Why him?

AN: Thanks to everyone who is reading my story, and my beta who does a great job.

All reviews are very much welcome.

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The room was dark; exactly how i like it. There was no point in being depressed in a room filled with bright and happy sunshine. Of course the weather gods - if there were such things - decided to make it sunny when it felt like the end of the world for me.

Draco came in and tried to brighten my mood again by saying something rude about Harry and that whore. He ended up with a nasty spell on his lower part of the body and a warning that the next person who tried to lighten my mood would end up in St. Mungos.

Maybe I took it too far, being so angry all the time, but nobody put in my position would be in a better condition.

And because of that horrible mood I rarely saw Harry, it was like my rage was blocking him from my mind, and everybody else too for that mater. The only thing I did know was that my life had taken a turn for the worst.

*

Days passed and I was still in an exceedingly bad mood. I could hear the students around me talk and laugh, but I didn't see them; it was like I could only see my rage. I thought that someone would offer to help me again, but I guess that after my threats they were afraid of me, even Draco seemed edgy round me.

I didn't spend the whole week solely hating everything and everybody; I did actually try to find a way that could help me out of this mood. Of course I didn't think there was much that could help me but it wouldn't hurt to try. In the end I decided to try Snape, he seemed to have a potion for everything so maybe he knew what I could do with my bad mood, or bad memories.

*

I was standing in front of Snape, quiet and cold. I didn't want him to know how bad things actually were. I knew of one potion that could help me to forget, though it was difficult to brew, not to mention on the edge of illegal, but the old potion master must have authority to brew it.

“And what is it for?” he asked suspiciously after I'd told him what I wanted. Of course he wouldn't give me the potion just like that. I might be in his house but he doesn't trust anyone, especially not a Slytherin, even though he knows I'm not a Death Eater.

“To forget a person,” I replied truthfully. As usual he glared at me in a way that made me want to both run away and tell him everything. If only I had that kind of power, then I would never be bothered by anyone again.

“Does this person have a name?” Snape said, one eyebrow raised. I debated with myself; should I tell him? If I do then he will probably ask for more details, and how much am I really willing to share?

“The person is... well, it's a private love affair, sir,” I said, hoping he wouldn't push any further.

Miraculously enough he nodded and got up from his chair, walked over to his potion cupboard and removed the wards. Then, after a few seconds of staring at what seemed like hundreds of small potion bottles he grabbed one and handed it over to me.

I wondered if he knew who the person was and decided to help me, or if it was because he just felt sorry for me. If he felt sorry for me then he could take the potion back, I don't want any pity from anyone, including my professor.

But I didn't give it back; I needed it to live.

“There are directions on how to take it. Do not exceed the dose, understand?” I nodded and left with the vial tightly in my fist, heading straight to my bed.

The potion itself was green, just like his eyes, why couldn't I forget about him the normal way?

I looked at it, wondering if it would work. I shook my head; of course it will, I shouldn't question Snape's ability with potion brewing.

After reading the instructions I tapped the bottle five times with my wand, one tap for each agonizing month. I held the bottle up against my lips. The essence of the potion filled my nostrils; it smelled like flowers on a rainy day. And even if I didn't have any memory of Harry and flowers and rain I still thought about him. This must be what obsession feels like.

That was what made me tilt the bottle and swallow the content; I refuse to be chained up by my feelings. The liquid tasted worse than I thought, but I didn't care, just so long as it helps me.

After I managed to swallow the whole potion I felt tired. It was like the potion was sucking the life out of me. I had a horrific thought that maybe I had the wrong potion and this one was killing me.

I knew it was just my mind playing with me. If Snape wanted to kill me he wouldn't give me a vial that could be traced back to him. Before I became dangerously paranoid I lay down in my bed. It was better to try and sleep it off than try to stay awake, thinking that I might be dying.

*

The next morning I woke up to a bright, sunny day. I felt completely rejuvenated, new and fresh, anything that was the opposite of what I'd felt like the last week. I sat up in my bed and looked around, why was the room so dark? When I remembered it was because of my horrible mood I almost laughed; how could I be so low that I preferred the dark instead of the light?

What caused my depression in the first place is also a mystery, I know it was something important but I can't remember.

When I walked into the common room smiling everyone in my house looked at me strangely. Since I couldn’t remember the reason for my awful mood I didn’t understand why they all looked at me so strange.

Luckily for me I don't care what the reason might have been. I prefer to lay things behind me and move forward, and the potion I took was to forget something that I wanted to forget, so what was the point in trying to remember it?

*

Being in a good mood felt strange, especially since nobody talked to me. I know I prefer it that way but that doesn't mean I want them to avoid me like they avoided Peeves. But as the days passed and they saw I was normal again they smiled, said hello, talked with me and even invited me to join them.

Things started to become normal again, except that I couldn't get rid of the feeling that someone was watching me. In the beginning I told myself that everyone was watching to see what I would do next, but everyone in my house had gone back to normal so it couldn't be them. I tried to ignore the feeling but after a week it began to get creepy.

I would have looked for the person who was making me feel uneasy but I forgot all about it when I received a letter from Mother. She never sent me anything, so seeing as she’d sent one now meant it had to be something important.

And it was important, but not only that; it was bad news.

Death Eaters had been lurking around our home trying to enter; apparently their ugly, derranged leader wants my mother to join, and me too.

We have done a great job avoiding them, and everyone else, come to that; there aren't many that know our family well, so why would he be interested in me?

Draco came over to where I was reading the letter; I had to use all of my strength not to jump him and hit him. He was probably the one who told his Master about my family. I know his dirty little secret, he's tried to hide it but I knew he had that ugly tattoo on his arm. He and his whole family are weak; I would rather die than serve their lord.

“What you got there?” he asked. Like he didn't already know, the sneaky ferret, but I acted normal.

“I got an invitation home,” I said flatly.

It wasn't true but it would be soon enough. I needed to find a way to get home and get rid of the malevolent Death Eaters who were right outside my mother’s house, waiting for her.

“Something wrong?” he simpered.

“Something like that.” I folded the letter and pushed it down into my pocket before I left Draco standing completely alone.

*

Three minutes later I was standing outside Dumbledore's office, requesting a meeting with him which – luckily – was granted at once.

The Headmaster’s office was filled with everything that one could imagine, I wondered how anyone could find anything in this mess. Then I spotted Dumbledore sitting behind the big wooden desk, reading a big book.

“How may I help you, Mr Zabini?” he asked in a fatherly tone without looking up from his book. I decided at once that I needed to say it right out.

“I need a pass to travel home.”

The old man stopped his reading and placed his book on the desk and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Do you have any reason to leave school in the beginning of this term?”

Oh, how I longed for Snape. At least he would understand it was important and know not to ask stupid questions.

“I believe my mother is in great danger,” I said as calmly as possible.

“What kind of danger?”

Was this old man deaf as well as senile? He treated me like I was a child; when someone says “great danger” it means great danger.

“Death Eaters.”

I thought that once I mentioned the Death Eaters he would at least look worried, but instead he sat back into his chair and stoked his beard.

“Oh my, that is bad.”

He didn't understand it was bad when I said great danger? Oh, how I was looking forward to the end of this semester, then I won't have to see Dumbledore or anyone else who is just as dim-witted as him.

“I'm afraid I can't let you leave.”

I can tell you now, it’s a good thing that I happen to be excellent at hiding emotions because the first thing I wanted to do when I heard him deny me a trip home was to cut him in two.

“I cannot let a student run straight into danger. However, I can send a ministry agent over to keep an eye on your mother so no harm will happen.”

That wasn't what I wanted! I don't want someone to stare at the Death Eaters, I need someone that will kill them for trying to recruit me and my mother!

“I need to go home,” I said firmly.

“I’m sorry, Mr Zabini, but I can't allow you to leave.” I turned around from the old goat and walked away, but when he stopped me I thought, perhaps, that he had changed his mind. However, instead he asked me if I had bought a new sweater.

“New sweater?” I asked impatiently. What was this old man talking about?

“You’d better talk with him and come up with some sort of agreement for how to replace the old sweater.”

It didn't look like he wanted to say anything else so I left. What on earth was that man talking about? What sweater and with who? I couldn't remember anything about a sweater. Unless... unless that was what I tried to forget by taking the potion?

I didn't want to dig into my past, and I still don't, but it seems like I have no choice. The first thing to do now was to find Draco and see what he knows.