NATALIA [Draco Malfoy Fanfiction]

Eight | House Fidelities

"We'll help you study to be the baddest witch there is," Gemma had assured me in Charms, "doesn't mean we're going to watch you kill yourself in the process."

"Why does everyone think I was going to kill myself?"

"Cause, you stopped eating and basically walked around like a very disturbed and possibly haunted monk?"

"Zombie monk?"

"Precisely."

"Gross," I grimaced, "still doesn't mean I was about to off myself, though."

Gemma sighed, "we're about to enter a war, Nat, people do fucked up things when shit gets dark, and you... you just seem sad."

"Aren't we all?"

She gave me a sad smile. "Oh Nat, that's just fucking depressing."

For some reason, it made us both laugh.

**^**

Malfoy eventually listened to Blaze, and one afternoon we had come back from our classes to find the three boys drunk out of their minds in the common room. They hadn't noticed us at first—to our great delight—Pansy covering her mouth as she watched Malfoy dance mindlessly with the bottle of liquor in his hands, Theo jumping from sofa to sofa with his tie around his head.

"Holy gods," Blair gasped as she watched her brother run into a side table, knocking a lamp off of it before he can recover.

It smashed, all of the boys turning towards the noise and the culprit. "Oops," Blaze had gone, before letting out a high giggle that he couldn't seem to contain. Then, they're all laughing, like, doubled over, unable to stop themselves, laughing. Even Malfoy, who, for a moment, looked like he had become young again as all the hate and pain seemed to evaporate from his features, leaving him with a boyish grin as he clutched his stomach in pain. 

I couldn't help but notice it, the way Malfoy had almost giggled like he was eleven again, and Granger's hair had just gotten caught in the door.

"You're a fuckin idiot, Zabini," Malfoy told him, while the others had finally noticed us watching them.

When Malfoy had finally turned, the juvenile happiness seemed to leave his eyes, with a sort of sadness returning. But, as I held back and the others went to join in, I swear he looked right at me and smiled drunkenly; a sad smile that lingered on his lips, one that I returned before I could help it.

I always pictured him to be cold to the touch, yet in that moment a warmth had spread to my fingertips; a flutter in my heart.

**^**

It was properly autumn now, no hints of summer left in the air as the leaves had started to fall.

After the boys drunken event, Malfoy started to tag along more, but unlike before, or even previous years, he no longer snapped at me for simply existing. He no longer even looked at me at all. I figured they must've said something, possibly along the lines of: you had 2 years to get used to it, we're tired of hearing you complain. Still, sometimes I found him unable to help himself, our eyes locking when he was having a particularly off day and he'd scowl, muttering something under his breath.

Plus, our sessions in the library, where he'd openly express the fact that nothing had changed with great insistence on the matter.

"The fact that Dumbledore actually thought you'd be a good teacher is beyond me."

"I've made it quite clear that I have no intentions to teach you, as your failing is completely up to you."

"I liked it better when you didn't talk."