Living Death

- chapter twenty three

At least in the hospital wing it was quiet and he could be alone, until the occasional student was brought in after taking a rather nasty hit from a Bludger during a Quidditch match. He couldn't recall if it had been hours or days since the fight between him and Potter but most of the physical pain had subsided, with only a few silver scars left to tell the tale.

Madam Pomfrey had informed him he was free to go now but he didn't have any desire to leave the wing. The Slytherin dungeons were empty without you and he didn't fancy another run in with Potter after their duel. He wasn't even welcome at the Manor now things had gotten worse. The place was crawling with Deatheaters and none of them were particularly pleased with him after his failure to carry out the one task he'd been given. He yearned for a home.

He sat on the edge of the bed slowly as Madam Pomfrey watched from her desk expectantly, a sign he should probably hurry up and leave. He pushed off the bed and passed by her after he had signed himself out, heading down the corridor. He had no possessions to return to the dormitory with, as the clothes he had initially been wearing had been discarded, unsalvageable after his severe blood loss. Professor Snape had briefly dropped in with Draco's black suit in hand, laying it beside him, but the two had not exchanged words. They never did nowadays.

He pulled on his ring a little as he walked, a nervous habit he did when he was uncertain. He didn't know where to go and it was late now, the low flicker of candlelight lighting up the otherwise darkened corridors. Much to his discontent, there appeared to be some sort of event going on as he made his way up a staircase to one of the upper floors, students wandering about dressed in formal attire, most likely one of Slughorn's parties. He recalled Blaise striking conversation during dinner the other day to try and ease the atmosphere, talking about a few events lined up.

It was wasted on Theo and Draco, even if they for some obscure reason, wanted to attend, they weren't welcome. Draco had been branded with the terrifying mark himself now, and he smirked slightly to himself, thinking about how horrified Slughorn would be if he ever found out. Blaise would probably have to kiss goodbye to his Slug Club membership simply for being in the same social circle as him. The only time he wished he could be a part of all that ridiculousness was whenever he saw you beautifully dressed up for the occasion, it pained him, especially when he thought of McLaggen's beady eyes all over you.

As if things couldn't get worse than the increased influx of people about, he suddenly noticed Potter heading up the corridor with one of his little friends beside him. Great. He had only moments to decide what to do before he was seen, he wasn't afraid but he certainly didn't fancy any confrontation right now. The archway of a nearby window with a stone column shielding it looked like his only option. Not only would it offer concealment, but he could sit there undisturbed without anyone even thinking to look there for him.

He took comfort in the darkness of the night and the harsh and cold winter but secretly longed to relive those warm summer days with you. He insisted it was not his thing but there was nothing more he enjoyed than spending an afternoon with you, studying and picking at a picnic you'd conjured up. He could see you now, desperately attempting to hide your scruffy notes from his prying eyes but he was never really looking at them. It was always you he always had his eye on.

The golden sun was bouncing off your skin and you squinted in the light, looking across the lake at Longbottom up to his usual weird antics, the ripples of the water reflecting of your irises a little. You tucked your quill behind your ear as you read over the next few pages of your textbook before desperately trying to prove you had a neat hand after all, furiously scribbling down some key points. He laughed to himself and found that he was laughing again now, to himself quietly out of fondness. God he missed you.