Tears of Solitude (Open)

[Verity Valentine]

There was something quite thrilling about sneaking out of the common rooms in the dead of night and it wouldn't be the first time she had done so- although since the start of the new school year she hadn't really done so much of it compared to the last few years. She supposed the thought of getting away with it was the main reason she even disobeyed the rules but if she were really, truly honest with herself it was because it was the perfect time to sit and look up at the stars and since there wasn't a cloud in the sky there was nothing standing in the way of her viewing...except maybe a couple of Prefects but she wasn't too bothered about them. She could be pretty invisible when she needed to be and for the most part people never really seemed to pay attention to her, which was perfect when you didn't want to be seen.

Wrapping her thick black shawl about her shoulders she shivered slightly as she stepped lightly onto the stone floor of the hallway, wincing as her footsteps seemed to boom in the silence, but as no one seemed to come running at it she deemed it pretty safe to carry on and within minutes was making her way up the staircase, making sure to keep into the shadows as much as physically possible and as she had made this journey more times than she could count didn't even bother using her wand to light the way- besides, the wand would be a total give away and discretion was the key to the whole escapade. Peering down another hall she brushed stray curls as they fell into her eyes and wrinkled her nose slightly, wishing that she had thought to tie her hair up before leaving her common room but as her common sense tended to desert her at the strangest of times she just had to deal with it.

Ah. There was the door. She had very nearly walked past it so involved with her thoughts as she was.

Pan pushed it open and marveled at the fact that it was unlocked again. Surely the Professors knew that the students snuck up to the platform whenever they had the chance? Maybe they had just given up with locking it? Afterall, most students worth their salt could perform the Alohomora charm and even if they couldn't do it themselves they could just bully another into doing it for them. She was pretty sure that many of the people who came up here were couples so there was a good chance one of them would be able to do it. She snorted. Couples. Love. Romance. Her heart panged slightly at the mere thought of it. Love was for those who could afford it...those who didn't need to worry about what was happening around them. The last person she had ever loved had been killed before her eyes. She blinked the tears away, refusing to let them fall as she didn't know if there was anyone else about and like any of her house her pride kept her from showing such weakness.

She was opening the door to the platform at this time and the wind that suddenly came through caused her to shiver violently and she wished not for the first time that she had thought to wear something a little warmer as the shawl simply wasn't enough. Pan didn't mind the cold too much although the black floor length sleeping gown she wore to bed would never be enough to keep her warm and the dainty black silk pumps she wore on her feet allowed the cold to seep through the soles of her feet at the same time as her body was assaulted by the wind, causing her loose hair to blow about her head as she moved to the centre of the platform.

"Bloody hell," She murmured to herself as she wrapped herself up even tighter before making for a bench that had at one point or other been put up- for students during class perhaps? Once there she sat down for a moment or two before shifting so she could lay flat on it, so she was now staring up into the night sky and a small, if slightly sad smile settled onto her pink lips. Ignoring the wind that seemed to have picked up since laying down and the fact that strands of her hair whipped about her face she couldn't help but feel at peace. It was a rare feeling and she revelled in it.

Peace. Her eyes closed as she allowed the memories of the summer to come forward. The memory of her mother telling her that she would be given away before the years end...the memory of her aunt taunting her and being threatened with the Mark of the evil lord. The shudder that passed through her this time had nothing to do with being cold and her eyes opened as fast as they had closed. The Dark Mark. The mere thought of her skin being tainted and poisoned in such a way was enough to make the tears she had blinked away earlier come back in full force. "Papa..." The single tear that rolled down her cheek was all that betrayed her anguish at losing the one person who had kept her safe from her mothers plans. Who would look after her now? She had friends (just) but none were brave enough to take her in and shelter her and there was no other family to fall back on.

She was alone and she had to live with that. Didn't mean she had to like it.

[DRACO MALFOY]

Draco's idea had came to him long ago. As soon as the mission to kill Dumbledore was assigned to him, his clever mind immediately began to sort the possibilities of different ways to accomplish it. He was told that the Deatheaters would figure out some way to get inside Hogwarts to give the youngest Malfoy a way to escape after the murder, but when Draco remembered the Vanishing Cabinets late one night when he couldn't sleep as usual, everything seemed to come together. He had his mother bring him to Borgin and Burkes, and sure enough the other Cabinet was there. He knew the other one was broken, but Malfoy was a determined young man, he was confident he could fix it. Then once he did, it'd be easy to take the old man down once Draco had the Deatheaters behind him... but they weren't 'the Deatheaters' anymore, he corrected himself. No, it was too late for that. Now they were the other Deatheaters, because Draco had already joined their ranks and was one of them.

At first, the Cabinet idea seemed to be going well. He found both of them, figured out generally what had to be done to fix the broken one, and thought of a way to get time alone to fulfill his plan. It seemed easy, and he didn't mind bragging to fellow Slytherins whenever he could about his special task, and for some time, it seemed like it really was a favor, or some kind of special treatment from the Dark Lord. He was allowing Draco, someone who was still in Hogwarts and much younger then his other followers, to do something many other strong Deatheaters had failed to do. However, it didn't take long into the school year for him to realize it wasn't a favor, or some kind of praise. If anything, it was a punishment. A punishment for what Lucius did, failing to get the prophecy from Potter last year. Draco realized that he failed this mission, as the Dark Lord intended, he and his family would probably be killed. Malfoy's mission went from being something to brag about, to a nightmare that he worried about constantly. Truthfully, the blonde boy was a wreck. Whenever he got in a tight spot fixing the cabinet, or someone asked a question or gave him a strange look, he felt his nerves kicking in. His blood would boil with fear, and it would be all he could do not to stand and run off to the room or requirement to check to make sure the Cabinet was still there, and then he would continue working. Sometimes the feverish feeling got the best of him, and he would miss classes and meals to go over the plan and work on that secret room with all the lost things. His grades and health were dropping, but it didn't matter anymore to him. The Slytherin was focused on surviving, no matter what the cost.

Today was one of those days, when he was in such a worried state over everything he skipped potions and then dinner, and stayed out of sight for even many more hours afterwards, before finally emerging from the room of requirement late in the night, tucking his wand into his robes before continuing down the hall. And though his mind told him to go back to the common room and go to bed as to escape the living nightmare to the ones in his sleep, his feet did not obey. They led him down the empty corridors, taking turns and stairwells often left deserted even in the busiest times of day. Eventually, he realized where he was going, and that only increased his speed, his legs taking long strides as he brushed his fingers through groomed back hair.

As he began to climb the winding staircases, Draco focused on where he was going, and tried to erase everything else from his mind. The tactic didn't work particularly well, as thoughts of Voldemort and how he should still be working entered his head, but still he kept climbing. The astronomy tower often only held couples once the sun set, and this late even they should be gone, either back to bed or in some more secluded corner of the castle to do whatever they pleased to do in private until the sun rose. So as he pushed open the door, which was unlocked as per usual, Draco didn't even bother to be quiet, figuring he would be alone. So he gave a sigh and leaned against the wall, staring out at the stars before him. It was then when he heard the muttered words and saw a moving figure laying on a bench, staring up into the sky. Dull rage filled his sleep-deprived body, and he pushed of his piece of wall, intending to escape the place before he was caught in a moment of weakness, his defeated look and dark circles clearly emanating that. Weakness.

He heard another muttering, but this one resembled more of a whimper then anything else, and he realized with a start that it was girl, crying. Draco took this moment to try to retreat, but in his rush knocked his arm of the door, wincing as it hit painfully close to where the Dark Mark had been recently seared into his skin, scarring it forever. He cursed under his breath, knowing the noise he had made already alerted the girl of his presence. He just hoped she would continue crying or whatever the hell she was doing and leave him be. The Slytherin just stared at her figure, silver eyes willing her to ignore him.

[Verity Valentine]

It hadn't taken very long for Verity to stop the tears from falling. Tears were a weakness she simply couldn't afford to have and even allowing the one had probably been enough to ruin any reputation she had left. Many people found her cold and distant and to some extent this was more than true, afterall, how could she allow herself to get close to anyone? People were never what they seemed and that was especially so for those in Slytherin. Friends were useless and one only had them to get along in life- at least, that was what mother said and as she didn't dare contradict anything her mother said she believed it for the most part. It wasn't like she had ever seen real proof that the statement was wrong. Hell, even the 'Golden Trio' wasn't perfect. Hadn't that Weasley creature fallen out with Potter over the silliest of things? If she remembered correctly he had even had the nerve to call Potter a lier! Friends indeed. Nonsense. She was inclined to believe her mother on this one.

Swiping at the wetness that lay on her cold cheek she frowned at the salty liquid on the tips of her fingers before wiping them dry, erasing any evidence of the moment she had taken to mourn her father. At least, she had assumed she had erased the evidence, not knowing that someone else had just come up to the platform and not hearing them silently cursed herself for being so weak minded. How could she cry? Had she not learnt that tears solved nothing? Sighing softly she focused her attentions back to the sky she had been staring at and automatically began to look for the constellations they had been taught in the classes held in this very place. Of course she would never be able to see them as clearly as the Centaurs or with a telescope but she didn't care too much about that. The beauty of it all was enough to calm her.

She had been so caught up in the bright lights blazing in the black sky that a sudden noise from somewhere to her left caused her to jerk back into reality- a fact she was deeply annoyed about and it was with great anger that she abruptly sat upright and turned her body at the waist so she could glare at the culprit. How dare they come here and destroy the few moments she had managed to get to herself? Were they so blind as to not see that she was busy? Some people had no manners or regard for anyone other than themselves and she had been quite convinced it was a Gryffindor causing trouble that the site of Draco Malfoy staring at her was enough to halt every thought process in her body.

Draco Malfoy.

The so called 'Prince' of Slytherin. Self proclaimed. She found him arrogant but had never called him on it. Verity didn't like calling attention to herself at the best of times and calling Malfoy anything at any time would have been more than enough to cause a sensation. Her gray eyes met his silver ones and not for the first time did her mind betray her as her thoughts strayed momentarily to the fact that he really was quite attractive. If you liked white blonde pompous asses. Which she didn't. Really.

Eventually her brain kick started itself and she was free to think again, and the first thought to run through her head was 'how long had they been staring at one another' and 'my god my hair isn't tied up!'- a fact that had her frantic for a moment or two as it was quite well known that the girl never had her hair down unless she knew the person intimately. And since she knew no person in such a manner, being here, in her nightgown and shawl (and not a jot more) with her hair flying about her in such unruly manners was enough to make her aware that he was the only person to have seen her in such a vulnerable state. The thought sickened her. Oh why had she come here? And why had Malfoy been the one to find her? She found him attractive yes but she knew full well where his family stood in the war they were threatened with and that fact alone was enough to make her dislike him immensely...not that she would ever admit it to his face.

It was as she was thinking about the war and sides and the fact that if her mother knew that her useless daughter was this close to the Malfoy heir she would have hysterics of glee that she realised she was still staring at the boy and it was a very faint blush tinging her cheeks pink that she snapped her gaze from his own, physically turning her head in order to do so. What on earth was she doing? Staring in such a manner! Surely the thought of her mother hadn't been enough to completely rob her of any common sense! Her mother who hated her daughter with such a passion as to wish her away as soon as could be arranged. The mother who would marry her daughter off to a family just like the Malfoys all in order to prove her 'loyalty' to a raving lunatic. How such an act could ever be seen in such a way was beyond the sixteen year old Goth but she had been told over and over again that that was her fate.

She wanted to say something, anything to get rid of the terrible silence between the two of them but she couldn't bring herself to do so. The two of them had never said more than a word to one another in all six of their school years and even those words had been in class where they had had no choice in the matter. Malfoy had his select group of lackeys and Verity did not. Neither of them had anything in common that she was aware of apart from the colour of their house robes that is and they were like night and day- he was light whilst she was dark...He would always be in the centre of things whilst she would linger on the sidelines looking in. No, there was nothing she could ever say that would relieve the mounting tension and she found herself hoping for him to break it.

[DRACO MALFOY]

Draco had been told all his life not to show weakness. From his father, it always came in the form of cold words. Weakness was for Gryffindors and those who bowed to power. Lucius would never allow his son to grow up to be a follower, even though as Draco grew older he realized that was what he was bred to be. A follower of Voldemort. There was no power in that, he'd realized. He would live his life following someone more powerful then him, and if he had to rise to Voldemort's level to overcome his so called weakness, the youngest Malfoy wouldn't. His mother had always told him weakness was something different from his father's idea. Weakness was backing down from a challenge, letting someone else pick your path. But just as his father's words were, his mother's also were ironic. She didn't pick her own path, she didn't fight back. She followed Lucius blindly, and in turn followed Voldemort because even Lucius couldn't see without a master to guide him. Draco was destined for this same path, and he couldn't see anything he could do about it. No matter what he'd always been taught about weakness, and how to avoid it, he was still weak. It never occurred to him that perhaps that was just a part of being human, being real. You had to have weaknesses.

Perhaps that was why Voldemort had risen to such power in the first place. Did he have weakness inside of him? At one point, he must of, but Draco knew nothing of his Lord's past. Very few did, and no one knew the whole story except Voldemort himself. He must have had weakness, but it was long gone now, pushed into some corner of his mind, forgotten in rage and death, drifting along in the corners with other things that had been locked away, like happiness, or love. Not that Draco could really know much about such things, but he was sure he felt more then the Dark Lord did. How could he not?

All Malfoy could feel now was that dull rage, and tiredness. Weakness and pain and worried emotions swirling inside his tall body, fighting to get out. But despite his overly pale skin, darkened eyes and overall defeated appearance, Draco still managed to keep his back straight, and tried to wipe the remains of pain, emotional and physical, from his face. He tried to forget for a moment about his mission, and gently clasped his left forearm, willing that pain to leave as will. He could imagine his dark mark searing through his robes, burning into his hand, although he knew that wasn't possible. He forced the pain away, and after a moment, let his hand drop back to his side.

His back was to the door, and he was about to finally leave as the girl spun to face him, and he realized who she was. Verity, he believed her name was. Another Slytherin in his year, but she was different from most the other girls who fawned over him. She was always on the outskirts of things, unlike Draco himself who was always at the center of attention. He used to enjoy the limelight, while now he avoided it. Surprisingly, Draco found her to actually be a decent being. She never particularly irked him, and she seemed kind of nice when they were forced to exchange an awkward word in class. Considering what house they were in, the fact she wasn't arrogant, self-proclaiming, or praising Draco in that one word proved to him she was actually decent unlike the other 99% of Slytherins, himself included.

She continued to stare at him, as he stared at her, not breaking his gaze as he still struggled to clear his head and facial expression, trying to focus on her, taking in her appearance. Wild locks and thin nightgown blowing slightly in the thin breeze. In another situation, Malfoy might've smirked at his luck. Even if he was in a downright awful mood and she probably didn't want anything to do with him, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows slightly, a bit of his old self coming back to him. She was fairly pretty, after all.

Even if he was a complete git and jerk to every female he laid eyes on, or really any person in general, Draco knew how to be decent to people. He'd twist a girl around his finger, but he'd always say maybe a thing or two that implied he liked her. Of course if she got too attached he could always cut the line and walk away clean, with nothing worse then maybe a bad reputation, which he never particularly minded before. But the point was, Draco did have some manners in him, and he knew that this staring was clearly making her uncomfortable, but she didn't know how to break the silence. That put him in a position of power, but he wasn't in the mood tonight, or really any night these days, to abuse that. So Draco didn't break his gaze, even when she looked away, and allowed those clear eyes of his to stare straight into hers while he finally spoke quietly, "Verity, I believe?"

His words didn't come out exactly unkind, but there was some hint of a degrading tone in his voice. Draco knew the girl's family, what direction she was headed in. She was bound to be a Deatheater at some point in her life, considering her whole family was. Whether it was sooner or later depended on the situation. In Malfoy's case, it had been sooner. Much, much sooner then anyone could have expected, being branded with the Dark Mark just after turning only a measly sixteen. It was recently he had realized how young he really was. He wasn't ready to die, or to commit to something he would be forced to follow until his death, and if he chose to leave, then that would only lead to death as well. The fact was, Deatheaters didn't tend to live long. Not those in the inner circle like Draco's family was. Azkaban, death by the ministry or the order, death by his own Lord, or a life following his master's every wishes because of endless fear. Those were his only choices; Draco saw no way out. He didn't want that life for anyone else, and he knew that if she went that way, she wouldn't ever be able to get out, and that led to the blonde boy to automatically dislike her. She was bound to make bad choices, just as he did. He wouldn't blame himself for such choices, but of course he could blame someone else for following that road as well.

[Verity Valentine]

Any and all feelings of tiredness had long since left Verity although earlier in the night she had been feeling a little run down thanks to a day of classes and trying to escape those who had thought it amusing to hunt down a lone Snake. Of course, she had never gone looking for trouble and despite having run about the castle all day, being here right now was enough to wake her up enough and it was with resignation that she realised she would never get to sleep now- her original plan had been to come up here, mourn a little while and then go to bed but it seemed that wasn't going to happen. And then there was Draco.

She knew more about the Malfoy family in general than the heir himself and for some reason that fact rather bothered her. She knew that he was bound to the same fate as herself (or at least that was what she had assumed from all she had been told) and that his father was in the inner circle her mother so wanted to get in...In fact her Mother had always kept tabs on that particular family but Verity supposed it was only because Morgain was hoping to have an opportunity to prove to the Dark Lord that she was better than any of the so called 'perfectly loyal' family. Verity thought her mother quite mad and had more than enough proof to support her theory. What else could one say about someone who hated the being they created? Morgain had never had any sort of motherly feeling towards her daughter and when Verity saw the love other parents had for their children it hurt. Deeply. The pain was indescribable but add to the mix the fact that her mother had killed her father and the pain was a hundred fold. Even the Malfoys loved their son. In a sick sort of way.

Perhaps there was something wrong with her to have been so cruelly ripped from the one person who had wanted her?

She couldn't dwell on that question for long as she was afraid that the tears would start to fall again and she refused to show such a thing before him of all people. It would have been bad enough in front of a stranger but it seemed worse to show him the weakness she so desperately tried to hide from the world. He who was not to be trusted thanks to that mark she was sure was on his arm by now -having never seen it she was going by what her mother gloated about. She wondered how long it would take before she was also branded with the thing and unconsciously her hand moved to grip at her own arm, fingers twisting into the dark material and although she kept her eyes firmly turned away from him she wasn't stupid enough to think he wouldn't see the movements she made- although whether he would assume she had been marked or not was not for her to think about.

Her thoughts were broken at the way he said her name and this time her eyes did snap back to stare at him. He spoke her name almost like it were dirt. Perhaps in his eyes she was nothing more than that but even so, it was sore hearing the way her name dripped from his lips and had she been more weak willed it might have been far more painful. As it was she blinked at him slowly before she shifted her body so that she was sitting on the bench properly, her hand moving from her arm. Although she had moved she didn't reveal how the way he spoke affected her and like any person in her house was quite good at acting when it was required. Like now.

"Indeed," She finally replied to his question before ever so slightly dipping her head in greeting deciding that just because he was better than her in nearly every way that counted there was no call for her to be completely rude towards the boy. "And you need no introduction." Although she tried her best to keep her tone bland and neutral there was just no way she could hide the contempt in her own voice. He had always thought himself better than anyone else and like the rest of her house had listened to him harp on about how much better he thought of himself compared to everyone else. Although she had noticed he was a little more quiet compared to how he had been...had anyone else noticed it? Maybe it was because she had never been involved in anything that she noticed the small things. She still didn't like him very much no matter what she noticed.

Still looking directly at him she began to get over her initial discomfort of being caught unawares and although she disliked the way he spoke to her she was tough enough not to be broken down by it...besides she had heard worse from her mother so nothing he could say would hurt as much. Verity sighed ever so slightly before shuffling over a little, giving unspoken permission for him to sit down if he so wished. Not that she thought he needed permission of course but there was no way she would have let him had she not been comfortable with it.

[DRACO MALFOY]

How he and his family had fallen. Draco was not the proud, arrogant boy he had been. He was frightened, for his life. For his family's life. He knew what was resting on his shoulders, and he didn't like it. The weight pained him, pushing him down from the throne he had lived on his entire life. He'd always believe he truly was better then others, but everything was so different now. And his family.. his father was in Azkaban, everyone knew Lucius was a Deatheater and their home had to be protected by dark magic as to hide from Ministry. His mother was imprisioned in his own home, as would his father once he was finally rescued, and Voldemort himself resided there, which disgusted him to no end. Draco was ashamed of his family, what his father had done. If it wasn't for him, the Malfoy family would have been honored, if it wasn't for Potter and his stupid friends, Draco wouldn't be the way he was. He'd still be on his throne, and he wouldn't have to worry like he always was now. Worried about his mission, failing, what others thought of him, not letting them see the pain and pressure he was in and only becoming more nervous when they did. Like the girl, tonight. She surely noticed the distressed state the Slytherin boy was in, and even if she didn't, Draco still felt anxiety bubbling in his veins. It was slowly ripping him apart, leaving the shell of his former self in replace.

The way her eyes snapped to his when he spoke, and how she clasped her arm seemed to tell Draco so much. She didn't like the way he had spoken, even though that degrading note had been so little. She didn't understand that he used it because she was going to make the wrong choices. The youngest Malfoy didn't want her to go the same way he did, but he was doubtful she wouldn't. After all, the way she had taken her arm made it appear she too had already been branded... but that couldn't be right. He doubted she had been. His family would have known, Draco considered, and she wouldn't have that tone in her voice if she was a fellow Deatheater, right? Then the thought came to mind that perhaps the reason she touched her arm was because she was afraid of when the mark was going to be there. Could that be it? Was she afraid of being a Deatheater?

She certainly had every right to be. Draco had learned firsthand that there were very few who didn't regret it at some point. Surely all those who went to Azkaban wished they'd never joined the Dark Lord's side. Surely those who failed missions and were punished, tortured and killed. Forced to watch as family members were punished as well, surely they regretted it. Draco already did, and he'd barely even been involved for a few months. His father did, his mother, he could see it in their eyes. All the Malfoy's wanted was to survive. They would do whatever it took to survive, and if that meant committing terrible crimes, so be it. They focused on their own lives, not anyone else's.

It wasn't like Draco didn't realize what people thought of him. He did. Most of the time, it didn't really bother him, as long as they kept their mouths shut. Everyone thought he wanted to be a Deatheater, but he didn't have a choice in the matter; he was branded for life by force. Even if he would have chosen it at the time, there wasn't any option. If Draco refused, he just would have been killed. Still, Malfoy never liked it when someone talked to him with a kind of contempt in their voice. They didn't know him, didn't get him. No one knew what he had to go through, what he was being forced to endure. No one knew how much weight was on his shoulders. So when he heard the exact contempt dripping through her tone, and she implied as if he expected everyone to know who he was, he wasn't exactly happy. He did expect people to know who he was, most of the time, but Draco still believed in some form of respect, and this girl was not giving him it. He frowned slightly, but it was in less of a sneer then usual, and more of just a disappointed look, "I expect you think you know all about me, then." He murmured, more to himself then to her, but still loud enough for both to hear, "But you don't."

When she shifted over on the bench slightly, Draco slowly took two long strides over. It was a nice night, and he'd rather share it then go back to the common room and fight off his nightmares in solitude. So he sat next to her, resting his hands on his knees as he stared out into the night sky, contemplating the stars, the light reflecting off his pale skin. It was a fairly cold night, but Draco always wore long sleeves now anyways, even when he was by himself. He didn't like seeing the mark on his arm, and preferred to pretend it wasn't there when he could. He imagined she was quite cold, and once more he noticed she was wearing only a thin nightgown. She certainly hadn't been expecting company, but neither had he. For some reason though, they'd ended up at the same place, and even if the conversation wasn't exactly favorable, he was a little glad he didn't have to spend even more time alone.

[[OOC: I'm sorry, this came out really bad >.< Next will be better.]]

[Verity Valentine]

Draco seemed a little annoyed at her words- or at least she assumed he was annoyed as quite frankly she wasn't a mind reader and she wasn't a hundred percent sure but her words had been laced with contempt and had it been the other way around she would have been annoyed at the lack of respect but what did he expect from her? He didn't have very many nice words to say to anyone and he had never gone out of his way to get to know her (although she was guilty of that same crime) so how could he expect her to be jumping up to respect him? It worked both ways. Even in Slytherin.

At his words, her eyes softened ever so slightly as she took him in again, this time looking a little further than the stare she had been doing when she had first heard him. He seemed a little haggard but then again it was the middle of the night and even without the customary eye liner she wore every day her own eyes had slight black bags beneath them from lack of sleep but his tiredness seemed a little more than not enough sleep and a part of her wanted to know why. Why was he here? Even though she so desperately wanted to be noisy she reigned in her curiosity and instead turned her attentions to her own reasons for not being in bed again.

Plucking her shawl up from where it had blown onto the ground she wrapped it around her shoulders once again and as she did so Draco had suddenly strode forwards to the bench and it was with a slightly surprised look that he had actually sat down- despite the offer she had never thought he would actually do it- and she turned her head slightly to look at him before she tilted it back just as quickly so she could look up at the sky. It was such a calm night and she didn't want to spend it arguing with someone she really didn't know all that well...Although she wasn't sure if she was ready to either. They were two very different people despite the fact their families served the Dark Lord and she wasn't sure if they would ever have anything in common but she eventually decided to answer his softly spoken comments.

"I don't pretend to know you," She told him, her voice barely above a whisper, "I only know you as a person, how you act around the common room and in front of people but I would never presume I know you entirely...just my opinions on what I've seen." She kept her head tilted back so she could avoid having to look at him, knowing that if she did she would lose all her courage at even speaking to him. A loner at heart Verity had never been a big talker and this was probably the most she had spoken to anyone -especially him- since she had come to the school.

"Do you ever get the feeling your just some little pawn? That your life is someones game?" She might have asked the question but she didn't expect an answer. It was something she seemed to ask herself every morning when she got up to go through yet another day and if she was honest she already knew the answer to it. She was just a pawn being moved about to suit the needs of her mother and the thought terrified her more than anything...She knew what was going to happen to her in the near future and although she could only guess about Draco she felt that in the end things could be quite similar between them in the end.

[DRACO MALFOY]

He was so different this year. So much had changed; so much had happened. Even still, if someone forced him to recite everything that had happened over the summer, in detail, he would be able too. The whole thing was firmly planted in his mind, searing down to create a mark that could never be forgotten. A mark, in fact, that was quite alike the one that blackened his left forearm in many ways. Draco would never be able to forget his excitement, how he'd bragged on the train and expected the whole thing to be easy. He'd never forget how he felt when he realized that it was a punishment. Draco Malfoy was supposed to fail, supposed to die when he did. The youngest Malfoy had been so busy celebrating his mission, he hadn't thought it through. He hadn't realized what a severe problem this was. He hadn't even noticed his mother's dread all summer, and when he came back to Hogwarts. Draco had been oblivious to the world, and when he finally woke up, it had been a rude awakening. It hit him suddenly, the realization washing over him like a huge wave, and ever since then he'd been forced to stay above water and try to swim. But as the days went on, he could feel chains slowly being added to his ankles and hands and throat, pulling him under over and over. He was still struggling, but he could only stay afloat so long.

Staring out to the stars, he was going over all this in his head, as well a trying to piece together the things she was saying. She didn't pretend to know him, she said, and he listened as Verity went on, though Draco's silver eyes never left the night sky before him. He took a moment to think, and eventually responded thoughtfully, his voice at the same level as hers, "I imagine you've seen quite a bit of me, then haven't you? I hate to admit I barely even know who you are at all."

And he didn't. Draco was always so into what he was doing, even when he was younger, though in a different way. He'd always found himself to be in the limelight, and was so focused on what he was doing and was so full of himself that he never really noticed anyone else except those who'd literally shoved there way into his attention. Of course, this year he'd been so into his mission and trying to figure out everything, he'd become even more concerned about his own problems. He barely noticed what his so called friends were doing these days, and he'd completely ignored Potter for what seemed like forever. Ever since the train ride, anyways....

But the point was, Draco felt a bit guilty for having to admit how little he paid attention to those around him. When he did, he noticed so much. He was clever and intuitive, and great at reading people. But most of the time he just didn't care enough to even try. And then she said something about a pawn, and Draco nearly froze at her words, stiffening and breaking his gaze from the sky to stare at her with wide eyes. Again, it took him a long time to formulate a response; even longer then the last time because he was so shocked at how perfectly she'd described his life, "My life's far from a game," He started bitterly, "But that's exactly what I am. A pawn."

Why was he telling her this? Why was he opening up so much to a girl he'd barely ever met before? Was it because it was late and he was tired, and inside just dying for human company? Perhaps it was because Draco was sick of staying to himself. He wanted someone to tell him it was okay, that they understood. But that was impossible. Because no one understood what he was going through, because no one else would have to go through it. Draco was becoming something he didn't want to be, and what he was forced to go through and do was unheard of.

[Verity Valentine]

Verity had never considered that Draco would ever feel guilty about his actions (not that she had any idea that he did of course) and her comments had been simple and true. She had always been looking from the outside in and thought herself to be quite observant when she needed to be -one had to if they wanted to survive- and she had always thought to herself that he really didn't care all that much about the people around her but of course she could be wrong and the only way her opinion would change would be getting to know the male beside her. Which was a terrifying thought. If she got to know him it could go either of two ways...the two would either find kindred spirits in one another or they could hate each other. She much preferred the former of the two if she had to choose. Verity would rather get to know him and like him somewhat instead of having someone else hate her.

She stopped the thoughts before they could get much further. There was no way she could be friends with the Malfoy heir! Even if they did bond over something or other there was the fact that their families were completely different. Both were very rich of course (although she couldn't tell you the difference in fortunes...just that hers is smaller) but there was the fact that her mother was a Death Eater psycho who would willingly give her daughter up for the cause whereas from what she herself had noticed about the Malfoys on the few occasions she had seen them together was that there was some form of love there. She wanted that. No. She craved it. She craved the love of her mother but at the same time wanted to run away as fast as she possibly could. They would never be as close as friends if she could help it.

"Its not surprising," She shrugged lightly, giving off an almost indifferent air to herself as if she didn't care, "I don't stand out." Well, her clothes certainly did but other than that she was pretty forgettable and her mother was relying on that fact to get away with pulling her daughter out of school when it came to it. No one would miss the 'goth girl'.

When he agreed with her about feeling like a pawn in things it was her turn to turn her head to stare at him. She had mostly said it to herself although she supposed it had been aimed at him as well but she hadn't really expected that answer of all things. "Me to," She eventually admitted, her head immediately going back to its previous position as she didn't want to be seen staring too much in case he thought it a little weird but even though her head was back she didn't look at the stars; her eyes were trained on his face, watching for his reaction to her words. "Just a worthless pawn." Although she tried to keep her tone neutral she knew that she would never be able to hide the pain those words held.

Worthless. Forgettable. Useless.

Only three of the things she had been called ever since she was old enough to understand words. The words her mother used to describe her although her father had loved her and had called her 'princess'...until he was ripped from her that was. She missed her father. She missed being safe and now she was on limited time. Her freedom would soon be over and then she would belong to the cause and that thought alone put the fear into the words along with the pain and she could never completely hide those emotions, no matter how much she wished she could.

[DRACO MALFOY]

Draco hadn't ever been one for insecurity. His entire life he'd been told that he was better then others, he as a pureblood. He was part of the best family there was and he was to hold up that reputation. He always was told he was the best, and he believed it. He'd taunted, manipulated, teased and bullied pretty much everyone he believed 'lower' then him since he could remember. But Draco had just realized recently of much of a git he really was. He didn't necessarily regret what he had done, but he knew it was wrong nonetheless. Either way, he was a Malfoy. 'Insecurity' didn't apply to him, at least not in that sense. So it didn't often occur to him that others could feel insecurity. He knew they could, and probably did, but that was one emotion he had a hard time spotting. But as she spoke, Draco couldn't help but noticing a change in her tone. That's when he realized with a shock that's what it must've been, insecurity. Then he couldn't help himself to wonder why, why did she feel so... strange to him? It was more then just the fact she was always different from the other girls in Slytherin. There was something about her that made him curious.

"Still," He started, "It's not like I've never noticed you. I just... didn't ever take notice to you, if you understand what I'm trying to say." He drawled, keeping the same indifferent air that she was giving off as well. Of course, that changed when she continued, and he found himself turning to stare at her. Draco could hear her struggle for a blank tone, but the pain seeped through, and he felt like suddenly all of her insecurities were on display for him to see. It was an even stranger feeling then before, the fact she'd opened up to him surprising him more then anything. Eventually he managed to get past his shock, and cleared his face, turning away from her after realizing he'd been staring.

He took longer to piece together his words this time then any other. A worthless pawn. Was that really how she saw herself? And suddenly he found himself wondering why she'd been crying when he first walked in. Sure, Draco hadn't had the greatest life. Now that he thought back on it, despite everything, he realized what he really thought of it all. It seemed like his life started on a high point, but just seemed to get worse and worse as the years went on. Sure, he had his ups and downs like everyone else, but on the grand scale of things, year to year, his life hadn't really improved all that much. In fact, it seemed to be steadily worsening instead, "Not worthless. If a pawn was worthless, no one would bother with making them into a pawn in the first place." He said quietly, not allowing himself to look back at her. Draco just thoughtfully stared at the stars, pondering the girl beside him.

He had to admit, she'd be interesting to get to know. But with everything that he had to do this year... just talking to her now felt like a waste of time, even if otherwise he'd just be facing his nightmares anyways. Of course, this could just end up creating another enemy suspicious of him and his intentions this year; but she was a Slytherin, and didn't really seem like the type to pry. It couldn't hurt, could it? It was just talking. But he should be working, he argued with himself. He shouldn't even be here at all, let alone speaking to her and saying things he knew he shouldn't. But he couldn't help himself. Draco was longing for human company and someone to understand, and if only half of that need was satisfied, he could deal with it.

[Verity Valentine]

Although he spoke of pawns being needed, that they weren't useless to those who used them she found they brought no comfort to her. She could not agree on the words he seemed to speak to give her comfort and indeed they did nothing to reduce the terror she held at her eventual fate. She did not think he could understand; how could he? His life was vastly different from her own and from what she had seen it had been better as well. His family loved him, and although she knew that his father was a Deatheater like her mother she had also seen the very fleeting moments Lucius had bestowed on his heir. Only fleeting mind you and although she could never be sure of his feelings she had convinced herself that what she had seen was the truth and she wanted to stick to that. No, she was desperate. She couldn't bare the idea of anyone being unloved like she was.

She remained silent for many minutes and whilst he stared at the stars her mind was trying to think of excuses to leave. Verity had never been very good with people and as a loner she usually found one reason or other to leave the room or exit the building and had years of experience yet tonight the talent completely eluded her and she wondered why...She had never had a problem before and it was with a slight look to her side that she wondered if perhaps it was Malfoy that kept her where she was. Perhaps like herself he craved the company of someone -anyone- to help fight away the worries of the world, at least for an hour or so. Or maybe she was just dreaming this entire conversation and she was actually asleep on the bench? That seemed quite likely as the reality of having a decent conversation with him was nearly laughable.

Shivering slightly she wished she had brought her wand with her, cursing her lack of foresight that it was going to be so could but then again, she had not expected to be up here for quite so long and had thought only of coming up for a half hour in order to mourn. Draco had thrown her somewhat and now even with her shawl the thin nightgown she wore did nothing to protect her from the winds that seemed to have picked up a little. Unable to draw the material about her any more than it already was she brought her legs up so she could rest her heels on the edge of the bench and then wrapped her arms around her knees. It did nothing to ward off the chill and it was with another shiver that the thought crossed her mind that perhaps the cold was not entirely due to the weather and some of it was maybe from the thought of her future.

"Maybe a pawn is needed to some extent," She finally agreed, her voice soft and a little shaky thanks to the cold. "But a pawn who is used to further a career, or gain wealth is useless. Expendable. Riches can be gained in other ways...careers can be furthered in others. The pawn can be changed and abused like it is nothing at all." She closed her eyes slightly as she thought over her words. Her mother used her as a pawn in order to get into the inner circle, but even so, even if Verity were to be 'lost' Morgain had her sister to bargain with and along with that she could be quite vicious when she needed to be and although Verity did not know much about the workings of the inner circle she did not think the Dark lord would mind having another body to throw in front of himself when it came to it. No. She was quite convinced that she was really a very worthless human being.

Perhaps she should just resign herself to her fate? Her hand moved up her arm again to rub at the spot she knew the Dark Mark would eventually mar her alabaster skin and shuddered, this time not from the cold. The very thought of that thing marring her was repulsive.

Notes:
Sorry its not fantastic...My muse seems to have run away so I'm trying to write my way through my block XD

[DRACO MALFOY]

She was right, he had to admit. Draco was useless. Expendable, as Verity had put it. The thought seemed to slow his mind, causing his thoughts to come sluggishly. That was all he was, wasn't he? Draco had been raised to become a leader, yet the whole time he was being set up for failure. He was nothing more then a pawn. Easy to use, easier to be rid of once the job was over. And in his case, that meant either death or a life serving someone he hated. Either way, he couldn't help but feel his life would be spent being nothing more then a miserable pawn, and if he ever chose to make his own choices it would result in punishment. Sure enough, it would be severe. But Draco didn't want to think about that, didn't want to think that she was right and that someone else would surely complete his task to kill Albus Dumbledore if he failed. But I won't. He couldn't help to argue with himself, even though he was trying so hard to push all of that away. Draco's plan would surely work; he'd already spent so much time and effort and worries on it... it had to work. He didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't.

That was when a sudden burst of anger shot through him like a bolt of lightning. Anger at himself, his father, and Voldemort. Angry about what he was being forced to do and angry that no doubt she'd be forced down this path too, at one point or another. Why did he have to kill Dumbledore? Because his father got caught and was sent to Azkaban, and ruined his mission, and that was because of Harry Potter. Potter wanted Lucius to fail his mission because his parent's were killed by Voldemort, and Draco's father was a Deatheater. Draco's father was a Deatheater because he was a coward, and he was a coward because that's the way he was raised. He raised his son, Draco, to be a coward and thus used as a pawn, and he was used as a pawn because his father was caught and sent to Azkaban... The blonde boy's anger was an arching path, each piece of the puzzle another thing to be infuriated with. Would it have been so difficult for one of the pieces to not fit quite right? Then Draco couldn't help but think his life would be so much easier, so much simpler. Instead, he was doomed to being a pawn. A pawn that was sentenced to death. But he still didn't want to just stay quiet, in silent agreement with her. So he thought carefully of his words, finally glancing at her as he spoke, ". . . ," but his words died in his throat before they could come into the chilly air, and instead he found himself watching her touch the spot on her arm where the dark mark would one day lay.

"You don't want to be one, do you?" The words slipped from his lips despite himself, and the Slytherin boy found himself wondering about her. He didn't think she was a Deatheater, not yet... but she certainly seemed to act like she expected to be one soon enough, if she wasn't already. The question he spoke probably wouldn't make sense to anyone who wasn't forced into that fate, but to her it should. And if the two times she had touched her arm, once most definitely with a shudder to accompany it, were coincidences (which he doubted, but that was beside the point) then she wouldn't get his question, which would be all for the better.

However, the shudder also reminded Draco of something. How cold it was out here in the open air, the wind almost constantly blowing wind against the two. She had shivered more then once, and couldn't be warm wearing such a thin night gown. Draco himself wasn't that cold, considering he was wearing his normal, formal attire that consisted of an expensive jacket and equally nice slacks. He pulled his wand from his pocket slowly, tapping her shoulder silently, before doing the same to himself, the warming charm he'd casted on the both of them for good measure sending warmth though him quickly. He said nothing as he tucked his wand back out of sight, and then turned to face the night again, somewhat anxious for her response.

[[OOC: Don't worry, my muse has been missing for two weeks now. That's why my replies have been so slow and... meh. Hopefully I'll be able to get past it by next post.]]

[Verity Valentine]

Verity wasn't the type of girl to sit around talking about herself to anyone, especially not someone like Malfoy- someone she had never really spoken to before- and doing so now was more than a little weird and highly embarrassing. She had been caught showing a weakness she had never allowed anyone else to witness before. Had she had it in her she might have run away with the knowledge but that would only make things worse and she supposed she could handle his judgments...it couldn't possibly hurt her all the much surely? Besides it would be nice having someone to confide in and although she wasn't sure he would ever keep her words and actions to himself the thought that he hadn't left her alone yet was enough to convince her that he didn't want to be alone tonight either. It was enough for her to stay where she was, even if she hated being seen all Hufflepuffish. She had her pride afterall.

To begin with she hadn't seen him turn to look at her and as far as she could tell he was trying not to answer her...but she didn't mind too much. Her opinions afterall were her own and as she thought herself to be quite useless and not wanted she didn't mind that he had his own thoughts might differ from hers. She supposed many people thought themselves pawns in this life they lived in but she had never really met anyone else who hated that fact like she herself did. Maybe some people thought being a pawn for some time would allow them greater access to power later on? She didn't want power. In fact she shirked away from the very thought...Her greatest wish in this life was to live a life free of fear and pain and power had nothing to do with that. Unfortunately however power ruled over her life and she simply had to bend with it.

His words suddenly cut through her thoughts and she visibly flinched at the statement so casually given. A statement that, had it been to anyone else they wouldn't have had the first idea what it was alluding to but she wasn't stupid and she knew exactly what he meant. Her rubbing at her arms had given her away and yet there didn't seem to be any sort of accusation in his tone of voice and she found only curiosity...Which was weird. She had always believed him to be a little like the rest of his family and even her own mother. Had she told her mother she had no wish to be a part of the Dark Lords army she would have been struck and she simply didn't want to think what anyone else thought about it. Which is why she made no move to answer him, instead choosing to firmly seal her lips as she thought about what she was to say. She did not want him to use it against her and like any devious snake it would be perfectly within reason to exploit the weaknesses of another schoolmate but still, it would be nice to believe he wouldn't do such a thing. She could pretend if nothing else and she could always deny the conversation ever took place- surely he would do the same thing at any rate? Who would ever want to admit to talking to her of all people?

Feeling a soft tap on her shoulder had her looking up and as warmth flooded her body she couldn't help but turn her head to stare slightly wide eyed at him in surprise. Had she been told by any other person that Draco had willingly gone out of his way to stop someone freezing she would have sent them along to Madam Pomphrey with sincere concern for their mental health and even being the one to have this unusually kind act bestowed upon found herself wondering if perhaps she had gone mad. Even though she was now warm she did not move from her position, using her legs as something of a barrier against the world. Moving would mean exposing herself and she wasn't sure she could do that....heating charm or no heating charm.

"Thank you," She kept her voice soft and incredibly sincere, her gratitude speaking volumes in just two simple (and somewhat rare) words. Having cursed herself for not carrying her own wand not even ten minutes ago she was beyond grateful he had done what he had as she had been getting incredibly cold and she had no particular desire to freeze to death. Besides, now she had no excuse but to stay where she was and she was glad she didn't have the option on running away anymore. Well, she still did but she was quite happy staying now. Sort of.

Verity took a deep breath and thought back to the question he had asked her. "You don't want to be one, do you?"

That was quite possibly the understatement of their existence. Verity loathed the very thought of being attached to that mad man in any way and really, being related to her mother was quite bad enough. The woman was completely batty and it was that reason only that Verity was too afraid to do anything other than what she was told..and being told that she would get the Mark was enough to make her behave. Not that it had worked. Her mother was still threatening her with it and it was sheer force of will that Verity hadn't crumbled over the summer. How she had managed to keep her usual stony wall of silence she would never know but what she did know was that the boy next to her had released something of the demons she carried. She trembled slightly as she thought about what would happen -what she believed with her entire being- to her. Slowly she let out a small, bitter laugh and looked away from him, this time turning her head so she was now looking to the other side not daring to accidentally see his reaction to her words.

Would he call her a coward perhaps? A traitor? He was afterall Pureblood and like many of their sort he would perhaps think her a blood traitor for not wanting to be forced into marriage and servitude. She didn't think he could possibly understand.

"'Don't want' is such an easy thing to say," She told him, still refusing to catch his eye, "To become a slave for a mad man..." She shuddered again repulsed by her own words. "To be forced into such a thing. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy and she willingly went to him with open arms. I have no desire to be used in such ways but..." Her voice was but barely a whisper for the last few words. "What choice do I have?"

She swallowed and her next words were only a little stronger. "'Don't want' are two words I haven't the luxury of being able to say."


Notes: Sorry its so bleugh

[DRACO MALFOY]

Draco wasn't an idiot. He knew very well what other people thought of him, and he had already made the conclusion that Verity probably didn't want to talk to him. Truthfully, who would, other then perhaps Pansy. And surprisingly, even she seemed to find him to be more infuriating then usual, although perhaps in a different way. He was always one to make quick conclusions, and he'd already made several about this whole conversation, if it could even be called that. For one, she didn't want to talk to him. That was obvious to him. Secondly, she probably wished he wouldn't have interrupted her solitude, especially while she was acting very... strange, to say the least. And finally, Draco figured that she wished she had never shown such vulnerability because now the likes of Draco Malfoy had stumbled upon it and who knew what he would do with the information. The foolishness of it all made him want to laugh and grimace all at the same time; she didn't understand what the real world was like, surely. She didn't get the fact that House Rivalry and stupid arguments were nothing once you were faced with a situation like Draco's. She didn't know him, as he had said before. Like most, the Slytherin beside him only knew his reputation, and that wasn't really something you could ignore. But Draco was so much more then it, in a strange way.

Nonetheless, he'd still found himself talking to her when he figured it'd be better for the both of them if he just left or ignored her completely. Now he'd seemed to open up a subject that the two Slytherins, it would seem, would rather leave alone. Draco knew he shouldn't have answered her when she made a comment about being a pawn, and certainly shouldn't have asked her a question that could hold so much meaning for someone in a similar position as him. But he did it anyways, and even before she had responded he saw her flinch and he quickly regretted his words. Now matter how innocently he had worded them, they held the same meaning and it was one he should be discussing at all, and certainly not to someone he didn't even know. If he was ignorant enough to let something like that slip around her, who knew what else he could say around others.

Draco turned his head to look back at her as he watched thoughts running through her mind. It was apparent she was thinking, but as to what of, he had no idea. For a moment, he allowed himself to hope she would ignore his question completely, or even better, perhaps she would have no clue what he was talking about. Then he could take the chance to escape from the tower. He could have even left now, if he wanted. Sure, it would've made him look odd, but it also would give a clear message: even if he had let that question slip, being a Deatheater was a matter he did not want to talk about. And certainly not with her.

But the second she uttered thanks, he couldn't help but think she was going to continue. She just had that tone, so sincere and perhaps even a little surprised, though that might of just been his imagination since it was what he expected. And Draco's prediction turned out to be true, because after a few moments a bitter noise that resembled the sound of a laugh escaped her lips, and she looked completely away from him so he couldn't see her face at all. Surely so she couldn't see his, either. Only a few seconds later did she speak, and he listened, a bit shocked even after everything that she was letting such a personal side of herself out to him.

For a moment, he was mildly confused, 'she willingly went to him with open arms?' Draco wondered. Who was she? It sounded as if she were speaking about someone, but he didn't know who and the way she had spoken about the person confused him. But after a moment, he brushed that aside, not able to completely comprehend that part of her words, but the rest he received loud and clear. If the shudder wasn't enough, then ' slave for a mad man' certainly alerted him. She wanted nothing, nothing to do with Voldemort or anyone who supported him- if only she knew Draco had a Dark Mark branded on his left forearm at that moment- and he understood how she felt. The feeling that you had no choice, that you have to do what you have to do. Death or worse could and no doubt would befall you if you chose the wrong path. Draco knew her family was pureblood, and he assumed they worked for Voldemort. If she didn't follow that path, the least punishment she could receive would to be disowned... but as it was for Draco himself, he imagined the punishment for refusing would be much worse. A shudder similar to hers shot up his spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold wind that fighting relentlessly to get through his warming charm, which was currently being quite effective, despite the chills freezing his blood at her final words.

Was it strange that the first person he'd accidentally said something to this year about everything happened to be going through a somewhat similar situation- though he supposed not as extreme? For Draco, it was a kind of surreal moment, and he felt himself mimicking her, completely looking away before he paused to formulate some sort of thought, and then work up a way to respond. He found words escaping his mouth, and while some of them had the sound of being well thought through, others escaped despite himself, "I know how you feel... and I can't imagine why anyone would want that for themselves. Even if they did at the start, I don't get how anyone could ever actually enjoy being one afterwards. Or even stand it, really." He paused for a moment, before continuing in a tone so quiet, he was doubtful she could hear him and believed that was the case, "And you might not feel like you have a choice, but I promise it'd be far worse to go through with it. I wish I never..." He shook his blonde head slightly at himself, angry he had let that last sentence slip, despite how quietly. He tensed slightly, and was ready to stand and make his escape at any reply he expected. Because Draco was expecting the worse.

He wasn't quite sure what that was, but perhaps it included her being disgusted with him, or accusing him of lying to her. Maybe she would tell him she knew he was a Deatheater, and he could already hear the disgusted tone she might use. Though his mind told him that was foolish, and Verity didn't seem like the type of person to cause such a confrontation, that's all he could think of. So he sat, silent and still as he waited, still staring in the opposite direction of her, prepared jump to his feet and make his escape if need be. Draco wasn't taking any more chances. He wasn't sure if it was because he was so tired, or because of the weakness she had shown, but something was letting him let his guard down, and it was time for him to put it back up.

[[OOC: A little better then my last post hopefully]]

[Verity Valentine]

It was now Verity's turn to listen to what he said and she turned her head so she could look at him from the corner of her eyes and she wondered why he was sharing such thoughts with her. Surely he should not be saying such things? He couldn't possibly agree with her! And yet the words 'I know' implied that he did. She was confused. Verity had always assumed he would be quite happy for the Dark Lord to take over... He had always seemed to intolerant of Muggleborns and his family had always been at the front of gossip concerning Dark matters. Obviously she should never have allowed herself to jump to such conclusions...but on the other hand was he saying such things to make her trust him? She frowned slightly, unsure of what to think and believe. She wasn't used to people throwing her preconceptions of them back into her face and she wasn't sure she liked it.

As the last of his words left him however the shock rippled through her body like wild fire. Yes, she had always thought he would follow in his Fathers footsteps but to admit it! 'I wish I never'. Those words were enough for her to very nearly recoil away from him although she forced herself to stay where she was although her legs moved from where they had been perched up on the bench to the floor and it was with great effort that that was all she allowed to show of her shock.

Different emotions ran through her. Shock. Disbelief. Disgust. Mostly disgust. Pity. That last one swept through her unbidden and it was a good thing she had her face slightly turned from his own otherwise she might have been afraid of showing the emotions he had invoked within her with his words. He had admitted it, yes but he had also told her that he didn't enjoy it. She closed her eyes slightly trying to process the information that had been thrust into her life and it was a moment or two before she even attempted to form words as she simply didn't think her brain was connected to her mouth right this second. Everything had changed in a matter of minutes and she wasn't sure how to take it. Did she go back to how she had thought of him before or did she pity him for being thrust into the life she had been threatened with?

She decided that firstly she simply had to process the emotions that raged within her. Shock was simple enough. Although he hadn't exactly said he was a Deatheater she believed only someone with hearing difficulties wouldn't be able to read between the lines in what he had said. Disgust was simple as well. She couldn't believe she was sitting next to a follower of all people! And yet...Verity looked to the side once again, taking in his profile before sighing softly to herself. Although every instinct she owned was telling her to run away right this second she couldn't leave him here alone. Disgust was an easy thing to feel but she wasn't always one to take the easy option out. She would stay for now.

Verity turned her head to look at him again although she didn't look away this time. She didn't have the heart to run away. She didn't fear him although she hated and feared the man he was working for...but that was no excuse. "I'd kill myself before I was forced into it," She replied eventually her tone even so it couldn't possibly be thought of as an insult as she was well aware it probably could be seen as one- she didn't mean it that way at any rate. "I can't imagine...what it would be like." She shivered at the thought of having the mark burned into her skin, the thought of having to do things she simply didn't agree with. She suddenly found herself feeling a new emotion run through her. Respect. She supposed she could respect someone a little for admitting they didn't like the path they had been made to follow. Especially since they were admitting it to a stranger.

Notes: My God I don't know what happened to my muse! I'm so sorry its so bleeding terrible!!