[Wattys '13 FINALIST] How Can I Love You When I Hate You So Much? (Draco Malfoy)

How Can I Love You When I Hate You So Much? (Draco Malfoy) Chapter 26

Chapter 26 If I slam my head against the wall enough times, I can't even hear your complaining

I stuffed my copy of The Quibbler into my bag as I saw Umbridge turn toward my seat at the Slytherin table. I knew this was going to cause an explosion, and I was excited.

I had a vision of what was going to happen, and sure enough, the first owl landed in front of Harry at the Gryffindor table. I stifled a giggle and watched 5, 6, 7 others land at the table in front of the Golden Trio. Harry pulled open one of the packages and I caught a fleeting glimpse of Harry smiling sheepishly beneath the headline:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

I walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat next to Fred. He put his arm around me as Ron and Hermione both started ripping open envelopes.

'This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker,' said Ron, glancing down his letter.

'Ah well . . .' This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St Mungo's,' said Hermione, looking disappointed and crumpling up a second.

'This one looks OK, though,' said Harry slowly scanning a long letter from a witch in Paisley. 'Hey she says she believes me!'

'This one's in two minds,' said Fred, who had joined in the letter-opening with enthusiasm. 'Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now. Blimey, what a waste of parchment.' I grabbed one of the numerous envelopes from the table, joining the party.

'Here's another one you've convinced, Harry!' I said excitedly. 'Having read your side of the story, I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly . . . little though I want to think that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth . . . Bitchin!'

'Another one who thinks you're barking,' said Ron, throwing a crumpled letter over his shoulder '. . . but this one says you've got her converted and she now thinks you're a real hero - she's put in a photograph, too - wow!'

'What's going on here?' said a familiar, teeth-rottingly sweet voice. I shuddered.

'Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?' she asked slowly. I raised an eyebrow, but Fred beat me to the question.

'Is that a crime now?' said Fred loudly. 'Getting mail?'

'Be careful, Mr Weasley or I shall have to put you in detention,' said Umbridge. 'Well, Mr. Potter?' I saw Harry hesitate, probably wondering if he could lie his way out of it.

'People have written to me because I gave an interview,' said Harry. Guess not. 'About what happened to me last June.'

'An interview?' repeated Umbridge. Her voice was becoming too high pitched to tolerate, obviously hiding her anger. 'What do you mean?'

'You know, when a reporter asks questions and then writes down the answers? Not too Muggle for you, is it, Professor?' I said slowly and sweetly. 'The public deserves to know the truth.' I said the word truth louder and with increased enthusiasm. Surrounding students glanced at us.

'Here - ' Harry threw his copy of The Quibbler to her. She caught it and stared down at the cover. Her toady face turned an ugly, patchy violet. She looked like a purple balloon.

'When did you do this?' she asked, her voice trembling slightly. I rolled my eyes, and her glare shot to me suddenly.

'Last Hogsmeade weekend,' said Harry. She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers. She glanced between me and Harry, her large round eyes quivering at the corners.

'There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr Potter,' she whispered. 'How you dare . . . how you could . . .' She took a deep breath. 'I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. I can't believe you and Miss Hawthorne could conspire like this. Fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and another week's worth of detentions for the both of you.'

She stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her. I groaned and slumped against Fred's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my head.

'Sorry, Jez. You didn't have to get involved like that.' Harry said, but I chuckled.

'I would have landed the punishment sooner or later, anyway. No worries, bud!' I stood and straightened my haphazard Slytherin tie. 'Off to class for me I suppose. Another week of detention! How many does that bring me to?' I looked around, and Lee Jordan pulled out a notebook.

'122 with Umbridge, 12 with Snape, 2 with McGonagall and one with Dumbledore.' Lee read off. Students laughed and I bowed.

'Should be a school record for this. Time for class.' I wandered out toward Potions.

Malfoy was already sitting at our table, staring at the wall. He glanced up at me when I sat down, a smile flashing briefly across his face. I threw my boots onto the desk and laid my head back against the chair.

'122 detentions with Umbridge? Really, Jezzy?' he said softly, smirking.

'Yeah, well, shit happens.' I replied, my right hand twitching impulsively. I wore gloves at all times anymore. Hermoine had found out a while back what detention with Umbridge meant and blew up at me in the girl's bathroom.

We had just left Potions and I was walking with her when we stopped so she could pee. I took my gloves off to wash my hands, and she joined me at the sink. I was drying my hands when she grabbed my right hand.

'What is that?!' she shouted. I yanked my arm free and pulled my gloves on.

'Just a scrape, Mione. Nothing serious.' Hermoine raised an eyebrow and pulled out her wand. Before I could pull mine from my boot, I was body-binded. She pulled off my glove and eyed the scarred words on my right hand.

'What is that, Jez? I must not show off? Isn't that what Umbridge had you writing in detention?' She removed the curse from me and I shook my arms.

'Very good, Granger. 5 points to Gryffindor.' I said with a eyeroll and picked up my bag. I fixed my gloves over my hands and walked from the bathroom.

'Jezabel Hawthorne, don't walk away from me! What the hell is going on?' I stopped abruptly. Hermoine ran into the back of me. I turned around, my eyes and hair turning black. Hermoine gasped as I pushed her back into the bathroom. I waved my wand, performing the Muffliato spell and locking the door.

I started explaining everything to Hermoine, who was silent until I finished.

'You have to tell someone, Jez. That's illegal.' she said softly.

'And give her the satisfaction of knowing she broke me down? Fuck that. I'd sooner join Voldemort.' Hermoine winced at the name.

'Jez, we all know you're strong and independent, but you have to tell someone. Snape, Dumbledore...'

'I wouldn't go to Snape if I was poisoned and he was the only one in a thousand mile radius with a bezoar. And Dumbledore had way more important things going on. I've got to get to Divination. I'll see you at lunch, Mione.' I walked out of the bathroom, removing the silencing spell and slamming the door.