Merry Christmas Mr. Malfoy (Book 1)

Chapter 20 : Let Them Love

Let Them Love

She wasn't sure how long she had sat on the floor. Time was no longer a factor, a necessity to her; it meant as little as the lint stuck to her socks. All she knew was that, she had sobbed until she could sob no more. Her chest ached as she heaved out the dry tears, hiccoughing wildly for a brief period before she was able to get enough air. Her throat was raw from the silent screams, eyes burning from dehydration.

She had cried until she had no more tears left to cry. And even then, her heart sobbed loudly in her chest.

Some part of her reminded her that this was her fault; if she had only stayed for purely good, selfless intentions, then this would not be happening. It chastised her, telling her that she should never have gotten involved. She should have left him alone, let him endure another Christmas without love or happiness.

She wasn't strong enough to do that…she just couldn't. It had pained her before to know of his past, to know that he had never had a true, beautiful memory. Now, it pained even more than, in the process of trying to give him such a memory, she had given him the worst kind possible.

Betrayal and heart ache.

Her mind whispered to her, telling her that she should never have let her heart out. She should never have opened it and accepted his kindness. She had known that, known what was at stake, and yet, she couldn't help it. She had needed to feel him, needed to become a part of him, to let him into her life and heart just as he had been willing to do the same.

His words broke her heart, the anger, the fury, the way his voice trembled with rage and pain. But, what really shattered her soul was the way his eyes had glistened with unshed tears.

She had made him cry…her selfishness, her stupidity, her callousness, had made Draco Malfoy, the heartless Slytherin Prince, cry.

Gods…what had she done? She wanted to make him happy, wanted to see him smile, and in the end, she only ended up hurting him more than he had ever been hurt before.

Her mind, through its pain, worked over the words he had shouted to her. This had happened before, she recalled. Perhaps not this exact situation, but something along the same lines had occurred.

He had said that he was sick of people pretending, using him to get close and blackmail or increase their social status. Her stomach churned at the thoughts, the reminders that maybe, in the end, he was truly far more alone than she had ever thought.

From what she knew, his only friends that had stuck through with him since the beginning were Blaise and Goyle. Crabbe's betrayal during the Second War was a harsh example and reminder of just how people used each other to get what they wanted.

Twisting into knots now, her stomach continued to jerk and force bile to rise up her throat as she coughed out dry tears.

She felt no better than Crabbe, no better than all of the others who had used and abused his kindness and friendship in the past. She had, albeit unknowingly, used him to relieve her guilt and sympathy. She knew deep down that each time he smiled, each time she helped create a good memory for him, that she had alleviated some of the guilt plaguing her mind and heart.

On the other hand, however, each time he smiled, her heart smiled with him. Each time he laughed, her soul giggling happily. Not because the guilt was fading, but because she just loved to see him content. As embarrassing as it was to admit, as insane as the notion was, she was falling for Draco Malfoy.

And she had destroyed their friendship in the worst kinds of ways.

Rubbing furiously at her eyes, fighting back the urge to scratch as them until the tears stop flowing, she tried to push through the pain to see clearer.