the boy who had no choice [d.m]

𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

Moonlight had looked good on him that night by the Great Lake; now, it made him look deadly.

"Do not lie to me, Elara," he hissed, so close she felt his breath on her face. "Do not lie to me because you want to spare me. I do not want your pity. It's useless to me."

She wanted to feel angry and offended, wanted to remove herself from his grip but it had been such a long, terrible forty-eight hours.

More like a long, terrible two months.

"Elara, honey?" Pomfrey's voice floated in. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Elara said without hesitation, her eyes still fixed on Draco's face. He didn't let go of her, their chests still brushing against each other's. "Everything is fine."

She waited until Madam Pomfrey's footsteps receded before speaking. "Does it even matter?"

He seemed surprised at her composed tone and his grip loosened on her wrist.

"Yes or no?" he said, quietly.

She averted her gaze. "Yes."

She knew he'd already known that but his shoulders still dropped, rage flickering on his face for a second before he masked it.

"I'll tell them," Elara said, softly. "I'll tell them eventually and he'll face the consequences. But I do not want you getting expelled for doing something violent." She slid her wrist out of his grip and looked up at him, imploringly, as she stepped back from him. "Please, Draco. It's the only thing I ask of you."

Draco observed her, silently.

"You have to go," she told him, gently, sitting back on the edge of the bed. She was already tired out. When would things start looking up for her? She was starting to think they never would.

Draco's eyes rested on her for a heartbeat longer before he turned, yanking open the curtain. "Fine. But I make no promises."

He vanished before she could respond.

|

Elara insisted on being discharged from the infirmary the next day. She absolutely could not miss any more classes.

Despite Freya's insistence on her resting in the common room, Elara attended all of her lessons.

Even Potions where Fletcher and Draco were paired up.

Fletcher didn't dare raise his eyes from the cauldron in front of him while Draco did everything he could to make his partner's life hell. He'd mess up the simplest of instructions, add the wrong ingredients and blame it on Fletcher or shove into him so hard the smaller boy stumbled.

Elara watched in amusement but it quickly dulled when her eyes fell on Fletcher's nose. It was bruised and an ugly purple - she guessed he hadn't fixed it yet.

It made him so much uglier and Elara had thought he couldn't get more disgusting than when he'd been leering at her, his hand -

She forced the thought away and handed Cho the fairy wings.

As they filtered out of the class, Elara broke away from her friends to catch up to Draco who was walking alongside Theodore Nott.

"Excuse me," she muttered, twisting her shoulders to pass them, brushing Draco's hand in the process. It was easy to press the note into his hand before she took off.

Seven. AT.

It was all she had written but she knew he'd understand.

Elara studied with Stuart until six thirty, catching up on the material she'd missed while in the infirmary.