Phenomenon
When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.
It was the light. It was still the greyish light of a cloudy day in London, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no fog veiling my window.
I jumped up to look outside and smiled.
A fine layer of snow covered the yard, sprinkled atop the opposite roofs like frosted gingerbread houses, dusted the top of the Nimbus 2000, and whitened the road. But, unfortunately, the rain from yesterday had frozen solid — coating the branches of trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the pavements and walkways a deadly ice slick. I would rather not practise my audition for Dancing on Ice.
Sirius had left for work before I got downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Sirius was like having my own place, and I didn't mind much, but it only worsened the feeling of loneliness.
I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some orange juice from the carton. I felt excited to go to school, and that scared me. I knew it wasn’t the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends, who were nice. But, if I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Draco Malfoy. And that was very, very stupid.
I shouldn't be this bothered about her. I was still off-put by the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from her, and I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured her ethereal face and perfect hair, longing to run my fingers through it and know how it felt. Spending more time looking at her — watching her lips move, marvelling at her skin and body, listening to her voice — was certainly not going to help with that. I didn’t exactly trust her anyway, she seemed like the conniving, mean-girl type.
It took every ounce of my concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. I slipped when I finally got to the Nimbus, but I managed to cling to the side mirror and save myself. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish.
Driving to school, I distracted myself from my unwanted speculations about Draco Malfoy by concentrating on not skidding the truck across the road, however, the Nimbus seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction to school.
When I reached the school car park, I stayed inside for a little while, absorbing the last of the Nimbus' warmth before I had to step outside and into the bitter cold.
But after I shut the door, I heard an odd sound. It was a high-pitched screech, and almost as soon as I registered it, the sound was already painfully loud.
I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once.
Draco Malfoy was standing four cars down from me, mouth open in horror. Her face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. Also, a dark blue van was skidding, tyres locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the car park. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing between them. I didn’t even have time to close my eyes.
Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the ground behind the red car I’d parked next to. But I didn’t have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again.
“Come on!” She said the words so quickly I almost missed them, but the voice was impossible not to recognize.
Two thin, white hands shot out in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, her pale hands fitting exactly into a deep dent in the side of the van’s body.
Then her hands moved so fast they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag doll’s, till they hit the tyre of the red car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my ears, and the van settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt — exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been.
It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. In the abrupt chaos, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Draco Malfoy's low, frantic voice in my ear.
“Potter? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up and realized she was holding me against the side of her body in an iron grasp. I must have been more traumatized than I realised because I couldn’t budge her arm at all. Was I weak with shock?
“Stop moving,” she warned as I struggled and she righted my crooked glasses for me. “I think you hit your head pretty hard.”
I became aware of a throbbing ache centred above my left ear.
“Ow,” I said, surprised.
“That’s what I thought.” Her voice, amazingly, sounded like she was suppressing laughter.
“How the...” I trailed off, trying to clear my head, gather my bearings. “How did you get over here so fast?”
“I was standing right next to you, Potter,” she said, her voice suddenly serious again.
I turned to sit up, and this time she let me, releasing her hold around my waist and sliding as far from me as she could in the limited space. I looked at her concerned, innocent expression and was disoriented again by the force of her silver-coloured eyes. What was I asking her?
And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.
“Don’t move,” someone instructed.
“Get Justin out of the van!” someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Malfoy's cold hand pushed my shoulder down.
"Just stay bloody still."
“But it’s cold,” I complained. I wasn't surprised when she tsked in annoyance. There was an edge to the sound.
“You were over there,” I suddenly remembered, and she glared down at me. “You were by your car.”
Her expression darkened.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“I saw you.” All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruff voices of adults arriving on the scene.
"Harry!" I heard a familiar voice roar in panic. I realised it was Remus.
"I'm ok, Remus!" I called back to appease him before turning back to Malfoy, stubbornly holding on to our argument; I was right, and she was going to admit it.
“Potter, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way.” She unleashed the full, devastating power of her eyes on me as if trying to communicate something crucial. Like the silver of her eyes turned up like her eyes were drugging me, hypnotizing me. It was intense in a weird, exciting way.
“No.” I set my jaw.
The ice-cold silver in her eyes practically crystallised before me. “Please, Potter.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Trust me,” she basically demanded, her eyes hard in determination, but her soft voice was overwhelming.
I could hear the sirens now.
“Will you promise to explain everything to me later?”
“Fine,” she snapped, suddenly exasperated.
“Fine,” I repeated angrily.
It took six EMTs and two teachers — Mr Lockhart and Remus — to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Malfoy vehemently refused hers, insisted she hadn’t been touched, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I’d hit my head and then made it sound worse than it was, throwing around words like concussion and haemorrhage. I almost died of humiliation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Malfoy got to ride in the front. It was maddening. It was a thousand times more humiliating than I’d imagined today would be, and I had only just gotten out of my truck.
When they’d lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the red car’s bumper — a very distinct dent that fit the slim shape of Malfoy's narrow shoulders... as if she had braced herself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame... I remembered the sensation of almost flying through the air... that hard mass that had pinned me to the ground... Malfoy's hand under the frame of the van, like it was holding the van off the ground...
And then there was her family, looking on from a distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval (Blaise) to fury (Pansy), but held no hint of concern for their little sister’s safety.
I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen — a solution that excluded the assumption that I was insane.
Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Malfoy simply glided through the hospital doors under her own power. I ground my teeth together.
They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pale blue curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm (thankfully, the one with no tattoo) and checked my temperature. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided I wasn’t obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro and tossed it to the end of the bed.
There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. I recognized Justin Finch-Fletchley from my Psychology class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Justin looked a hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me.
“Harry, I’m so sorry!”
“I’m fine, Justin — you look awful, are you all right?” As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.
He ignored me. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong...” He winced as one nurse started dabbing at his face.
“Don’t worry about it; you missed me.”
“How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone...”
“Umm... Malfoy pulled me out of the way.”
He looked confused. “Who?”
“Draco Malfoy — she was standing next to me.” I wasn't that bad of a liar, but even I didn’t think I sounded believable at all.
“Draco? I didn’t see her... wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is she okay?”
“I think so. She’s here somewhere, but they didn’t make her use a stretcher.”
I knew I wasn’t crazy. What had happened? There was no way to explain away what I’d seen.
They wheeled me away then, to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER, waiting, placating Justin's constant apologies and promises to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I was fine, he continued to torment himself. Finally, I closed my eyes and ignored him. He kept up a remorseful mumbling.
“Is she sleeping?” a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open.
Malfoy was standing at the foot of my bed, her expression more a smirk than a smile. I glared at her, trying to put the pieces together in my head. She didn’t look like someone who could stop attacking vehicles with her bare hands. But then, she also didn’t look like anyone I’d ever seen before.
“Hey, Draco, I’m really sorry—” Justin began.
Malfoy lifted a hand to stop him.
"I don't care, Justin. Just shut up," she said boredly, and he shut his mouth with an audible click of teeth. Malfoy moved to sit on the edge of Justin's bed, facing me. She smirked. “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked me.
“There’s nothing wrong with me at all, but they won’t let me go,” I complained. “How come you aren’t strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?”
“It’s all about who you know,” she answered. “But don’t worry, I came to spring you.”
Then, a doctor walked around the corner. He was around the same age as Sirius, with chin-length, black hair and a hooked nose. He was pale, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes.
“So, Miss Potter,” the doctor said in a smooth, low voice, “how are you feeling?”
I read his name tag — it was Dr Snape.
“I’m fine,” I said, for the last time, I hoped.
He walked to the lightboard on the wall over my head and turned it on.
“Your X-rays look normal,” he said. “Does your head hurt? Draco said you hit it rather hard.”
“It’s fine,” I repeated with a sigh, throwing a quick scowl toward Malfoy.
The doctor’s cool fingers probed lightly along my skull. He noticed when I winced.
“Tender?” he asked.
“Not really.” I’d had worse.
I heard a scoff and looked over to see Malfoy with her lip curled in irritation. My eyes narrowed, what did she have to be irritated about?
“Well, your guardian is in the waiting room — you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all.”
That sounded kind of great, missing a day of school. But... would I miss the opportunity to spend it with Malfoy?
I glanced at Malfoy. “Does she get to go to school?”
“Someone has to spread the good news that we survived,” Malfoy said smugly, a slight grin on her lips now.
“Actually,” Dr Snape corrected with a drawl, “it appears that some friends seem to be in the waiting room.”
“Oh no,” I moaned, covering my face with my hands. I suppose it was nice of them to check in with me.
Dr Snape raised his brow. “Do you wish to stay?”
“No, no!” I insisted, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and hopping down quickly.
“Take some Paracetamol for the pain,” he suggested as he wrote something down on a clipboard.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I insisted.
“It sounds like you were extremely lucky,” Dr Snape said with a certain drawling edge as he signed my chart. He sort of sounded bored, but there was also a nerve-wracking undertone.
“Lucky M- Draco just happened to be standing next to me,” I amended with a hard glance at the subject of my statement.
"Indeed,” Dr Snape agreed, suddenly occupied with the papers in front of him. I could see similar mannerisms between him and Malfoy. Then he looked away at Justin, and walked to the next bed. My intuition flickered; the doctor was in on it.
“I’m afraid that you’ll have to stay with us just a little bit longer,” he said to Justin and began checking his cuts.
As soon as the doctor’s back was turned, I moved to Malfoy's side.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I hissed under my breath. She took a step back from me, her jaw suddenly clenched.
“Sirius is waiting for you,” she said through her teeth.
I really should have just left, Sirius was probably worried sick. But I glanced at Dr Snape and Justin.
“I’d like to speak with you alone, if you don’t mind,” I pressed.
Malfoy glared — but it wasn’t the same as that first day, not nearly as homicidal, so I just waited. After a second, she turned her back and stalked quickly down the long room. I nearly had to run to keep up. As soon as we turned the corner into a short hallway, she spun around to face me, her hair whirling around with the motion like a fluffy cloud.
“What do you want?” she asked, sounding annoyed, as usual. Her eyes were cold.
Her unfriendliness didn't intimidate me this time.
“You owe me an explanation,” I reminded her sternly.
“I saved your life — I don’t owe you anything,” she sneered with resentment, cocking her hip to the side and folding her arms.
But I stood firm.
“You promised.”
“Potter, you hit your head, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her tone was cutting.
My temper flared now, and I glared defiantly at her. “There’s nothing wrong with my head.”
She glared back with a chilling iciness. “What do you want from me, Potter?”
“I want to know the truth,” I said. “I want to know why I’m lying for you.”
“What do you think happened?” she snapped.
It came out in a rush.
“All I know is that you weren’t anywhere near me — Justin didn’t see you, either, so don’t tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us both — and it didn’t, and your hands left dents in the side of it — and you left a dent in the other car, and you’re not hurt at all — and the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up...” I could hear how crazy it sounded, and I couldn’t continue. I was so mad I could feel the tears coming; I tried to force them back by grinding my teeth together.
She was staring at me, her eyes wide and incredulous. But she couldn’t entirely hide the tension, the defensiveness.
“You think I lifted a van off you?” Her tone questioned my sanity, but there was something off; it only made me more suspicious. It was like a perfectly delivered line by a skilled actor.
I merely nodded once, jaw tight.
She smiled, hard and mocking. “Nobody will believe that, you know.”
“I’m not going to tell anybody.” I said each word slowly, carefully controlling my anger.
Surprise flitted across her face, and the smile faded. “Then why does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” I insisted. “I don’t like to lie — so there’d better be a good reason why I’m doing it.”
“Can’t you just thank me and get over it?”
“Thank you.” I waited, seething and expectant.
“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“In that case... I hope you enjoy disappointment.”
We scowled at each other in silence, my thoughts scattered by how beautiful her anger was. I was the first to speak, trying to keep myself focused. I was in danger of being distracted by her livid, glorious face. It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.
“Why did you even bother?” I asked frigidly. I should have probably died, be reunited with my parents.
She paused, and for a brief moment, her stunning, perfect face was unexpectedly vulnerable.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
And then she turned her back on me and walked away, her hair swishing as she strutted.
I was so angry, it took me a few minutes until I could move. It felt good to be angry, but frustrating I couldn't shout in Malfoy's face. When I could walk, I made my way slowly to the exit at the end of the hallway.
"Harry!"
The waiting room was more unpleasant than I’d feared. Sirius rushed to my side with tears in his eyes, grabbing at my shoulders, arms, face to search for a single scratch. His panic only saddened me, and I readily accepted his tight embrace, more bone-crushing than the car crash should have been. I hugged him back as tightly as I could, murmuring reassurances that I was ok and that it was just an accident. The whole fiasco was just an accident, I thought bitterly.
But having Sirius fuss over me and cry quietly into my shoulder shook any lingering thought of that away, and I focused solely on him. Remus came over, gripping our shoulders with a grounding touch. I nodded to my friends, waving them off with a reassuring look that I was fine and would see them again soon. Ron must have driven them all there, he was the only other one with a car.
“What did the doctor say?” Sirius asked wetly as he pulled back, cradling my face gently between his callused, tattooed hands.
“Dr Snape saw me, and he said I was fine and I could go home.” He sighed in relief, recognising the name I had mentioned when I asked him about Malfoy. “Let’s go,” I urged.
Sirius put one arm behind my back with Remus holding onto my shoulder, and led me to the glass doors of the exit. I waved sheepishly at my friends, hoping to convey that they didn’t need to worry anymore.
Remus got in his own car, and I went into Sirius' car — a Jaguar S-Type — to head back to Grimmauld Place.
Hedwig happily greeted me, although I could tell she felt something was wrong and was extra cuddly. Sometimes, I could swear she understood English perfectly.
Lots of tea was served as we came down from the hysterics, and I had to explain what had happened over and over again to a fretful Sirius, telling him I felt fine at least twenty times before he would calm down, ready to choke Justin with his bare hands. I stuck to the fabricated story that Malfoy and I somehow agreed upon. Sirius suddenly became reluctant about letting me go back to school, but I insisted that I would be all right, joking that I had used up all my bad luck for now and that I should be ok for another few months. Neither Sirius nor Remus were amused.
Sirius, however, was actually quite glad that I said I was with Malfoy and that she pulled me away in time, asking me how she and Dr Snape were. I lied, about Malfoy, of course. I told him that we got along just fine, but I couldn't see her being a friend, to which Sirius deflated. Remus looked unsure but didn't say anything.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of Dr Snape. He was nice and gentle enough but didn't seem all that interested in me — which, fair enough. I still hadn't spent enough time around him to conclude if I found him creepy or unlikeable like my friends had said he was. Just because he looked a bit intimidating didn't mean anything.
I retreated to bed early that day after Remus whipped up a quick, light lunch for us. I stopped at the landing, listening in to the quiet murmurs of Sirius and Remus.
"I don't know what I would have done, Moony," I could hear Sirius sigh heavily. "I can't lose her too."
"She's a strong girl, Padfoot," Remus comforted softly. "She's tougher than us all."
I slipped in quietly to my room, Hedwig following.
As I lay in bed that night, I was consumed by the mystery Malfoy presented, but I tried to think about anything else, like PE or my Psychology coursework due on Friday. I, however, had never been less interested in my schoolwork; I was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I did have Paracetamol at Sirius' insistence. They did help, and as the pain eased, I drifted to sleep.
That was the first night I dreamed about Draco Malfoy.