Rose Evans

Chapter Eight

CH.8

"Rose," Professor McGonagall called me to attention, I snapped my gaze toward her blinking a few times to focus, "would you like to try?"

I shook my head. No I didn't want to try. I barely had the energy to lift my wand nowadays.

She nodded with a "very well then," and a sigh, "Miss Granger?" She never pushed me to do things like she would any other student. Maybe she was afraid to, afraid of how I'd react.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione performed the transfiguration with ease, though her eyes kept a worried fog as she glanced toward me.

Class ended and we all flooded out. I was of the last to leave. Not the very last, because then McGonagall would have insisted we speak. I kept my gaze down and hurried into the corridor.

I hit something hard and stumbled back, "oh I'm sorry." I said quickly, not looking up. No conversations was my rule for the day. I'd been far too snappy.

"Watch it," the person responded. The voice made me look up.

"Draco," I said quietly. His eyes were far darker than I'd remembered. Has it really been that long since we'd spoken? "How are y—"

"Save it," he snaps. He turned and walked away. Leaving me speechless and staring after him.

I shook it off and continued on my way to potions. Draco's always been moody, might have caught him on a bad note. I've been on a bad note myself for a while.

I sat in the seat beside Harry, he's the only person I've managed to keep my temper around lately, at least a little. "Hi, Harry," I leaned into him for a quick hug before beginning to copy notes from the board.

"How've you been today?"

I shrug, "haven't given myself a chance to see."

He nods, "they'll all still love you even if you're mean to them," he tells me quietly, "they're your friends."

"And I don't want to be mean to my friends, Harry," I whine, "can we please just not talk about it."

Ever since the dream my temper has been on overdrive. I've restricted myself from talking to anyone with the fear I'd snap and say something that would cross a line. I don't know what's wrong with me, but nobody would get it if I tried to explain, either.

"Look, I get it, okay?" Harry says quietly, flipping through the pages on his new book. New book? When did that happen? "When he possesses you it takes a lot out of you... really. That's what the dreams are, Ri. He's an angry, evil creature... and you're so kind and pure that your body is just... I don't know, but I get it, okay? So if you want to talk..."

I hush him quietly, "thanks, Harry..."

"Ginny gets it too," he says promptly, "you can talk to your friends, we get it." I don't answer so he takes a deep breath and continues, "trust me... if it was going to scare them away they'd be gone by now, I've been through it too."

I force a half smile just to please him. But I really didn't want to deal with it right now. I don't want to think about my life being altered any more by Voldemort than it already has been.

He wants to take away all three of my parents? Force me into hiding? Plot my brothers death? AND take over my emotions?

I'm not having it.

I make my potion silently, refusing to answer questions or demonstrate anything. Harry was clearly struggling beside me, and I'd love to help him but I just couldn't do it today.