Hateful Love

Chapter Thirteen

NOTE: I do not own any of the ideas or characters expressed in this story (except Cassie Jackson). All of these belong to J.K. Rowling.

 ~*~

Draco P.O.V.

          As I lie in my bed, unable to fall asleep, all I can think about is how pathetically stupid I am. I only kissed her because…well, I had to distract her from asking the one question I didn’t want to answer. I wasn’t supposed to…like it.

          But I did, I think with frustration. God, I’d liked it.

          I roll over angrily. This whole thing is Matt’s fault, anyway, he’s the one who told Jackson about my Dark Mark.

          I rub it absentmindedly, wondering how I should act tomorrow. Should I pretend that nothing happened? Or should I confront her, like I want to, and ask her what this means for us?

          What am I thinking? I ask myself furiously. That stupid kiss didn’t mean anything. I’d only done it to shut her up, and it had worked, hadn’t it? And anyway, she’s the one who pushed me away. Cassie probably didn’t even want to kiss me.

          Rolling over the other way, I let out a frustrated sigh and try to ignore Goyle’s snores. Why did I have to kiss her? She was upset about Matt, and then I went and confused her even more. I shouldn’t have done that to her.

Although I’ll never admit it, I care about her feelings more than that.

~*~

          The next morning, I wake up earlier than planned. It’s Saturday, and I wanted to sleep in, but that isn’t happening. Despite my ache to stay in bed, I roll out and stumble to the bathroom sleepily.

          My reflection in the mirror stops me. I usually try to avoid seeing myself, but I’m so exhausted that I accidentally glance at my face.

          The dark circles have gotten worse, and my eyes look slightly bloodshot. I rub them furiously, hoping to change the haunted figure that stares back at me, but it’s still the same. I force myself to look away after a moment and turn the tap on, splashing cold water onto my face.

          It doesn’t have the desired effect of waking me up more. I dry my pale skin on a deep green towel and wander back to my bed, hoping to find my shoes.

          No one else is up yet, and I glance at my watch, seeing that it’s only four in the morning. Great.

          I’m just picking up one of my shoes up off the floor when my left arm burns with so much intensity that I drop the sneaker. Blinking through the pain, I let out an involuntary hiss as I clutch at my shirt sleeve. I rip it upwards and look down at the sinister skull, the slithering snake. He’s calling someone, I think dully. Thank god it’s not me.

          I wait for the pain to subside slightly before retrieving my fallen sneaker and pulling it on. I don’t want to stay here any longer; Blaise is mumbling in his sleep and it’s setting my teeth on edge. There’s only one other place to go for me, so I slip out of the common room and walk briskly through the halls to the Room of Requirement.

          The castle is freezing this early in the morning. I shiver slightly, but I try to ignore the cold. The Mark burning just reminded me how much faster I have to work, no matter how badly I don’t want to.