I ended up spending the night in a...less than pleasant little motel that offered little more than a bed to sleep on and a roof over my head, but it was better than sleeping on the street.
Probably.
I had to be rather particular about where I stayed, as I had no car, little money, and no phone to call help with, along with what looked like a brilliant black eye that spread up my cheekbone as well. Any place that wasn't intended for single night visits and a promise of non-disclosure would undoubtedly raise questions, and I simply was not in the mood for interference from anybody. The motel I stumbled upon was dingy, the lights over the reception desk flickering half-heartedly, and I got a wary feeling as I took in the state of my room, but it was only for the one night, as the next day I was going to return to Hogwarts a bit early. Luckily, I had just enough for the one night stay, a cab, and a ticket to get onto the Hogwarts Express, but that meant yet another night with an empty belly. I could live with that, really; it wasn't if that was something new to me. It did do a wonderful job of keeping me up that night, though.
As I lay on the squeaky bed, the cold seeping into my bones because I was not willing to risk slipping under the covers, my face throbbed horribly and I let out a frustrated huff. Sure, everyone close to me knew my dad hit me somehow, but god, did I really have to walk around for the first few weeks sporting a shiner that was practically a magnet for stares? I hadn't thought about what I was going to tell my friends, because honestly I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to tell them the whole truth. They were most likely my best bet for somewhere to stay after this year, so some truth would probably have to come out at some point. My brain ran slower and slower as I thought, tiredness begging me to shut my eyes and rest and start recuperating from the strenuous and difficult things that I had gone through that day. I finally drifted off to sleep thinking about spending summers at the Burrow, thinking about the way Harry's green eyes shone in the yellow sun and the sound of his laughter over the splashing of water and how kissing him would taste like salt and warm summer air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That morning, I woke with an aching body, the pain in my face dimmed down to a faint heat, but any extreme movement from my eye or brow caused the fire to burn bright, shooting up to my forehead and down the side of my face. I also woke with a determination to finally sit down with Harry and tell him that I wanted him, wanted all of him and that I wanted to be entirely his as well. The thought didn't scare me as much as it did a few weeks ago, and I didn't know what had changed, but the giddiness I felt was something that hadn't been around for a very, very long time.
The cheap black alarm clock read in glowing blue digits that it was seven a.m., and even though the Hogwarts Express wasn't set to depart until ten a.m., I decided to gather my things and make my way to King's Cross, as waiting at the station was probably a bit less scary than waiting in this dingy motel room. Bending down to pick up my larger bag, soreness shot through my middle and I groaned softly, remembering that it was likely a good idea to assess the damage before I made my way on.
I walked to the tiny bathroom, my socked feet padding softly on the thin carpet. The bathroom light flickered on to reveal a toilet, a rather unpleasant stain on the ceiling and a shower curtain that definitely had some sort of mold growing in between the fabric and the plastic liner, making my lip curl in disgust. The grout in between the yellowing tiles wasn't much cleaner, but I swallowed my distaste and turned towards the mirror mounted on the wall.
The sight of myself genuinely made me flinch. A vicious red, slowly purpling bruise was painted underneath my eye and up my temple, my lid a spatter of scarlet as well. My hair was mussed, surely wildly tangled in the back, and my face seemed more...hollow, though there was an unusual fire in my eye that surprised me. Lifting up my sweater revealed only a faint red circle, which I was grateful for. All in all, not wonderful.
But not the worst I've ever looked, so I decided it was not the end of the world.
Mostly, I was angry because my father's drunken rage had left a visible mark, which meant an endless barrage of questions from friends and teachers alike. And...
I groaned. Malfoy . I just knew he would give me shit for it; yes, even though I had saved him from his father, he would still torment me about mine. I was certain about that. That was the only thing that set my nerves alight as I thought about returning today, otherwise I could hardly wait for the smell of the pine trees lining the Great Hall and the drafty breeze that floated through the stone castle and the food . My mouth was practically watering just at the thought. I never ate well at home, and most of that was really my fault; I had never bothered to learn to cook, surviving off of microwave meals and snacks instead.
Decided that the bruise was what it was and that there was no use in fussing about something unchangeable, I exited the bathroom and changed into a heavy dark blue sweater and worn black pants with a black scarf wrapped around my neck to keep some of the chilly January air from gnawing at my skin. My hair was far too unruly to gather it into anything but a low messy bun, so I made do, bits of hair slipping out to brush my face as I tried futilely to get them to stay back. Giving up, I gathered my things, the small amount of what was now my only possessions aside from my things at Hogwarts making my heart prick with sadness, but I could always get new things. Things that were part of whatever new life I was going to scrounge up for myself.
The motel hallway was empty thankfully, and the red-eyed clerk merely grunted as I placed my metal key on the counter and made my way out the doors into the freezing morning air. Thanking myself for grabbing enough money for a taxi, I found one and told the driver to go to King's Cross before resting my head against the chilled window and letting out a small sigh. The cab driver had barely spared me a second glance, and I was sure I was not the worst-looking individual he'd ever picked up from this establishment, which shouldn't have been comforting but oddly was.
Dirty, slushy snow covered the roads and sprayed onto the sidewalk as I rode in the taxi, the winter now fully in swing. I was sad that I had missed Christmas this year, but there were always other times to celebrate with my friends, even as the lack of warm holiday food and the excitement of presents made me feel rather down. I was grateful that the driver didn't seem to be one for conversation, as I was in no mood to answer any prying questions, quite content to stare out of the hazy window for the remainder of the journey.
Once the cab arrived at the station, I hauled my things out of the car, paid the driver who barely acknowledged me, and trudged into King's Cross, hunching my shoulders to fight off some of the icy wind that was swirling through the misty morning air. The station was rather empty, which was a relief; it made ducking through the brick wall much easier due to the absence of prying eyes. Shining in all her burgundy and black glory, the Hogwarts Express sat still on the tracks, the slow bustle of its operators the only movement besides one or two other students milling about that had arrived even earlier than I had.
I plopped down on a bench lining one of the brick columns, gladly shoving off my rather heavy packs and sighing. The clock that was attached to the column to my left read that I still had another two or so hours before the train was set to depart, so I decided to pull out a book to read while waiting, hoping that the time passed fast.
As the minutes went on, more and more students entered through the wall, some chattering excitedly, some sitting silently, like me. There weren't many people, as I expected, because classes didn't resume until Monday, and many of Hogwart's occupants wanted to spend as much time as possible at home with their families. I suspected that many of the people here though, like myself, wanted the exact opposite. I said hello to a few students I knew, though none were really more than acquaintances, and finally, the call came to begin loading onto the train to return to school. Picking up my bags, I made my way onto the train along with the rest of the crowd, selecting an empty compartment to sit in, hoping to catch up on some sleep that evaded my grasp last night.
The soft seats provided a wonderful makeshift bed, and I made myself comfortable, using an extra sweater as a little pillow to rest my head on. Because of my tired state, the ride passed quickly, and soon I was blinking open my sleep-heavy eyes at the noise of rapping knuckles on the compartment door, a kind voice letting me know it was time to get off. As I wrestled my eyes open, I noticed it was Luna who had woken me, and I offered her a small smile, sitting up and stretching my arms overhead.
Luna opened the door for me once I grabbed my things. "Didn't get much rest last night?" She asked in that familiar, dreamy voice of hers, her white-blonde hair floating around her as if an invisible wind fluttered around her.
I shook my head. "No, not really," I answered, following her off the train.
She hummed to herself. "You know, you might have some Wrackspurts following you around. They make your brain all fuzzy and odd."
I had no idea whether or not Wrackspurts were real, though I had heard her talk about them on a few occasions, and merely responded with, "You know, Luna, you may be right."
"If you want, I can help you get rid of them," She offered kindly as she got into an empty carriage, holding her hand out and gesturing for me to hand her a bag.
I pulled the lighter one off my shoulder and held it out to her, giving her a smile as thanks. Climbing into the carriage, I sat opposite her, the left side of my face unmissable as it was lit by the dim winter afternoon sun.
Luna furrowed her blonde eyebrows. "Are you alright, Elaine? That looks like it hurts." Her soft voice was full of concern, and I waved my hand dismissively, not ready to get into it.
"You know me, always a bit clumsy. Just fell down and hit my head," I lied, and because Luna was quite smart, I knew she didn't believe me, but because it was Luna, she simply nodded and pulled out her copy of The Quibbler , it's bright cover full of odd creatures and advertising a story inside on something called Moon Frogs.
The silence as we approached the looming castle was cozy, as it always was with Luna. I shivered, even in my heavy sweater, and hoped that the common room fire was roaring when we arrived. I walked with Luna to the Ravenclaw tower once we arrived, her focus still entirely taken up by her odd magazine, even as we walked up the winding staircase to the top of the rather tall structure. We passed a handful of people on our way, most of whom had stayed over the entire holiday break, their conversations full of what they got for Christmas and what the next term was going to be like.
At the mention of presents, I remembered the one that I had found in my pack from Hermione and Cho, and as soon as Luna and I had answered the riddle and made our way to our shared dormitory, the first thing I did was pull out the perfectly wrapped present. The wrapping paper was a shiny silver, and the little tag read To: Our lovely Lainy From: Hermione and Cho followed by a small heart that made me smile. Carefully pulling apart the paper, the wrapping revealed a beautiful new set of mittens in a gorgeous dark green, along with a breathtakingly bound new book about wizard poetry and short stories. I nearly sighed out loud as I slipped my hands into the warm wool, so grateful for such a seemingly small gift from my two wonderful friends. Lifting the mittens out of the wrapping paper had revealed a small, folded up note that I had to take the mittens off to unfold.
Dear Elaine,
Happy Christmas!Cho knitted the mittens herself, as you know I am horrid at knitting, but the idea was mine after I saw that you didn't have any this year, and I picked out the book. We both love you terribly, and hope that you like them! Can't wait to see you after break.
With love,
Hermione and Cho
Happiness swelled in me as I surveyed their wonderful gift, though a bit of guilt began creeping in as I realized that I hadn't gotten them, or any of my friends anything, due the limited amount of money I had. I knew they would understand, but I still wished that I could show them how much I cared for them by giving them something.
Placing the mittens and book gently on my nightstand, I began unpacking my things, shoving my extra possessions from home haphazardly in my trunk, promising myself I would sort through them later. For now, though, all I wanted to do was go down to the Great Hall and eat my fair share of the delectable food that was always present. Luna declined my offer of joining me, saying that she wanted to go hunt down some wild creature she had read about in The Quibbler , but told me to enjoy myself as I exited the dorm.
The halls were rather quiet as I walked, and I enjoyed the comforting absence of noise. Even the Great Hall was rather empty at that time, and once I had eaten myself nearly sick with the warm, spiced food, I decided perhaps a nice visit to Hagrid was in order. As I braved the freezing weather, I wished that I had brought my new gloves with me, shoving my hands as deep as I could into my pants pockets instead. Knocking quickly on his hut's wooden door, my face burst into a giant grin as Hagrid's massive form filled his small doorway.
"Elaine!" He bellowed happily, gathering me into a crushing hug, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "How are ya?"
I pulled back as he let go, laughing softly. "Just wonderful! Yourself?"
My joy plummeted as Hagrid's previously excited face dropped into a frown. "Tell me that black eye ain't where I think it's from," He said, a rare anger filling his gruff voice.
"It's really okay," I started, knowing it was no use lying to him. "It was the last time it'll ever happen."
Hagrid ushered me out of the cold as I spoke, sitting me down in front of the roaring fire and pouring some steaming tea into a massive mug that he handed me before he poured one for himself and sat in the huge chair on the other side of the fire.
"Whaddya mean, the last time?" He inquired, his face full of concern.
I took a sip of the piping tea before answering, the warmth burning my mouth slightly as I swallowed the honey and orange flavor. "My father and I got into it, and I guess he finally had enough of me, so he kicked me out," I explained, the twin feelings of relief and anxiety twirling around me.
"Kicked you out?" Hagrid asked, setting down his mug sharply. "If I ever get my hands on your sorry excuse for a father, if he ever lays a hand on you again, I---"
I cut him off. "No, no, I think it's a good thing. This means I don't have to go back. I'll find somewhere else to live before the end of the year or... I dunno, maybe Dumbledore would let me stay here over the summer. I don't know," I repeated, gazing into the orange blaze in front of me. "I don't know, but I'll figure it out."
Hagrid shook his head, his bushy beard swaying with the movement. "Yer always welcome here, okay? I know it's not much," He said, his eyes sweeping his small hut. "But I figure it's better than nothin'."
I felt tears prick my eyes, and I took another sip of the slowly cooling tea to stop my eyes from watering. "Thank you, Hagrid. It means the world to me. This would be a wonderful place to stay. I'll let you know, okay?" I said softly, and though the hut wasn't fancy or spacious, his offer really did mean more to me than I could ever say.
I stayed a while longer, sipping my tea as Hagrid told me about his excursion to the mountains to visit his giant half-brother, who seemed like a very interesting character. Hagrid's stories never failed to make me laugh wildly, especially his excessive gestures with his rather large hands, and I felt some of the sadness slip away and burn up in the heat of the crackling flames and the sweet taste of my tea.
After an hour or so, I bid Hagrid farewell, earning another bone-crushing hug from him, and faced the icy weather once again. As the air bit at my nose, I suddenly remembered the Felix Felicis that I had stashed away under my mattress at the beginning of the school year, and I could've smacked myself in frustration. It had completely slipped my mind between everything that had gone on since September, and I found myself itching to use it soon. I made a mental note about it, swearing to myself to find a situation where I could finally test out its effects, which made me a bit excited. The possibilities were genuinely quite endless, and I pondered what I could use it for as I briskly made my way to the protection of the solid stone walls of the castle.
Of course.
Harry. I would use it right before I told Harry how I felt; that way, I wouldn't be nervous. I knew it lasted an hour or so, but beyond that, I wasn't really sure exactly how it worked.
Guess you'll find out.
I grinned to myself, excited to use it and excited to see my friends after two long weeks. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, but I figured I still had a few hours before the rest of Hogwarts returned, so I decided to make good on my promise to myself and go to the Room of Requirement to find a piano and finally play again. It had been so long since I had even felt the urge to play, and much longer since I had actively sought out to do so. I longed for the feel of the smooth ivory keys beneath my fingertips, so I wound through the corridors as quickly as I could until turning into the non-descript hallway that held the marvelously secret room.
The tapestry that hung opposite of the room that depicted Barnabas the Barmy floated gently in an invisible wind as I approached the normally plain wall, which began transforming into a beautifully ornate metal door. The handle was cold as I went to heave open the heavy door, but I was met with a delicious warmth as I entered. I had never been in this version of the room before, with piles of books and scrolls and a massive couch and an odd, tall cabinet and... oh.
Against the right wall lay the nicest piano I had ever laid eyes on. It was a deep, almost-black midnight blue, the keys gleaming dimly in the lantern light. The lid was propped open to reveal the complicated strings, and the bench was the perfect height as I sat down, almost afraid to touch it, afraid to dirty it with my fingerprints. I could hardly resist for more than a few seconds after I spotted the large shelf to the left of the piano that was brimming with sheet music. I rifled through the rows until I found a piece that I was a bit familiar with and that looked simple enough, and I sat down, letting out a deep exhale as I brought my hands down on the keys. The sound that floated out was almost enough to make my chest seize with nostalgia, the floating melody swallowing me in its beauty.
It had been years since I had dared to play, and though my fingers stumbled a bit, soon my muscles remembered the movements and I was entirely engrossed in producing the melancholy tune; so engrossed, in fact, that I didn't notice I had company until I faltered on a note and heard a snicker behind me.
Whirling around, the obnoxiously lean figure of Malfoy stood a few feet behind me. I felt frustration storm in me as I saw him, not yet ready to stop playing.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" I questioned, swinging around and standing up off the bench.
Malfoy was wearing a rather expensive-looking charcoal sweater, a white collar sticking out beneath the v-neck. It hugged his shoulders and arms quite tightly, showing off the lithe muscle that just seemed to build and build this year. He slid his hands in his pockets, looking annoyingly relaxed. "I could ask you the same. I thought others couldn't get into this room. It's mine."
I snorted. "Yours? I came in here to play piano. What, did your daddy force you to take lessons as a kid and still makes you practice?"
Malfoy's silver eyes flickered almost unnoticeably to the looming cabinet on the far wall. "None of your business, Adler. Nice black eye, by the way," He sneered, stepping toward me. "Must've been a pretty solid hit to get such a shiner." His smile was unnerving as he studied my face.
"Fuck off. I fell," I defended, trying to sound as forceful as possible, sticking with the same lie I had fed Luna. I hoped that Malfoy would actually buy it.
Malfoy barked out a laugh. "Sure, Adler. I'm not a fucking idiot. I know a black eye from a punch when I see it. Did your father finally get tired of your ugly face, or could he just not put up with his pathetic offspring any longer?"
Fury bit at me as he spoke, his drawl easy even as his words were harsh. "I told you, Malfoy. I fucking fell. Drop it," I warned, though genuine pain had snuck into my voice, making my voice splinter, making me grit my jaw.
I must've been more tired than I thought, or the dim light was playing tricks, because I could've sworn I saw a glimmer of something akin to unease flash in Malfoy's stormy eyes before that coldness rushed in again.
"You're a damn idiot if you think anyone will believe that, especially with what they know about your father," Malfoy retorted, sitting on the arm of the couch casually, as if he wasn't addressing my issues with my father.
All the warmth and joy that had been building up in me since I got back was washed away by a wave of fiery hatred towards the pale boy sitting a few feet in front of me, his blond hair glinting in the lamplight, his skin looking nearly translucent and the veins on his strong hands popped in the shadows of the wanly lit room. He was the perfect picture of confidence, of arrogance as he sat berating me.
"You don't know what you're talking about. I fell, " I insisted, not entirely sure why it was so important to me that Malfoy believed my little fallacy. "You can think whatever you want; I don't care."
Oh, yes, you do .
"Then why, Adler, are you trying so hard to convince me? Why do you care what I believe happened?" Malfoy questioned, his eyes piercing my own, making my blood heat.
"I don't," I said simply, though it was a lie. "You're just a cocky bastard who thinks he knows everything. You don't, okay?" I hadn't moved from my spot, but Malfoy suddenly stood, his aura of ease slipping away as he approached, stopping when he was right in front of me.
"I know far more than you think," Malfoy responded, his eyes traveling the length of the splatter of purples and reds lining my eye and temple. "I know what it looks like when someone gets hit in the face by someone else." It was left unsaid, but the implication was there; he knew, because he had seen it on himself many times. "I know what that pounding headache feels like the next day, and I know that every movement of your face makes it ache."
He reached out with a long, thin thumb, his skin cool as he lightly brushed my aching bruise once, twice, before dropping his hand quickly. I nearly flinched back as he lifted his hand, but at the uncharacteristically soft motions, my heart pounded as he touched me, the movement so unlike him, so...gentle. I winced when he pressed a bit too hard near the corner of my eye, and I felt a disturbing mix of gratefulness and sadness as he pulled away that was immediately reduced to rage as he spoke his next words. "What did you do to make your father hit you?"
My face twisted with shock. "What did I do to make him ? You're a fucking prick, you know that? I didn't do anything," I retorted angrily, stepping back out of his reach, though the icy ghost of his hand still lingered on my warming face, and I prayed it was simply heating up from the frustration and not because that prick had touched me.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, but spoke again. "Fine, Adler. Semantics. What happened, then?"
"Why do you even care? So you can throw it back in my face later?" I questioned, rather confused as to why he was even interested outside of wanting to use it to hurt me at a later time.
"What, I can't be curious? You've shown up back to school with a nasty black eye, one that is impossible to miss, and you're angry because I asked what happened?" Malfoy snorted. "You're ridiculous."
I let out a breath of frustration. "Yes, because it is so insane for me to assume that you would use something like this against me, even though I never spoke a word about what happened the last time we were in here to anyone," I snarled, feeling the tension of rage in my entire body.
Ignoring my mention of that night, he persisted. "What happened?"
"God, is that all you can say? I fell. Believe me, or don't, but that's what happened," I snapped, going to turn away from him, but as I did, an iron grip clamped onto my bicep, making me jerk and turn back towards Malfoy. "What the hell? Let go," I demanded, but he only yanked me closer, close enough to smell his cologne and the faint scent of fresh laundry.
"What happened?" Malfoy asked once more, this time in a softer tone, though the hand that was wrapped around my sweater-clad arm was tight enough that I thought it might bruise. His face was close to mine; his silver eyes shining with tenacity, his rosy lips pressed in a tight line. My eyes stuck on the tiniest bits of blond stubble lining his jaw before I spoke, moved by the pain in my arm.
"Fine. He hit me, okay? Is that what you want to hear? My father fucking punched me, and then told me to get out and never come back," I hissed, tears of anger burning my nose. "I stood up to my stupid father, and he hit me and then kicked me out. Happy?"
Malfoy didn't say anything for a few seconds, his grip still tight on my arm. "See, was that so hard?" He asked, almost...kindly?
No, not kindly. You're just tired.
"Why do you care so damn much anyways?" I asked once more, trying to tug my arm once, twice, out of his lethal grip.
He studied my face for a moment, an odd look on his face, as if he were asking himself that same question.
"Why?" I persisted, curious as to why this boy, who had never been anything but vile to me, was suddenly so interested in what had hurt me, when he had only ever laughed at my pain before.
A strange emotion flashed in Malfoy's stormcloud eyes before he let go of my arm like it had burnt him. "Get out."
It was said so softly I could barely hear him, but I still replied, "What? No, I was here first."
His calm demeanor vanished in a heartbeat, fire lighting his eyes with rage. "Get. Out!" He yelled, so loudly that I visibly flinched, an odd hurt and sadness shooting through me from his harsh tone.
I stood there shocked, before he yelled, "Now!" He was practically spitting, he was so furious. I had no clue what had caused his sudden change, but I had no interest in already being in the path of his fury on my first day back, so I rushed past him, looking back only as I opened the door. He was still where he stood, his hands shaking and his breathing slightly ragged.
The freezing corridor air met my cheeks in a stinging kiss as I shut the door quickly behind me, confused and tired. Malfoy had always acted a bit odd, but he had never done something like this.
He had never... cared. Not about me, and I was fairly certain he didn't care about anyone at all, for that matter. The black eye was noticeable, I knew that, but if I had to deal with pestering from everyone like Malfoy, I was tempted to just hide in my dormitory until it faded into an unnoticeable yellow.
The thing that really threw me most as I began making my way back to the Ravenclaw common room was the fact that he had been concerned about what had happened, and not so that he could use it against me later. That, I truly did not understand, and I had a feeling I might never understand it. I hated that it sparked something in me, a low flame in my core, especially as I thought of his ice-cold finger brushing my face and the way he didn't recoil immediately at the feeling of my skin against his.
"Hate" is not the right word.
I sighed angrily, brushing back the tendrils of hair that had sprung loose from my bun from earlier that morning. I refused to acknowledge that him pulling me in, being so persistant and so concerned one moment and acting as though merely touching me disgusted him the next caused my heart to contract.
It did, though, and I couldn't, with all my rationale and wisdom as a damn Ravenclaw, figure out why.
Rounding the corner into the main stairwell of the castle, I noticed the huge crowds of students freshly in from the cold, judging by their flushed cheeks and stiff bodies, and excitement surged through me, realizing this meant my friends had finally returned. I had ended up closer to the Gryffindor common room, so I decided to rush there first, wanting to embrace my companions in massive hugs and thank Hermione for the gift. Bounding up the stairs, I pushed past a few students that gave me dirty looks, but I brushed it off, my only focus on seeing my friends again after such an awful holiday. Finally, just as I reached the final set of stairs, I caught a quick glimpse of a bright ginger head and a darker one beside it, and my face split into a huge smile. They reached the landing first, and as the crowded cleared a bit, I noticed that it was Ginny, not Ron, that was with Harry, and that her fingers were intertwined with Harry's, a shy smile plastered on her lips as he leaned down to press a soft peck to her mouth.
My breath stopped, cut short by the shock, my blood turning to ice as I reached the landing outside the common room as well. I couldn't help the cold jealousy that flooded me as I looked at Ginny, her long, red hair smooth and perfectly straight, her body thin and tall; everything about her was so stupidly ideal. A sour, horrid feeling sunk my stomach as Ginny noticed me first, and pushed Harry gently off her, too gently, and he whirled around, his handsome face immediately dropping with guilt.
Good.
"Elaine, I--" Harry began, faltering as Hermione and Ron appeared from the stairwell, their hands intertwined as well, and I felt as though I was going to be sick.
Hermione noticed the pain on my face, and let go of Ron's hand to reach out for mine, but I kept mine glued to my side. "Harry, you said you told her," She accused, pointing a stern look his way, one that made even Ron balk.
"I--I said I was going to," Harry stammered, clearly caught off guard. "But---but..."
It was just then that he noticed my eye, and all my friend's gazes followed. "Elaine, your eye...what---"
I cut Harry off. "I should've known, and it's my fault for thinking you'd ever choose anyone over her," I said, gesturing to Ginny, whom I knew wasn't really at fault, but I still couldn't help the bitterness that bloomed in my chest at the sight of her. "I'm glad I found out like this. Otherwise, I would've kept making a fool of myself for you to laugh at. Was any of what you claimed to feel for me even real?" Part of me wanted him to say no, but another part of me desperately hoped he'd say yes.
I didn't know, though, which would be worse.
"I didn't lie to you, okay? I never could lie to you, Elaine, you're my closest friend. I--I just," Harry seemed to not be able to find the right words, find the words that could possibly assuage any of his guilt that was plastered on his face. "I just realized I felt things for Ginny for a while now, and you helped me see that."
I laughed, the sound packed with ire and sourness. "Well, that's just wonderful. I am so glad that your little excursion with me was just a way to make you see you really wanted someone else."
Hermione and Ron were still looking a bit shocked, and that comforted me somewhat, because at least I knew that I had them still.
"Elaine, come on, that isn't fair," Harry argued, stepping forward to do...something, but I stepped back, running into the cool stone banister behind me.
"Oh, that isn't fair? I am so sorry, Harry," I spat. "You're right. I'm not being fair."
Hermione and Ginny both winced at my tone, but I continued. "I had the most awful two weeks, and I was coming here to tell you," I said angrily, poking his chest, "That I wanted to be with you, but I guess Ginny beat me to it."
Ginny gulped. "Listen, it wasn't what you're thinking. I-I don't know how it happened, really. You two were never really technically...together, anyways, were you?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to look childish in the face of this mess. "You know what? You're right. Harry never said he wanted to be with me like that, so it's okay for him to just mess with my feelings and move on to another girl and I should just be fine with it, because why would my closest friend tell me the truth? Why should he spare me the decency of telling me first that he didn't like me in that way before he moved on?" I spat, my eyes narrowing in a hostile glare towards Harry, and I tried not to wince as the movement pulled on the tender skin of my temple.
The hurt was there, and it was overwhelming, and I could've sworn hateful tears were going to pour down my face at any second, but the anger and the vindictiveness was far easier to focus on right now. It wouldn't make me fall apart to embrace the fire building in me.
"I'm sorry. Really, Elaine, more than you know," Harry pleaded, and everyone else's eyes on us felt far too intrusive.
I shook my head. "Save it, Potter, for someone who will actually listen to your shit. My bad for believing that you would ever stoop low enough to be with me."
An unfair blow, and I almost regretted it once the words registered on Harry's face.
Almost.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I had, quite frankly, heard enough, my temper running even shorter than normal due to the bizarre encounter with Malfoy just minutes earlier. Turning to Ron and Hermione, I said genially, "Thanks for the gift. I'll see the two of you later."
Hermione smiled softly at me, and Ron was still red in the face from the stressful situation, so he just nodded in agreement. I could feel Harry's gaze on me as I turned, and though it would've felt so good to let the tears go right then, I held them in until I reached the privacy of my empty room, and let all my sadness and hurt and confusion about the events of the day out in the form of quiet sobs.