Entwined

That night at dinner, Desdemona ate alone. Her fellow Ravenclaw friends had heard the news that she was going to the ball with Draco and they were quite displeased. She was not the only one Draco had set out to belittle over the past few years. Her close friend, Emma, a muggle, had taken even more abuse than she had when they encountered him. She made no attempt to explain her actions to her friend because she couldn’t understand them herself. Emma also only briefly knew of their history together, knowing the two had grown up in the same area and were acquainted in childhood. Desdemona tried to think of how to explain how close she had once been with Draco as she picked at the last of her pudding. Draco seemed to be such a different person though; she found it impossible to describe how they used to be together to people who knew him as he was now.

Her thoughts were miles away from the gossip mill that ran steadily through Hogwarts. She was so preoccupied with the fact that she was going to the Yule Ball with Draco that she failed to notice that she had forgotten to tell him of her decision. She looked up startled from her plate as a paper airplane landed on her goblet. She quickly opened it and read, “Couldn’t tell me you were coming before you told the rest of the school?”

Desdemona’s heart sank. She had completely neglected to tell Draco and of course Pansy would have told half the world by now. Merlin knew what sort of rumors he had heard. She glanced behind her at the Slytherin table where he was sitting, pretending to be interested in a story a friend was telling. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she held his gaze. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the paper in her hands. She grabbed a quill from her bag and turned around in her seat and wrote back, “I only said ‘yes’ because it made Pansy so mad.” As soon as she had refolded the paper it took off, zooming back to Draco.

She stared down at her plate, and waited for what seemed like ages. She wondered if he was going to write anything back, but she didn’t dare to turn around and look at the table, knowing he would see. Finally, a tired little airplane crash landed into her hand. It read, “I respect that. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall at 8p.m. the night of the ball. Don’t be late.”

Draco and Desdemona did not speak in the days leading up to the Yule Ball. However, she did notice that the Slytherins she crossed paths with were all very tight lipped as none of them tossed remarks her way in the halls anymore. The rest of the student body was quite loquacious though and everyday a new rumor about her and Draco seemed to sprout. She didn’t care though. She actually found herself taking amusement in the odd stories people came up with to try and explain the unexplainable. The best she had heard was that she had been giving Draco the Amortentia potion. That was second only maybe to Draco having her under the Imperius Curse. But tonight was the ball and people were finally going to see for themselves. Although, how the night would go was unknown to both the school and Desdemona.

She stood in front of the full length mirror in her dormitory and examined her dress, a long, strapless gown which was now midnight blue in color. The mandatory necklace hung nicely and the emerald ring came to rest in the center of her chest. She glanced at her clock and noticed it was five after eight and she had to go. With one last turn, she checked her hair, which Emma had put into a lovely up-do before running off to meet her date, a handsome seventh year from Durmstrang.

As she approached the Great Hall she could hear music playing from inside already. She walked down the stairs and saw a few straggling students milling around. Her heart dropped for a moment and her mistrust for Draco returned momentarily. She wondered if it was time for the punch line. She set aside her fears though when a tall, blonde boy turned to look at her. She walked down the stairs to meet him.

“You’re late,” he said flatly.

“Sorry,” she replied, not really meaning it.

“And you’re wearing Ravenclaw colors.” He gave a flick of his wand and her dress turned silver.

“Hey! This dress was green originally! I changed it!” she fumed outwardly but silently noted the color looked enchanting next to his deep black dress robes.

He interrupted her rant, stating, “Don’t fuss. It looks fine.” He turned and headed towards the Great Hall. She didn’t move and he stopped to look at her. Walking back over, he offered her his arm and said with a bit of hesitance, “You look...good.”

She took his arm and they headed towards the large doors. “Ready for the weird looks?” asked Draco. “Latest rumor has it that you’re actually my long lost sister.”

Desdemona did not have time to digest Draco’s statement as they entered the ball. Everyone was involved in a formal dance and did not seem to notice them. She was grateful for this and followed Draco towards the dance floor where they blended in with the rest of the dancing students. She held his hands and her cold fingers began to warm. Her gaze could not meet his face though. Instead, her eyes trailed over the bright room and admired the colorful decorations. “Who knew those private dance lessons would pay off?” said Draco.

She smiled and remembered the lessons her mother had signed her up for when she was young. The instructor insisted she have a partner and so her mother suggested to Narcissa that Draco take lessons as well. “So, have you finally forgiven me for that?”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said.

The song ended and before the band could start another, a fifth year Gryffindor boy approached. “May I cut in?” he asked.

Desdemona finally allowed herself to look at Draco whose gaze was drifting over the boy with great disdain in his eyes. He snaked his arm around her waist, tighter and more possessive than before, and simply said, “No.”

The defeated boy left them and the pair danced for two more songs in a silence that had become almost comfortable between them. As the songs progressed, she let herself glance again at Draco whose eyes seemed to be waiting every time she dared to look. After the third time she gave up and instead held his gaze through the rest of the song. Afterwards he led her off the dance floor and she searched among the big, round tables. “Where are my friends?” she wondered aloud.

“Nevermind,” said Draco leading her to a table towards the center of the room where she noticed there were a gang of Slytherins already seated. “We’re sitting with my friends.” Before she could protest, Draco was introducing her to the group. “This is Crabbe, Millicent, Goyle, Tracey, Zabini, and Daphne,” he said, nodding to each one in turn, and then introducing her as Desdemona to the group. His formalities were almost laughable since she was well acquainted with the group and vice versa. In fact, she felt as if she had walked straight into the lion’s den. These were the very people who had aided in making a fool of her any chance they got. Although, she couldn’t help but notice that Pansy was unmistakably absent from the crew and she wondered if she was taking her seat as Draco pulled out her chair. They were seated and small talk about plans for Christmas break commenced.

Desdemona limited her talk to “yes” and “no” answers when she was spoken to. Draco on the other hand talked animatedly about the annual Malfoy Christmas party. Desdemona had played sick the past three Christmases in order to avoid having to go and Draco seemed to remember this. “Are you coming this year? Or are you going to have the flu again?” he questioned. She lacked a good retort, so she was quite happy when the blonde turned his attention to Crabbe who was getting up. “Bring us some punch on your way back,” he said and Crabbe nodded.

“Please!” said Desdemona, slightly appalled.

“Please, what?” asked Draco with a puzzled look.

“Bring us some punch on your way back, please,” she corrected. “You’re so rude, Draco.” She looked around the table and several mouths were dropped open in shock. She didn’t know what was odder to them – that she had just stood up to their ring leader or that she had backhandedly just defended Crabbe.

Next to her, Daphne, in a low voice that only she could hear, breathed, “Please don’t piss him off tonight. You’ll ruin it for everyone.” She hesitantly glanced at the girl. She sensed a little fear as they both looked away.

A second later Crabbe returned with their drinks which Desdemona quietly accepted. “Thank you,” said Draco very shortly and chancing an angry sideward look at his date.

Desdemona was almost completely silent throughout most of the meal that night. The group gossiped and insulted various students and faculty members. She chimed in occasionally where she could, but saw nothing wrong with half the people they mentioned. Most of their flaws only had to do with being part muggle, something she was willing to overlook since she had gotten to know several muggleborns in her time at Hogwarts. She didn’t voice her view though, not wanting to test their lapse in insults.

After dinner came more dancing with Draco. She felt a bit more at ease talking with him now than at dinner. “Your friends are nice,” she lied, although there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“They’re not,” he replied.

Desdemona was getting tired. Her feet were sore and her back was starting to hurt, thanks to her heels, and she was getting quite warm from dancing. “Well, they suit you,” she said. She quickly noticed his displeased look and quickly added, “But I don’t want to bicker again. Can we get some air? It’s warm in here.”

Draco accepted the swift change and accompanied her out to a garden by the side of the castle. It was long past sunset but there was a very full moon and some of the light from the ongoing ball spilled outside, so it was nearly as light as day. The night was cold though, which she had neglected to consider when she was nearly sweating a minute ago in the Great Hall. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself and shivered slightly. Draco removed the outer layer of his dress robes and draped it over her shoulders. “You’re crazy. You’re going to freeze,” she said, putting up a futile fight while she pulled the garment tighter around herself. It was already warm with Draco’s body heat and smelled like him. Desdemona was besieged with a million memories of childhood as she took a deep breath, but could not sort them as Draco interrupted her.

“I’ll be fine. It’s hard to freeze when you don’t have a soul.”

The remark was biting and she followed him to sit on a bench a short distance away. She suddenly felt awful for making the comment in the infirmary on that infamous day two weeks ago. She sat and turned to look at him. “You can’t still be mad about that. Besides, I didn’t really mean it. You know that.” He turned and looked at her, then returned his stony gaze forward. “And you’re one to talk! After everything you said to me over the past three and half years. You completely abandoned me. You’ve been nothing short of cruel.” There she had finally said it.

Draco still refused to look at her but nevertheless spat, “That was your own fault.”

This is not what she had expected him to say. She had done absolutely nothing to fault him. Even after he grew mean towards her, she simply swallowed most of his insults and criticisms without protest. “What did I do?” she asked with frustration, grabbing his arm and making him look at her.

“You fucked everything up!” Behind the anger in his eyes, she was able to see the hurt. “I had everything planned and you fucked it all up by being sorted into the wrong house. We were going to be in Slytherin and do everything together and then you just left because some senile old hat told you to. You knew how I was looking forward to it, how much it all meant to me.”

So that’s what this was about. She sighed, touching his shoulder gently but removing her hand when he shrugged it off. “I didn’t ask for that, Draco.” He didn’t respond. “If you’re so bitter, why did you ask me to come with you tonight?” He was persistent in his silence. “Why did you ask me?!” she said, her voice elevating not only in volume, but desperation as well.

“Because I miss you!” he blurted out. “I miss you more than I’m mad at you, ok?”
With that he stormed off and left Desdemona sitting alone on the bench. She pulled his cloak tighter around her and wondered how they had grown so far apart. When they were young Draco had occasionally gotten mad at her. Of course, it was always over trivial things, like the time she’d locked him in her cupboard. Unfortunately when she went to unlock it, the key broke and he had been trapped in there the whole afternoon until her mother returned in the evening. Draco had been late for dinner and Lucius had given him a lashing. The next day when she went to see him, he pretended not to be home. She found him sulking at the foot of a large elm tree by the side of his house. “What do you want?” he asked when she sat next to him.

In those days all she had to do to get Draco to forgive her was pout, place her head on his shoulder and say, “I’m sorry.” Her infractions in those days were small though compared to her latest predicament since Draco seemed to have taken her sorting as a personal betrayal. Things were no longer as simple as they were in those childhood days. Although, Draco had admitted he missed her, maybe if she could get him alone again, things could be fixed.

She was growing colder by the minute and Draco’s cloak no longer provided the warmth she needed in the December air that stung her cheeks. She stood and walked back inside, determined to find Draco and set things right. However, as she entered the hall, she saw no sign of him. She did see Daphne walking in her direction, her eyes growing dark as she approached. Blaise was at her side and Desdemona glanced around for an escape route, but thought better of running up the stairs away from them. Daphne stopped in front of her and said, “I told you not to piss him off. But you made him so angry he actually left.” Desdemona began to stammer an apology of sorts but was cut off. “He’s probably gone to look for Pansy since you snubbed him. They’re probably snogging right now.”

Desdemona was puzzled. “I didn’t snub him! And besides, he doesn’t even fancy me!”

Daphne and Blaise exchanged a look of slight worry, and she knew they pair were afraid they had let something slip. Apparently they had heard differently. Daphne quickly switched gears. “Is that his cloak? Do you want me to return it? He probably doesn’t want to see you and winter break begins tomorrow.”

Desdemona glanced at the cloak that was draped over her arm. “No, it’s okay.” She left them, and several other nosy onlookers to return to the Ravenclaw dormitory.
Back in her room she found Emma tinkering with her muggle radio. “Stupid thing, can never get any reception thanks to all the magic around this place,” she sighed, rolling around to look at her friend.

“Why are you back so soon?” asked Desdemona. She had expected Emma to come creeping into the room long after the extended curfew as she normally did when she off with a boy.

Emma sighed. “Carl and his friends were gulping down firewhiskey all night. He got sick right after dinner so I figured I’d just leave. I had enough of it anyway. Plus, I think I would have thrown up as well if I had to see you and Malfoy waltz around the dance floor one more time. Speaking of, where is the little ferret and why are you back so early? Couldn’t stomach the Slytherins?”

Desdemona sighed and sat down on her own bed. She removed her shoes from her throbbing feet and began to rub them where her shoes had pinched. “It’s complicated,” she said. “And yes, the Slytherins can be a bit vile.”

“That’s what you keep saying! ‘It’s complicated.’ But I don’t understand how it’s complicated. What is going on with you? You shouldn’t be getting involved in that boy or his crowd for that matter. As your best friend, I’m worried about you,” said Emma. She got up and sat on her friend’s bed, waiting for an explanation.

Desdemona knew it was time. She’d kept her friend in the dark, and now she needed help, so she set to telling Emma the full story. She started from childhood and left nothing out. She included the time Draco had accidentally apparated into her room and the arranged marriage their parents (still) planned for them. She even told her about the time she’d climbed too far up a tree and, petrified of falling, refused to come down. After a hearty laugh, Draco had climbed up himself and walked her down step by step. Of course, this was before either of them knew how to fly, and only a year after that they abandoned climbing trees for racing on brooms. She poured everything out and by the end all she could do was sit there crying and holding his cloak. “I just don’t know what to do to fix everything. He just keeps getting mad at me.”

Emma sat beside her dumbfounded. “So you’re telling me Malfoy is your soulmate and you’re supposed to marry him!?”

“Yes, damn it! We went through this already, Em!”

“Okay, first, stop crying. It doesn’t suit you,” began Emma, getting her a tissue and patting her back. Desdemona couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “Secondly, do you fancy him? Because you’re completely in denial about his feelings for you. He does not hate you. He dumped Pansy, brought you to the ball, and had you meet all his friends who were surprisingly civil to you and I’m guessing that wasn’t on their own accord. Then he tells you he misses you and storms off. Desdemona, he’s not mad at you. He’s hurt. And he likes you. Of course being Malfoy-“

“Draco,” she corrected.

“...being Draco,” the girl emphasized more than necessary, “he’d never admit it. He’s too proud.” She paused and looked at her friend. Desdemona could feel her eyes studying her. “So? Do you like him?”

She had never really thought about it until now. She’d only gone with him to the ball to make Pansy upset and before that he’d only been mean to her. “I dunno, I mean, we had some nice moments tonight.” She felt a betraying smile creeping at the corner of her mouth and tried to force it away. “But he’s mean and arrogant and spoiled and…” she paused again. “…but not a half bad flyer. And not bad on the eyes.”

“Oh, you’d snog him in a second!” teased Emma. They were quiet for a minute as Desdemona digested the fact that she did indeed have a crush on Draco. “You know what you have to do,” Emma said pointing to his cloak.

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A/N I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far. I notice that there are people reading, but sadly you don't leave any reviews (except for my lovely friend Alissa who knows my work from the days when I used to write Libertines slash). I'd really appreciate it if you could leave a short message if you've read so far. It would simply make my day. Also, I don't have any sort of beta for the story. I generally edit things myself which, thanks to Word and an English minor, usually gets the job done. But I'm always looking for people to preview the story for and run ideas by, so let me know if you may be interested. And, of course, thank you for reading!

oh, and I promise it'll get juicier in the upcoming chapters! ;)