Revelatio

As They Come By

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In a sea of strangers,

you've longed to know me.

Your life spent sailing

to my shores.

— Lang Leav,
Love and Misadventure

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She had seen him for the first time aboard the train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It seemed like yesterday.

Slicked back platinum blond hair and a face which radiated arrogance for miles was her first perception of him. Later she had learnt that he was a downright spoilt prat. But that was fine; after all she had nothing to do with him and his lot.

Little did she know...

"Oi! Granger!", a drawling voice called out. She stopped in her tracks and wondered what she had done this time to deserve his unwanted attention.

"Malfoy", she acknowledged him as she spun around. She noticed his cronies were nowhere in sight.

He began to speak, "As you already know, Snape-"

"It's professor Snape."

He glared at her for a short time, probably for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity to her. The greyness of his eyes was positively stormy at that moment.

"Whatever", he resumed. "As I was saying, Snape has paired us up for making potions for the rest of the year, even after knowing how I loathe you and your muddy blood-"

She broke him of again, "The feeling's mutual." She noticed he hadn't said 'Mudblood'. He continued again, this time a little more angrily.

"Will you stop cutting me? Anyhow, I just wanted to say that you mind your business and I will mind mine. Try anything funny and I won't hesitate in hexing you to oblivion, understood?", he said with an air of finality about it.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

"No, because one, I don't waste my time on small time tricks and two, potions happens to be a class I like. Oh! And the third and the last reason happens to be the fact that if I were to do something to you, it would not be bad, it would be awful Granger and awful things can't be done in class. So stop thinking in that big bushy head of yours and try to behave in there because I know you have a knack for inviting trouble, espcially if it affects me."

"Malfoy, are you implying that you're afraid of working with me? Afraid that I will punch that pointy nose of yours again?", she asked somewhat slyly.

"No, I am implying nothing of that sort", his voice wavered a little. "Blimey! You think so high of yourself Mud- Granger. Now if you had enough of this pointless banter regarding this unwanted arrangement, may I go?"

With that he abruptly but arrogantly walked past her, knocking shoulders intentionally.

She watched him as he walked away, his robe sailing after him as he disappeared down the corner. She wanted to run after him and point out that it was he who had started the 'pointless banter' in the first place.

She silently wondered to herself, how in Merlin's name did she have a nearly civil conversation with Malfoy, the worst Slytherin ever known. She walked back to her common room, her arms burdened with some books, all the time wondering why had he refrained from calling her a 'Mudblood'.

Little did she know...

+=+=+=+

He walked down the path to the dungeons all the time thinking about his confusing actions. Why in Salazar's name was he talking to Granger civilly and actually liking it? Small talk with Granger just didn't happen for him. But deep down he knew that he couldn't reverse what had happened.

Deep down he knew...

Walking up to the door of his common room, he muttered the password and slid himself inside, hoping no one would notice him. His wish didn't come true though.

"Draco, where have you been to?"

That was Zabini. For the time being Draco just wanted to go to his room and question the motives behind his weird actions.

"Nowhere", he answered somewhat roughly, hoping that Zabini would get the hint that he wanted to be left alone. But he was Draco Malfoy. He didn't need to see whether people got his hints or not. So without further ado he rushed past him; eager to enter the warm and comforting confines of his room.

As he entered his room, the smell of parchment and ink, which he loved so much invited him.

At last he was at home, at rest; eager to jot down his thoughts or rather the reasons behind his questionable actions.

At his desk sat a thick, elegant, green leather covered diary which awaited him. It had been a gift from his mother when he had been sent off to Hogwarts.

"This", she had said as she had handed it to him, "will help you get through difficult times." He hadn't understood what she had meant back then. However, now he saw it all, as clear as the morning sunlight. That diary had been his true companion through the last three years, the fourth year wouldn't be any exception. It had become a routine for him now. After having dinner and wandering a little bit around, he would find solace in the off-white parchment and sea-blue ink.

This evening was no different.

So he wrote. He wrote and all his feelings were splayed across the pages.

I don't know what came over me today when I decided to talk to Granger. Perhaps it was her sparkling chocolate eyes? Or her silky hair?

Frankly, I don't know.

Look at me! What has happened to me? Here I am thinking about her eyes and hair. No, I wouldn't think about them. NO!

Granger is a filthy little mudblood, not some nymph. I am the purest of purebloods. Purebloods don't associate with mudbloods. A pureblood doesn't think about a mudblood, however striking the said mudblood be.

Just plain old no.

Then why am I thinking about her all the time? I don't know where I am, I am so lost, Salazar, help me! Snape has paired me with her for potions for the rest of the year. And I don't know why I am so happy inside.

I don't like her. Of course not! Never!

~ D

Deep down he knew...