Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Sixteen

A/N Sorry this is a shorter chapter...but it's the last in the third book! Things will definitely be getting exciting in fourth year ;)

I step into the Great Hall for the first time in a week.

I didn't even begin to feel better until my third day in the hospital wing. I was sick from blood loss, and still in a lot of pain from the wounds, primarily the ones on my stomach. Madame Pomfrey eventually confirmed that these would scar, that not even magic can hide such terrible injuries.

When I did begin to regain my strength, I started to continue my exams in bed. Lupin, who came to visit (and apologize) informed me that I earned a perfect grade on his exam. He felt awful, and I tried my best to convince him that I knew it wasn't his fault.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione came to visit in every free moment they had. Harry told me the story of the dementors and how he thought he saw his father, Ron gave me sweets to cheer me up, and Hermione explained her and Harry's adventure with the time turner. I laughed when she said that she said something too loudly and accidentally caught my attention when we were in Hagrid's house.

I see everyone watching me as I walk toward the Gryffindor table. I look down at first, knowing that everyone can see the red mark on my temple. I see Malfoy staring at me from his table, but even though our eyes meet, he doesn't look away. I continue looking at him until I sit next to Hermione, who greets me with a hug.

"I'm so glad you're back!" she squeals, and I smile.

"Me too."

"You just had to steal my thing, Elizabeth, really?" Harry teases, moving his hair to show his scar. It's the first mention of the wound that doesn't make me upset, and I laugh.

"Of course. I need everyone to know that I'm the hero," I joke, reaching out to take a plate.

For once, despite everything falling apart, I feel normal. No one is treating me differently. These are my friends, and I am wanted here. I'm a part of their group.

Before I know it, I'm saying goodbye to everyone at King's Cross. I see my mother standing there, but I take my time with everybody. I hug each of my friends tightly, wishing them a great summer. I finally begin to pull my trunk toward my mom when I run into someone.

"Sorry," I say, taking a step back. My breath catches in my throat when I realize that it's Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going," he snaps. I glance over at my mother, hoping she doesn't see the encounter, but her eyes narrow slightly. I don't say anything else to him, moving away as quickly as I can toward Mother. She immediately grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit without saying a word. I turn my head one last time before turning the corner, seeing the blond boy still staring. His expression is unreadable, but for the first time, it's not one of malice.

I turn forward again.

••••••••••

Draco's POV

"Draco."

I look up from the plate holding my untouched food. Father stares back, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes Father?"

"What is wrong? You've been awfully quiet ever since we picked you up," he says.

"Nothing's wrong," I tell him, turning my attention back to my plate while picking up my fork.

"Look at me, Draco."

My eyes snap up to him again. "What is it?"

"Who was that girl you were watching today?" he questions. Heat rushes to my cheeks, though I don't know why. He means Elizabeth.

"What girl?"

"Don't act stupid, Draco," he snaps. "The girl you ran into."

"Oh. Elizabeth," I say casually, resisting the urge to look down again.

"Elizabeth?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"Medlor." I realize that saying her first name was a mistake, and my fingers tightens around the fork in my hand.

"She's the daughter of that crazy lady in the muggle department I told you about," he scoffs to Mother. She nods warily, looking to me sadly.

"I'm sure Draco doesn't like her," she says, trying to help out.

"I don't," I defend. "She hangs out with the trio."

"Of course she does." Father rolls his eyes. "You should have seen her mother when word got out that she was attacked by that no-good defense teacher. It was hilarious. I'd send someone else to hurt her just so I could witness it again."

Anger begins to build up inside me, anger that I can't explain. Why I want to defend this girl, I don't understand. The ring I sent was a stupid idea, and I regretted it immediately...yet I didn't anymore when I saw her wearing it.

Mother laughs, but I know it is one of nerves rather than humor. "You'd hurt a Hogwarts student? How?"

"You-Know-Who is rising, Narcissa," he explains with a smirk. "I'll send a request his way, have her be put top on his list to be k-"

"No!"

The word escapes my mouth before I can stop it. Both of my parents stare at me in shock.

"Excuse me?" Father glares at me.

"Nothing."

"What is this, son? Why are you defending this girl if you don't like her?" He leans forward, his hand that was resting on the table slowly curling into a fist.

"I'm not," I mumble.

"So it's alright if I have her killed? Because I do believe it would be a bit of fun, don't you, Narcissa?"

Mother nods, but her eyes are filled with pain.

"I'm just saying it's not right to kill someone for a reason like that," I say, but it's still the wrong thing. I wait for him to explode, to yell at me for not having the same opinion as him or something.

But he continues to eat, like nothing has happened.

••••••••••

Third Person POV

A few weeks after the end of school, Lucius Malfoy walks toward the gate of the Malfoy Manor. It is past midnight, the moon shedding light onto the man that meets Lucius on the other side of the bars.

"Why did you ask for me to come here?" the man hisses.

"Quiet," Lucius whispers. "I promise this won't take up much of your time."

He hands over a small bag, the man taking it and shaking it slightly. The sound of coins clinking together fills the nearly silent air, making him smile. "What do you want?"

"The plan for the tournament is still on, yes?" Lucius asks.

"Yes."

A smirk spreads over the death eater's face. "Would putting in one more name be doable?"

End of third year