In My Dreams [Draco Malfoy]

chapter ten: "the unexpected task"

INDIGO COSTA WAS ODD. Draco had known that much from the beginning.

It was in the way those huge eyes seemed to see right through a person, in her gentle voice, and tired expression, as if she never had more than a few hours of sleep. She spoke in riddles, always leaving you with more questions than you had begun with, and you were never certain how much she saw and how much she didn't see, much less if she would ever tell you if she had. She had a way of surprising people, saying exactly what she meant, even when it was painfully blunt, in a manner that conveyed that it was meant to be neither blunt nor surprising. And all of this made her odd, but what bothered Draco the most was the way he felt around her.

Whenever she was near, Draco was overcome with the instinct to protect her. Like a wolf in a pack, he had begun to look for her when he felt most vulnerable and defend her when she was quite obviously uncomfortable, just as she had done for him. It was why he had cut in the day Zabini had first invited her to sit with them, when Nott was so blatantly making passes at her. Draco didn't know if she—nor anyone else—had realized it, but Costa had been scooting closer to her brother throughout the entire conversation. She hadn't laughed with the others when Draco had implied that Nott would fancy his sister and had looked at him like he had actually surprised her. She had known what he'd been trying to do and he'd been careful not to let himself slip like that since.

But now she had said that she would date him, that he wasn't evil and there was good in everyone; that he was just hurt and hurting others because of it. She had said all of this, and a part of him had been waiting for someone to say it for so long it was relieving. But another part felt like there was a trap closing on him, that she was too good to be true, being too kind to him to be genuine. He was immature, reckless, and emotional—he knew he was. So, why was she always so nice to him? And why did he feel so protective of her?

Maybe that was why he had said what he had said: "You're stupid and naïve." It hadn't been true, but it had been the easiest way of pushing both her and these thoughts away, the easiest way of... hurting her—

When he realized what he was thinking, he pushed that thought away too.

Draco had gone back to the Slytherin Common Room boiling with anger. All the while, there were kids in the corridor, looking at him, pointing and calling 'the Amazing Bouncing Ferret! The Amazing Bouncing Ferret!' but he just walked faster. That damn day with Moody was what had started this mess—with the other kids, with Costa—and he wasn't in the mood to do anything about it today. He was angry with Costa, angry with Saint Potter and that damned Weaselbee, angry with the world, and—most of all—angry with himself. Though, as much as he hated every Gryffindor that had ever lived at that moment, all he could think about was Costa and what she had said: 'Hurt people hurt people."

He was still thinking about her when Zabini and Nott walked in with some sandwich triangles wrapped in a napkin a half-hour later.

"Hey," Zabini greeted. "What happened earlier? My sister said you were tired."

Of course she did, he thought.

"Nothing," Draco bit back.

"Right," Blaise replied, unconvinced but willing to let it go.

"So you didn't ask Costa to the Ball?" Nott asked.

He didn't look nearly as carefree and easygoing as he had an hour ago, and Draco was quite certain that this was why.

"No," he said, "are you kidding me? My father would probably disown me if he found out I went to a traditional Ball with a half-blood."

Zabini looked annoyed at this, but it was Nott who replied.