Sorry, I Cat Speak!

Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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It seems, after all, that her internal wish was granted a week before Christmas eve; not in the way she expected, or something that left her feeling delighted, the absolute opposite.

Draconia was at the library when she heard it.

She was studying for her last exams before the winter break when a clamor from the corridor broke her concentration, it echoed around the shelves of books and ancient parchments around Draconia and she frowned then tried in vain to block it out. She slammed her textbook shut and stood. The stool she sat on scratched harshly against the ground and Draconia winced but again the noises were much louder than before. It was baffling when her ears picked up the sound of shouts and loud crying. Someone was yelling and the sound was spreading through the library.

Draconia looked around at the empty tables and stools and wondered who on earth would pick a fight at this hour before dusk; it's late enough that even Professor Pince wouldn't be awake yet. She rubbed at his dry eyes and stood, her curiosity was greater than her desire to commit Advanced Charms spells to memory. She sneaked in after curfew, eager to finish her revisions and studying in the quiet of the night, away from any unwanted interveners or any of Smith's minions.

The scene that greeted her was almost comical; there were angry shouts from Potter and muffled cries from Weaslette's. Potter looked wild; black curls everywhere from his fringe to the length of his neck and shoulders, his cheeks were red in anger and his angular jaw was set firmly, he gritted the words through sneers that looked hurtful .

Potter was standing with his fists clenched in the middle of scattered books and papers, his magic blazing in a way his eyes didn't. They must have casted some privacy spells over them because every time one of them said something the words came out unintelligible but it was a bit late; Draconia already caught up to the acene. She hid behind a shelf and watched, too curious and too shocked, open-mouthed, as the Weaslette raised a tender hand to cup Potter's jaw and he invisibly calmed.

The action had made something coil, hot and boiling, in her gut. Draconia tightened her hand, painfully, around her satchel bag's straps, and for a moment she thought of going back to the safety of her table and textbooks.

Then, miraculously, Potter's eyes found hers. Glassy, wide, emerald green eyes that was framed with long beautiful dark eyelashes blinked at her and Draconia's breath caught in her throat, wondering if she should feel embarrassed that now she was caught eavesdropping on a private conversation even though she couldn't understand anything. She wondered how Potter had even seen her, but then again, one could not accuse Potter of not having perfect Seeker-sharp eyes.

Potter's eyes hardened but he didn't break eye contact when he slapped Weaslette's hand away, as if to prove a point.

He looked away when Weaslette's face crumbled and morphed into an ugly snarl. Suddenly, they burst into fresh words of anger again, a few windows were slammed open in a wave of heat that was Potter's magic and then— the bubble of privacy spells around them burst into words.

"— just like the rest of them! How could you? You make decisions based on your own needs but about mine? I don't want you, I'm sick of you trying to decide what is best for me! It's my bloody life! " Potter's voice startled her enough to flinch. It was raw and his voice was shaking, and his throat worked painfully each time he took a breath.

"I want us to have a family !"

"You already have one! ."

"No! You never understood what a new family means to me, away from all this! , it's like, like—" Weaslette stopped suddenly, her eyes wide and Potter's face slacked with something achingly vulnerable, he blinked in disbelief at her before something changed in his eyes, something dark and dangerous woke up and with it Potter's body language morphed.

He stood straightener facing his hopefully-no-longer girlfriend.

"I don't understand because I don't have one to begin with, right? Is that what you were about to say?" He asked, his voice was dipped in icy water, cold and fierce.

"It's true!" Weaslette screamed and immediately knew she crossed a line as her face paled enough that her freckles almost wasn't visible.

"Get out of my sight before I do something I will regret later," Potter growled and the air around them froze. shaking more violently than before in unconcealed fury, looking as if he was vibrating with anger. The air around him seemed to be alight with magic crackling ominously.

Draconia's heart stopped, never hearing Potter this furious in her life, not even when he went toe to toe against the Dark Lord. He looked ready to kill enough for Weaslette to back away in fear and stumble upon a fallen book. She fell, hard, on her knees with a loud thud but soon she started to stutter words that only fed to Potter's fury. But soon Weaslette went running out of the library, stumbling again on her way out.

Maybe in another time, Draconia would have laughed at her reaction. But she didn't, her main focus was Potter.

His body visibly slumped then and so the books and parchments around him. Potter looked around the mess he made with a look so deeply heartfelt.

"Why it's so hard for them to understand ? Haven't I sacrificed enough?" His voice is ragged, exhausted and Draconia's heart clinched painfully, she recognized that Potter, probably, needed some sort of help, that she undeniably couldn't offer even if she wanted to.

Draconia moved from where she was hidden, Potter was watching her, his bloodshot eyes making the green of his irises even more startlingly emerald than usual, and for a moment she understood what wasn't said, but was trapped in his eyes. She flexed her hands, the urge to reach out and smooth his creased brow, to soothe him was so overwhelming that she had to bite her lip painfully to stop herself from acting on it, knowing that Potter would never welcome such a gesture.

"Sometimes I wish– i wish that I was anyone else, but Harry bloody Potter." the despair in his voice was gutting, as if it's the second of May and Hogwarts was burning around them.

Draconia wished then, that she had the courage to speak— even knowing that it would have been ridiculous. Seeing Potter's slumped shoulders as he turned to walk away from her, into the empty corridor and out of the library as dawn shone through the windows and into the empty tables. With a trembling fist, she drew a circle on the center of her chest, multiple times, to the empty space in front of her.

I'm sorry .

And that was the last time anyone, including herself, saw him.

Tbc..