A Cry for Help in the Shadows

Pansy stared at Draco.

She was not the only one. Everyone in that corner of the Slytherin common room stared in shock. Draco was paler than usual but stood his ground, not looking at anyone. His eyes stared past Pansy's ear, staring at the rug.

"You pushed me," Pansy said with disbelief. She looked up at him. Her knee hurt from hitting it on the way down against a low table. Her rear smarted from landing hard on the stone floor, the rug barely cushioning the blow.

The silence was thick and palpable, a sour taste on the tongue.

"You pushed me," she repeated dumbly. "You've never pushed me before, ever."

"You do not get to tell me what to do," he stammered back.

"I wasn't trying to," she said. It took all her willpower to keep from tearing up, to keep her voice from shaking.

"Yes, you were," he retorted. His voice became steady. "Besides, it was only a push. Do not be so childish. I did not hurt you."

Her body and her eyes were proof of the lie in his words. "Why are you being so mean?" she whispered. "What do you want from me?"

He flinched at the words slightly before his face hardened. "Just leave me alone Pansy! Just because we were close when we were younger does not mean you can hang onto me now!"

Something inside of Pansy throbbed and cracked. She climbed to her feet. "Okay," she whispered.

"Okay what?" Draco asked, his countenance uncertain.

"Okay," Pansy repeated. She turned and walked away, sliding deftly away from Millicent's outstretched hand. She shook her head slightly, stopping Millicent's protest. With as much dignity and false calmness she could muster, she walked slowly away, leaving the Slytherin common room. Once the wall slid shut behind her, separating her from the others, she finally let herself sob. She let herself feel as she fled.

She ran through the castle, up the stairs, and far away from the common room and the dungeons. She ran and almost tripped, turning the corner. Stumbling, she sank to her knees before crawling into an alcove. With her arms wrapped around her legs, her face buried into her knees, she let herself go completely.

Her sobs wracked her body and she let her tears run unchecked. For as long as she could remember, she had been told a proper Pureblood lady did not cry in front of others. She did not let others see her so basic, so undignified. Showing emotions was weakness, and weakness was a weapon to be used against you. So she had done her best to remain the Pureblood that she was in the presence of others and only now can she let herself be something else.

It was not fair. All she wanted was to spend more time with Draco. She could deal with Crabbe and Goyle being there all the time. She could accept that he wanted to spend time with other students, despite not being too happy about it. At first, she wanted it to be just her and him, like when they were younger. She accepted that he wanted to interact with the others in the House, feeling envious when he fawned over the other girls. She had watched him as he tried to ingratiate himself with the older boys.

She knew she was not completely without blame. She had needled him, thinking erroneously that any attention was wanted: positive or negative. She tried to fit herself in as much as she could, desperate for his attention once more. She joined in with his mocking of the other students, especially the students from the other Houses. It was her hope that it would help her stay in his good graces. Sometimes it worked. Other times it did not, resulting with him getting more short with her.

Just now was the worst of it however. When she tried to talk to him, he pushed her to get her out of his way. She could not remember a single time in the past where he had ever pushed her like that. Even when they were little children, he had not.

She let weeks' worth of emotion explode out of her as she continued to cry.

"H-Hello? Are you okay?"

The voice startled her and she cursed herself, trying to regain composure. When she looked up, she groaned internally, seeing Harry bloody Potter standing there. Of all people, she did not want to see him there. She did not want him to see her like that. "Wh-What do you want?" she spat, scrubbing at her eyes.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay," Harry said weakly.

"Really? Why?" Pansy let her embarrassment turn into anger. "Do I not look it?"

"Well, no, not really."

"Well spotted," she hissed. "Go on then. Have your fun."

"Why would I have fun?" Harry asked, confused.

"You cannot tell me that you are not enjoying this," she said angrily. "I have mocked you all these days. I have spread the rumors of you eating plants to others to humiliate you. This is the perfect chance for your revenge. Go on! What are you waiting for?!"

He shuffled from foot to foot. "I'm really not enjoying it," he said after a moment. "Sure, I don't like that you said those things but that doesn't mean I like seeing you so upset."

She glared at him. A part of her did not believe him. Gallingly, another part did. His sincerity pierced her anger and his concern infuriated her even more. She wanted comfort, but not from him. Not like this.

The silence between them was painfully awkward.

"Here." He held out his first handkerchief. He had fished it out of his pocket and wrapped a muffin in it before offering it.

"What is that?" she asked, staring at the offering with mistrust.

"A banana muffin," he replied, still holding it out. "Just made it."

She looked up at him. "You made it."

"Yeah. In Household Charms club. Baked it from scratch."

"What makes you think I want it?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I… I just hope it helps."

"Do you think I am crying because I am hungry?" she asked scathingly.

"I used to," he said plainly. He colored and looked away but he still held out the wrapped muffin, saying nothing more. He surprised himself, saying something so openly. Seeing Pansy so upset had touched something deep inside of him, letting a closely held secret loose.