Ultraviolence

Chapter 35: Feeling Brave

Song: Blondie - Current Joys 

Be nice.

I didn't know how, but I knew today wasn't the first time he had warned her. I was left to guess at the why's too. Lately, he had been acting so differently, he didn't leave me much room for interpretation, for insecurities or excuses.

I thought about that shy kiss we shared in the moonlit infirmary, how light it felt, how heavy it felt too. I thought about crying into his arms, how he held me when he told me to shut up. And I thought about a second ago, about those two simple words.

"Oi!" Pansy exclaimed. I turned towards her, her call had brought me back into the oak room. "Did you even listen to a word I said?" I could already tell she was going to be irritating.

I noticed the end of twilight outside the windows, the sky was filled with a picturesque orange and purple hue. It made things easier.

"Sorry, long day."

"I have long days too, you know," she snarled before heading towards her bed. With a long dramatic sigh, she laid down and stared at the wooden dark ceiling. This was the longest conversation we've had since we stopped talking. On good days, we would just ignore each other and pretend nothing was wrong. On bad days, she would whisper sly remarks, I would cuss under my breath, but eventually, always go back to pretending the other didn't exist.

"Want to talk about it?" I already regretted posing the question. She looked completely taken aback by it, my guess was that she expected me not to care. She had a point, I didn't care about whatever she had going on that made her think she had the right to talk to me like that, but I did care about her.

"It's Blaise." She stood up, desperate for the chance to speak about it. "He thinks you're both up to something. We fought because of it."

"We're not up to anything." I must have sounded mean because she frowned slightly. "And he should know better than to meddle in things that don't concern him, don't you agree?" I made an effort not to sound as bitchy. It was difficult.

"I told him that!" She exclaimed, assuming that I had thought otherwise.

"Why is he so worked up about it anyway? I thought he hated us." I groaned. She sighed once morosely, and then once again violently, and finally laid down.

"It's complicated. He doesn't hate you, he doesn't even think about you." She looked offended that she had to clarify this. I used to sympathize with her for being this insecure, but now it was just infuriating. Maybe I saw myself in her, saw how pathetic it was to be so insecure, and resented her for it. Maybe it was just mommy issues.

"He just doesn't want to lose any more house points, alright? Something about it not making him look good now he's a Prefect, I don't even know." It seemed that this was the end of the conversation, she turned sideways and observed the night slowly rising outside with me.

I laid down in my bed. It smelled like lemons and slightly of leather and sweat, it smelled like him. I basked peacefully in the scent.

I laid there, thinking about Draco, wishing I wasn't, wondering if he was thinking of me, too. I dwelled on the thought of losing him. The possibility crossed my mind whenever it would run off, whenever it would force me to think about what I'd see if we ever found that Pensieve.

What if I hurt him in some distant past I now forgot about? What if he agreed to stay away? His mother would've liked that. What if I lost him forever?

In the darkness of the cold bedroom, I felt a crushing wave of sadness and longing, and anxiety. I could feel it in my throat, in my chest, in my guts, everywhere, like a disease. Maybe I liked him more than I thought. Maybe I really truly cared for him. I thought I was smarter than that.