Choice's Curse

Draco was gone. He’d been gone for four days now, if I counted correctly. And I’m pretty damn sure I did, because every time I went to a class or to the Great Hall and he didn’t show up, it was like I felt his absence in my chest. Like there was a piece of glass that cracked every time I thought he was going to be somewhere, and he wasn’t. 

Potions was the strangest by far. I was incredibly hyperaware of every time he didn’t saunter in, sit down next to me, and look like that was the last place he wanted to be in that moment. His presence had become such a guarantee, such an expected thing, and now that he’d been gone, things just felt... off.

You would think that after the first two days, I’d stopped hoping for him to appear, that my heart would stop jumping every time the classroom door opened until I turned around and it wasn’t Draco. That would be the logical thing to do, the reasonable thing. I could’ve just told myself to stop fretting and that he’d be back whenever he’d be back. 

But logic and reason hadn’t been my companions for a while now, and this was no different. I just...I hoped he was okay . I longed to know that he was alright, just so that my mind could stop spiraling around the myriad of reasons why he was gone. 

Or about who was the reason he was gone. I was terrified that somehow, his father had found out about us, even if there was really not much to find out about in the first place. Lucius Malfoy was a cruel bastard, though, and I knew that any small step out of line by Draco would easily be enough provocation to mistreat him. Finding out his precious, Pureblood Slytherin son had willingly kissed a Muggleborn? That might as well be a death sentence. There was no telling what his father would do if that information ever came to light. 

And if it was my fault? Perhaps I was confused still, still a bit adrift and uncertain about how I wanted things to turn out, but I knew I cared enough about Draco that I would likely drown in my own guilt if he was hurt because of me. 

I just needed to see for myself that he was alright. Maybe it was left-over anxiety from my own father, or because I knew his father was similar to my own, but I didn’t like not knowing. I didn’t like it because I knew what went on behind closed doors. 

Hermione could tell I was on edge. So could Ron and Cho, judging by the worried glances they sent my way every time they saw how tired and how distracted I was. I felt like everyone could see the way that I was so full of nervous energy that I started at every sudden, loud noise. They could tell, and yet I couldn’t explain to them why. I couldn’t tell them I was anxious because the boy who’d bullied me for six years was gone and I had no idea where he was or why he’d left. 

I wanted to, though. By the sixth day of Draco’s absence, when I was nearly keeling over with exhaustion because my brain hadn’t let me sleep in days, I wanted to confide in someone about how I was feeling. How I felt that his absence was like a tear in my chest, and nothing other than seeing him in person would repair it. 

Even I was a bit confused as to why Draco being gone was affecting me so much. Maybe talking about it would help. How had I grown so attached to his presence without noticing? 

The lack of sleep was wearing on me, but I couldn’t coerce my mind to shut down long enough to let me get sleep that wasn’t restless and full of tossing and turning. Endless images of Draco being hurt paraded across my imagination in a vile mimicry of counting sheep. I felt foolish for being so dramatic, but given the first time I had saved Draco, the time that had really started all of this, I knew that perhaps my worries weren’t entirely unwarranted. 

The amount of concerned looks that I received from my friends told me I wasn’t hiding my worry well enough. Or really at all. 

And the worst part? I had just decided the day before he disappeared that even if I didn’t know how I wanted things between him and I to develop, I owed him an explanation of my feelings. Draco had now confessed to me not once, not twice, but three times how he felt and I had practically said nothing. He had earned the right to know what I thought of him, but I couldn’t seem to ever get my words to come out in the right order before he inevitably ran away. 

Saying that I wanted to tell him how I felt because I owed him was my own odd way of jusitifying it, I think. I still wasn’t brave enough to admit to myself that I wanted to tell him I was falling for him because I wanted something to happen. I honestly didn’t know if I ever would be brave enough. 

I wasn’t a Gryffindor, after all.

I had just worked up the courage to do so, and now I was more unsure than ever. What if this was some sort of sign from the universe? What if something was screaming at me not to tell him how I feel, and this is its way of giving me time to get over him?

Maybe I was more emotionally messed up than Draco was. That thought made me snort. God, just how fucked up did I have to be that Draco could explain his feelings better than I could? At least it didn’t seem that Draco had to lead himself through all these hoops just to confront his own emotions. 

I wasn’t entirely to blame, if it mattered. Sure, he told me how he felt, but he never gave me enough damn time to respond. He never even gave me enough time to really get over the shock of hearing him say he felt something for me. Knowing Draco like I did now, I knew it was likely because he’d rather instigate the rejection than have it come from me. 

He was shooting himself in the foot, though. If he even took a single second to wait, to listen, he would know that…

That I felt the exact same way. I felt the- fuck - the love and the fear and the slight repulsion and the anxiety. I felt all of it. 

Maybe his absence was a good thing. Maybe the fact that I couldn’t see him or keep running into him meant I finally had the space to unravel my feelings for him. All it seemed to be doing was complicating things. 

Well, I had. I’d figured it out, so I wanted him back now. I wanted to smell his stupid cologne, I wanted to hear his snide voice, even if it was insulting me, I wanted to see the way his silver eyes darted to me when he thought no one was looking. 

I wanted Draco.

-------

The eighth day, when I was eating a meager breakfast of apples and oatmeal because my stomach was in such tight knots that I could barely swallow food, Draco walked in. 

I almost thought it was a figment of my imagination, because, well, he looked good . He looked healthy, rested, even. The dark circles I’d grown so accustomed to under his eyes were practically erased, and his complexion had a glow about it that suggested he’d been eating and getting enough sleep. 

A wave of relief washed over me. As morbid as it sounds, I was preparing myself for the worst: bruises, gaunt cheekbones, slumped shoulders. But Draco had none of those as he sauntered over to the Slytherin table and sat with Zabini and Parkinson. 

Parkinson, who sidled up to him and looked at him like he had hung the moon in the sky. 

As far as I knew, he hadn’t pursued things with her. It struck me, though, that I didn’t know. He hadn’t mentioned her in a while, but why would he ever talk about her to me? He’d never done so before. 

Well that certainly put a damper on the excitement I had felt seeing Draco after a week. 

As I watched them, only half paying attention to my food, it seemed like he couldn’t care less about her. He didn’t even bother to glance over her as she spoke to him. That wasn’t unusual for Draco, though. He didn’t parade his feelings, and he didn’t give anyone the time of day. It was bothering me more than it should, like a bug crawling under my skin, as I witnessed Pansy lay her hand on Draco’s arm. 

“‘Lainy?” 

“What?” I asked, pulled back to my table, where Hermione was furrowing her brow at me. 

“You, um,” she gestured to my spoon of oatmeal, which had been hovering in the air so long it was cold. “Seem distracted.”

“Oh,” was all I said before I plopped the oatmeal back down into my bowl. 

“You’ve been really zoned out lately,” she said. “I’m getting worried.”

“Don’t be,” I told her. “I’m really okay. I’ve just had a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Hermione didn’t seem convinced, but that didn’t surprise me. She wasn’t easily deceived. “You know, if you would just talk about it, you might feel better. It might help to get some of those thoughts out into the open.”

I sighed, rubbing my face. “I know, it’s just…you know that boy I told you about?”

Hermione nodded. I tried to pick my words carefully, choosing ones that were as vague as possible. “I guess things aren’t going the way that I had hoped? Maybe not the way I’d hoped, but…”

“They’re not going well,” Hermoine finished for me. 

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling the raw skin there that I’d been bothering for days now. “Not really, no.”

“And you still don’t want to say who it is, I’m guessing.” 

I nodded, that familiar pang of guilt rippling through me. “Not particularly. I’m...not embarrassed, I guess, not anymore. But…”

“You think we’d judge you. You think I’d judge you,” Hermione offered. 

Frankly, I did. Hermione had had it nearly as bad from Draco as I had, and Ron hated him so violently that I was hesitant to even mention Draco’s name around him. And Harry? Christ, Harry would probably either die from shock or he would really never speak to me again. 

“Yes. You would,” I confirmed softly, looking down at my pale oatmeal. 

“I won’t bother to tell you it’s not quite fair to assume our reactions before you’ve even told us,” Hermione began, and I nodded. “But I’m one of your best friends, Elaine. If...if you truly care for him, and he cares for you, I’m okay with it.”

If only it were that simple. 

Daring a glance at Draco before I spoke, I saw that he had scooted away from Pansy, who looked rather despondent about it. “I really appreciate that, ‘Mione. I just don’t really know if I’m ready. If I say it out loud to someone else, then that means it’s real. And-and I don’t know if it could ever be real, so all this worrying and feeling shitty might just be for nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s for nothing,” Hermione said, which kind of surprised me. “Clearly, you truly feel something for him, or you wouldn’t have been so off this week. And from what you told Cho and I, it seems like he feels the same.” 

“I guess…” I sighed, poking at my food. “I guess I’m...scared.” 

It was harder to admit than I thought; I’d never said it out loud before. I’d never even really said it about anything before, not to my friends. The idea that I could reveal my deepest feelings to Draco and have him laugh in my face, or worse, was weighing on me nearly as much as his absence.

Hermione looked at me sympathetically, but in a way that didn’t make me feel like she was patronizing me. She and Draco, they were good at that.“Elaine, that’s normal. I felt scared when everything started with Ron. In fact, I still do sometimes. Because, you know, if things don’t work out between him and I, I’ll lose one of my closest friends.”

Around a bite of apple, I said, “Right, but you and Ron are practically soul mates. Things are going to work out.”

Hermione laughed lightly. “Sure, maybe we are, but we didn’t know that until we got together. I mean, you remember how much he and I bickered third year. I never would’ve guessed then that he would mean so much more to me. I probably would’ve laughed at you if you told me I was going to fall in love with him.”

Looking pointedly at me, she said, “What I’m trying to say is, you haven’t told this boy how you feel right?”

“Right. Not in a very clear way, anyways. Not that he’s really given me the chance anyways.”

“Okay, so, you need to.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I know it sounds odd, but...just because he has feelings for me doesn’t mean that he wants to be with me. In fact, I think he might actually prefer if he wasn’t with me. Or even around me at all. Sometimes...sometimes, I think that, too.”

“Or, you’re both just stubborn,” Hermione said. I looked at her incredulously, but she just returned the look. “Oh, come off it. You’re one of the most stubborn people I know. Especially if you’re in the wrong or when it comes how you feel.”

At my raised eyebrows, she continued. “Don’t act surprised. Getting you to share how you feel is honestly quite like pulling teeth. You hate expressing your feelings, especially when they’re about you being scared or uncertain.”

“But Elaine,” Hermione said, resting a hand on mine. “You’re entirely allowed to feel scared and uncertain and whatever else you’re feeling currently. Relationships are hard, and...with what you’ve gone through in the past, I understand why you’re feeling the way that you are. You’ll never know if this boy will be different, though. Not if you never try.”

I huffed a short laugh. “Geez, ‘Mione, I feel like I need to pay you for that therapy session.”

Hermione snorted. “I’m just being honest with you. I know you, and I want you to be happy, but I know you tend to get in your own way.”

“Okay, okay.” I took a breath as my eyes darted to Draco once again. He was already looking at me, his face unreadable. We locked eyes for a few seconds before he moved away first to look at Zabini. A blush crept up my face, and though Hermione looked curious as to who had just made me blush, she didn’t look around. 

“I guess...I guess I’ll tell him, then.”

-------

Finding a moment alone with Draco that day proved to be much harder than I thought. I had to admit, I wasn’t trying as hard as I could’ve, but I was so nervous it was practically all that crossed my mind during all my classes. 

I mean, what the hell would I even say in a situation like that? Hey, Draco, I’m in love with you, too, even though you’ve done basically everything you can to stop that? Or, Hey, Draco, you know how you’ve confessed your feelings practically a million times by now and all I’ve done is stand there like an idiot? Well, I finally have enough balls to tell you I love you, too.

And there was another thing. Draco had never said he loved me. I think that had been on purpose; he’d always said he’d fallen in love with me, putting emphasis on the fact that it hadn’t been his choice. 

It hadn’t been mine, either. Why would I choose to fall for someone who hurt me so much and with so little remorse? Why would the one person who makes my life hell be the one person I can’t live without?

I had no answer, but it was true, regardless of me trying to fight it. It was clear this wasn’t going to stop, that I was going to continue to fall harder and harder until I inevitably crashed. I had tried to avoid it, but that had failed miserably. The only way, it seemed, was through. 

Potions was fucking unbearable. More than usual. By the time the class began, I felt so overwhelmed by my thoughts that seeing Draco nearly made me collapse. I silently pleaded for him to do anything to hurt me or piss me off, just so that I could unscramble my thoughts a bit. I needed that bit of normalcy. 

But unfortunately, I never got what I wanted, because Professor Slughorn assigned a solo potion, and Draco was unusually quiet as he worked. Unusually focused and studious. 

Bloody git. He could never just...just help me out, could he?

No, he just stood there, looking like he didn’t have a damn care in the world. Looking like a fucking marble statue, like a work of art. Bastard. Draco couldn’t make this easy, could he? Confessing my feelings already had my nerves fried by that class, but he had the audacity to look perfect as we brewed our potions. Not a single hair out of place, not a single thing about him that I could pick out and turn over in my head until it bothered me enough that I felt calmer. 

Because if he was nice, if he was steady or calm, I really didn’t think I could do it. That might give me false hope. I wasn’t confessing my feelings to further our relationship, or at least I didn’t think I was. I was doing it just to get it out of my head so it didn’t continue to fester the way that it had been for so many weeks. 

If he made me angry, maybe I could continue to fool myself that this didn’t need to happen. 

Potions ended, and I knew that I needed to do it then, so I could catch him alone before he went to his dormitory or to dinner and became surrounded with people. It was already terrifying enough that I was doing this in the first place, but if people witnessed it?

Christ, I might as well just end my life right then and there. 

Quickly clearing out my cauldron and returning my ingredients, I made sure that Draco and I left at the same time. I felt a bit creepy, tailing him like this, but I guessed he probably wanted others not to be around while I did this as well. I doubted he’d be able to stomach the embarrassment if his fellow Slytherins caught wind of me professing my love for their star student. 

Keeping back a ways, I followed his route out of the dungeon. I was a bit shocked that he was heading towards the upper levels of the castle instead of his dormitory, but I continued my course, because I had to do it now, or I truly never would. My heart was thundering in my ears, and I hoped that the students who passed me couldn’t tell that I was on the verge of throwing up because of how nervous I felt. 

Slowly, so slowly, the hallways grew emptier and emptier as we traveled up stairs and through corridors, until it was only us. Draco turned sharply, making me stop in my tracks a few feet away from him. 

“Are you going to tell me why the hell you’re following me, or are you going to just keep stalking me?” Draco asked me. There wasn’t anger in his voice, there was just...nothing. 

I took a breath, trying to steady my thumping heart and shaking hands. “I needed to talk to you, and you’ve been gone for the past week.”

“And you couldn’t have done it in either of the classes we had together today?” 

There it was; there was that bit of fire. “No, actually, I couldn’t,” I said, biting the inside of my lip. “This isn’t something that I figured you would want anyone else to hear.”

Draco’s elegant brow quirked up, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “And just what do you have to tell me that’s so private, Adler?”

It was such a simple action, him calling me by my last name, but it was nearly enough to convince me this whole thing was a mistake. I couldn’t back out now, though, because Draco wouldn’t let me go until I told him, and I didn’t have a lie handy that was believable enough. I couldn’t stop from asking, “So it’s Adler again?” 

What I really meant was, Why isn’t it Elaine?  

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Draco drawled cooly. As if he didn’t already know. 

Fucking git. Always had to fucking make things complicated.

“Because,” I said, stepping forward. And fuck , when his cologne hit my nose, my knees almost buckled. That familiar warm, musky scent that made me think of heated kisses and cold hands and silver eyes. “Because-”

“Because what?” Draco snapped, clearly impatient. 

My fists clenched at my side. “God, can you let me fucking talk? That’s part of the reason I have to fucking do this. You never let me talk.”

Draco looked at me like he was about two seconds away from hexing me, but I persisted. “Because, you fucking asshole, I wanted to tell you that I’m fucking in love with you, okay? You’ve been gone, and I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you and I know you probably don’t give a damn about how I feel, but there it is,” I blurted out, my words jumbling and my tongue feeling like it was made of lead. 

A second passed, then five, then ten, and Draco said absolutely nothing. His face didn’t even change as he looked at me, his icy eyes hard and guarded. 

Finally, he said, “My father called me home for family business.”

“What?” I spluttered. 

“You said I was gone. My father called me home for family business,” Draco repeated, moving closer to me until I could see the dark blue streaks in his silver eyes. 

I could hardly believe my ears. I had nearly worked myself so much I had barely been able to eat that day, and that’s all he had to say? 

“That’s all you have to say?” I asked, disbelief filling my voice. 

Draco’s eyes flickered down, then back up. “And just what do you want me to say, Elaine ? You want me to break down, cry about the fact that you finally told me how you felt? You want me to profess my love all over again, even though I’ve been a damn fool and I’ve done it three fucking times already?” Draco questioned, so close now that it was hard to catch my breath. 

So close that I could…

“What do you want? Hm?” Draco repeated. “Because all this means is that we’re still in deep shit and I still…” He paused, glancing down again. “What do you want from me? You’re a smart girl, Elaine. You know how this is going to turn out.”

Did I? 

“Do I?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, an action that shouldn’t have made me distracted, but did. “Don’t be stupid.”

I let out a short breath, shaking my head. Mostly to myself, I mumbled, “Christ, I worry for a fucking week about you and this is what I get.”

What did I think was going to happen? I knew Draco well enough by now; what, did I think I was special? Did I think I mattered to him?

“What was that?” Draco asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

Clenching my jaw, I shook my head again. “Doesn’t matter.” I shouldn’t have admitted it; I felt so foolish for doing so. 

Quicker than lightning, Draco’s hand shot out to grip my jaw, making me look at him. His hand was cold, making goosebumps spread across my body. “What did you say?” He repeated, with an intensity in his voice that made me drop that wall of stubbornness I had been constructing. 

I glared at him, resisting the urge to cross my arms and cause myself to look utterly childish. “I said, you asshole, that I was worried about you. You were gone for a week and I worried about you. Make fun of me all you fucking want, but I couldn’t help it. I was worried, alright?”

As soon as I finished, Draco’s mouth was crashing down onto mine with a fervor that I’d never seen before. Like he had been...like he had been waiting to kiss me for a while. I could hardly kiss back at first as shock ran through me, but once his lips softened the tiniest bit, I returned his affection with just as much, if not more, passion. 

If I had thought just smelling his cologne affected me so much, kissing him nearly had me collapsing. It felt so good to finally kiss him again after so long. To feel his mouth on mine, his hand on my face, his body so close. 

I couldn’t help it; I reached out, throwing my arms around his neck in an embrace that felt strangely intimate so I could tug him in. His hips collided with mine, our chest brushing together as we both panted through our fiery display of affection. 

Draco moved his hand to cup the side of my face, the other belting around my waist and pressing me to him. Almost every bit of our bodies were touching, and I felt like I was on fire; I felt like I was going to burn up, but in a way that would make me incredibly glad to go. 

A twinge in my chest told me that I’d missed him, missed this more than I could’ve ever possibly guessed. 

I scraped his bottom lip with my teeth as we kissed, making Draco groan quietly in the back of his throat. Fuck, that sound. I’d never heard something so enticing, so enchanting. Dragging my nails up his neck, I carded my hands through his silky, pale hair, reveling in the feeling of the soft strands between my fingers. 

It felt like I couldn’t get close enough, like there wasn’t enough time or space for me to touch him enough that it would satiate the growing fire sparking in my stomach, in between my hips. It didn’t feel like enough . My brain was screaming for more; I was practically aching for it. 

Draco angled my body so that he could back me up into the wall, caging me in with his tall frame, still not letting go of my face. His other arm retracted from my waist and his hand spread across my side, a hot, massive presence againt my shivering form. Draco’s thumb slipped under the hem of my shirt, caressing my bare hip with a touch that was so light, but still so possessive. 

I loved tugging his hair, I loved the low sounds it caused Draco to emit, but I couldn’t resist the hard, smooth surface of his chest and abdomen. One hand slipped from his hair, trailing down his shoulder and came to rest on his pectoral, feeling the muscle shift beneath his white school shirt that alwasy hugged his shoulders and torso so mouth-wateringly tight. Absent-mindly, I lightly scratched my short nails down his chest, and his hand on my side clamped down roughly as he groaned at the gentle pain. 

Involuntarily, as Draco swiped his tongue across my lower lip, my hips canted into his. He pulled back as I did, and I was worried that somehow I’d accidentally crossed some invisible line he’d drawn and hadn’t told me about. 

“Elaine,” Draco started, and I felt heat course through me at the sound of my name on his lips. “Elaine, you said, in Snape’s office, you said-”

It was cute, seeing him almost flustered as I realized what he was saying. What he was asking. I barely even thought about my answer before I spoke. 

“I know what I said. I don’t think I still feel that way,” I told him, my hands still twisted in his hair, his arm still slung around my waist. 

The hungry want that ignited in his eyes was enough to have arousal pool between my thighs. “Then...?” Draco trailed off, waiting for me to complete his thought. 

I bit my lip and nodded. “Yes, um, I think so. I think I want-”

And once more, Draco swallowed my words with his mouth, his arms pulling me in so tightly I had difficulty breathing as I pressed against his warm body. After a few moments, Draco ended the kiss. 

“My dorm is closest,” he told me, making my heartbeat skyrocket as I realized I was actually going to do what I was implying. 

I was about to have sex for the first time. With Draco Malfoy. I’d done things with Harry, with other boys, but...but I had never wanted it like I did right then. It had never felt like I was burning for it, like I needed it like a dehydrated man needed water. 

I needed all of Draco. I wanted to feel every bit of his bare skin, I wanted to see the beautiful planes of his chest, the sharp edges of his hip bones. 

And god, I wanted to see lower than that. 

When did that thought stop being disgusting, and start being the most appealing thing in the world? 

I nodded, and Draco stepped back, leading the way back to his private Prefect dorm. My hands were shaking and my breath was short, tense, like I was walking to the gallows instead of Draco’s room. I figured that in a way, I was. If I did this, if I gave him this, and things ended terribly like they most likely would, would I regret it?

The only answer I could think of was a resounding no .