Chapter 1 – Delusional and Yours
Draco
oOoOo
“Gryffindor!” yelled the tattered Sorting Hat, sending the last first-year off to her house. The Gryffindor table has erupted with cheers and I can see my best friend clapping along with the rest of her house. You’d think they won the lottery or something. I don’t mind, though. If I get to see her smile like that because of the Sorting, then by Merlin give all the first-years to Gryffindor.
I smirk.
A hush falls in the room and Dumbledore stands up, holding his goblet up and tapping it with a golden spoon.
“Good evening students!” Dumbledore begins. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As is customary, I will now list the following rules and regulations needed for your complete safety.” He smiles as the older students snicker. He then proceeds to tell us the litany of rules that we seventh-years have heard and probably memorized but disregarded in the whole of our stay in Hogwarts. “Now, I would like to personally introduce to you this year’s Head Girl and Head Boy,” he announces after his yearly speech.
Blaise elbows me and snickers. “Hey, congratulations, Head Boy!”
“Oh stuff it Blaise,” I roll my eyes at him.
“Miss Hermione Granger,” Hermione stands up, blushing furiously as her housemates clap. I hear my best friend catcalling and yelling “Yay Hermione!” from their raucous table. Very lady-like. “And, Mister Draco Malfoy,” Dumbledore proceeds, directing his blue-eyed stare at me. I stand up and nod in recognition towards the Headmaster and the other teachers.
Blaise claps and soon the others follow. My other friends from the other tables join in. I hear my best friend yell “I’m so proud of you, White!” and my heart swells. To be honest I could have skinned her alive because she dared to call me that horrible nickname in front of the whole student body of Hogwarts but I don’t, because for one, I could never skin her alive without me being skinned alive first. And even if I could, I would never do that to her. Especially since her voice sounded so proud of me and it made me proud of myself too.
Besides, right now, I don’t care if she called me White several times. I’m Head Boy and my best friend’s proud of me.
I won’t lie to you. I’m in love with my best friend Ginny. Yes, Ginny Weasley, the first ever female to grace the Weasley line for several generations. And I tell you this because you’re not her. If you were her, well…
It’s not like I can’t. I mean I could always blurt it out whenever we have our usual walks around the lake, or whenever she sits at Slytherin’s table, swiping my meal right from under my nose just because she likes it. Or when I decide to be man enough and get on with my plan to corner her on some dark hallway and push her up against the wall, tell her I’ve loved her since the beginning of time and kiss the daylights out of her. Then from there, we can walk out, hand in hand and promise to marry each other after she graduates and have lots and lots of kids with silver-blonde hair and brown eyes…
Yeah right.
I’m delusional.
I’m Draco Malfoy and delusional.
Who am I kidding? I can’t tell her. I won’t and I can’t. Because if I did…I don’t even want to think of the consequences, let alone think about how I should tell her. That would be painfully embarrassing, not to mention it might finish off our friendship.
I’m scared. I’m Draco Malfoy, delusional and scared.
I sit down and the noise dies down. I hear several of my new housemates whisper and point at me but I don’t care. I hear sighs from girls near me and I ignore them. And again I realize that this is going to be another tiring year. Come Valentine’s I’ll be pretty much busy dodging flying cards and singing house elves.
Call me arrogant all you want but it’s really the truth. Girls chase after me and that’s a known fact. They even dare to ambush me in class and give me some disgusting love letter. Of course I just smile and say thank you even though I want to crumple them and stomp on them as soon as I receive them. Ginny wouldn’t hear of that. Last time I tried to throw a letter in the garbage, she lambasted me for it. My fault for letting her see it, though. So I usually wait ‘til I’m in my room to dispose of them. They all have the same message inside anyway. The girls like me, period.
I would never admit it to anybody--well probably to Blaise I would--but I kind of feel envious that these girls have more backbone than I have. I mean, they have enough nerve to tell me how they feel and I can’t even do that to Ginny. Believe me when I say I’ve tried. However, there is always some trivial thing or another that ruins my plans and I never get around even to hinting at her, much less telling her outright.
“So, how does it feel?” Blaise asks me. I look at him. “Head Boy, Hogwarts Heartthrob, Captain of the Quidditch Team, you sure have lots of titles under your hefty belt.”
“I don’t have hefty belts, Blaise,” I reply and took a drink from my goblet. “And I don’t really care much about those things. Do they really have to keep with that silly poll of theirs?”
The teachers might not know it, although I’m pretty sure Dumbledore does, but aside from the four hourglasses that calculate the house points, there’s also another set of hourglasses hidden within Hogwarts. These hourglasses keep track of who the hottest guys and girls in campus are and yes, no arrogance, I am at the top of that countdown since I started school.
I don’t really care about it. I mean, so what? Do I get additional house points for it? No, of course not. As I said earlier the teachers don’t even know about it. The only thing I get out of it is a flock of girls behind me, giving themselves up like some kind of offering. What do they all think I am anyway? A Greek god who needs virgins for sacrifice? Come on, people.
And besides, that tally doesn’t even make Ginny notice me like a true young man, you know, as boyfriend material. So I don’t need that stupid title of Hogwarts Heartthrob. Even the name sucks.
“Aww,” Blaise shakes his head. “You know others would kill to have even just a place in that poll,” he says.
“Do I look like I care?”
“No,” he answers.
“And you? Since when do you care about those kind of stupidities?” I ask with a smirk.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Blaise shrugs. Like me, he’s on the list. Third actually, next to Harry Potter. And if interests you, Ron Weasley is fifth, Theodore Nott is sixth and Terry Boot is seventh. Why do I know? Through the girls of Hogwarts of course. They think praising me by saying exactly how far ahead I am with the others will impress me. Well, it won’t actually. If anything, the poll just irritates me and I hate it, especially when Ginny’s at the top of the girls’ list. That means more people notice her. And I despise that. She’s mine, even though she still doesn’t know it.
I look up in search of my pretty redhead who is, as usual, seated in between Hermione and Harry at their dining table. She’s laughing at something Harry is saying, looking all fresh and edible with her hair tied like that and her face free of make-up. I almost groan when she bites her lip to stop from giggling. Oh please, kill me now.
Beside me, someone snorts. I turn to look at Blaise and see him smirking at me. I roll my eyes, anticipating the snark that usually comes after it.
“Gee, Drake. I can’t believe you still haven’t said anything to her,” Blaise starts. “I’m almost ashamed to be your friend.”
I ignore him. He usually tells me the same things whenever he sees me cast what he calls my ‘Pathetic Looks’ towards Ginny. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hex him for it, just because.
“At the rate you’re moving right now, she’ll be married off before you decide to tell her,” Blaise says while he twirls his spaghetti noodles with his fork. “I mean, how hard could it be to tell her? You know Ginny, she’ll listen to your every problem.”
“Not when my problem is her,” I grumble. I stab my steak and gave up trying to eat. Blaise has an amazing way of ruining someone’s appetite, he should teach about it.
“Oh come on!” Blaise rolls his dark eyes at me. “Look, you’ve been crushing on her since…forever! And I know you’re really afraid that your relationship with her right now might end if you tell her, but you know you cannot get anything if you don’t take risks. You’re a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake!”
“What’s my being Slytherin have to do with anything?” Blaise gives me this unbelieving stare, probably daring me to answer my own question. I let it slide. “I don’t know, Blaise,” I shake my head. “I don’t know if this feeling is worth the risk. I mean, what if she doesn’t want me to be around just because I make her uncomfortable with my intentions? What if she doesn’t want me that way?”
“You’re not even sure what she really feels for you, mate,” Blaise points out. “I know it’s not easy, believe me, I’ve been there. But I learned that there’s no harm in telling the truth. It sounds like a cliché, but you know how they say about how the truth sets you free?” I groan at the overused words. “It’s true mate. Believe me,” he looks in my eyes then.
I believe him, really. Blaise is a git, but he’s a reliable one.
We fall silent for a while. I stare down at my goblet, seeing the reflection of my face staring right back at me.
“Was it really liberating? Telling Pansy how you felt?” I ask him after a while. I look at him and see him shake his head.
“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ve been childhood friends and all. I hated keeping something that important from her all these years, so when I finally told her, I just felt…free,” he answers.
“But you’re not together right now,” I point out, looking back again at my reflection in the goblet.
“Oh, she’ll come around soon,” Blaise says confidently. “I know it’s been quite a shock for her.”
“A shock? It’s been a year already Blaise,” I answer. “Maybe she just doesn’t feel that way for you.”
“How will you even know if you don’t tell Ginny?” he says, changing the topic.
“Tell me what?”
I jump a mile up from my seat as Ginny plops down beside me, looking curious. I get goosebumps because of her stare.
“I, uh…” I glare at Blaise.
Blaise smirks back and turns to Ginny. “That Draco is…”
“Is!” I intercept Blaise. “Is going to walk you to your tower right now!” I grin at her, wider than necessary, so I tone it down a bit and straighten up. “Well,” I gather my wits and stand up, giving Blaise a look before smiling again at Ginny. “Let’s go.” I drag her by the arm and she says goodbye to Blaise, who grins and gives her a two-fingered salute.
“But aren’t you supposed to be walking me to the Prefects’ Meeting tonight?” Ginny slants a look at me, her eyes suspicious and alert as they search my face. We’re on our way to the doors of the Great Hall.
You know, it’s a big irony for me that my best friend can read me perfectly, as if I were a newspaper. She knows when I’m not feeling well, when I don’t like someone or something. I don’t get why she can’t tell that I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her. It doesn’t make sense, right? So that makes me think that she really knows and that she just chooses to ignore it. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or not. I mean, if she knows, why doesn’t she just spare me the pain and tell me how she feels about it?
Bill tells me that perhaps it’s because she’s known me for so long that she just doesn’t see me as a possible love interest. Does that even make sense to you? Well it did to me, actually. But that doesn’t mean that it made me feel better. How can the thought that my first (and probably last) love just views me as her forever best friend make me feel better?
“Oh yeah,” I nod. “Well, let’s go then,” I tell her and I hold my arm out, waiting for her to hook hers with mine.
But she doesn’t. She stands still and looks at me with her chocolate brown eyes that always draw me in, you know…like I just lose track of time and just stare at them, twinkling like that…oh hey, I’m doing it again. Focus, Malfoy.
“What?” I ask her.
“Something’s not right with you,” Ginny simply says. “You’re acting all weird and funny.”
“Me?” I give her a questioning look, praying for her to just drop the subject.
“I think I know,” she says, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“You do?” I squeak out. “I mean, you do?” I say again in a more controlled tone. Damn it.
She nods. My heart races.
“You’re—,”
“Yes!” I quickly answer not even waiting to finish what she was going to say.
“Huh?” she states while she stares at me. “Drake, are you sick?”
“Wha-what?” I ask. “I…no, no…” I answer turning around and walking faster. “Let’s go. You’re going to be late.”
I hear her sigh and walk faster to catch up with me. When she’s beside me she says, “You’re nervous about this, aren’t you?”
What?
I stop walking and turn to face her. “What?”
“Why you’re acting weird. You’re nervous about being Head Boy,” she says. Then she takes my hand and squeezes it. “It’s going to be all right, Drake,” she tells me. “I’m a Prefect, remember? I’ll help you with your duties.”
Then she proceeds to drag me by the hand.
I secretly let out a sigh of relief. For a while I thought she had figured everything out. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that she got it all wrong this time. Nonetheless, I know this isn’t the time to tell her anything.
This year, I vow to myself. This year, I will tell her.
A/N: This now has a beta! Thanks Hechicera for being one of the nicest betas ever!
Draco
oOoOo
“Gryffindor!” yelled the tattered Sorting Hat, sending the last first-year off to her house. The Gryffindor table has erupted with cheers and I can see my best friend clapping along with the rest of her house. You’d think they won the lottery or something. I don’t mind, though. If I get to see her smile like that because of the Sorting, then by Merlin give all the first-years to Gryffindor.
I smirk.
A hush falls in the room and Dumbledore stands up, holding his goblet up and tapping it with a golden spoon.
“Good evening students!” Dumbledore begins. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As is customary, I will now list the following rules and regulations needed for your complete safety.” He smiles as the older students snicker. He then proceeds to tell us the litany of rules that we seventh-years have heard and probably memorized but disregarded in the whole of our stay in Hogwarts. “Now, I would like to personally introduce to you this year’s Head Girl and Head Boy,” he announces after his yearly speech.
Blaise elbows me and snickers. “Hey, congratulations, Head Boy!”
“Oh stuff it Blaise,” I roll my eyes at him.
“Miss Hermione Granger,” Hermione stands up, blushing furiously as her housemates clap. I hear my best friend catcalling and yelling “Yay Hermione!” from their raucous table. Very lady-like. “And, Mister Draco Malfoy,” Dumbledore proceeds, directing his blue-eyed stare at me. I stand up and nod in recognition towards the Headmaster and the other teachers.
Blaise claps and soon the others follow. My other friends from the other tables join in. I hear my best friend yell “I’m so proud of you, White!” and my heart swells. To be honest I could have skinned her alive because she dared to call me that horrible nickname in front of the whole student body of Hogwarts but I don’t, because for one, I could never skin her alive without me being skinned alive first. And even if I could, I would never do that to her. Especially since her voice sounded so proud of me and it made me proud of myself too.
Besides, right now, I don’t care if she called me White several times. I’m Head Boy and my best friend’s proud of me.
I won’t lie to you. I’m in love with my best friend Ginny. Yes, Ginny Weasley, the first ever female to grace the Weasley line for several generations. And I tell you this because you’re not her. If you were her, well…
It’s not like I can’t. I mean I could always blurt it out whenever we have our usual walks around the lake, or whenever she sits at Slytherin’s table, swiping my meal right from under my nose just because she likes it. Or when I decide to be man enough and get on with my plan to corner her on some dark hallway and push her up against the wall, tell her I’ve loved her since the beginning of time and kiss the daylights out of her. Then from there, we can walk out, hand in hand and promise to marry each other after she graduates and have lots and lots of kids with silver-blonde hair and brown eyes…
Yeah right.
I’m delusional.
I’m Draco Malfoy and delusional.
Who am I kidding? I can’t tell her. I won’t and I can’t. Because if I did…I don’t even want to think of the consequences, let alone think about how I should tell her. That would be painfully embarrassing, not to mention it might finish off our friendship.
I’m scared. I’m Draco Malfoy, delusional and scared.
I sit down and the noise dies down. I hear several of my new housemates whisper and point at me but I don’t care. I hear sighs from girls near me and I ignore them. And again I realize that this is going to be another tiring year. Come Valentine’s I’ll be pretty much busy dodging flying cards and singing house elves.
Call me arrogant all you want but it’s really the truth. Girls chase after me and that’s a known fact. They even dare to ambush me in class and give me some disgusting love letter. Of course I just smile and say thank you even though I want to crumple them and stomp on them as soon as I receive them. Ginny wouldn’t hear of that. Last time I tried to throw a letter in the garbage, she lambasted me for it. My fault for letting her see it, though. So I usually wait ‘til I’m in my room to dispose of them. They all have the same message inside anyway. The girls like me, period.
I would never admit it to anybody--well probably to Blaise I would--but I kind of feel envious that these girls have more backbone than I have. I mean, they have enough nerve to tell me how they feel and I can’t even do that to Ginny. Believe me when I say I’ve tried. However, there is always some trivial thing or another that ruins my plans and I never get around even to hinting at her, much less telling her outright.
“So, how does it feel?” Blaise asks me. I look at him. “Head Boy, Hogwarts Heartthrob, Captain of the Quidditch Team, you sure have lots of titles under your hefty belt.”
“I don’t have hefty belts, Blaise,” I reply and took a drink from my goblet. “And I don’t really care much about those things. Do they really have to keep with that silly poll of theirs?”
The teachers might not know it, although I’m pretty sure Dumbledore does, but aside from the four hourglasses that calculate the house points, there’s also another set of hourglasses hidden within Hogwarts. These hourglasses keep track of who the hottest guys and girls in campus are and yes, no arrogance, I am at the top of that countdown since I started school.
I don’t really care about it. I mean, so what? Do I get additional house points for it? No, of course not. As I said earlier the teachers don’t even know about it. The only thing I get out of it is a flock of girls behind me, giving themselves up like some kind of offering. What do they all think I am anyway? A Greek god who needs virgins for sacrifice? Come on, people.
And besides, that tally doesn’t even make Ginny notice me like a true young man, you know, as boyfriend material. So I don’t need that stupid title of Hogwarts Heartthrob. Even the name sucks.
“Aww,” Blaise shakes his head. “You know others would kill to have even just a place in that poll,” he says.
“Do I look like I care?”
“No,” he answers.
“And you? Since when do you care about those kind of stupidities?” I ask with a smirk.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Blaise shrugs. Like me, he’s on the list. Third actually, next to Harry Potter. And if interests you, Ron Weasley is fifth, Theodore Nott is sixth and Terry Boot is seventh. Why do I know? Through the girls of Hogwarts of course. They think praising me by saying exactly how far ahead I am with the others will impress me. Well, it won’t actually. If anything, the poll just irritates me and I hate it, especially when Ginny’s at the top of the girls’ list. That means more people notice her. And I despise that. She’s mine, even though she still doesn’t know it.
I look up in search of my pretty redhead who is, as usual, seated in between Hermione and Harry at their dining table. She’s laughing at something Harry is saying, looking all fresh and edible with her hair tied like that and her face free of make-up. I almost groan when she bites her lip to stop from giggling. Oh please, kill me now.
Beside me, someone snorts. I turn to look at Blaise and see him smirking at me. I roll my eyes, anticipating the snark that usually comes after it.
“Gee, Drake. I can’t believe you still haven’t said anything to her,” Blaise starts. “I’m almost ashamed to be your friend.”
I ignore him. He usually tells me the same things whenever he sees me cast what he calls my ‘Pathetic Looks’ towards Ginny. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hex him for it, just because.
“At the rate you’re moving right now, she’ll be married off before you decide to tell her,” Blaise says while he twirls his spaghetti noodles with his fork. “I mean, how hard could it be to tell her? You know Ginny, she’ll listen to your every problem.”
“Not when my problem is her,” I grumble. I stab my steak and gave up trying to eat. Blaise has an amazing way of ruining someone’s appetite, he should teach about it.
“Oh come on!” Blaise rolls his dark eyes at me. “Look, you’ve been crushing on her since…forever! And I know you’re really afraid that your relationship with her right now might end if you tell her, but you know you cannot get anything if you don’t take risks. You’re a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake!”
“What’s my being Slytherin have to do with anything?” Blaise gives me this unbelieving stare, probably daring me to answer my own question. I let it slide. “I don’t know, Blaise,” I shake my head. “I don’t know if this feeling is worth the risk. I mean, what if she doesn’t want me to be around just because I make her uncomfortable with my intentions? What if she doesn’t want me that way?”
“You’re not even sure what she really feels for you, mate,” Blaise points out. “I know it’s not easy, believe me, I’ve been there. But I learned that there’s no harm in telling the truth. It sounds like a cliché, but you know how they say about how the truth sets you free?” I groan at the overused words. “It’s true mate. Believe me,” he looks in my eyes then.
I believe him, really. Blaise is a git, but he’s a reliable one.
We fall silent for a while. I stare down at my goblet, seeing the reflection of my face staring right back at me.
“Was it really liberating? Telling Pansy how you felt?” I ask him after a while. I look at him and see him shake his head.
“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ve been childhood friends and all. I hated keeping something that important from her all these years, so when I finally told her, I just felt…free,” he answers.
“But you’re not together right now,” I point out, looking back again at my reflection in the goblet.
“Oh, she’ll come around soon,” Blaise says confidently. “I know it’s been quite a shock for her.”
“A shock? It’s been a year already Blaise,” I answer. “Maybe she just doesn’t feel that way for you.”
“How will you even know if you don’t tell Ginny?” he says, changing the topic.
“Tell me what?”
I jump a mile up from my seat as Ginny plops down beside me, looking curious. I get goosebumps because of her stare.
“I, uh…” I glare at Blaise.
Blaise smirks back and turns to Ginny. “That Draco is…”
“Is!” I intercept Blaise. “Is going to walk you to your tower right now!” I grin at her, wider than necessary, so I tone it down a bit and straighten up. “Well,” I gather my wits and stand up, giving Blaise a look before smiling again at Ginny. “Let’s go.” I drag her by the arm and she says goodbye to Blaise, who grins and gives her a two-fingered salute.
“But aren’t you supposed to be walking me to the Prefects’ Meeting tonight?” Ginny slants a look at me, her eyes suspicious and alert as they search my face. We’re on our way to the doors of the Great Hall.
You know, it’s a big irony for me that my best friend can read me perfectly, as if I were a newspaper. She knows when I’m not feeling well, when I don’t like someone or something. I don’t get why she can’t tell that I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her. It doesn’t make sense, right? So that makes me think that she really knows and that she just chooses to ignore it. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or not. I mean, if she knows, why doesn’t she just spare me the pain and tell me how she feels about it?
Bill tells me that perhaps it’s because she’s known me for so long that she just doesn’t see me as a possible love interest. Does that even make sense to you? Well it did to me, actually. But that doesn’t mean that it made me feel better. How can the thought that my first (and probably last) love just views me as her forever best friend make me feel better?
“Oh yeah,” I nod. “Well, let’s go then,” I tell her and I hold my arm out, waiting for her to hook hers with mine.
But she doesn’t. She stands still and looks at me with her chocolate brown eyes that always draw me in, you know…like I just lose track of time and just stare at them, twinkling like that…oh hey, I’m doing it again. Focus, Malfoy.
“What?” I ask her.
“Something’s not right with you,” Ginny simply says. “You’re acting all weird and funny.”
“Me?” I give her a questioning look, praying for her to just drop the subject.
“I think I know,” she says, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“You do?” I squeak out. “I mean, you do?” I say again in a more controlled tone. Damn it.
She nods. My heart races.
“You’re—,”
“Yes!” I quickly answer not even waiting to finish what she was going to say.
“Huh?” she states while she stares at me. “Drake, are you sick?”
“Wha-what?” I ask. “I…no, no…” I answer turning around and walking faster. “Let’s go. You’re going to be late.”
I hear her sigh and walk faster to catch up with me. When she’s beside me she says, “You’re nervous about this, aren’t you?”
What?
I stop walking and turn to face her. “What?”
“Why you’re acting weird. You’re nervous about being Head Boy,” she says. Then she takes my hand and squeezes it. “It’s going to be all right, Drake,” she tells me. “I’m a Prefect, remember? I’ll help you with your duties.”
Then she proceeds to drag me by the hand.
I secretly let out a sigh of relief. For a while I thought she had figured everything out. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that she got it all wrong this time. Nonetheless, I know this isn’t the time to tell her anything.
This year, I vow to myself. This year, I will tell her.
A/N: This now has a beta! Thanks Hechicera for being one of the nicest betas ever!
Author notes: Thanks to Anise from the Cabal for pointing out some of my errors.
Leave a Review