Yeah, I know. I suck… Kinda short chapter, focusing more on Bella's reactions.
I reeled back from the doorway. I did not know what this was. But it frightened me. In a spilt second decision, I turned to race away. I ran back to the dormitories, scurried into my bedroom, falling with relief into the soft warm bed. I threw my fists over my eyes, gasping for air as my pulse slowly returned to normal, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my legs burned and my body shuddered.
The inherent evil I felt coming from that room scared me beyond imagination. I felt cold, but still pulled in the direction of Draco Malfoy. Something, when he brushed his arm against me accidentally as he walked away furiously, when he look at my chocolate brown eyes with his icy gray stare, My spine tingled.
Based on Ron's apparent hatred of Draco, I wondered what Draco had done to him and Harry in the past. I wondered if it was reversible. Could Draco and I pursue a relationship if possible- I slowed my rambling thoughts as I realized I was hyperventilating and not thinking. I had barely met him, I do not think he even know my name. In order to form a plausible relationship, one must at least know the name of the other, and most likely, it was not usual to obsess about the other before even talking to him.
I sat up in a sudden rush. What was happening to me? I am not acting like myself; I was not some boy crazy, hormonal teenager. This siren call cast over me was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I could not explain it.
But then, the realizations came to me. Whatever that mark was, why Draco had it, wherever he got it, it terrified me. Some primal instinct within my deepest parts urged me to run – and fast.
Just then, the door swung open. Hermione came in, humming lightly under her breath, carrying a large stack of books. She started when she saw me, lounging on the bed.
"Oh, Bella! I didn't see you there. You startled me."
"Sorry," I murmured
"It's alright, I was wondering where you had gone to. We are not allowed to wander around."
"Oh. I didn't know that. I'm sorry."
She smiled at me, then turned to drop her books on her bed. She paused, then sat on my bed.
"Bella," she asked hesitatingly, "are you alright?"
I looked down, fiddling with a tassel on the coverlet sitting atop the bed. I pondered the question for a moment, trying not to cry. I knew what she had meant. Homesickness. She wondered if I missed the hell I used to call my home. How could I tell her I was upset about Draco Malfoy and his inexplicable tattoo? How could I just tell her? She and Ron and Harry all hated him; that much was obvious. I knew I could not tell them.
"Bella?" Hermione's gentle voice pulled me from my reverie. I started, looking up to her face. She looked puzzled and concerned.
"Are you homesick?" She asked, predictably.
"No. Not all. Just worried, anxious, you know, about starting school. I mean, only a few weeks ago, I find out I'm a witch, I have magical powers, there is a school for me, I show up, there are whole races I have never even heard of! There are centaurs, elves, faries, monsters, giants-"
I cut off, taking a deep shuddering breath.
"I know you feel." Hermione said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears, "My parents were Muggles. I never even dreamed that these kinds of things were real . For me, it seemed impossible too. I was scared, worried, everything that you are feeling now.
"When I came here for the first year, for a few weeks, I hated Ron and Harry. They teased me, especially Ron. But then, they saved me from a troll, and we were thick as thieves. I'm just glad there is another girl in the group now."
We both chuckled. I opened my mouth to asked a question, then changed my mind at the last moment.
"Hermione? Why do Ron and Harry hate Draco Malfoy so much?"
Her eyes darkened slightly as she stood up and stood by the large bedpost. "Draco Malfoy is a pretentious ass and deserves to be stripped of his magic. If only that were possible." She muttered as an after thought.
"But why does everyone dislike him, especially you three? I mean, you must have a reason."
"Draco Malfoy is constantly picking on Ron because he does not think that Ronald is worth the dirt Malfoy walks on. He thinks he is better than Ron because his family is pure-blood, Muggle –haters, and rich. They are allegedly descended directly from Salazar Slytherin himself.
"Harry hates Malfoy because Malfoy's father is a Death Eater."
"Death Eater?" I asked, confused.
"Yes, a Death Eater. They were a band of followers. They followed You-Know-Who-"
"No, I don't"
She looked around, licked her lips, and whispered a name.
I felt a shiver go through me.
"Voldemort?" I whispered back.
"Yes, but do not say it out loud, especially around Harry."
"Why?" I was still confused, though I had a feeling a dread spread through my body.
"Voldemort killed his parents."
I gasped, reeling backwards.
"And Draco's father is a part of that group?"
She nodded gravely.
"Well, what qualifies you to be a Death Eater?"
"I don't know," she said, turning around, "I do know that there is a mark that you get on your arm. It enables you to call the Dark Lord."
"What does it look like?" I asked, almost one hundred percent sure I did not want to hear what was going to come out of her mouth next.
"It looks like a skull with a snake through it." Her backed was still turned when I closed my eyes slowly and visualized what the mark on Draco's forearm. It was exactly as she described. I fell back on my pillow, not wanting to believe this.
It couldn't be. He was evil, was he?
Draco. The name haunted my mind, stirred my heart, it was burned against the back of my eyelids.
"Good night, Hermione. I'm tired."
Draco. The last thought on my mind, before a turbulent sleep claimed me.