WILD FLOWERS ✿ d.malfoy

40.

The anger rises up in tendrils; steam, burning me on its way out, and burning the fire in front of me. I feel the anger boil up and on the brink of spilling over and exploding. I seem to be on fire – I don't understand why the things I touch don't blow up immediately. Like explosives on board 24/7. I feel like a living dynamite.

The fire is burning, burning so bright, the whole common room is engulfed in the hue. I try breathing in and out, just like Dumbledore had told me so many times before. I try thinking of things to calm me down.

"We're done," I say shortly, afraid that if say much more, the room would blow up.

The three look up at me, scared. I try breathing in deep breaths, it's not working, not too effectively.

"I can't believe them," I laugh hoarsely, rubbing my face. "I can't fucking believe them."

"And they say that we are the worst house," Caelum sneers.

"What do their words say about them?" Carina spits.

"We're done here," I shout, throwing wood into the fire and watching it glow brighter. "We're not going to tolerate this."

"And you know when Caelum punched him," Tracy sniffles, "everyone got on his back saying that he had no reason to do that."

"Fuck that," I roar, "I'm going to curse him into oblivion."

"Don't," Carina says shortly.

"Yeah," Tracy says sourly, "ain't no one touching the Boy-Who-Lived."

"I need to take a shower," I say getting up, "I feel like I'm going to blow up."

"Why were you lot late today?" Carina says, marching with the rest of us to our dorm.

On reaching there, I tell them everything. It's their their turn to boil up with anger.

"I'm going to kill him," growls Caelum, his eyes red.

"Don't," I say slowly, "he's not worth it."

• • •

I walk on, briefly aware that I harshly bumped my shoulder into Hermione's. Do I care? Not really. I have places to be.

"Celestia, wait!" I hear her frantic footsteps, her voice anxious. My face twists sourly, I make no attempt to hint that I've heard her at all.

She grabs my hand, forcing me to turn around. I groan and yank my hand back, facing her with cold eyes. She tries to mimic me, but her eyes tell me otherwise: she's intimidated. Good.

"Yes, Granger?" I ask in a mock sweet voice, reminding me harshly of Umbridge's employment of that tone.

"I need you to – to listen," she says, uncertainly, playing with the hem of her skirt.

I look around the corridor. Stepping into an empty classroom, I slam the door shut.

"Talk," I say coldly, raising an eyebrow.

She lets out a deep breath, scratching her head. "I'm – I'm sorry." Her voice is sincere, but I don't buy it. She continues, "What happened, I know it shouldn't have happened. I have no explanation for his actions, I don't know what has gotten into him recently. But trust me, I am truly, deeply sorry."

She stops for a breath, but continues, "I will understand if you and the others don't want to turn up to the sessions again. I do not blame you for your decision if you choose to do so -"

"Damn right," I growl, looking out the window, my fists clenched. My voice echoes through the room, I see Hermione shudder. "We're not coming back, not to a place where people are going to hate on us and are going judge us for something, we cannot change without knowing who we actually are."