Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Six

A/N Just like in my other story, when POV changes, the next chapter will pick up with Elizabeth unless said otherwise. Thank you!

I'm gripping my bag so tightly that my knuckles turn white as I walk through the corridor.

I tell myself not to be nervous to see the others, but as I get closer to the Great Hall, more and more reasons to be scared fill my mind. Will they make a big deal of it? Will they think I'm weak? Will they be too embarrassed to be my friend after this?

However, I step into the Great Hall and immediately hear a cry from the Gryffindor table.

I don't even remotely expect Hermione to jump from her seat, bounding over to throw her arms around me. I stumble at the impact of her crashing into me, but smile nonetheless, hugging the girl back.

"We were so worried about you," she whispers. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I say automatically, although I feel far from it. She squeezes me a little before pulling away, gesturing for me to come to the table.

"How are you?" Harry asks as I sit down next to Hermione.

"I'm fine. Thank you," I tell him and Ron.

"Did you get anything to eat last night?" Ron questions after a moment of me not reaching for any food.

"Um...yes. I had some snacks my mother sent with me," I lie.

Harry raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything, simply grabbing a plate and placing it in front of me. Hermione begins putting food onto it, ignoring me when I say it's too much.

"What did I miss in potions?" I ask, picking at the eggs with my fork. "Snape isn't angry, is he?"

The three exchange a look that is far from comforting. I can feel the unstable wall barricading my feelings begin to crumble, not as strong after the events of yesterday. The fear shows on my face, I know it.

"What did he say?" I whisper, my voice trembling.

"He wants to talk to you," Ron finally reveals.

"He was fine when Lupin was talking to him," Hermione says helplessly, "but the moment he left he started asking about what happened."

"Je ne peux pas parler avec lui!" I exclaim, wincing a moment later. "Sorry. I...I can't talk with him. Not about that."

"Don't go," Ron says.

"And get into trouble for skipping class?" Hermione scoffs. "That's only going to get her in more trouble!"

"She's not even in trouble!" Harry says, seeing my eyes widen when she speaks. "But she can't skip. She just has to talk to him."

"But she shouldn't have to talk about something like that to a professor! Especially not one she doesn't like," Ron argues.

They continue to go back and forth on what I should do, their voices only bringing me more anxiety. I quickly stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder and slipping out of the Great Hall.

I break into a run as soon as I get through the doors, ensuring that the others won't know where I've gone; that's assuming they've noticed that I left.

I have the urge to go outside and start down the hall that leads to the courtyard. I don't stop sprinting until I'm standing out in the sun, the cool breeze blowing my dirty blonde hair around, which falls across my face. I close my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to forget about school. I take a deep breath, feeling my muscles relax slightly. No one else is outside, leaving me to stop worrying. At least until class starts.

I walk to a tree, sitting down in the shade. I bury my face in my hands, continuing to take slow, deep breaths. After a couple minutes, just when I have completely calmed myself, I hear someone else come outside, the creak of the door giving the person away.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," I say, not bothering to look up. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's not Hermione."

My head snaps up. I take a sharp breath in.

"Your friends are looking for you," Malfoy tells me, spitting out the words. "It's not hard to tell where someone like you would go."

"Malfoy, what-what are you doing here?" I mutter, tearing my eyes away from his. I immediately remember his anger when I didn't look at him, the first time we met. It takes all my will not to look back up.

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

The tone of his voice is wrong. His cockiness and pride is still there, as obvious as the blinding shade of his hair. He says the words like he thinks I'm stupid, which hurts just as much as him possibly thinking I'm fragile.

"Sorry that I misjudged you."

It's still not right. But I look up, a sudden wave of unrealistic hope crashing over me as my eyes meet his. I frown, unable to read his expression until his lips curl into a smirk.

"I thought you were a lot more than this, that's for sure," he laughs. "You're obviously not a Gryffindor. Getting out of class because you were upset about something you saw? Really?"

Says the guy who's wearing a sling because he got a scratch on his arm.

I wish those were the words that had come out of my mouth then. But I wasn't able to speak after what he said; all I do is sit there, staring up at him like a hurt puppy. He wants me to defend myself, I can see it in his eyes. Once he realizes I'm not going to respond, he turns around and walks back inside.

He's right, I realize as I watch him go. You really aren't a Gryffindor.

••••••••••

I don't look at my friends as I walk into the classroom. I sit in the first open seat I see, which is at the front of the classroom. It's History of Magic, so everyone chooses to sit as far back as they can to get away with talking. Professor Binns rarely notices, but when he does, according to Ron, he gets very upset.

I stand the moment the ghost dismisses us, slipping out of the room as fast as possible, rushing to get away from the others. Of course, it's inevitable that someone catches up, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to the side of the corridor.

"Elizabeth, what's going on?" Ron demands.

"Ron! Calm down!" Hermione snaps. She and Harry have also caught up. "Ron, Harry, go to transfiguration. I want to talk to you, Elizabeth."

"But-" Ron begins, cutting off as Harry grabs his arm and pulls him down the hall.

"I'm fine," I insist as soon as Hermione opens her mouth.

"You're not fine, Elizabeth," she says. "Tell me what we did. Please."

I hesitate. She does deserve an explanation. I shouldn't have run off...

"You all were...overwhelming me, a little," I admit, casting my eyes toward the ground. "I was stressed enough, worrying about Snape, but then you all started talking about what I was going to do, and it made everything worse. I just needed to think about it myself. I needed time to absorb what was happening before I began to think about what to do."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione breathes out. "I can't believe we did that, I-I never thought about it bothering someone, but I can imagine that it wouldn't be helpful. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it," I assure her. "I just had to be alone for a little."

"You're not mad at me, are you?" she asks, looking so scared that she hurt my feelings that I can't help but smile warmly at her.

"Of course not, Hermione," I say. "I was worried that you would all be questioning me, but just talking to you felt a lot easier. Thank you."

She smiles as well. "I understand. The boys aren't always very much help when you're sad."

When we enter our next class, Harry and Ron look up from their seats at us. They both look at me hopefully, and I send them a thumbs up. They both grin at each other, and Ron waves us over.

It sure is hard to be upset around them.