Running down the spiral stairs, I wanted to get to the Slytherin dorm as fast as I could. I wasn't looking at the steps, I didn't care if I were to trip over or if the staircases would move and take me to some unknown location. Chaos filled my mind, and there were voices ringing, all shouting different things at me.
I felt like a marionette with strings attached all over me, pulling me to every possible direction.
Then I heard that one quiet voice whispering to me, begging me to slow down, to think thoroughly and rationally before taking any actions.
I made a sudden stop right before heading down the last set of stone stairs to the basement. If I were to confront Malfoy now, and accuse him of potential infidelity, it would not end well no matter what he said.
At that very second, I was so determined to believe in the worst that even if he did nothing out of the line, I'd still think he was lying.
We tend to only believe what we want to believe, and that's nothing but unfortunate.
There were many things I was uncertain of, but one thing I knew for sure was the love I had for Malfoy, and I didn't want to lose him. Never did and never will.
After taking a deep breath, I told myself the best course of action was to try to cool my head off.
Almost instinctively, I found myself wandering toward the observatory.
Sitting against the stone wall in the thin, chilly January air, I was shivering. I had stopped crying and miraculously managed to stay calm.
Deadly calm.
How I wished he'd show up at the top of those stairs, asked me what was going on in my mind and came to sit next to me. Then I'd pour it all out for him, watch him explain himself and the next second, I'd lean my head on his shoulder and I would be in his arms again.
But rarely any real romances flow in the same ways like how they are depicted in the books and movies.
I felt alone, overwhelmingly alone. The last time I felt this way was six years ago, in the freshmen year when no one wanted to be my friend until Harry and Ron came along. I often wondered if others were only nice to me because who I used to be close with. This thought seemed to be proven since now when that friendship faded, no one came to my side. No one but Ginny and Malfoy, the one who I didn't know whether I should trust, and the one who I used to trust.
How pathetic.
How many of Ginny's words could I believe? It could be the full truth, entirely fabricated, or anything in between. Though why would she lie? From the genuine concerned look on her face, it would be hard to believe she made all that up, and what for? If it was Lavender who came to speak with me about that matter, then I'd suspect it was a ridiculous way Ron planned to spread the rumor and make me doubt Malfoy's faithfulness.
But Ginny? Sure, we weren't too close for years, but after last year, the series of events bounded us together and feeling friendship was mutual.
More importantly, I trusted her.
Perhaps trusting others is an absurd trait.
I thought about Malfoy, about his intentions. I was sure he loved me, at least that was what I thought. If he didn't want me, why would he go above and beyond his way to get me to stay with him when our contract supposed to end? Or maybe this was all a sick joke to him, and he wanted to revenge his nemesis in the cruelest way possible.
I curled up to keep myself warm while attempting to solve the puzzle that I couldn't solve by myself.
As much as I didn't want to, I had no choice but to confront Malfoy.
Staying up late on the observatory without a jacket was definitely not the best idea, and I was surprised not to wake up to a cold. Dreaded and tired, I skipped breakfast and went straight to Potion.
With a troubled mind, I decided to sit in the very back, to which made Professor Slughorn rise his eyebrow and curled his lips, but I was glad he didn't say anything. Perhaps he saw the red puffiness in my eyes and figured I was bothered by some personal issues.
Other students began trailing in about five minutes after I got here, and I could hear Ron's voice from a distance before he even reached the threshold of the door. It reminded me of the days when I was walking right next to him, telling him to be quiet and not give Snape any excuse to get us into trouble.
How things had changed. Laughter was a distant memory, and so was Snape.
I shook the thoughts off and refused to live in the past.
"You missed breakfast," Someone sat down next to me and said quietly, "Why?"
"Just didn't feel like it," I shrugged and turned to look at Malfoy, pretending everything was fine.
"That's a lie," He said blatantly and frowned as he gently put his hand on mine. Slowly, he moved closer to me and stared at me in a way that I knew I couldn't lie to him, "Tell me, what's wrong?"
"Well," I swallowed, didn't dare to look away, "I don't know if this is the best time to talk about it, the class is about to begin."
"Is it about Pansy Parkinson?" He ignored the last part of my sentence and moved even closer. He repeated himself in a plain, almost intimidating tone, "Is it?"
I was about to answer him when Slughorn cleared his throat to signal the class had started, and I used this as an excuse to look away, as if it was possible for me to focus on a class right now .