63 - Dreams

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"Oooo, how was your Easter?"

I glanced over the top of my magazine as Pansy eagerly skipped across the common room; throwing herself down onto the other end of the sofa.

"It was all right, I suppose." I shrugged coolly. "You?"

"Fabsies," she trilled. "Daddy got a promotion at work and bought me a new broomstick. I was thinking of trying out for the Quidditch team seeing as our new Seeker is shit."

"Good for you," I muttered, casting my eyes back down to my magazine.

I wasn't really reading it; how could I? My mind kept replaying the events of what had happened at Malfoy Manor; kept visualising the look of fear in Draco's and Narcissa's eyes.

My stomach gave a sickening twist every time I contemplated what kind of punishment Voldemort would have deemed fit to dish out to them.

But I wasn't about to share this with Pansy who was acting as if we weren't even in the midst of a horrifying war.

"Hey, Gregory!" Pansy suddenly called out, waving over to Goyle who had just entered the common room alone, looking strangely lost without Crabbe. "Come join us, we were just sharing our exciting stories about the holidays! Daddy got a promotion!"

He blinked over at us, before shrugging his shoulders and lumbered over; placing himself heavily in the armchair opposite.

"Where's your other half?" I drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Left him hoovering up the crumbs in the Great Hall?"

"Nah," he grunted, looking suddenly forlorn. "He didn't even make it to Hogwarts. Bloody idiot got himself caught lobbing a wizard bomb through a Muggle's shop window."

Damn, that was the most I'd ever heard him speak in all the years I'd known him.

Crabbe wasn't the only one who hadn't returned. The castle was sparse now that the majority of the student body had gone into hiding.

I hated every minute of it. We were learning nothing; the teachers, bar the Carrow's, were all nervous and jumpy, telling us to keep safe at the end of each lesson rather than set any homework.

I constantly harassed Snape, begging him for information on the Malfoy's. But he refused to tell me a sodding thing.

"My concern is only for Hogwarts, Miss Zabini." He would stiffly repeat. "And I suggest you spend this time concentrating on your education if you wish to achieve any kind of adequate future."

I wanted to scream at him that my future was Draco. But I had to hold on to the hope that no news was good news, because if something bad had happened to them, then I would surely have heard about it.

And then there was Neville. I tried desperately to find out if there was any news on him too; from scouring newspaper after newspaper to casually sidling up to the occasional Gryffindor and asking if they'd heard anything.

But sadly, I was always treated with suspicion. Because of course, as a Slytherin, I was considered the enemy. And it was a fucking lonely position to be in.

I was in a state of limbo and I hated it. All I wanted, no - needed - was to know that Draco and Neville were alive and well.

Then, almost two months after I'd left Malfoy Manor, I found myself being woken up quite dramatically in the middle of the night.

The amplified voice of Snape echoed around the castle, demanding all students and staff to convene immediately in the Great Hall. No exceptions.

And I knew. I knew that something was finally happening and I didn't know if I was terrified or relieved.

*****

Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy Where stories live. Discover now