FAILSAFE

Chapter Five

Once the Headmistress took Draco's account of what happened, he walked back to the dungeons. The sound of his shoes tapping against the stone floor resonated in the stillness of the empty halls. The dark corridors seemed to watch him as he passed. Draco didn't have time to talk to Ginny before they were separated. However, as Potter escorted her out of the room, he caught a glimpse of her. The sight of her safe, albeit a bit shaken, helped ease the tension in his chest that had been intensifying since that morning. His temporary relief dissipated into icy dread as he stepped closer to the Slytherin common room, the darkness of the hallways loomed over him as the chill of the night air seeped into his tired bones. The hair on his neck stood on end as he peered into the blackness. Hearing a faint shuffling and whispers, the shadows seemed to move. He halted himself mid-step, turning away from the hall and instead towards his destination. Quickening his pace, he hurried into their quarters and away from any heroics the night may offer. Whatever it was, it was not his problem. When Draco entered his dorm, he was grateful that it was empty, and the exhaustion of the day lulled him into his first dreamless sleep. Yet, just like clockwork, the sounds of his brother's nightmares woke him. Draco rose without irritation, swiftly leaving their shared dorm.

Upon entering the common room, he sensed her presence-just as he did every night. Draco's routine was always the same: he'd walk in, open the book, and stare at the pages until he felt he'd waited long enough to turn it. He was relieved that Granger hadn't asked him about the book he stole, since he did not know what it was about.

As he approached, he took a moment to observe her. She was in her usual seat; her gaze drawn to the matching settee that was placed near the fire, almost as if she was beckoning for someone to take it so she was no longer alone. During the day, the Golden Girl radiated an irresistible warmth, and it drew everyone to her like a moth to a flame. His throne was now unrecognisable, encircled by other seating, the velvet cushions and silver trimmings unfamiliar, all traces of him replaced by Granger. It was surreal to see how her presence had changed the space. Every time his gaze drifted to her during meals the room held a distinctive feeling of liveliness, and electricity, like it was giving recognition to her rightful place in the centre. He silently wished this would never end as he watched her animated conversation with the others. When she was passionate about something, it was like she glowed from within. How could she talk for hours and never lose that sparkle? Her enchanting voice was like a siren's song, captivating him and anyone else in her presence.

But here, alone in the same seat, her face was blank, and her body seemed drained-her spark extinguished.

His stomach sank, uneasiness filling him as he finally made himself known.

"How is she?"

He was reluctant to break the comfortable silence that he and Granger usually shared as he sat down on the settee closest to her, but he knew he couldn't wait until morning to talk to Weasley herself. Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to swallow the fear that Ginevra wouldn't even give him the time of day after his unkind words. She didn't owe him anything, and it would disgust his father to know that he helped her, expecting nothing in return. Lucius believed good deeds were only virtuous if both parties involved gained something from it. But, the moment Draco looked at her terror-stricken face as the water rose, he didn't care.

"I wasn't sure I would see you tonight." A warmth filled her expression as she looked at him. "She was looking for you earlier. Blaise or Theo didn't want to disturb you when they found you sleeping. She waited for a while, but Harry finally got her to lie down. She won't talk about it; she only said she wanted to talk to you."

Shame settled in his chest like a heavy weight as he pictured her waiting for him. "Next time, have them wake me," he whispered. Draco breathed in the smoky aroma of the fire, eyes lingering on the dancing flames before shifting his gaze to her. Her book lay open on her lap, and her curls cascaded down her shoulder as she tilted her head, eyes intently observing him.