Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Fifty-One

The next few weeks flew by, and before I knew it, it was almost Christmas.

I had already packed and was looking forward to waking up early the next day to leave for the Hollands', where I would be staying over Christmas — obviously, because where else could I go?

I would've gone to Malfoy Manor, but Draco insisted against it — it wasn't safe for me there.

"If it's not safe for me, how is it any safer for you?" I demanded, worried about his well-being; he was still looking rather ill despite my attempts to help him feel better.

"It's not," he answered honestly, the light in his eyes dimming as he imagined going home for Christmas, "but my parents are loyal to You-Know-Who, which gives me the slightest margin of protection. Your parents, however, deserted him, making you a target for anyone willing to get on his good side." And me being a target meant there was still a large chance that people might still come after me, which would be a good reason to stay at Hogwarts, where it was safe.

However, we agreed that coming after me wasn't one of their top priorities, with everything else going on, so it would be highly unlikely that I would be attacked over Christmas.

So it was decided; I was going to spend Christmas at the Hollands'.

The night before break started, I was sitting in the common room, previously reading as much as I could about Potions but now gazing into the fire distractedly, when someone entered through the portrait hole.

I looked up to see Draco striding into the common room, looking furious. He spotted me in his usual spot on the couch and headed over, so I scooted out of his spot to let him sit.

He flung himself onto the couch, positively seething. I didn't pry — since he couldn't explain most things to me, it was easier if I didn't ask. Instead, I would acknowledge his emotions and try to help without understanding why he felt that way, and if it was something I was allowed to know, he would tell me.

"Snape is really starting to get on my nerves," Draco muttered, glaring into the fire.

I closed my book, shifting on the couch to face him, showing him that I was listening. We'd started to have this sort of unspoken understanding; I wouldn't ask about what he was doing, but if he wanted to talk about it, I would always listen. That way, I would never know anything that would put me in danger, and he wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

"He keeps calling me into his office, as if he expects me to confide in him. As if I need to confide in anyone! I don't need his help! It would be nice if he would just leave me alone! 'Unbreakable Vow', yeah right... he's just trying to steal my glory."

"He certainly does seem the type to want to taint someone's victory. And he doesn't exactly come off as the helpful type...." I mumbled in agreement, ignoring my immense confusion toward his rant. "But maybe — and hear me out on this — maybe he really is trying to help."

Draco sulked in silence, seeming to consider my words. "Well, he did say he'd promised Mother... and he did offer his assistance.... But still, he's acting as though I can't do this on my own! He doesn't respect my privacy — he even tried to use Legilimency on me! I don't need him butting in! You-Know-Who gave me this job for a reason, he chose me for a reason —"

"But Draco, think about it!" I cut in with an air of reasoning, bothered by his stubborn defiance. "Why would You-Know-Who appoint a sixteen-year-old when he has Snape at his disposal? Why would he put his faith in a teenager he hardly knows to do something so important?"

"I don't know, okay? It's not like I can just ask him, can I?" Draco shot back, glaring at me. I ignored the pang of hurt that came with him glaring at me, but he seemed to notice it anyway since his glare suddenly lessened noticeably.