DARK SOULS ☽ 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢

𝔳𝔦𝔦 | third year

Weeks before we are to go home, I am sat in the common room reading a book, nobody else around me. I stir my tea with a simple spell, waving my hand lazily through the air. Since winter break, many strange things have occurred around the castle. One time I even swore I saw Hermione Granger enter one room, then walk past me in the hall a minute later. 

Harry Potter and his friends have been reported to be in the hospital wing for some strange midnight adventure they were rumored to have gone on. Multiple scares of Sirius Black being on campus had occurred, but we got though the year safely. 

Also, I had not spoken to Draco since the winter holiday. Not that it matters. 

Sometimes his eyes cross mine in the halls, and the look he gives me is not as menacing as it used to be. Sometimes I see him cheering for a Quidditch game, and he looks genuinely happy, but sometimes I see him walk through the common room, with what looks like tears in his eyes. I'll never be able to decipher the boy, but I still resent him.

I still can't understand the feeling that flourishes inside of me when I hear him answering a question in class, or laughing in the common room. It causes me to look away nervously, for fear that he'll meet my eyes. 

I'm engrossed in my book, so when he walks into the empty common room alone, I'm unaware. Until he clears his throat. I can recognize that it's him, just from that simple action alone. 

"Reading for pleasure?" He smirks, brushing a hand through his hair. I flick my eyes up for a second, but don't answer, "Is it written by a Muggle?"

"Funny." I say, bored of his repetitive responses, "and no." I answer his question, shutting the book. Dominating Dementors: A True History of Azkaban is what the title reads. Draco rolls his eyes. 

"Looks awfully boring," he scoffs, and turns to walk up into the boys dormitories. He stops for a second to look back at me. I study his face, trying to understand what our conversation meant to him, but he breaks eye contact and stomps up the stairs. 

❂

School wraps up as usual, we pack our things and say our goodbyes to teachers and friends, then take our spots in the great hall for the final feast and Dumbledore's final words. Our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been fired once again, to the surprise of no one. 

 Since Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, the amount of house points won from that also won them the House Cup. Pretty predictable in my opinion. I say goodbye to my friends; Aurora, Daphne, and Blaise, and unite with my parents again at King's Cross. 

The last time I see Draco is with his parents, walking away from me. I whisper a goodbye to him in my head, but it is quickly forgotten when I see my mother and father. 

Large smiles on both of their faces to see their daughter again, I bound toward them, my trolley in tow. I hug them both tight, leaping into their arms.

"We've missed you, Y/N." Mother says, smiling. Father's eyes flicker to the Slytherin crest on my robes for a feeble second, but I still notice it. He and I have never looked at each other the same way since we've drifted apart and share different ideals.

My father believes that Muggles and wizards should live in unity, with Muggles knowing of everything we do. After becoming more learned in past years, I've realized that Muggles aren't as helpless as we perceive them to be, and all past occurrences where Muggles have discovered the truth of the wizarding world have all ended in tragedy. Mainly Muggles getting their minds erased, or wizards getting burned at the stake.

I sigh to myself, trying not to gaze back at the Hogwarts Express. I already miss my second home.