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Chapter 3 : Suppressed Emotions
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Thank you for all of your kind reviews, they make my day!
I know it isn't as long as the last, but I was rushed to try and get this out as soon as possible!
- Breanna xo.
“You don’t understand Ron! Just stop this nonsense would you?” Harry yelled, sighing loudly as he held Ginny close, placing his hand around her waist. Ron let out a groan, scrunching up his face in disgust with the shock of some news. “But she’s my sister… And that’s just gross. Why couldn’t you go after someone else, like Hermione or even that girl who tried to give you a love potion, what was her name? Oh right, Romilda Vane. Anyone but my sister would have been fine.” Ron said, placing his hand against his forehead, as if to suppress the oncoming headache he was about to receive. Ginny’s face burnt bright red, clashing with her hair. “I thought you were both having an argument with Hermione? You haven’t spoken to her since we got back here. What’s going on with that? And get over yourself, Ron. I like Harry and he likes me. There is nothing wrong with that! Stop being a git. It’s got nothing to do with you anyway!” Harry turned away from the siblings, trying to hide his laugh as Ron shuffled his feet on the spot, waiting for Ginny to finish her rant. “Never mind about Hermione, it’s none of your business Ginny. And he is my best friend! Mine! Not yours, just mine, and Hermione’s I guess. There is no room for you Ginny, his - his too old for you! Why can’t you have gotten with Dean Thomas, I would’ve preferred you with him rather than Harry…”
Ginny untangled herself from Harry, walking to Ron and slapping him over the head. “You idiot, he is only one year older! And for your information, not that it’s any of your business whatsoever, but Dean Thomas and I discontinued our relationship mutually, we thought it was better for us to just be friends. I’m sick of this crap Ronald Weasley. Don’t even bother to talk to me again until you come to your senses and just respect my decision to be with Harry!” The redhead roared before storming out of Gryffindor common room. Ron looked straight at Harry, who was fiddling with his hair. “You’re not going to stop talking to me too are you?” He asked the boy with the lightening scar. Harry smiled, “Of course not mate, but try and look at it from her perspective, it isn’t a big deal to her, and it shouldn’t be to you either it’s not like I’m going to blank you for Gin, you and Hermione have always come first in my life… But it’s up to you to decide whether you like it or not. Just don’t get cranky at Gin, she doesn’t mean any harm.” Ron smiled at his friend before leaving the room. I wish Hermione wasn’t fighting with us; I need help with my charms essay… Ron wondered, making his way to the Great Hall to get some lunch.
Blaise stood quietly, it’s none of her business, he thought to himself. “What about her Granger?” He said, quickly. Hermione studied him carefully; he was trying to avoid the question. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude or anything.” She replied, his face softened slightly, small smile appeared on his face, as if saying thank you. Hermione opened the book in his hands, flipping to the page of the Zabini’s.
This is going to be weird, what if I’m not even her? I’ll probably have traumatised Blaise by the end of this, I don’t know if I can do it… Hermione wondered to herself, looking down at the page before meeting Blaise’s eyes. “Well, you see here… Yes, just right here it says Hermione-Alaire.” Hermione stated clearly, Blaise’s eyes widening in shock. “I was just wondering, I mean, I’ve probably lost my mind, I was just thinking…” Hermione began, trying to find the right words, before Blaise found them for her. “You were wondering if you are this girl, aren’t you?” He said; his expression was hard to read, which made Hermione feel even worse. She merely nodded. “I’m sorry, I must have been mistaken, and I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I’m so stupid.” Hermione muttered to herself, freaking out whilst she walked in circles.
Blaise laughed aloud, causing Hermione to stop and stare at him. “What are you laughing at?” She asked, feeling as if she could cry. He motioned for her to follow him, and she did. He led her from the dungeons, and to the Room of Requirement. “I think it’s safer for us to talk here, I can’t have anyone else hearing any of this, so if it gets out, it’ll be your blood that is spilt, ok?” He said, he didn’t seem too serious, but Hermione nodded anyway. With that, he walked back and forth, until the door finally appeared, and they vanished inside.
Draco walked steadily, his heart racing. Shit, shit, shit. One day, she is going to find out what I said, I’m so stupid, what have I done? He wondered, before screaming aloud in pain as he dropped to the ground. His hand clutched his shoulder, his mind swimming with memories, and each one clouding his vision as he groaned in pain. His mind became darker and darker, whilst he stumbled around to support himself. This is what I get. Stupid curse, stupid Malfoy’s, stupid everything! I hate this, screw you Brutus Malfoy! You old git…
When Draco awoke he was in a dark coloured room, the walls a pale brown colour, the bed made with sheets from silk, coloured in green. He stood, walking around quietly. What was he doing in his bedroom? He went to the door, turning the knob slowly, only to open it and fall to the ground again, the last breath of air escaping his lips with a single word, “Hermione.”
He finally awoke, properly this time, to find himself in the Slytherin common room, on one of the comfortable green couches near the fireplace, the chess pieces from his game with Blaise still sitting on the table beside him. He looked around, and clearly enough, sitting just across from him with a Witch Weekly magazine in her hand, her legs crossed over the side of the one seater, sat Pansy Parkinson. “Draco? Oh good, you’re awake. How’re you feeling? Are you alright? I’ll get some water, just stay here.” She said, rushing off to find a glass. “Don’t rush Pansy; I’m fine, thank you.” He said, hoping she heard him because he wouldn’t be saying thank you twice.
When she returned, glass of water in hand, she placed it on the corner of the chess board, before sitting back in her seat. Draco was already sitting up, leaning into the chair with his eyes closed, a frown appearing on his forehead, deep in thought. “So Draco, I think it’s about time you tell me why I found you in a heap in the corridors, the truth this time.” She said, tossing the magazine on the floor before crossing her legs again, waiting for Draco to speak.
He sighed, and smiled. “Alright, but you can’t tell anyone, especially not Granger, Blaise knows, I told him a few weeks ago.” He started, giving her a glare to warn her. She smiled and nodded waiting for him to continue. “Ok, so as you know, the Malfoy’s has a curse, well, I’ve found out I’ve inherited that curse, which means I’m a veela. I have a mate, somewhere out there, someone who will be my soul mate and whatever. I’m normal, just the same, but I’ve figured out the when my mate feels sad or in pain, so do I. I think that’s why you found me on the ground; I think my mate had a very emotional moment, which caused me to go unconscious.” Pansy gasped in delight. This is so great! I’m so happy for him! She thought. “That sounds like a handful Draco, but I know you can do this. It’ll be so great, no matter whom your mate is.” She said in reply, smiling at him before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.
Now that Draco had finally told Pansy, he felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders; the only problem now would be trying to figure out who his mate is…
Ron filled his plate with the various foods before beginning to fill his mouth. He was angry and grateful at the same time. His angry directed towards Hermione and his sister, his gratefulness towards Harry, for always being there for him, and never letting him fall. He smiled to himself; he wouldn’t have survived without Harry being there for him. Hell, he wouldn’t have survived if Hermione wasn’t there either. They went on so many adventures together, each time the friendship between the three grew. Until it finally cracked…
Ginny sat on her broomstick, high in the air. She zoomed around with the Quaffle, taking her mind of her worries as she created herself a simulated game using her wand. She stopped suddenly when Harry zoomed straight in front of her, smiling before giving her a small kiss on the cheek. “Are you alright? Don’t worry about Ron, he’ll come around, he just needs some time to adjust.” He said, smiling at Ginny, holding her right hand in his. She nodded, “I’m okay. I just needed some air; this just seemed like the best place to go, y’know?” She said, smiling back. He nodded, “Okay then, so let’s play some Quidditch.”
Blaise sat quietly on a black leather seat near the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, not knowing how to react as Hermione cried beside him. This is her mourning time, I think. Her way of understanding, of knowing, and cherishing, her way of getting to know her new life, her new story, and her new adventures. Blaise thought, hoping it was enough to convince his mind that she was ok, even though she was crying… He patted her shoulder supportively, going through the events that just occurred.
“I remember her, we were so little, and she had the most amazing colour of brown in her hair, just like yours. She had freckles across her nose and her eyes were the same colour as her hair. She was the greatest sister I ever had. We would sit at home, in the lounge room on Christmas, throwing things into the fireplace across us. We had our own mats to sit on, mine was blue, hers was purple, our names in cursive writing on the top. Mother and father would sit on the four-seater, red leather couch behind us, debating on what school we should go to, what there next project was, anything normal parents worried about. We would cast spells with our wands, create magical things around the room, and decorate our rooms every so often. We would always talk, at the dinner table, each one of us four would say something nice about the others, and then say something we enjoyed that day. It was mother’s way of sharing with us. I still remember the day father died, just after she was taken. He never gave up; he searched for so long, went for months at a time. I remember mother, she practically turned to stone. I was all alone after that. And then the birthday came, I hated it. It was just me trying to celebrate for the both of us. Me wishing with each candle, that I would get my sister back someday, that everything would be okay, that father would be happy in heaven, mother would finally talk and eat again, and she would come back. But my wish never came, and I never forgave myself for not going after her when she was taken, it stills haunts my memories to this very day.” He said, a few tears streaming down his cheeks, as he hurried to wipe them away. Hermione burst out in tears; she couldn’t keep it together anymore. She cried for Blaise and his family, she cried for Harry and Ron, she cried for stupid Malfoy and worst of all, she cried for herself, all of her sadness that was kept inside finally reached the surface.
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