Hateful Love

Chapter Ten

          I stare at him in shock, my mouth half open. Finally I force out in anger, “Well, no one cares what you think, Malfoy.”

          I grab my bag off the chair furiously and storm towards the door, knowing that if I stay any longer I’ll end up giving Malfoy a black eye.

          I rip open the door, faintly hearing Malfoy calling behind me, “Wait, Cassie—“, but I slam the door before I can hear the rest of what he had to say.

          As I stomp up the stairs to the Great Hall for dinner, I furiously wonder why Malfoy was acting so weird. It isn’t any of his business, what’s going on with Matt and me. I had finally been able to push it from my mind when we were tutoring, but Malfoy had to be an idiot and bring it up…

          It’s not until I reach the top of the stairs that I realize Malfoy had called me Cassie for the second time in my life.

~*~

Draco P.O.V.

          I’m so pissed, but the worst part is that I have no one to blame but myself. I’m trying to work on the Vanishing Cabinet, but it’s not working out so great, mostly because all I can think about is how frustrated I am.

          Why do I always fuck up? I think angrily to myself, ripping the cover off the tall, looming cabinet. Jackson and I were finally getting along okay, but then I had to screw it up and ask her about her little boyfriend.

          This thought causes me to whip the cover to the ground in anger. I just wanted to know if what they had was over; it’s not a crime to be curious, is it?

          I pull out a scrap of paper with different spells scribbled on it, and clutch at my wand. I have to focus. This is not the time to fall apart over some stupid girl that I don’t even like.

          But I know it’s hopeless. The spells I had spent hours searching for in the Restricted Section are useless now, since I can’t do much more than think about how angry I am. I stuff the paper back into my pocket after about a half hour of waving my wand around uselessly, throwing the cover back over the cabinet a bit harder than I mean to.

          I can tell dinner’s over, as the hallways are full of students heading back to their dormitories. This only adds to my frustration, and I shove through a group of sleepy first years on my way to the dungeons.

          It takes me a moment to remember the password, but I eventually do and enter the common room. I give anyone who stares a famous death glare, and no one tries talking to me. That is, until I reach the boy’s dormitory. Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle aren’t bothered by my glares anymore.

          “Draco, mate,” Goyle says in his deep voice, sitting down on his bed with an unnaturally loud squeak. “Where’ve you been?”

          I roll my eyes and reply with annoyance, “Working.” I’d hoped to just go to bed before I did anything stupid (like find Jackson and apologize, which I seriously considered on the way down here), but these two idiots are not going to let that happen.

          “Well, is it fixed?” Crabbe asks nosily, leaning up against a bedpost.

          “Of course not, dumbass,” I snap. “It’s harder than it looks to fix.”

          “You gotta hurry up, mate,” Goyle says, fueling my anger even more.

         “I know, okay?” I retort with frustration. “I’m working on it, so just fuck off.”

          Their faces turn darker, and I don’t miss the glance they give each other. Crabbe crosses his bulky arms and says nastily, “Or maybe you’re just too afraid to—“

          In an instant, I’ve shot forward and slammed Crabbe into the bedpost, my fingers clutching at his shirt collar in fury. It didn’t take much for me to snap.

          “Shut the hell up,” I snarl, barely refraining from pulling out my wand. I lower my voice and hiss, “He gave this task to me. I’m not scared.”

          Crabbe just stares at me in fear, and after a second I rip my hands away, stepping back. The two of them are shaking, and I notice Goyle has stood up from the bed with his wand clutched in his hand. I turn my head away and snap, “Get the fuck out.”

          They leave without a word, almost tripping over one another in their attempt to get away. After a moment, I sink down onto the bed and grip a handful of my hair, wanting to just rip it out. I’m not afraid, I repeat to myself again, starting to shake from the effort of holding myself together.

I am not afraid…