three: congredior

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congredior: meet, come together, come face to face

congredior: meet, come together, come face to face

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———

"YOU'RE AWAKE."

Draco was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Astoria's soft voice and stiffened when she turned onto her side to drape one arm over his bare chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

He'd never even slept. His thoughts had been plagued by Granger's words a fortnight ago. He found it increasingly difficult to resist the temptation to do as she asked and he hated her for giving him the oppurtunity. It'd been easier when he had known Elara didn't know he existed—it had been the only thing keeping him away these past two years.

"Draco."

He blinked as Astoria spoke again and she lifted herself up onto her elbows to frown at him, delicate eyebrows pulled together. "Are you alright?"

Draco rubbed one hand across his jaw, the warmth of her bare body against his making him uncomfortable. He didn't like to be near her like this—sex was the only time he could stand to touch her.

"Fine," he answered, curtly, moving to sit up and get off the bed but Astoria stopped him, one hand on his chest, pushing him down. He could've easily overpowered her but forced himself to relax back into the bed, not wanting to alarm her more.

"You sure you slept?" she asked, gently, honey brown eyes focused on him. He nodded, a lie.

"I have to go."

"Where?" she inquired, sliding off him as he got to his feet and crossed over to the bathroom, intending to take a shower. "You said the Dark Lord wouldn't summon you—"

"Why do you have to ask so many fucking questions?" Draco snapped, not even turning to look at her as he stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Self-loathing was an easy place to sink into—he'd felt it for so long, had accepted it, had fucked Astoria and rammed his fists into walls to drive away the thoughts of it.

And yet, he still felt no remorse—not for essentially killing Dumbledore, not for unleashing Death Eaters into his school. The only reason he regretted the things he'd done was because of her.

Because he had sentenced her to two years of torture and mind-numbing suffering, had taken away her friends and family from her the night she was captured, had forced her to go through pain she had never deserved.

All because he had to save his mother.

And it would've been more merciful to kill her—to save her from the agony she'd have to go through at the hands of the Death Eaters. If he had been kind, he would've done as she asked and killed her that night under Malfoy Manor.

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