Awakenings

Awakenings - Part Four

He was spinning.

Swirling in circles. The speed increasing with every rapid beat of his heart. There was no ways to stop it, it had gotten out of control, too quickly. All he could hope was that it would stop soon, and he could get away unscathed. How it had gotten so out of control, so quickly he didn't know. His whole world was sitting on it's head, nothing was how it should be. The tiny scrap of a life that he clinged to was slipping away, he was losing grip of it. His feelings changed from moment to moment. One minute he'd be happy to be here, happy to be alive. Then he would be feeling guilty, for the role he played, and not being able to do anything to fix it.

He shouldn't be here. He didn't think she knew, maybe he had told her. Draco doubted that, he didn't think it was something that was freely discussed. She was truly a Gryffindor, that was it. Looking past the flaws, and seeing a smidgen of something good. Or in his case, hoping to see something redeeming. He wanted to jump up and down, and tell her he had no such qualities. That in itself would draw attention to himself, he would rather she looked at him through rose-coloured glasses, than turn her inquisitive eye onto him. So he hid, in plain sight. For the most part living in memories, clinging to them like a life preserver. They weren't all good memories, but they were his. His life wasn't perfect, it never had been.

The life of a pampered rich boy wasn't as carefree as many imagined. Pressure was applied to his shoulders at every point. He had to be top of the class, had to be the best Quidditch player, he had to be popular, he had to have the girl on his arm that everyone wanted. He had to be perfect. There were flaws in him however, things that made it impossible for him to be perfect. While every bit of him wanted to be the perfect son, his faults stood in the way. He was too competitive at the wrong times, in the wrong areas. Too focused on beating everyone else. Make no mistake, he wanted to win. Draco wanted to be the best at everything he did, he wanted his fathers approval, his love. Maybe that's why he never succeeded. He ached for something he could never have.

Lucius Malfoy was not a giving wizard. At least, not in regard to his only son. They had been the picture perfect family. Two beautiful parents both from respected, and in equal parts, feared families. Together they were were breathtaking, and he Draco, was their well turned out son. They should have been happy, the world was at their feet. Anything and everything was possible. While Draco quite obviously believed in magic, he didn't believe in curses of the bad luck kind. Voodoo charms being placed on people, pure superstition. You make your own luck, whether it be good or bad. He didn't believe his family to be cursed, as he had heard muttered occasionally. No, the reason for his families rather rapid fall into the great abyss, was firmly rested on the shoulders of his grandfather.

He had placed his faith, and his families good name, in a young ambitious wizard. Someone who claimed to be working for the greater good of the Wizarding world. Maybe he would have succeeded too, who knew how different the world would have been if he had. But he didn't, for reasons Draco didn't know, he was brought down by a baby. The saviour of their kind, brought down by a mere child. It was laughable. There was nothing to be laughed at though when you looked at the shreds that remained of his family. Following in the path set down by his grandfather, his father became nothing more than a puppet. A very giving puppet. His whole life, devoted to all that Voldemort wanted. His marriage left in tatters, and the relationship that he should have had with his son; didn't exist. He had learned early on in life that he wasn't going to get his fathers approval. It was impossible when his father was searching for the same thing himself. That didn't stop him trying though. Always pushing himself that little bit harder in his quest. He never got it though, it was a pointless exercise. He just couldn't find it in himself to stop though, and say, enough.

There had been someone who had given it to him, when his father failed him time after time. A hand on his shoulder, a glimmer of an encouraging smile. While it was never from the right source, that little taste of what he was missing gave him what he needed. He took strength from it. Sadly he always seemed to shunt it to the side, still searching for the unattainable. He hadn't appreciated it while he had it, and now his source of fatherly pride was in the wind. Out there, doing Merlin knows what. Fighting to stay alive, fighting to retain his sense of self, fighting to hide it all.

Right now as his life was seemingly spinning off it's axle, there were only two people to help him. Help him to regain some sense of order, of normalcy. The only people who it seemed, truly understood. While one was gone, the other remained here at Hogwarts. Draco hadn't spoken to him in a long time. So much had been said that last time he saw him, things that he didn't remember, and didn't want to remember. He was however, the only one he could talk to. If he wanted to hang onto that smidgen of control he had now, if he wanted to start regaining the control, he would need to talk to him. It was the only way.

-

The common room began to fill rapidly, and he took that as his sign to leave. Being the resident punching bag wasn't his ideal situation. Especially not when Crabbe and Goyle were the fists. Packing his bag quickly, he moved past them, and out of the room without looking anyone in the eye. That was just asking for trouble.

Draco made it into the hallway, and through the crowd around the entranceway. With a few not so helpful shoves from underclassmen. He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the other side, only to draw it back when someone grabbed his elbow.

"Draco."

"Blaise," he exhaled. "Let's move," ignoring the glares around them Draco moved further down the hall.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?"

"Away from here for a start," he said bitterly. "I was heading off to study in the library."

"Brilliant,I'll join you."

"Oh!" Draco looked around the corridor for open ears. "That might not be the best idea."

Blaise looked at him closely, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I got paired up with Granger in class, we have a project to work on together," he said quietly.

"Not seeing the problem here Draco. I need to study, plus I daresay Granger and yourself will need a referee," he laughed.

"No. Problem. Big one. Do you remember what happened the last time Granger was part of our conversation?"

"Of course I bloody remember. I'm not likely to bloody forget it," he snapped. "But as you so clearly told me, it's not going to happen again. So like I said, no problem."

Draco watched as Blaise stormed away, heading towards the library. "Right, no problem," he muttered, walking behind him. Hermione thankfully displayed no shock when Blaise sat down opposite her in the library.

"He's our referee," Draco said as he slumped into the chair next to her.

"We don't need a referee."

"Tell him that," he said bitterly.

Hermione looked at Blaise for a moment, who was turning the pages of his potions text viciously, his jaw clenching the entire time. She gazed over at him, and shook her head. "Let's just get started."

-

He found it impossible to concentrate.

He looked at the words on his page, and the ink swan and swirled together. The words in his text book may as well have been written in a different language. Hermione seemed to be taking enormous breaths next to him, he could hear, feel everyone one of them. Every move that Blaise made he noticed it, he had to stop himself from echoing it. He was right, so very right. It was a problem. Draco was just about to give up on this studying caper, it wasn't working, when Hermione spoke up.

"This is the wrong book," she said snapping it shut. "I'm just going to go get the right one. Won't be a minute."

Draco nodded, thankful for the slight peace he now felt. Blaise's quill stopped moving, but he didn't look up. He waited till Hermione had disappeared into the stacks.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

Draco smiled slightly, "It's my fault, I'm constantly on edge these days."

"I was the one that snapped."

"I provoked it, my fault."

Blaise looked up at him, and began in a quiet voice, "it's just forgetting is hard. I don't want to, but Merlin knows I'm trying, because you want to."

"It's just easier to forget it, it would bring too many complications. The last thing my life needs right now is more bloody complications."

"It doesn't have to, it could make things simpler. If we tried, who knows?"

"But, we aren't."

"No, we aren't."

Draco closed his book, studying was definitely out of the question now. "I'm going to find Granger, help her find this bloody book."

"Right," Blaise began packing his things. "You don't need me, I'll see you back in the dorm."

He nodded, and watched him go. Draco felt bad for the way he was treating his only friend, but it was the only way he could think to make it all go away. This giant mess, it was all made by him. He'd screwed it all up once again, and was so close to ruining the only friendship he had left.

All because of a kiss.

One simple kiss.

Although if he was being perfectly honest, it was three kisses. Each had managed to twist his heart in a different direction, leaving him gasping in the middle. He wanted Blaise to forget, he wanted Blaise to pretend it never happened. All because he wanted to pretend it never happened. He wanted to close his eyes, and not see himself kissing his best friend. Draco didn't want to wake up in the morning, after dreaming of Blaise kissing Hermione with his hand wrapped around his spent length.

He wanted his life to return to what it was. It hadn't been perfect, it hadn't been great; but it was his, and he had had complete control over it.

Draco wanted to turn back the clock, back to that day, and never be in that corridor. He wanted to have never seen it. To erase it from his memory.

One kiss could surely not ruin a life.

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