mahogany ; d.m

46 - deceived

It was not difficult for her to fall asleep.

***

Knock.

Athena shot up in her bed, disoriented out of sleep and confused. The loud thud had frightened her awake.

She rubbed at her eyes and peered over at Hermione's bed. She had not returned.

Knock. Knock.

She straightened up further, stepping onto the hard floor. She figured it was Hermione returning from Hagrid's. Though, she couldn't understand why she would be knocking and not just entering.

She glanced at the clock on the wall as she dragged herself to the door. She had only been asleep for an hour. It felt like a longer amount of time had passed.

Knock.

The thud was sloppy and a hand dragged against the door.

Her heart stilled.

Her hand instinctively twisted the doorknob and her eyes settled on the figure stood before her.

Draco.

His hair was dishevelled, blonde wisps fleeting out all over the place and the area surrounding his eyes were dark. The grey of his irises completely blank.

He was leaning one arm onto the doorframe, as if he was trying to hold himself up. His expression was unfocused, drunken.

She stared at him, eyes wide.

His expression altered as he looked up at her and straightened, taking his arm off of the door frame. His face was solemn. He clenched his jaw and his eyes would not meet hers.

Neither said anything.

She studied his expression intently, trying desperately to see through the cold and reserved. If only he shed his mask.

He edged closer towards the door, his eyes still glassy, as if he was looking into nothing. As if he couldn't see.

He loomed over her and the silver in his irises flickered. His eyes scanned her, identifying every place of her body and every inch of her face, except her eyes.

She gazed deeply into his eyes, trying to make him see her. And she succeeded. His pupils dilated and his expression flashed.

Grief, pain, despair: all breaking through.

His body collided with hers as he threw his arms around her, embracing her desperately. His hands held onto her waist and his head was slung over her shoulder. She reciprocated, enclosing her arms around his torso.

He began shuddering against her, sobs ripping through his chest, and into her shoulder.

She felt emotionless. Drained.

He was too heavy for her to support standing. She stumbled backwards, his weight pushing her, and collapsed on top of her bed. He fell with her, his grip on her body moving down to her hips as he buried his head into her collarbone.

She lay still, allowing herself to pillow him as he wept onto her. She could feel his tears dripping onto her skin.

She brought one of her hands to the nape of his neck, caressing the skin comfortingly. She then nestled her fingers through his hair and stroked him gently, craning her neck over his head and resting her cheek upon his hair.

His sorrow lasted for a while. She lay still, doing nothing but lightly caressing his hair with a few of her fingers.

When he stopped crying, his body continued to tremor every now and then against hers. Neither of them moved. She was growing numb under the heavy compress of his body.