Mission Impossible

Her before Me

My nose itched. The sensation brought me back to life. The throbbing in my mind had eased leaving me exhausted. I'd have turned over if not for the bright blue eyes watching me over a vase of flowers. Sprigs of lavender and baby's breath adorned the sides, beefing up the arrangement and bring out the purple of the pansies.

I smiled, funny.

"Hermione made me bring these," he huffed, "something about them being too heavy for her or something." He plopped the base down, turning on his heels.

"Wait," he did, "stay a while." He opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes flickered to the chair by my bedside, "just a minute." I watched him turn back around, head down, face red.

"Fine," he pulled the chair as far from me as possible before dropping into it.

"Closer," I insisted. My hair was stuck to my head on one end, but what did it matter ? He probably couldn't tell from over there anyways. He inched forward, "closer." Another inch. Fine, I threw my legs over the bed and he came closer, much closer. His hands caught my upper arms and in a show of determination he guided me back down.

"Don't move,"

"You either," his attempts to avoid my eyes fell to pieces. He peered down at me, sky and earth colliding. My mouth went dry and my face began to heat, reddening like the rise of mercury in a thermometer. He jerked his hands back, breaking the connection and stumbling back.

"This isn't happening," but he wasn't talking to me, "you're a death eater!" His voice rose several octaves and this time he was talking to me. It was obvious from his stance to the fire burning in his eyes.

"I'm not," but my protests were dusty and hard to hear, "I swear I'm not." He wasn't hearing me. He paced along my bed.

"You and your vile ferret stay away from Hermione and I." He looked at me one more time, his longing for things to play out differently bleeding into me, "if you try to hurt her I'll kill you both."

"I won't," the lie scrapped against my tongue like sandpaper. My own voice was weak from his distress and I realized my mistake then -I wasn't fierce enough. If I'd stood and swore on my house, my honor, my life that she was safe with Draco and I he would had walked into my arms. But I didn't.

I was weak and flaky and he wouldn't trust her life with me. He wouldn't trust me.

"I can't believe you." He looked at me once more with sad eyes then turned to leave and no amount of calling -of screaming- for him to come back changed his mind.

*****

I spent the night in tears. My brother was doomed because of me and there was nothing to be done. My flowers sagged as daylight came around and I found looking at them depressing.

If Weasley had been determined before it was nothing compared to this. The only Weasley red I ever saw was attached to Zabini. It would seem that Ronald had officially disappeared. Draco followed me to every class, carrying my bags and making sure I wasn't about to faint again.

"What's the flower?" He pulled the wilting thing from my dark hair grimacing as a petal fluttered to the ground, "it's falling apart."

"It's none of your business," I tucked it back into my dark hair. It was my only hope that he'd ever speak to me again.

As it stood Granger was the last person I wanted to see. She was the reason for all of this, after all. However, she didn't quite pick up on that. Instead she chatted about how worried she was about me and how worried 'Ron' had been. Ten minutes of how 'Ron' hadn't stopped pacing until he heard of my release or how 'Ron' wouldn't eat or sleep when I was in the infirmary and I couldn't hide my bitterness over the situation.

"Yeah, well it was 'Ron' who ditched me because of you, because he's worried about you!" Her eyes widened, "he left me there because what? You seem to know everything else, so tell me why he left me in that infirmary calling him back!" It was an Oscar worthy performance. She stumbled for an explanation, but I wouldn't give her that. She needed to fix this, because there was nothing I could do from this point to win him back.

"It's all ruined, because of you!"

Her shocked expression melted into one of anger. There was only so much yelling she was going to allow me and she'd reached her mark.

"Because of me? I can take care of myself! It isn't my fault that any of this happened. So you can throw a tantrum or you can prove it to him!" Her finger jabbed me in the chest and her features were contorted in rage, "either way it's. your. problem." I found the cool wall pressing into me, cooling me from behind. Her hair seemed to crackle with barely contained anger and I found myself at a loss for words.

In the time I'd been planning I'd truly forgotten how formidable this witch was, but I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.

"Sorry," the lightening inflating her hair zipped out of her, leaving her as the docile bookworm I'd originally known. She took a few steps back.

"I'll handle Ron's hero complex," she promised, "I'll send you an owl when it's done, but until then...just keep wearing his flowers."