The bleak mid-morning sun shone through my window as I lay in my bed, my body feeling heavy and drained of life. I couldn't find the effort to even peel open my eyes as I heard the soft ambient sounds of my roommates getting ready for their weekends. A faint throbbing headache swelled behind my eyes, offering a momentary distraction before the events of the previous night began flooding my mind, accompanied by a horrible wave of bitter regret.
The embarrassment was suffocating as I recalled the whorish way I had tried to undress not only myself, but Draco as well. I could still feel the grip of his hands in my hair, holding my face. I couldn't discern whether to race into the shower and scrub till my skin was raw and red or if I wanted to savor it until the very last traces were gone.
God, I was fucked .
It wasn't just the touching or the kissing or even the undressing that made my stomach churn with mortification. Nor was it the concrete rejection Draco had thrown at me so suddenly, though that did make my face heat with renewed shame. No, it was the way . . . I had given in to Draco. I had a chance to walk away from the confusing dance the two of us had begun to do during the past few months, and I hadn't .
Neither had he.
I hated not knowing how I felt. At least, that's what I told myself in a weak attempt to continue the lie I had been telling myself since...since the day I had slapped him in Potions. He had cornered me like a deadly snake with a mouse. As a result, hidden beneath the panic and fright, was a dim flame of attraction that had only burned brighter since.
I should've been sure of how I felt. I should've felt repulsion at the very notion of longing for Draco in such an intimate way. It had been far easier to just dismiss anything that happened between us up until this point, but now? Now, I knew I couldn't keep fooling myself.
Now I knew why I hadn't walked away last night, and I knew why he hadn't either. As much as I wished it weren't true, I knew the answer. I also knew that fate, or karma, or whoever it was that controlled my life was a twisted, sadistic bitch.
Why else would I have feelings for...
I shook my head, pain ricocheting through my skull, to clear the thought from my mind. Self-denial, apparently, was something that I couldn't shake so easily. Cho's voice cut through my trainwreck of thoughts, making me finally pry open my tired, swollen eyes.
"Rough night?"
I nodded slowly, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. "You could say that."
Understatement of my fucking life.
Cho sat down on the side of the bed and I turned my gaze towards her. "I'm going down to Hogsmead with Hermione and Luna. Why don't you come with us? We could have some girl time. Could be a good way to take your mind off things," She offered, giving me a sympathetic smile.
I contemplated her suggestion for a moment, though really, it was only for show. There was no way I had any energy to be around people today, let alone hold a substantial conversation with anyone. Not with the way I felt. It was as if I was going to be sick every three seconds as glimpses of last night flickered through my mind like the world's most humiliating slideshow.
"I've got that essay on brooms for Flitwick's class to work on. I've not even started it," I told her, which was true, but I left out the part where all I wanted was to be left utterly alone to wallow in my self-hatred.
Disappointment flashed in Cho's warm brown eyes, but she just nodded with understanding. "Well, if you happen to change your mind..."
"I'll let you know," I said, flashing her as much of a smile as I could muster. It was nice, having her back, and I was glad that the childish fight we had hadn't ruined our friendship.
Cho smiled at me again and patted my leg gently before standing up and heading down to breakfast. My stomach lurched with disdain, but I knew I should probably eat something soon. Maybe some water, too, to ease the throbbing that seemed to only worsen as I slowly sat up.
Speaking of, I faintly recalled Draco telling me I should drink some. My breath hitched in my chest as I replayed the end of last night in my mind; Draco rejecting me, telling me that he didn't want to be another reason I hated alcohol, then almost gently suggesting I have some water.
Though my recollections were blurry behind the veil of intoxication, there was no doubt it had been real. Draco had actually...shown concern. Which sounded entirely foreign though I was sure I hadn't dreamed it. The concern was strange enough, but the message behind the concern was even stranger.
The thrum of sheer gratitude that coursed through me nearly brought me to tears. It wasn't if I hadn't known what I was doing last night; I had and I had enjoyed it. But to go that far with Draco, in that state, would've taken something from me. Something mentally that I wouldn't have come back from. He, for all his insensitivity towards the subject of my father, had somehow known that. He had known just how deeply that would've injured me. Somehow, he knew that becoming like that man was one of my greatest fears. Me acting under the influence, in any capacity, would've done just that.
And somehow, he had cared enough to make sure that I didn't let myself fall into that dark pit full of the ever-looming threat that whispered to me that I could turn out like the man who had once been my best friend.
Maybe it should have bothered me that he knew me so innately, but perhaps it made me think differently of him, just slightly.
The room had emptied minutes ago, leaving me alone to get ready for the day. Rolling out of bed, my movements were sluggish as I changed, made my bed, and threw on an outfit that was barely beyond pajamas. It was an effort just searching for the motivation to endure the upcoming day. What little I did find wasn't going to last, so I skipped breakfast and made my way up to the library.
Flitwick had assigned a rather extensive essay on the magic surrounding brooms, and as much as I loved flying, charms had never been my strongest subject. I was hoping to be able to just half-ass it and that Flitwick wouldn't grade too harshly.
Between the snow that had fallen overnight and the ever-increasing amount of work professors had been assigning; the majority of eligible students were away at Hogsmeade, p rocrastinating. The library, to my relief, was entirely deserted aside from Madam Pince; who was reading intently at her desk. I mumbled a soft greeting to her as I entered. She barely looked up at me, humming a response before returning to the story she had been avidly devouring before I entered.
Finding the most secluded table possible, I sat my things down before wandering through the rows of books, hoping to find any information regarding my essay. The topic was one of the simplest subjects Flitwick had assigned this year so I quickly found a few dusty, leather-bound books that seemed helpful.
After returning to my private corner and titling the yellowed piece of parchment, I flipped open the first volume I had picked out. My eyesight started to swim when seeing the small print on the page. I sighed, realizing I had forgotten to get water. My headache wasn't the worst I'd ever had, not by a long shot, but my mouth felt full of cotton. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus until I fixed myself.
I pushed out of the chair, wooden legs scraping across the floor, and winced at the grating sound. The noise scratched viciously at the pain behind my eyes. Before I could stand up, I felt someone over my shoulder.
"The Flying charm? Shouldn't you have already learned that?" Draco drawled from behind, his voice causing me to tense, my hand tightening around my quill.
Kill. Me. Now.
"Guess Flitwick wanted us to learn it again," I mumbled, refusing to look over my shoulder. I didn't want Draco to see the humiliation that tinted my cheeks as the heat from his body brought vivid feelings from last night slamming back into me.
He hummed, but remained peering over my shoulder. I could feel his breath.
I did my best to build a wall against his presence, but I couldn't even get through a sentence without my thoughts darting to the smell of his cologne at my back. I found myself re-reading the same line three times before speaking again.
"Did you need something?"
"Does it hurt your hand to write?"
My face blanked with confusion, but I still refused to look at him. "Um, not terribly," I lied. It did, but letting Dean help me the day before had been hard enough.
Shit. Dean.
Draco cleared his throat, the sound making me grimace as my headache throbbed.
"Does your head hurt?"
Annoyed by all the questions, I finally turned to face him. I caught the gasp that nearly left my mouth, but I couldn't help the way that my heart sped up at the sight of him. He was wearing a suit of deepest black . Everything, from the shoes to the shirt to the tie. It hugged his broad shoulders, the muscles there still prevalent under the layering. The contrast against his marble-white skin and hair was sinful. Like white stars amid a black sky. It was reminiscent of a greek statue depicting the face of an ancient god.
I remember seeing one when I was little on a field trip to a museum when I was in primary school. The statue had made my mouth drop when I had first seen it. The cheekbones and nose had been so elegantly carved, every sinew of muscle created with masterful precision. I had marveled at the beauty of the work and told my teacher that I thought the man in the marble was very beautiful. She told me, rather sternly, that men couldn't be beautiful. They were just handsome .
Looking at Draco now, his silver eyes studying me, it was impossible to agree with her. There was something so ethereal about how the suit fit his body. Something so decadent about the veins running under the skin of his hands. His long fingers . . . so elegant. I hardly needed to try imagining it; I could already feel them. Cool and firm, trailing . . . down . . .
Stop.
It wasn't a new suit; I had seen it plenty during the course of the year, though, something was different this time. Maybe it was because he wasn't berating me while wearing it this time. Maybe it was because I had a headache that was making my head spin slightly.
Or maybe, it was because I had always been too arrogant, too scared , to let myself really look at the bewitching dark prince who stood in front of me.
"Uh, no," I answered lamely, much too aware of the time that had passed since he asked the question.
Draco's brow quirked up, indicating that he didn't believe me. Though he didn't press the matter. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was standing in front of me, looking like a wicked god, and I—
I was wearing worn black sweats and a grey zip-up that probably smelled like sleep and sweat.
Christ, I really am fucked if I care so much about what I'm wearing .
I turned away from him, praying my face wasn't colored with blush, but I knew that was a foolish hope. I just wanted him to leave so I could work on this essay, but apparently, things weren't in my favor today. Or last night. Or ever.
Draco swung around the chair next to me, straddling it with his long, suit-clad legs. His arms rested on the back of the chair. I had to do my best to stuff down the little part of my brain that reminded me where those legs had been not even twelve hours ago.
It was shocking, to say the least, that he was even willing to be seen with me during daylight. Perhaps it was the seclusion of my spot that made him more inclined to risk being around me so publicly. My muscles were so tense with apprehension that I felt I was going to break. The words in front of me were so incredibly dull compared to the way that his slim fingers tapped softly on the wooden chair. His ring was clacking quietly against the hard surface, and though the sound was barely audible, it felt like thunder in my head. But I couldn't very well just stare at his hands like a gawking idiot, so I forced myself to focus solely on the yellowing paper. Not that it did much.
The way his fingers flexed sent fire coursing through me as I remembered how they had curled around my throat. Here I was, my mind drowning in the memory of his dastardly touch, and Draco was acting so casual. As if sitting in the library next to me while I worked was the most normal thing in the world.
It irked me more than anything that he was so nonchalant . Especially after last night ! As much as I wished otherwise, last night had changed things between us. At least a little bit. I knew how he felt now. I would've even if he hadn't told me outright. He might as well have screamed it given how he'd dragged me away from Dean so quickly.
Had-had last night not affected him as much as it did me?
I realized that, once again, I wasn't really reading any of the pages in front of me, and I shook my head, annoyed at my own flighty thought pattern. Dipping my quill into the black ink in front of me, I began scratching down information on the charm, though I could already tell this would be far from my best work. Flitwick was sure to ask why it was so poorly done, considering that I normally produced quite decent papers, but I would deal with that later. Usually, I took great pride in my writing ability and I wondered just how much Draco had messed with my head to where I barely cared at all.
"You know," Draco spoke, and I nearly jumped, the low timbre of his voice rumbling through my skull. "For as much as you love Quidditch, I thought you'd know more about this. Guess I shouldn't be too surprised though." His voice wasn't unkind, merely curious, but it still stung.
Irritation bit at my skin, and I didn't look up as I responded. "What, because I'm a Muggleborn?"
Draco shrugged, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his expensive suit. "Just saying. You Muggles have so much to catch up on. Seeing as you've no idea we even exist until you get your letters. I'm surprised you get as good grades as you do."
I furrowed my brow at his compliment. A backhanded one, sure, but...almost a compliment nonetheless. "I've always done well in school," I said shortly.
" Always is a bit of a stretch."
I sighed angrily, slamming down my quill to face him, taking in the neutral look in his eyes. "Did you sit down with the sole purpose of annoying me, or do you just have nothing better to do?"
"Oh, I have plenty of things to do," he replied, not truly answering my question. "You think being around you is my ideal way to spend the morning?"
Then why the hell are you here?
"Could you at least have the decency to be quiet while I'm working? I can't think with you around," I snapped, and his mouth tilted up in a miniscule smirk. Not that it showcased his arrogance and less.
"Why's that?" He asked innocently, the gleam in his eyes anything but. The silver of his ring glinted in the cloudy sunlight streaming through the window, and again I recalled the icy feeling of it pressing into my skin.
I cursed myself internally. "I just...I just can't, okay," I grumbled.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Tell me."
"Can't you just piss off?" I asked, anger sharpening my voice but Draco seemed unphased.
I still wasn't over the oddity of the whole situation. Draco had purposefully sat down and talked to me. Most of it wasn't even unpleasant! Could last night really have...
No. Don't be stupid. It doesn't matter what he said.
It didn't matter that the memory of his words urged me to reach out and press my lips to his. That he looked so much like a wickedly alluring god of death in his black suit. That made me wish he hadn't stopped me from undressing.
It didn't matter, but it did. Everything he did mattered so much and I despised it with every fiber of my soul.
It was so damn exhausting to be at war with myself so constantly.
"Don't be rude, E-Adler" Draco snapped, making me blanch. "I'm just sitting here 'til Pansy gets the book she needs."
Pansy .
How in all hell had I forgotten about Pansy? His precious little Pansy. Whom he actually wouldn't be ashamed to be seen with in public. Pansy, who was...
Prettier? Smarter? A pureblood?
"Won't your little girlfriend be upset when she sees you sitting with me?" I shot back. "She already seems to hate me just because you fucking talk to me."
"Trust me, Adler. That isn't why she hates you," he muttered. The answer piqued my curiosity but I didn't dare ask what her reasoning was.
"I hate you because you're fucking annoying and you look like shit," Pansy's nasally voice pierced the relativly calm air. Her pointed face wrinkled with disdain as she looked at me. "Honestly, how are you not embarrassed to be seen like that?"
Her expression crumpled with disgust as she took in my wrinkled clothes, my hair tied in a sloppy bun, and I had to stop myself from trying to cover up my plainness. Draco let out a snort and my stomach dropped. He stood up and sauntered over to Pansy, her face beaming at him as he moved away from me.
He swept Pansy up in an embrace, facing her away from me as I watched his strong arms wrap around her waist, his muscles flexing under the material of his suit as he moved. She giggled as she was lifted off her feet when he spun them. His eyes drilled into me as he leaned to place a passionate kiss on Pansy's mouth as he set her on the ground.
Seeing Draco kiss her made me sick. The look in his eyes was so lofty, so smug . My eyes started to burn and I knew tears would soon follow if I didn't get out of that goddamn library. I couldn't even describe the cracking in my chest; I just knew I had to get out because it felt like the walls were closing in on me, suffocating me. I tore my eyes away from Draco's and hurriedly gathered my things. Leaving the books splayed out on the table. There was a twinge of guilt for not putting them away, but it was overwhelmed quickly by...not jealousy, but something .
It wasn't jealousy that made my stomach sink as Pansy slid her hands up the broad planes of Draco's chest. It wasn't jealousy that made my vision burn red as he let out a soft sound of appreciation at her touch.
It wasn't .
The barrage of horrible names I called myself in my head for believing that anything had changed would have made the most seasoned sailor uneasy. With all my parchment in hand, I ducked past the pair, willing that the tears wouldn't flow until I was safe and secluded. I could hear snickering behind me as I left, but I didn't want to see who it was from.
Finally reaching the door, I stepped out only to collide with a solid warmth that sent me sprawling to the ground. That was the final straw and hot tears trailed down my cheeks as I gathered what had spilled from my arms.
"Elaine, I'm so sorry!" It was Harry's voice.
Of course. Of course it was Harry, because this day wasn't bad enough already .
"It's fine," I mumbled quietly, ignoring the hand he held out. I stood, trying to discreetly wipe the wetness from my face.
"I was actually just coming up here to look for you. Cho told me you might be here."
"Really," I said quietly as I brushed myself off.
"So do you want to tell me why someone told me they saw Malfoy drag you out of Seamus' party last night and why they saw you after that with half your clothes hanging off stumbling back to your dormitory?" Harry said, his words stern and angry. "Because I know damn well what exactly that sounds like to me."
The tears that had spilled over stopped stinging my eyes as shock took over. "And why is that any of your business?"
"Yes, Potter, please enlighten us," Draco cut in as he walked out of the library, his arm slung around Pansy.
I winced at his voice. Why did Draco always have to show up at the worst time possible? Why couldn't he stay away and not make everything worse? Even if Harry had suspected anything, Draco wouldn't have cared a single bit. He hadn't in the past.
"You told me you were studying last night," Pansy accused, and Draco shot a look at her that immediately shut her up.
" Because , Elaine," Harry continued, ignoring the two, "I think that he hurt you."
He couldn't mean...
"Just how exactly are you suggesting I hurt her?" Malfoy interjected, making Harry send him a furious glare. "Because as I recall, you were the one that fucked her and then left."
My entire body flushed with mortification. I didn't even know that he knew about that , much less how. Harry glanced at me with hurt in his eyes, like I had been the one to betray him.
"How do you-," but Draco wasn't finished.
"Weren't you her first as well? Pretty shitty of you to do that, Potter. Even I wouldn't pull something like that." he quipped.
I didn't think that was true but I had to give it to Draco; he knew exactly how to press Harry's buttons, and that's exactly what he did.
Harry gritted his teeth. "That is none of your damn business, Malfoy! Just because Elaine likes to run her mouth--"
"What? I didn't say anything about that to him!" I interrupted, looking at Harry with disbelief.
"Why wouldn't you? The two of you seem rather close now," Harry accused, scowling as he glanced between the two of us.
Since Draco was behind, I couldn't see the expression on his face, but his words were dismissive and hard. "No, we aren't."
I hated how sharp three words could feel.
"Guess you aren't the perfect hero everyone makes you out to be," Draco sneered at Harry as he stepped forward, leaving Pansy behind. "I guess even Dumbledore's precious little Potter makes mistakes sometimes."
Harry's face reddened and he met Draco's steps, now standing nearly toe to toe with him. "Like you have room to talk. You're just your fathers pet."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, the only hint that he even registered Harry's comment. "At least I have a father who's alive, you unwanted piece of shit."
"At least I'm not a piece of shit who forces himself on girls who don't want it, Malfoy. You're fucking disgusting."
Draco, normally the perfect image of composed indifference, froze, rage tensing his form as what Harry was accusing him of sunk in. "Just what are you accusing me of? I've never put my hands on Adler if she wasn't begging for it, which she was last night."
Shame tightened my throat and Pansy's face was so red with anger she resembled a freshly picked tomato. I hated Draco in that moment, mostly because he wasn't wrong. He made me seem whorish and desperate though, as if he wasn't the one who had pulled me out of the party last night because Dean had been too close. Draco and Harry were locked in a fiery staredown that seemed like it would go on forever if someone didn't do something.
"I don't believe you, you massive prick. I think that you hurt her and that she's defending you because you've fucking messed with her head one too many times," Harry growled.
"Prove it."
Harry's knuckles turned white, and I saw the rage that burned in his eyes before he swung, landing a heavy blow to Draco's jaw. Draco, letting out a low grunt, fell back a few steps, his body swaying as he struggled to remain on his feet. Pansy and I gasped simultaneously, shocked by the sudden violence.
He brought a pale hand up to rub the mark that was quickly forming. Pansy ran up to Draco, tugging on his arm, nearly in tears as she begged him to look at her, but Draco shrugged her off without a second thought. Pansy fell back dejectedly, sending me a piercing gaze that had me wondering what the hell I had done to get thrown into these situations so often.
"Not a smart move, Potter. But I wouldn't expect much else from such an uncivilized dickhead," Draco growled, and Harry had the good sense to look apprehensive as Draco loomed over him.
"What, too weak to fight back? Or did your daddy spend so much on that suit that he'll beat you if you get it dirty?" Harry fired back, apparently not ready to back down. "Bet you know exactly what his punches feel like, don't you?"
This time, Draco swung first. His hand collided with Harry's cheekbone, making him stumble back a few steps before he recovered and launched himself at Draco. Harry swung wildly, hitting Draco's nose, then his eye, before Draco landed a solid hit to his stomach, making Harry grunt with pain. I felt frozen in place, both by shock and by panic, as Draco placed a solid hit to Harry's side, the sound of flesh hitting flesh dull but violent.
The two were fighting as if their lives depended on it. Harry was sloppier, but more of his hits landed; Draco was more tactful, so the punches that did land hit their mark hard enough to make Harry grunt with pain. I felt oddly helpless as I watched them. I couldn't tell which boy my heart was breaking for as each took blows that would certainly leave marks for days.
Pansy was practically hyperventilating as she kept calling out to Draco, pleading with him to stop, but I knew that the two of them wouldn't stop for almost anything. They had six years of pent-up rage, and I suspected that fighting over, or about , me was just an excuse to let it out. Neither of them could possibly care so much about me that they'd be willing to get hit, and neither of the two were holding anything back.
Harry was breathing heavily, a trickle of bright blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, and Draco, his silver eyes glinting with unbridled rage, had scarlet dribbling from his nose and a small laceration about his left eyebrow. There was a slight lull in the fight, as if they were catching their breath, before Harry went to hit Draco again. Draco ducked under Harry's arching fist and came up on his left side, smashing a hand across his nose.
My heart was pounding wildly, and I was genuinely afraid that the two of them might actually kill each other if they weren't stopped soon. Knowing that I was insanely stupid for what I was about to do, I steeled myself. Seeing Harry pull back for another blow, I flung myself between the two bloodied boys, shouting at them.
"Please, stop!"
Draco froze immediately as I interjected myself, but Harry's windup had already begun releasing its power, and his fist sailed towards me. I didn't have enough time to do anything but flinch as his blow slammed into my arm that I flung up to protect myself. The hit wasn't as hard as it would've been because Harry had just begun to catch himself, but the momentum still made my skin sting where he had hit me. My skin throbbed almost instantly as I stumbled back a few steps. I looked up at Harry, whose face was gaunt with immediate regret.
"Shit, Elaine, I'm--"
"I'm fine," I assured him, but my voice was a bit strained as I tried to push down the tears welling in my eyes.
It wasn't that it hurt ; it hadn't really. It was just sheer shock that Harry had hit me, even on accident. I turned to Draco, glancing over his face to see the extent of the damage Harry had inflicted. His nose was red with crimson liquid now steadily pouring from one nostril, dripping over his plush lips in a violent imitation of a waterfall. The cut above his brow wasn't bleeding as much anymore, but he had a swelling bruise blossoming on his sharp jawline. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his suit was a bit askew, but he was relatively okay.
Harry still had blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, and he had purpling marks appearing on both his cheekbone and his eye. He was still panting with fury, his fists clenched as if he was having to physically stop himself from going after Draco again.
He turned to me, his eyes shining with adrenaline. "See? Is this really the kind of person you want to be spending time with?"
Draco snorted, somehow still looking haughty and impossibly regal after such a harsh fight. "You were the one who swung first, you fucking dimwit. I was only protecting myself."
"Come on, Elaine. Just--just admit you're spending time with him to make me mad, and we can just be friends again. You know I didn't mean to hurt you, with Ginny or-or just now. You don't have to punish yourself because I fell in love with Ginny."
I stared at Harry, my mouth dropping open with incredulous disbelief. "Excuse me? You think that I'm doing all this to get your attention? To make you mad? My god, Potter, you really are full of yourself."
"No, that's--"
"No, that's exactly what you meant," I told him. "You think that I am so damn heartbroken over you that I would get with any guy I could just to make you jealous. That's fucking bullshit, Potter. Do you really think your opinion matters to me anymore after all the shit you've said to me lately? You used to be my best friend, and you completely fucking bailed on me after I kissed Malfoy once , and it didn't even mean anything."
Liar, liar .
I was so angry at Harry, I realized. Angry about Ginny, about leaving me, about not being there for me when I truly needed him the most. Maybe...maybe all of my decisions with Draco had been because, deep down, I had been upset at Harry.
Or maybe I was just doing whatever I damn well pleased.
"Elaine, you can't possibly tell me that you like being around Malfoy. Why the hell are you defending him?" Harry demanded, wiping away the blood from his mouth.
I noticed Draco looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but I kept my eyes focused on Harry. "I'm not. I'm just saying that you've been a real dick to me this year, and I don't know why you think it's okay to keep trying to intervene in my life like you're my knight in shining armour. Maybe..." I sighed, willing myself not to look at Draco and see his reaction to all of this even as my mind strangely longed to make sure that he was truly alright. "Maybe there was time that you were. Or at least, I hoped you would be. I thought you would be after my father kicked me out, but you ended up just breaking my heart even more."
Remorse painted Harry's face, and I felt my heart soften a bit, but I continued. "I don't need you to save me, Harry. Not anymore. I thought, even after Ginny, you and I would be able to be friends again after I got over you. But after what you said about that night that you and Draco fought and he almost died, I realized that I-I don't need anyone to save me, not really. You have this saviour complex about everyone in your life, but people around you don't need a hero . They need a friend who isn't going to leave them when things go to shit."
"You call him Draco now? God, Elaine, what is wrong with you?" Harry shook his head, but I merely stared at him, anger bubbling ever closer to the surface.
"I've told you I'm sorry. More than once. But do you really think I can just sit back and watch you put yourself in danger by being around Malfoy? He's not safe, Elaine. He's going to hurt you. He has hurt you," Harry told me, a pleading tone entering his voice. "Malfoy doesn't give a shit about you, and you're insane if you think he does."
His words stung like his hit only a few minutes before, but I tried to keep my face blank as I answered. "I know that he doesn't. I'm not stupid enough to think he ever would, but at least he doesn't pretend. I'm much smarter than you've ever given me credit for, Harry. If you think that I could ever believe Draco wants anything to do with me beyond antagonizing me, then you truly must think I'm stupid."
As I spoke, a sorrowful tug yanked my stomach into knots. I was telling Harry exactly what I had been telling myself for Merlin knows how long, but I still didn't believe it. I hoped that I sounded more convincing to Harry that I sounded to myself.
"I never pretended to care about you! I just don't think that you're thinking clearly. I know what happened with your father must've really thrown you for a loop."
I laughed bitterly. "Only you would phrase getting kicked out as being thrown for a loop."
Harry winced, but wisely stayed silent. My mind was reeling from everything that had happened in the past few minutes and my head was pounding harder than ever. All I wanted to do was get away from this mess that I continued to bury myself. Or just take a very long, deep nap.
"Just...I don't need you to be my hero, Harry. Stop trying to be my hero. I can make my own choices, and what and who that involves stopped being your business the moment you decided to treat me and my feelings as expendable," I said.
Harry looked like he was going to protest, but thought better of it. "Fine. Go ahead and make shitty, dangerous choices. I guess I can't stop you."