𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | Draco Malfoy

𝐓 𝐖 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 𝐘 𝐅 𝐈 𝐕 𝐄

I couldn't feel my hand anymore. I also didn't want to drop the beautiful rose.

Something moving in the field of roses caught my attention. A hissing sound was moving towards my direction.

I squatted on the ground to have a closer look.

Slowly, from the sea of red, slithered an emerald green snake—its scales like that of a mirror. In it's mouth was a rose.

Another beautiful rose I would've decided on picking if I had seen it first. The petals were a perfect shape, no crease at all. Leaves were spread evenly across the stem, the smooth, hydrated stem.
It didn't have any thorns. The stem was as smooth as a bamboo trunk.

The snake found its way to me, rising from the ground to right below my face.

I wanted to take the rose. It looked like it was meant to be mine—why else would the snake hold it up right before me?

I raised my right hand to grab the rose. Instead of releasing it to me, the snake crawled up my hand, moving smoothly across my skin. It made its way to my upper arm, the leaves of the rose it carried brushing against me.

I had the urge to shrug it off, but I was afraid it would run away with the pretty rose. I still wanted it.

I wanted it so badly, I had forgotten about the one on my left.

But when I turned my head to glance at the other rose, it had already wilted. Its petals had dried, the thorns darkening against my bleeding skin. Even if it was dead, it still kept on hurting my hand—somehow worse than it did before.

I didn't want to let go of it; I couldn't.

Yet, I continued to yearn for the rose on my right.

But to get it, I must let go of the decaying one that's impaled to my hand.

"Hey,"

A calm voice replaced the loud silence of my dream.

"Clementia?"

Through my half-opened eyes, I could see the wooden interior of the hospital wing. I started to feel the tough mattress under me and the thin hospital blanket that was strangely keeping me warm.

I tilted my head to the side to see who the person beside me was. To my surprise, it wasn't Danielle.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was rough, making it sound like I didn't want the person here. To be frank, his presence wasn't a delight—but not a menace either.

"I went to visit after class ended." A brunette boy stood from his seat, looking at me as if searching to see any sign of harm.

"Danielle went to tell their Quidditch captain she won't be able to make it today."

His clear accent and soft tone was a breath of fresh air from this school full of students that talk like they're arguing. I'm guilty of that too, which is why hearing his voice is peculiarly satisfying.

I replied with a small nod. "How long have I been here?"

He pursed his lips. "About a day."