𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 𝐎 𝐍 𝐄
warning: profanities ahead.
C L E M E N T I A
It was Monday, 7:08 a.m. Danielle and I were one of the first to arrive at the Great Hall—there were at least eleven people in the Slytherin table, and not above twenty in the other houses.
I woke up a little earlier, gathered all the parchment that was piled up on the top of my cupboard, and forced Danielle to start the day with me as soon as possible. I was drowning in nearing due dates, and I had no choice but to start accomplishing them or i'd fail the year.
Danielle, still groggy and heavy-lidded with sleep, pushed around the eggs on her plate with a fork as I sat beside her and tried to search for what I needed to do first.
"Let's see," I sighed. "A Charms and Transfiguration 6-inch essay due in three days, a DADA 12-inch essay due tomorrow, another 12-inch essay in DADA but a different topic due the next day, a group research in Potions and a partner work due in a week, a test in History of Magic tomorrow, and the test in Potions that I missed. Good grief, are they trying to kill us?"
My head snapped towards Danielle. "What else haven't you done?"
"I've finished the DADA essays. That's it." She barely made an effort to move her mouth as she answered. Her head was propped up with her fist, her cheek raised from the force. "My group mates in the Potions research suck, and Snape paired us with our seat mate for the partner work."
"So you worked with Blaise?"
She gave a lazy grunt.
"Have you finished it?" Another grunt.
I groaned and ran my fingers through my hair. "And the test?"
"Oh, and that too."
I closed my eyes and tried to sort it all out. "Okay. I'd do the first essay on DADA today, study for the test on History of Magic, and try to see if I could take a make-up test for Potions. The rest could wait until tomorrow." I blew a short breath and opened my eyes to see Danielle's head slowly leaning downward.
"I'm going to need Granger and whoever is next in line after her to combine their power and hand it to me in order for me to finish all of this." I spread the parchments across the table with my palm. "Come to think of it, who is next to Granger?"
When she didn't answer after a few seconds, I placed my palm gently on her shoulder. "Dani,"
"Huh?" Her head shot up, eyes still closed.
"Why are you so tired? You slept early last night." I furrowed my eyebrows as I pushed back some of the hair that was falling on her face. Through the years, it had been a habit of mine to absentmindedly fix the hair of people I love—mostly Danielle, because her hair cannot be tamed sometimes. Finally, I tuck it behind her ear.
"You made me get up an hour earlier," She whined, setting her palms on the table and pushing herself up. "What were you saying?"
"I'm saying that I do not have enough brains to get through all of this-"
"No, no, I got that," She shook her head, rubbing her eyes with her fingers. "After that."
"Oh, I was asking you who came after Granger. In the ranks. Perhaps with both their brains combined they can spare me some—that'd be enough." I chuckle, facing back to my untouched breakfast and mountainous pile of homework.
"Hm, I doubt that," Danielle went back to her plate, actually taking a bite this time. "Since the second best is Draco, I think."
My hands froze in the middle of organizing my parchment. I hadn't heard his name in so long, it felt like jumping into a tub of ice-cold water to hear it again. "Really..." I tried my best to seem uninterested—even though I was the one who had asked in the first place—forcing my voice to fade and sound far-off.
"Yeah. Really. That bloke is actually pretty damn smart—it's almost ridiculous. Must be the Black genes."
Finally, I thought, a hole I could use to change the subject. I force myself into it immediately. "But you're a Black." I raise an eyebrow at her.
"I'm the Sirius Black type of Black. That's so much different compared to every other type of Black in the bloodline."
I laugh, trying to shoo away the lingering thought in my head that Danielle had provoked. "He's an adjective now?"
"If I had a galleon for every time I was compared to him, i'd be richer than your family." She rolled her eyes, reaching for a piece of toast. "But now that I think about it, the Malfoys weren't exactly dumb either. So maybe it's both for him."
I give a hum in reply as I thought of subjects I could use to stray away from the topic of him.
"You don't buy it, do you?"
This surprised me, and my gaze shot up a little more alert than it should have. "H-huh? Buy what?"
"That he's second in our year. I totally get why. If I weren't a family member who gets to see his grades because Lucius flaunts them every damn year, I wouldn't believe it either." Her eyes moved from mine to the entrance of the Great Hall. "Speak of the devil."
"Hey, Draco! Come over here for a second,"
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I busy myself again with my homework, pulling out a clean sheet of parchment to start doing the first DADA essay.
It's either my ears have gone strangely sensitive to sound or his footsteps just seemed to be five times louder now that I knew they were his. I felt a presence behind me. I tried not to budge.
I could smell him. Freshly sprayed perfume and mint. I tried to breathe as little as I can.
"What do you need now?" My skin prickled. He might have been standing too close, because his presence was too much for me to bear.
He was suffocating me, taking all my oxygen away to keep for himself.
"You're not stupid, are you?" From the corner of my eye, I could see Danielle barely regard him as she took a bite of her toast.
A scoff. I heard it too clearly. "What?"
"Your grades."
"What about them?"
I could feel him slightly shift from behind me. It was as if the air moved with him every time he did.
"They're not bad, right?"
"I don't understand-"
"Maybe you can help Clem here,"
My body stiffened, even more than it already had the moment she mentioned his name. Suddenly the feeling of his presence diminished—as if he stiffened too.
I turned my head slightly, just enough so my eyes could only see Danielle. "I'm good, actually-"
"No. No you're not," Danielle snorted, placing the last bite of her toast in her mouth and finally looking between me and the immobilized boy behind me. "You've been rambling all morning about how much you need to do, and how much a fourth of Granger's brain would help yours, and though I want to help you—I really do—we both know I can't."
She sighed. "So, as much as I appreciate you trying to make me a study-buddy, I need sleep. I could just join the both of you when i've had my share of it."
There was a pause, and none of us spoke. Until he did.
"I still don't quite understand what i'm supposed to be doing here."
Another sigh from Danielle, her eyes rolling. "You're supposed to help my best friend."
"Why?" There was a bit of hesitation in his voice, just a grain of it; but it was enough for me to recognize. His hesitation is just as familiar to me as his surety is.
"Because I can't."
"Why me?" A tinge of irritation now. I felt a slight pang of pain in my chest.
"You're next to Granger in the ranks. I can't ask her, now, can I?"
A snort, and I could feel him switch his weight between his two feet. "I don't have all the time in the world, Danielle."
"Right. But you do have time to drink a whole bottle of firewhisky every-"
"I don't." His voice turned hard. I kept my gaze away from him still.
"Yes, you do. I don't think Lucius would be too happy with that piece of information. Neither would be Aunt Cissy. Don't you think so?" Danielle cocked her head to the side.
If I knew ranting to her about being stupid and unintelligent would lead to this, I would have just shut my mouth and left our dorm room on my own. Damn it, Dani. You are so not my best friend right now.
"Ah." Something that sounded amused and bemused at the same time—like he knew she would say it, but didn't expect that she actually would. I bit the inside of my cheek. It's ridiculous how much I know him. "Blackmail. For what? Does she even want to be helped?"
"I-" I started, forcing myself to finally sit up and look at him. He had a bored expression, eyes wandering far away to the tables, until they met mine. Maybe it was just my hazed senses, but I thought they widened, the pupils slowly taking over the thinning ring of his iris, but perhaps I had just imagined it, because he looked away before I could register what exact shade of grey his eyes were.
"Yes, she does." Danielle interrupted. I could kill you right now, Dani. Slowly and painfully.
"Now, where's my boyfriend? Why aren't you with him?" Please tell him to go away. Or you go away. Or I might, for fuck's sake.
"He made a detour to the bathroom—probably on his way by now."
"I'll meet him. You two set an arrangement." She stood, straightening her robes. "I want half her work done by tomorrow." Her eyes were narrowed as she switched her gaze between the two of us, both frozen and probably wanting to sprint out of the room.
"Go!" She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed him until he sat on the space beside me. Exactly where Danielle was earlier.
Now—Danielle and I are friends, as we all know, and friends do not sit very far apart from one another. That being said, he was very fucking close to me. I could smell him even more. I could move my arm and it would immediately brush against his. If the room was silent, I would probably hear him breathe. He is merely inches away from me. Inches.
Slow and painful death, Danielle. Slow and painful.
She walked away, running a hand through her golden hair.
It was silent, but only between us. Not in the Great Hall, definitely, because then I'd hear him breathe with this distance. Stop thinking of his breathing.
For a few minutes, we sat in silence.
"The tao of Danielle Lestrange." I said in a whisper, half-meaning to say it to myself and half-wanting him to hear. I was dumbstruck when he answered.
"It's her world, after all. We're all just rent-free tenants."
That voice. Those words. All directing to me. To respond to me. To create a conversation. With me.
Another long moment of silence. His arms—I saw from the corner of my eye—were folded on top of the table, and he was facing away. fiddled with my fingers. "Listen,"
"You- you don't have to do this. I'll be fine on my own. I was just overwhelmed with everything I need to do that I spoke too much, but—I- I don't really need help."
Only then did he turn to look at me, and I had to swallow as I met his eyes. "Sure." He stood. "I'll go, then."
Emotionless, he turned to walk away.
"Or," I said, a little louder than I had meant. "You could- maybe- stay? Just until she returns? Spare us both from another..." Merlin, what am I saying?
"...or you could go. I don't know." Wonderful. I really need to glue my lips together. With gorilla glue. Or a permanent silencio charm.
He looks at me for a moment, and I would give absolutely everything to read through his expression. Without another word, he sits back down, finally with enough distance that I wouldn't be worried about hearing his breathing or smelling his cologne. His face was away from me, so I couldn't see it either. Good. Just until Danielle comes back.
Ever since the moment Danielle had said it, the question had been lingering in my mind—bothering me and most probably planning to deprive me of sleep tonight.
I had too much to do and I needed the space for them; just another thought in my mind would overload it. I swallow, again. "You've been drinking?"
He doesn't move. "No."
"Every night?"
He sighs, lowly, his palm moving to rub at his jaw. "I don't drink."
"Then what does Danielle have on you that you wouldn't want your parents to know?" I couldn't help it. My mind needed to be emptied.
"She has known me since the moment I opened my eyes. I can't control what she does or doesn't know."
"That doesn't answer my question."
He closed his eyes, as if forcing back something wanting to be freed. "I don't understand why you're pressing about this. I don't drink."
"Danielle wouldn't say that if you don't."
"I drink or not—it's not any of Danielle's business."
I had a feeling he wanted to add my name next to hers.
"So you do?"
His fingers played along the soft skin of his jaw, as if to smoothen it. His tone was harder when he spoke again. "I do not."
I took a deep breath. "Will you ever stop lying to me?"
His fingers froze. For a moment, so did my heart when I realized what I just said. I forgot when I had become so bold, but I was not given any time to think about it before he turned around and finally faced me. His eyebrows were furrowed, crystal-grey eyes almost translucent in the morning light. I tried not to show any emotion on my face.
A few seconds passed, and our eyes never left each other. The muscles of his jaw tensed. Finally, he opened his mouth, almost reluctantly, "Clementia,"
"Clementia!" Someone was behind me. I didn't really care—I didn't want to. Draco was looking at me, whoever needs me can wait.
But then, I realized whose voice it was.
He saw him before I did, for I watched as his eyes left mine sharply to look at a point above my head.
I turned around, and Clarence was standing a few steps away with a fading smile. He had seen Draco too.
"Hey," I didn't turn my body toward him.
He wasn't looking at me. He was looking rather seriously at the person behind me. Of course.
"Are you free today?"
I wet my lips and pressed them into a thin line, trying to buy myself some time. There wasn't much I could do; he was standing right there, and he was sitting right there.
With half a mind still working, I turned to look at my papers on the table. "I have a week's worth of homework," When I looked back at him, he was now looking at me. There was something in his gaze—something like expectancy and ... determination. He had never looked at me like this.
"So ... probably not."
"Tomorrow, then? Anytime this week? Next week?"
"I don't really know how long all this—" I gestured to my blank homework, "is going to take me."
In other words, Clarence, leave me alone.
"I'll help you."
"Uh-" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "I don't really need help-"
"I'll help you get them done quicker," There was a smile on his face. It did not seem as beautiful as the first few times I had seen it. Maybe because of his confession a few days ago. Maybe because he's being a total dick right now. But most probably because, Draco is right next to me. Don't you know what that means, Clarence? Of course you don't. I treat you like a friend and you're technically begging for more.
"If you want to, of course." Begging with consent. How nice.
"I'm good." I forced a smile.
"Are you sure-"
"She just said she doesn't need your help." Both of us paused at the voice, as well as everyone else sitting at the end of the table. I looked at him as subtly as I could. "What part of that is too hard for you to understand?"
He wasn't angry. Or if he was—I didn't see it. His face was still emotionless, and he looked at Clarence as if he were a mere stranger.
"I asked her, not you, Malfoy." Clarence's jaw clenched.
"She just gave you her answer." Draco's voice was flat, nonchalant. "Perhaps you'd like me to translate 'I don't need help' in moron?"
Clarence had gone red, and his mouth opened. I could do nothing else but to brace myself; it would become worse if I meddled, and foolish if I left. Just sitting there felt like the safest option.
Draco stood before he could say anything and shouldered past him. As he did so, he said, loud and clear, "That way you'd finally understand."
The force of the side of his body made Clarence tumble slightly, but he regained his posture immediately.
I was wondering why he already stood, but when a flash of bright blonde hair came running into the room, I was flooded with relief.
-
Surprisingly, Danielle and I did not talk about it for the rest of the day. Once, and then it was brushed off.
Her reaction, when I told her, was a smile as she shook her head. "Maybe it's got something to do with Clarence being accepted in the Quidditch team?"
"Yeah, maybe," Was all I could say.
The Last class was Potions. When Snape entered, he asked us to do the group research for the entirety of the period, because there was a meeting he had to attend. It was uncharacteristic of him to simply hand me a piece of parchment with my group mates' names when I asked what my group was. No comment about me being in the infirmary for a week. No scolding for being behind.
There were four of us: Me, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, and Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy.
I closed my eyes, silently hoping I was just seeing things. He'd been on my mind all day—which, by the way, was not consented by me—but not once had he looked at me again. I'd pass him, or look at him across the Slytherin table, or even during the classes we shared. He did not pay me a single glance.
I was convinced I was just making up his name where it could possibly be, but when I opened my eyes again, it was still there. It did not change. Draco Malfoy. This day is pushing me to the edge.
I turned around. The tables had been fixed in twos so that each group would be able to meet. Almost painfully, I searched the room for my group.
They were in the far left corner. Millicent and Theo were already looking at me. I took very painful steps to the far corner of the dungeon.
Theo and Draco sat at one side, and Millicent sat alone in the other. Very painfully, I say down next to her. Draco being right across from me but his eyes never meeting mine is even more painful—excruciating, even.
"So." Theo clasped his hands together. I knew he knew how awkward this was. "What's the topic?"
"Draught of Peace," Millicent answered.
I opened my textbook, searching for its page in the table of contents. "It's just the instructions for making it, it doesn't have any information about the potion itself." I looked up to see them, textbooks also turned to that page and reading it, except for Theo. "We'd have to go to the library."
"Right then, let's go," Theo stood without hesitation, as if he was waiting for a reason to leave the room all along.
"Wait. Are we even allowed?" Millicent's voice stopped him from taking the last few steps to the door.
I looked around, and no one had left the room. "I don't see anyone leaving."
"Well, if Snape wants us to get something done, we have to go." Theo gestured to the door.
"Maybe we should ..." I looked around again, and most of the students were either lounging or gossiping. "... plan first?"
"She's right." Millicent leaned back in her seat. "Sit your ass down, Nott."
Theo rolled his eyes and sat back down, still not bothering to open his textbook, and folded his arms above the table to rest his head on them.
"How many paragraphs? Five, right?" Millicent began, emitting a nod from Draco—the most movement he's done since I sat down.
"Right. An introduction, a three-paragraph body, and a conclusion."
"I'll do the introduction." I said.
Millicent nodded. "I'll do two of the body."
"Conclusion," Draco muttered when she looked at him.
"Great. Nott will do the last part of the body."
"We can set a time to meet everyday to coordinate our parts," I suggested, and the only person who seemed to hear me—Millicent—nodded.
"How about 5?" She asked everyone.
"Quidditch ends at 5:30. Supper is at 6." He met her eyes, but not mine. "7:30-8:30 is better."
"Right. 7:30 good for you?" She turned to me.
"Yeah. 7:30's great."
Theo did not argue, so all assumed he was good with it. I reached in my pocket for my shrinking notepad to write about the time, in case I would forget. Although I know I would not.
When I saw the small embossed cursive text at the bottom of each page, in shimmering gold, it read, Clementia B., I remembered.
"Will you ever stop lying to me?"
"Clementia,"
He had called me by my first name. Not in a joking way. Not in a weird, mocking tone. He said it and he was serious. I replay his voice again and again and again in my head. Clementia, Clementia, Clementia..
Along with that, he saved me from Clarence. He said what I was too cowardly to say. It it weren't for him, i'd probably have to meet Clarence everyday. That's the last thing I want after his confession.
I had to bite back a smile. I wanted to show him that I heard him, that i'm somehow grateful for what he had done, but I didn't know how without making it sound awkward.
I had an idea.
My eyes traveled to the ground. Millicent's legs were crossed, and Theo's were wide open. I could determine which of the shoed feet below was his easily.
Gently, I pressed the side of my shoe to his and let it stay there. Feigning innocence, I began to write. I just kept it there. It was the smallest kind of affection I could show him, the only one I could do.
Minutes had passed, and everyone else in the group had started sharing conversations that had no relation to what we were supposed to do. We laughed and talked, and he'd join in every once in a while. I still kept my foot there, against his. He did not move away.