The Abuser

Tiny Minds

"The problem with closed-minded people is that their mouth is always open."

- Anonymous

.........

I look around the stone pillar, into the empty hallway. I have been skulking around for the last several weeks, but now it's Christmas break and nearly every student has vanished. Every student, that is, except for Draco and his loyal bodyguards.

Of course. They naturally had to be the Slytherins who stayed behind with me. It's almost like he's trying to foil my attempts to avoid him!  The coast is clear, so I hurry down the hall, before ducking behind another pillar, about 100 yards away.

I have a duel motive for this sneaking, of course. First, avoiding Draco; I haven't talked to him or even glanced his way since he kissed me almost a month ago. He has returned the favor by leaving me almost entirely alone. Occasionally, I'll find a nasty note in my bag or slipped between the pages of my books, and I have a very strong feeling that they're from Malfoy, but I don't let it bring me down. You can't teach old dog new tricks, and I could never expect Draco to alter his offensive ways.

My second reason is perhaps a bit more serious. There seems to be some sort of monster lurking in our school. Several kids have been petrified over the last weeks and a message was found scrawled on a wall threatening the "enemies of the heir". I saw it after our Halloween feast, and I overheard Draco gabbing about it with his posse; he's beyond enthusiastic. I suppose that he wants every muggle-born in the school to drop dead, but that's just because he's a prejudiced, racist, little prat. Hermione has been doing loads of research about the heir and the possible culprits, and the Golden Trio is certain that there's a student helping the beast and opening some creepy chamber.

Honestly, I don't really care about getting involved. Sure, I'll be extra careful to avoid danger, but I suppose that when you've lost a parent, or maybe both, you don't always feel like investigating death.

Harry is certain that Draco is opening the chamber and Ron agrees; I wouldn't put it past him, so I offered to report any of his suspicious behavior. Hermione, however, insists that he wouldn't such a thing. She's remarkably forgiving for having so many insults pushed upon her by that bully. Together with Ron and Harry, she's concocted a plan to get the truth out once and for all, but apparently the details are "confidential."

I freeze, hearing footsteps and a hushed conversation. Peering around the corner, I spy Draco's two, hulking bodyguards: Crabbe and Goyle. Damn. At least Draco isn't there. They turn into the same hallway as me, nearly mowing me over.

"Hazel!" Crabbe cracks a big smile, and Goyle promptly elbows him in the ribs.

"Ahem. DeLuce." Goyle says, gruffly.   

I frown, picking myself up from the flagstone floor, and dusting off my hands. "Hello bodyguards. Where's Malfoy? Did you finally give him the old slip-a-roo?" I don't really care where he is, of course, but I'm naturally curious, and seeing these two larger boys apart from their slim leader is pretty much a freak of nature.

"I'm not sure, probably in the common room." Crabbe mumbles, looking up hopefully. "You wouldn't happen to know where the common room is...would you?"

"What?!" I laugh, shaking my head in genuine mirth. "You're seriously lost? Well, sorry; I am to, incidentally. Hmmm, I wonder how Malfoy will cope without his posse." I crack a smirk at this. Of course I know where the common room is, but this small act of revenge seems too good to pass up. I'm about to walk away, my sides heaving from silent giggles, when a curly haired prefect stalks up, blocking my way. If I was to guess, I'd place him in the Weasley family, for his hair is a brilliantly flaming red.

"What are you doing down here?" Crabbe says looking a bit surprised.

The prefect looks him over, stiffly. "That is none of your business. It's Crabbe, isn't it?"

"Wh- oh, yeah." Crabbe replies quickly. He goes a little red.

Merlin, I think, can he possibly be any more stupid? He practically forgot his own name! I'm adept at allowing the benefit of the doubt- but when it comes to Malfoy, I'm pretty much unforgiving.

"Well, get off to your dormitories. It's not safe to go wondering around dark corridors these days." The Weasley prefect looks at each of us in turn, a stern expression fixed firmly on his face.

"Yeah! Well, you are." Crabbe snaps. Goyle groans and closes his eyes and I wince instinctively. Crabbe has definitely gone too far! Insulting a prefect is never a good idea, and he should know that! I may not be like my fellow house mates, but I do want the best for my house. If this prefect manages to dock points from Slytherin for this idiot's cheek, then I'll be more than just a little upset.

The prefect draws himself up, towering above us. "I am a prefect. Nothings about to attack me." He motions proudly to his badge.

At that moment, a cold and drawling voice breaks the silence. I start and turn, my eyes lighting on Malfoy, who is swaggering down the hall like he doesn't have a care in the world. Air head! I think, blocking out a sudden memory that washes to the forefront of my mind; vanilla and cinnamon, and Draco's soft lips touching mine. That kiss meant nothing! I wasn't even a real kiss; besides, you hated it!

"There you are. Have you two really been pigging out in the Great Hall, all this time? I've been looking for you. I want to show you something really funny." He looks at them with a cold disdainful smirk, then turns and notices me. He gives me a stare that seems to last forever, finally raising his eyebrows and glancing away. Sneering eloquently, with his two bodyguards behind him, Draco looks at the prefect. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"

The prefect flushes, clearly infuriated. "You want to show a bit more respect for a school prefect!" He snaps. "I don't like your attitude."

"Whatever." Malfoy pushes past him, Crabbe and Goyle following. I stand still for a minute, before rushing after them. I was headed back towards the common room anyway, and I don't really feel like standing around, waiting for the wrath of the red-haired prefect. "That Peter Weasley-" I hear Draco say proudly, and I catch a glimpse of him looking over his shoulder at me.

"Percy." Crabbe says quickly.

Funny Crabbe would know. I'm now walking only about a foot behind them, and I narrow my eyes curiously, trying not to miss any of their conversation.

"Whatever!" Draco huffs. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. I bet that I know what he's up to. He's trying to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed." He laughs scathingly, before halting at the door to our common room: a concealed entrance in the damp stone wall.

Everyone's talking about this 'heir of Slytherin', I think wearily. First the Golden Trio, and now Malfoy and Co. Why can't people just mind their own business? Let the headmaster sort it out.

"What's the new password, again?" Draco turns to Goyle, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor.

"Uh..." Goyle falters, glancing at Crabbe.

"Oh yeah- Pureblood!" Malfoy exclaims, pushing past him as the wall slides open. I follow his posse and slip inside before it closes.

Draco throws himself onto a couch, and digs a piece of paper out of his cloak pocket. It's a newspaper. Damn. Malfoy and his bloody newspapers. I really don't want to stick around and listen to whatever cruel remarks Malfoy decides to make, but I figure that it might be helpful to my Gryffindor friends if I stay.

He unfolds it with a flourish and reads an article about Ron's family. Crabbe and Goyle chortle slowly afterwards, looking disgusted. Malfoy glares at them, suspicion shining in his malevolent, pale, eyes. "What's wrong with you two, then?" he drawls, setting his paper down. From my seat, half a dozen feet away, I see Crabbe and Goyle exchange looks.

"Stomach-ache." Crabbe says, looking intensely guilty.

I don't have time to sit here listening to their tiny minds attempting to carry on conversation. I stand, and sweep out of the room. Is it just me, or can I sense Malfoy's eyes burning into my back as I leave?