Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Forty

Hermione doesn't talk to me the next morning. By the time I wake up, she's already ready and bustling around the room. When I'm finished in the bathroom, she's gone.

I get down into the common room, hoping Ron or Harry is still there, but I don't see either of them. I walk over to Ginny, sitting down at a table beside her.

"Did you see the boys leave?" I ask, glancing at the portrait. She nods, smiling at me. She obviously hadn't heard anything from the others yet.

"I'm surprised they didn't wait for you. Everything okay?" She shifts in her chair to face me, repositioning her robes.

I tug at my sleeve a little, avoiding her eyes. "I've been kind of a bad friend, lately. Distant, Mione said. I know she's mad at me."

"She may be hurt, but I doubt she's mad," she says.

I let out a soft laugh. "Hurt makes me feel worse. I didn't mean to make her think I don't care about her anymore. Have I really been that quiet?"

She considers this for a moment. "Yes. I just assumed you were a little shaken after last year, though."

"I am." I shouldn't have put so much focus on Malfoy when we aren't even in a typical relationship.

"Anything else bothering you? It sounds like it's just a lack of communication," she suggests.

"You'd make a good therapist."

"I try," she says, laughing. "Talk to her, apologize, maybe spend some quality time with that group."

"That's a good idea." I sigh a little, standing up. "Thanks, Ginny."

I make my way to the Great Hall, a little nauseous but determined to make things right. I try not to indulge in my habit of looking for Draco when I enter, finding Ron's red mess of hair in the crowd first. However, Harry isn't with him and Hermione, and I find him sitting separate from them closer to the doors. I frown as I move toward him, sitting down while watching the other two.

"Why aren't you with them?"

"I've been distant too, evidently." He sighs. "Visions from Voldemort can do that, I guess."

"Alright, I see why they'd be mad at me," I say, "but you have...an actual problem."

"I chose to sit by myself. They didn't shun me or anything, don't worry," he jokes, but his smile is small and weak. "Also, I think if you don't want to share something that's bothering you, that's your choice. It's not like you're hurting us because of it."

"That's the thing. I don't need to let any of it get in the way of you guys," I explain. "But I did. And I'm very sorry for that."

"So there is something wrong?"

"No," I quickly lie. "No, nothing is wrong. There's just...a lot going on now, I guess."

He nods, returning to his food. I glance over at the others again, wondering if now is the best time to apologize. There's no room next to them, so I couldn't even sit; I'd have to publicly announce what a terrible friend I am. So I drop my bag to the floor and start preparing a plate for breakfast.

••••••••••

"I'll get Hermione to prepare the medicine for your hand," Harry says, and I instinctively hold my right hand to my chest, cringing at the idea of the smooth skin on the back being torn up. I'm thoroughly anxious about how much this will hurt, and while Harry didn't entirely sugarcoat it, I'm sure he held back when describing the intensity of the pain.

"Thanks, Harry." We move around the corner into the corridor Umbridge's office is in when I see Malfoy walking from the other direction. His head snaps up, and he quickly averts his eyes. To my surprise, he veers over to the office and knocks. I glance at Harry, who's eyes have narrowed.