Choice's Curse {d.m.}

Broken Noses

"Draco, are you okay?" Pansy questioned from behind me, her voice full of despair. He and I were both watching Harry retreat, the blond boy's body still strung tight with white-hot anger. My hands shook with the remnants of adrenaline that was still working its way out of my system and it was all I could do to keep my eyes averted from Draco's bruising skin.

"Fuck off, Pansy." His voice was hard, earning a small sound of indignation from the girl. She still tried to clasp onto his arm, but he roughly tore it from her grip, not even sparing her a moment's glance.

"Fine. You're a fucking bore anyways. All you ever do is brood and whine," Pansy stated, her steps clicking loudly against the stone as she finally made her exit. Her sickly sweet perfume met my nose as she left, making my headache instantly worse with the overwhelming scent.

That left only Draco and I. The castle was still rather empty, surrounding us with a crushing silence as each second ticked by, almost like someone had altered the state of time. Though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his presence, as if I had developed some odd sixth sense only for him. I didn't know what to say. If there was anything to say at all.

I was angry; that much I did know. I was angry at the way he had talked about me to Pansy. To Harry. I was angry that he could dismiss me so harshly, yet still attack Harry seemingly in--

Well, not in defense of me. But that was how it had looked. It was surely how Harry had taken it, even if he had been the one to antagonize Draco in the first place.

Lately it felt like I was always angry at someone. It was exhausting.

My forearm where Harry had struck still stung. I was tempted to check for bruises, but it felt almost childish to do so when Draco was standing so near, surely still bleeding from a few of Harry's many hits. It crossed my mind that I had seen Draco bruised and bloodied more times this year alone than I had seen him in the previous years combined.

That had to be a very, very bad omen.

Deafening silence still persisted, and I figured I might as well just leave. I had nothing to say to Draco after what had happened, so I turned to follow Harry's earlier path down the stairs only to feel an icy hand grip my wrist. I suppressed a groan even as my heart leaped at the contact.

"Don't tell anyone what happened," Draco commanded as I was still turned away, his nails pressing into the tender flesh of my wrist.

His words sent a wave of irritation through me and I spun to face him. Thankfully I didn't freeze at the sight of his face, stained as it was with fresh and drying blood, matched by the violently red and purple marks. "Really? You really think you have to tell me that after everything that's happened this year? Jesus, how stupid do you think I am?" I replied angrily.

Draco's face was calm, contrasting strangely with the gore painting his face. "I don't think you want the answer to that question."

I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his grip was so tight around my frail wrist that I only succeeded in making it pop sickeningly. "You're right, I don't, because you'd take any chance you got to insult me. Let me go. I'm sick of being around you."

"Not a very courteous thing to say to someone who just got in a fight because of you," Draco growled, jerking me closer to him, my feet dragging against the stone floor. "I shouldn't expect manners from a Muggle, though."

I felt my face twist as confusion and bitterness hit me. "Excuse me? I didn't make you fight Harry like the immature child you are. You both think you have ownership over me, or a say on how I spend my time, but you don't ."