiber of my being, I should hate you."

"I know."

"Every time I think of my birthday, I don't remember the curse. I don't think of our argument. I should. That should be the only thing I remember about that day."

He nodded.

"It isn't."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It's not?"

Her lips were trembling now. "I think of Paris. Italy. Greece. Then I remember sitting under the stars. But Merlin, I can't remember a word of what was said in that argument. I can't remember how you got me out. I don't even remember how I ended up on my brother's doorstep. I have to meditate on that to keep from running back to you. I should hate you. But I can't."

Now he took her hand and rubbed circles on the back. She laid her head on his chest, sobbing. They didn't touch anymore. There weren't anymore words to be said.

Violet felt like she had just betrayed herself, yet she felt whole. She had Draco. Not everyone around her was using her. Eventually he lifted his free hand and laid it on her back. The touch sent shivers up her spine.

They were startled by a calm, kind voice. "You kids should get to your common room quickly. We wouldn't want you in trouble."

Violet turned so violently that her visions swam. It was just Sir Nicholas. "Thanks, Nick." She offered a small smile before the couple began down to the dungeons.

At the door they paused. "I'm not doing this again," Violet said. "If you're going to make me go through being with you, you have to swear that you won't force me away from you."

"I swear," he said easily.

"Then I have a lot to tell you."

He nodded. "Me too."

He opened the door, letting her in first. When they reached his room, she frowned. "Where're Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Off cursing some student in detention, I suppose." He sat at the foot of his bed.

She shook her head. "I hate that punishment. They've never forced me to do it."

He smiled a bit. "You're too good for that. So, I've been talking to my father–my owls aren't intercepted–and he says everyone is getting impatient for you to return some useful information. I've been saying that it takes a while to earn enough trust to have useful information."

She nodded, suddenly conflicted. "Right. I'm supposed to be collecting information against the Order." Sighing in anguish, she sat on an adjacent bed and put her head in her hands.

"Vi?"

She looked up. "Everyone around me, except you and Theresa, wants to use me for profit."

"What?"

She sighed heavily. "I've been involved with the Gryffindors; Dumbledore's Army, if you remember." He nodded. "I just came from a meeting. I heard someone saying that he never would've invited me to join if he knew I wouldn't have any useful information on You-Know-Who, Death Eaters, or the Carrows."

That's why she'd cried. It wasn't because of him–it was those bloody Gryffindors again! He leaped to his feet and would've run straight out that door to find and curse the lot of them, but Violet grabbed his wrist. Yanking it free, he rubbed his jaw and paced in an attempt to walk off some steam.

"Draco, relax. It's nothing."

"You haven't even looked at me in six months, and after this, you sodding sobbed on me! You know it's not nothing."

"Dealing with you just pushed me over the edge. Honest. I don't care what Neville says—"

"It was Longbottom?" Gripping his wand, his knuckles turned white.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter who said it. Just goes to show that both sides of this war have similar tactics, just different beliefs." She looked inquisitively at him. "What do you believe?"

"Muggleborns have magic all their own; they don't steal it. Purebloods have higher standings because they know better how the wizard world works than Halfbloods or Muggleborns, not because their blood makes them better. And Muggleborns need to understand that and quit attempting to run everything."

She considered this. "Agreed. Although I would argue that keeping every higher up position within the Pureblood families causes tyranny and raises dictators in place of an elected Minister, so having someone with a different blood history now and again would be refreshing and would bring unity."

"So I lean more toward my family, and you toward yours. Seems only right."

"It does. But you don't believe in cleansing the wizard world and purging it of Muggleborns?"

He shook his head, not saying anything lest they be overheard.

She stood up and pecked him on the lips. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"If you aren't there when I see Longbottom, I will curse him."

She rolled her eyes. "Just don't get caught."