STARDUST ☆ D. MALFOY

16 ☆ amelioration

"Snape really seems to have it out for him," Eunbyeol giggles. "All three of you, really!" The Potions master had spent most of the classes this week being particularly nasty to Fred, George, and Lee, nitpicking their behaviors, appearances, and even the slightest details of their potions.

"Well, George did break Draco Malfoy's nose," Fred shrugs. "The little shit deserved it."

"Yeah," Eunbyeol nods, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "I can't believe he said all of those things," she sighs, a conflicted look on her face. Fred and George exchange a frown at how distressed she seems over the situation. "Draco's never been the nicest person around, but he's never been the nastiest. That behavior was absolutely abhorrent! I just don't get it." She murmurs under her breath, "He was so nice before the match, too."

"Before the match?" asks Fred. "You spoke to him?"

She nods absentmindedly, the frown lingering on her face. "We have prefect rounds together a lot, you see. He said hello when I was walking to the quidditch field. He said my scarf was ugly," George rolls his eyes while Fred blows a raspberry. "But he just joked about supporting him and stuff. He was so pleasant. I really thought he was trying to be a nicer person."

"Slytherins are shitty people," Fred shrugs.

"What he means to say, Byeol," George hastily follows, shooting a glare at Fred, "Is that some people don't change."

"Yes," she sighs lowly, sounding so sullen and disappointed that George wraps an arm around her and pulls her flush to his side in a consoling hug. She mumbles into his sweater, "Yeah, I guess so."

☆☆☆

Draco doesn't see Eunbyeol for two weeks. He catches glimpses of her back in the Great Hall and in classes, sees her tugs on George Weasley's sleeve with encouraging smiles, but never truly sees her. She switches prefect shifts with other people, choosing to do rounds with Hannah Abbott, Adrian Pucey, Ron Weasley—anyone that isn't him. He had managed to catch her eye once, over dinner, but she had just given him the same sad, confusing stare that he had gotten on the quidditch field.

Draco spends hours mulling over the way Eunbyeol had looked at him, trying to place the expression. It was, at its vaguest, sad, but there was something far more nuanced in her emotions. His chest felt painfully hollow as he leaned against the back of the greenhouse—one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be completely alone—with the look in her eyes disrupting all other thoughts in his head. Was it disappointment? Disgust?

There was something oddly familiar about it, and he lets himself slide down to the ground when he finally realizes it. Her expression had mirrored one he'd often see on his mother's face when watching his father, when he'd drink too much or storm out the room angrily. It was a look that teetered on the edge of heartbreak and exhaustion. He doesn't even realize the tear is rolling down his cheek until it drips off onto his sweater, and he bats it away angrily. "Fuck," he mutters to himself, and draws his knees in, burying his head between them. He doesn't know how long he cries, but eventually, his shoulders stop shaking and his eyes stop leaking and the puddles his created on the knees of his pants stop growing. He stays in that position, though, knees drawn close and head dropped low, just to breathe.

"Malfoy?" a girl asks warily from above him. "Are you alright?" He looks up to see Eunbyeol standing before him, watching him cautiously. She looks something like an angel, the sunlight casting a glow around her face and the dark green ribbons in her hair. It's like I called her here, he thinks to himself wryly. Just his fucking luck that Eunbyeol Moon would wander by in the middle of him crying. She squints. "Are you crying?"