Little Bird

Chapter Thirteen

Eve

            I'd like to say that I slept fine after what Malfoy had said to me, but the truth was, I didn't sleep any better than I had the night before. Just when I had been starting to think that he might have a good side, he turned right around and reminded me exactly why he wasn't a good person. I thought he'd stopped Blaise because he cared about me at least a little bit, but in reality he'd just wanted to stop Blaise from getting what he wanted.

            I'd been silly to think Draco Malfoy was good.

            Around two a.m., I sat on my bed and wrote a letter to my aunt asking for her to send me back home.

            I had it completely written out, not mentioning anything about what had happened with Blaise or even Malfoy, but just enough to let her know I needed to be taken out of Hogwarts. I scanned it back over by the light of the small candle by my bed, shaking my head slightly at some of the parts that sounded as though I was desperately begging her—although, I guess I was.

            Sorry to owl you so late...something's come up...I need to get out of here...please, auntie...I can't stay here anymore...

            I had the envelope in my hand, the letter folded up neatly in the other. I paused, staring down at the piece of parchment and wondering if I was doing the right thing.

            It almost hurt to think about it, but now that I was looking back on it, nothing had actually happened with Blaise last night. I wasn't a complete idiot; I knew what had almost happened, but it hadn't come to that. I wiped under my eyes and wondered what I was really running from.

            And then next thing I knew, I was tearing the letter in half and tossing it in the bin.

            Before I could regret it, I softly blew out the candle and lay back in my bed, tugging the covers up over my head. Under the darkness and warmth of my blanket, I allowed myself to cry quietly.

            Tomorrow I'd pull it together. Tomorrow I'd be able to show them both that I was okay.

            With any luck, maybe I'd even be able to fool myself.

~*~

            When I walked into the Potions classroom the next morning and saw that Blaise and Malfoy were already seated at the table, my legs suddenly turned to lead.

            But I forced myself to keep walking, putting my shoulders back and holding my head high. I had skipped breakfast completely, but there was no way I was going to miss another day of classes.

            I rounded the corner of the table and grabbed the edge of my usual seat, dragging it to the right slightly before finally sitting down. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Blaise looking at me as though he was surprised to see me, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. Without a word, I sifted through my bag and started to pull out the Potions textbook.

            Our table was dead silent, and even Malfoy wasn't saying anything to Goyle on his left. I refused to look up and across the table, because making eye contact with Malfoy was the last thing I wanted to do.

            Snape entered the room only a few moments after I had sat down, so it couldn't get too awkward at our table. As he stood at the front of the room and began the lesson, I forced myself to pay attention. I could practically feel Blaise beside me, and inside, I was filled with an icy coldness. I wasn't going to cry in front of him—there was no way I could let that happen.

            I was turned towards the board, but I could hear Blaise shift his weight uncomfortably before leaning closer to me. It took all my self control not to instinctively back away from him.

            "Eve," he whispered as quietly as he could. When I didn't even turn my head, he repeated only a bit louder, "Eve."

           I still didn't move, and this caused Goyle to snort and shake his head at Blaise. He laughed quietly, "Nice try, mate."

            I wondered if he knew.

            Blaise exhaled angrily and finally leaned back away from me, and I was able to let out the breath I'd been holding. I felt light-headed and sick to my stomach, but I was going to make it through this class no matter what it took.

            Because if I left early, they would all know how I was really feeling inside.

            The period dragged on, Snape's drawling tone droning on and making me want to close my eyes—only three hours of sleep in the past two days wasn't helping. But finally the bell rang, and Blaise still hadn't tried to talk to me for a second time.

            I packed up my things quickly but not too quickly, wanting to show that I wasn't anxious to leave but really just wanting to get the hell out of there. The rest of the Slytherins always took their time in packing up, so I knew I'd be able to leave before any of them even stood up from their chairs.

            I had thrown my bag over my shoulder and was turning away from the table when Blaise suddenly stood and said loudly, "Wait, Eve—"

            I finally allowed myself to turn and look him dead in the eye, pausing for just a moment. And then I gave him the coldest look I've ever given anyone, and I watched as he visibly shrunk away from me. Without a word, I turned and left the classroom with my head high.

            My knees were incredibly shaky as I made my way over to Charms. I wanted to stop for a moment to finally slouch back down and curl into myself, but for once I wasn't going to allow myself to do that. I was going to make it through the rest of this day, no matter how awful it was or how much I wanted to run back to my dorm and cry.

            I couldn't let all these people think I was weak.

            I made it to Charms on time, and I looked to see that Ginny was already seated at our usual table near the back. Feeling my stomach churn with nerves, I forced myself to put on a small smile and made my way over to my seat.

            When I placed my bag beside the table, Ginny looked over and grinned up at me. As I sat down she asked, "Where were you yesterday? It was terrible, I had to work with Seamus."

            I busied myself with my Charms textbook so I wouldn't have to look her in the eye as I answered carefully, "I...I didn't feel well."

            "Ah, no! You feel okay now though, right?" Ginny asked, looking me over. "The Quidditch match is next week, you have to go. Of course, you'll be rooting against me because you're in a rival House, but whatever."

            "Oh yeah," I said weakly. I'd completely forgotten about the upcoming Quidditch match.

            Ginny finally paused to really take a good look at me, even putting her hand on my arm. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit sick."

            I hesitated then, because I honestly wanted to tell her the truth. I needed to talk about this with someone, and who else was I going to go to? Pansy?

            But instead of spilling everything, I forced a smile and patted her arm. Then I lied, telling her easily, "No worries. I'm just tired."

            "Me too, all this homework has been killing me," Ginny moaned, leaning back in her chair. "I know exactly how you feel."

            I nodded and smiled, thinking all the while that no, she would never have any idea how I really felt.

               And no one ever would. Because, like always, I was too scared to let anyone in.