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slipping_away16 April 1997
Draco set the journal down, hands shaking. He didn't want to talk to Vince, didn't want to talk to these strangers who had the faces of his friends, but he felt that he owed them this much, at least, and if Vince wanted him to say it to his face, he had the right to ask. He carefully rose from the nook he'd crammed himself into and went back down to the Slytherin dungeons, wondering if Vince was going to be there or in the library again.
He found Vince in the common room, and cleared his throat softly, unreasonably nervous. "May we talk?"
Vince finished his chapter—he was almost ready to take his OWL's, and that excited him—and nodded, standing and heading toward the dorm. Theo was out doing who knows what, and they could always chase Blaise out if he happened to be there. Fortunately, the dorm was empty, and Vince turned to look at Draco as Draco shut the door. "So."
Draco took a deep breath. "You know, don't you?"
"I know a lot of things now," Vince said. "But I assume you're talking about Obliviating me and Greg? Because that would be yes." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what you're doing, but it bothers me that you thought you couldn't trust us. We've been friends since we were six."
"You heard what Greg said!" Draco scowled and took a step forward. "How can I trust you, knowing that you're—that you're—"
"Suddenly able to think for myself?" Vince shook his head. "Or just smart enough to know now that you're only ever thinking about yourself?"
Draco stared at Vince, drawing himself as tall as he could. Vince still towered over him. "I didn't come here to fight."
"What did you come here for?" Vince asked. "After months of pretending that I practically wasn't even here?"
"I came to say that I'm sorry I Obliviated you!" Draco said, defiant, his face tilted up in determination.
"Congratulations," Vince said dryly. "Did you want a treat?"
The door opened and Greg came in. "A treat sounds lovely, Vince. What's the occasion?"
"Draco's trying to apologise," Vince said. "I thought that maybe he was expecting a pumpkin pastie for the effort."
"I don't know how to talk to you at all!" Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Greg looked at them for a moment, and said, "This isn't going like I thought it would. How did an apology turn into a fight?"
"Vince is a berk who isn't taking anything I say seriously." Draco complained.
"He just can't handle that his pet's learned to bite back," Vince said with a dismissive shrug.
"Hm." Greg crossed over to Vince's bed and sat. "And why are you biting?"
Vince stared at Greg, and then at Draco. "Because he thinks an apology is enough."
Greg looked at Draco, too. "Is an apology enough?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms. "I don't know." He scowled. "I told you before, I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what to do. I just—" He turned his scowl to his shoes. "I just want my friends."
"Did you ask Vince what he wants?"
"I haven't even gotten that far!" Draco exclaimed. "He's barely let me get the apology out!" He glared at Vince again for good measure.
Vince smirked and shook his head. "You know what? You're not even worth it. Sod off."
Draco opened his mouth and then closed it, skin flushed and prickling with humiliation. "I don't need you anyway!" he shouted, and went for the door, slamming it behind him as he left.
"Well, that went well," Greg said. He stood and went over to his own bed.
"I thought so," Vince said dryly, going to his bed now that Greg wasn't sitting on it.
"You're not going to give him a chance, then?"
"It's been months, Greg. Months since we grew brains, and this is the first time he even tries to say something half decent? No. I'm finished with him." Vince picked up one of the books on his nightstand and thumbed through the pages.
"You're as merciful as you are handsome, Vince."
Vince glowered. "I'm not above humiliating you by telling Susan how long you've worshipped her, you know."
"It's hardly worship. Mild idolatry, maybe."
"I'll write her bad poetry and say it's from you."
"Write it to Millie and say it's from Louis. Much funnier."
"I bet I can talk Louis into actually writing it to her. That would be funny."
"Have I distracted you from your threat yet, or should I keep going?"
"You've distracted me. I'm too tired to threaten seriously."
"Oh, good."
Draco set the journal down, hands shaking. He didn't want to talk to Vince, didn't want to talk to these strangers who had the faces of his friends, but he felt that he owed them this much, at least, and if Vince wanted him to say it to his face, he had the right to ask. He carefully rose from the nook he'd crammed himself into and went back down to the Slytherin dungeons, wondering if Vince was going to be there or in the library again.
He found Vince in the common room, and cleared his throat softly, unreasonably nervous. "May we talk?"
Vince finished his chapter—he was almost ready to take his OWL's, and that excited him—and nodded, standing and heading toward the dorm. Theo was out doing who knows what, and they could always chase Blaise out if he happened to be there. Fortunately, the dorm was empty, and Vince turned to look at Draco as Draco shut the door. "So."
Draco took a deep breath. "You know, don't you?"
"I know a lot of things now," Vince said. "But I assume you're talking about Obliviating me and Greg? Because that would be yes." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what you're doing, but it bothers me that you thought you couldn't trust us. We've been friends since we were six."
"You heard what Greg said!" Draco scowled and took a step forward. "How can I trust you, knowing that you're—that you're—"
"Suddenly able to think for myself?" Vince shook his head. "Or just smart enough to know now that you're only ever thinking about yourself?"
Draco stared at Vince, drawing himself as tall as he could. Vince still towered over him. "I didn't come here to fight."
"What did you come here for?" Vince asked. "After months of pretending that I practically wasn't even here?"
"I came to say that I'm sorry I Obliviated you!" Draco said, defiant, his face tilted up in determination.
"Congratulations," Vince said dryly. "Did you want a treat?"
The door opened and Greg came in. "A treat sounds lovely, Vince. What's the occasion?"
"Draco's trying to apologise," Vince said. "I thought that maybe he was expecting a pumpkin pastie for the effort."
"I don't know how to talk to you at all!" Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Greg looked at them for a moment, and said, "This isn't going like I thought it would. How did an apology turn into a fight?"
"Vince is a berk who isn't taking anything I say seriously." Draco complained.
"He just can't handle that his pet's learned to bite back," Vince said with a dismissive shrug.
"Hm." Greg crossed over to Vince's bed and sat. "And why are you biting?"
Vince stared at Greg, and then at Draco. "Because he thinks an apology is enough."
Greg looked at Draco, too. "Is an apology enough?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms. "I don't know." He scowled. "I told you before, I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what to do. I just—" He turned his scowl to his shoes. "I just want my friends."
"Did you ask Vince what he wants?"
"I haven't even gotten that far!" Draco exclaimed. "He's barely let me get the apology out!" He glared at Vince again for good measure.
Vince smirked and shook his head. "You know what? You're not even worth it. Sod off."
Draco opened his mouth and then closed it, skin flushed and prickling with humiliation. "I don't need you anyway!" he shouted, and went for the door, slamming it behind him as he left.
"Well, that went well," Greg said. He stood and went over to his own bed.
"I thought so," Vince said dryly, going to his bed now that Greg wasn't sitting on it.
"You're not going to give him a chance, then?"
"It's been months, Greg. Months since we grew brains, and this is the first time he even tries to say something half decent? No. I'm finished with him." Vince picked up one of the books on his nightstand and thumbed through the pages.
"You're as merciful as you are handsome, Vince."
Vince glowered. "I'm not above humiliating you by telling Susan how long you've worshipped her, you know."
"It's hardly worship. Mild idolatry, maybe."
"I'll write her bad poetry and say it's from you."
"Write it to Millie and say it's from Louis. Much funnier."
"I bet I can talk Louis into actually writing it to her. That would be funny."
"Have I distracted you from your threat yet, or should I keep going?"
"You've distracted me. I'm too tired to threaten seriously."
"Oh, good."