Draco's voice trembles, his pale countenance a canvas of anguish as he recounts the nightmarish ordeal. "And then," he murmurs, his words barely audible, "my aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, held me down while Voldemort burned the Dark Mark..." With trembling hands, he slowly unveils the dreaded mark etched onto his arm.
You avert your gaze, the weight of sorrow and fury heavy upon your heart at the cruelty inflicted upon Draco. He's just a boy, yet he's endured horrors beyond comprehension.
"I understand," Dumbledore replies calmly, his demeanor unwavering as he takes a sip from his tea cup. The three of you are seated in his office, the expanse of Dumbledore's desk separating you. "My condolences, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore continues solemnly, his eyes reflecting both sympathy and concern. "This was a dark, dark fate for anyone to face. But I appreciate your honesty."
Draco nods silently, his gaze fixed on the floor as he battles to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf him. Instinctively, you reach out, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering silent solace in his time of vulnerability.
He meets your gaze, finding solace in the warmth of your touch as you squeeze his hand reassuringly under the table. A soft smile passes between you, a silent exchange of gratitude and understanding.
"Things have taken a dire turn much sooner than anticipated," Dumbledore remarks gravely. "If what you say is true, Mr. Malfoy, Voldemort—"
"Sir," you interject, sensing Draco's unease at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Please."
"Of course," Dumbledore says sympathetically. "He-who-must-not-be-named is leveraging the Ministry's denial of his return to further his agenda."
"He has already orchestrated the escape of my aunt and other Death Eaters from Azkaban," Draco reveals, his voice strained with tension. "Even the Dementors have aligned with him. Many Dark Wizards from the first Wizarding War have rallied to his cause. And worst of all, he has coerced my father into placing Sturgis Podmore and Broderick Bode under the Imperius curse to obtain a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries."
"Sturgis Podmore..." you whisper, the name weighing heavily on your mind. "He's an Order member, isn't he?"
"Indeed," Dumbledore confirms, his tone darkening. "He was tasked with protecting that very prophecy. I will inform Ms. Tonks and Mr. Weasley to intercept him and Bode at once and replace his post." He turns his gaze to Draco and you. "Thank you, both of you. You have just prevented a grave catastrophe."
"It was all thanks to Y/N, sir," Draco acknowledges, his voice tinged with sincerity. "She convinced me to tell you all I know."
Dumbledore nods, his eyes reflecting pride and gratitude. "Your courage and honesty are commendable, Y/N," he says warmly, directing his attention to you. "And Draco, your willingness to confide in us speaks volumes of your character."
You offer a small smile, appreciating Dumbledore's words of praise amidst the seriousness of the situation. Despite the weight of the revelations, a sense of relief washes over you, knowing that your actions have helped avert a potential disaster.
"What do we do now, Professor?" you inquire, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"You two do nothing," Dumbledore replies, his voice firm yet reassuring. "Carry on as usual. Mr. Malfoy, maintain your usual demeanor, especially around your family. It is imperative that no one suspects any change in your allegiance. Report any news, duties, or rumors directly to me or Ms. Y/N. In the meantime, the two of you must, at least for appearances, renew your friendship so that Mr. Malfoy may relay information to Ms. Y/N without arousing suspicion in the event you cannot reach me."
"Understood, Professor," you respond, determination clear in your voice. "We'll do whatever it takes to help."
With a smile, Dumbledore sees you two out of his office. Stepping onto the school grounds, a sense of relief washes over you, as if a burden has been lifted. The comforting green grass beneath your feet grounds you as you and Draco traverse the grounds, the distant sounds of Quidditch practice echoing in the air.
"That was very brave of you, Draco," you commend him, admiration gleaming in your eyes.
Draco's response is guarded, his expression inscrutable. "It was necessary," he replies.
"Still, it couldn't have been easy," you remark softly, offering a reassuring touch to his arm.
Draco meets your gaze, a fleeting glimmer of gratitude passing through his eyes before it vanishes. "Let's just hope it makes a difference," he says, uncertainty coloring his tone. "Although..."
You notice the telltale sign immediately—Draco is blushing.
"Although?" you prompt, intrigued by his sudden hesitation.
"...I was hoping that..." He pauses, his gaze locking with yours, and you feel a flutter in your chest. "the renewal of our friendship wouldn't only be for appearances."
Your mind races, trying to make sense of Draco's words. He said "friendship," but the way he's looking at you, the intensity in his eyes, it feels like there's something more beneath the surface. Your heart pounds in your chest, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.
You struggle to find the right words, your mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Why does his simple statement have such a profound effect on you? Why does it feel like there's an unspoken truth hanging between you, waiting to be acknowledged?
As Draco waits for your response, the weight of his gaze feels both exhilarating and daunting. You search for the courage to speak, to address the unspoken tension that lingers in the air between you. But for now, all you can manage is a soft, uncertain smile, hoping that it conveys the myriad of emotions swirling within you.
"Y/N..." Draco' expression is deja vu, its the same expression he had the first time you talked, blushing and flustered "...I wanted to tell you that I still lo-"
"Ah!" you yelp as you're swept off your feet, quite literally, by Cedric who appears out of nowhere on his Firebolt.
You yelp in surprise, clinging to Cedric for dear life as he spins the broom around like a merry-go-round, laughter bubbling from his lips. The wind whips at your face, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself as best you can.
"Put me down! Put me down!" you scream, the rush of adrenaline mixing with equal parts exhilaration and panic. Cedric, oblivious to your distress, continues to loop and spin through the air, his laughter echoing across the grounds.
You swat at Cedric's arm as the ride finally comes to a stop, your heart still racing from the adrenaline rush. "You nutter!" you exclaim, trying to catch your breath as you shoot him a playful glare. "You demented, deranged, psychotic—"
"Prince?" Cedric offers with a mischievous grin.
"Sure," you reply with a roll of your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh. "Prince of Nutters."
Cedric chuckles and guides the broom back down to the ground where Draco stands, a bemused expression on his face. You dismount the Firebolt with shaky legs, grateful for solid ground beneath your feet once more. As you join Draco, you can't help but wonder what he was about to say earlier.
"Good morning," Draco says in a strained voice to Cedric.
"Evening," Cedric corrects, his one equally forced "Its evening."
"No! That can't be right!" you exclaim, rushing to find your pocket watch "Bloody hell! We've been in Dumbledore's office for over seven hours!"
"Ya, what were you doing in there all day?" Cedric shoots Draco an icy glare "together."
Draco shifts uncomfortably under Cedric's gaze, his expression tight with unease. "It's not what you think," he begins, his voice faltering slightly. "We were... discussing some important matters with Professor Dumbledore."
Cedric raises an eyebrow skeptically, his gaze flickering between you and Draco. "Seven hours of discussion?" he asks incredulously.
You jump in, eager to defuse the tension. "It was complicated," you offer, your words coming out in a rush. "Professor Dumbledore needed our assistance with a-er- sensitive matter."
"Which is?"
"I...." your voice feels like natural gas in your tightened throat "...can't tell you."
"Why not?" Cedric presses, his tone tinged with suspicion.
You glance at Draco, silently pleading for assistance. He meets your gaze briefly before turning back to Cedric, his expression carefully neutral.
"It's classified," Draco interjects smoothly, his voice laced with authority. "Top-secret school business. You know how it is."
"You bet," Cedric says darkly, glaring at Draco's Slytherin prefect batch "A matter so sensitive that a prefect can know but the head boy can not?"
Draco's facade wavers for a moment before he recomposes himself, his expression morphing into one of feigned innocence. "It's not about rank," he says smoothly, "It's about discretion. Some matters require a level of confidentiality that even the head boy isn't privy to."
"He's right, Ced," you say, trying to sound convincing. "It's not about rank or secrets. It's just a matter Dumbledore needed help with, and he trusted us to handle it discreetly." You lace your arm through Cedric's with a mischievous smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides," you say, "we've got more important things to worry about."
"Do we now?" a sly grin tugs at Cedric's lips as he cocks an eyebrow, his voice low and sultry.
"Yup," you reply, poking the tip of his nose playfully. "Like coming up with an excuse to skip dinner so we can sneak off for a quiet supper in the courtyard."
"I thought our tradition was breakfast," Cedric whispers in your ear as he glides his nose along your jawline, his touch as light as a moth wing but makes you shudder and blush deep.
You feel a shiver run down your spine as Cedric's warm breath tickles your ear, sending a flurry of sensations through your body. His proximity sends your heart racing, and you can't help but blush at the intimate gesture.
"Traditions can be flexible," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. "Especially when it's with you."
Cedric's lips curl into a tender smile, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his voice soft and warm against your skin.
You find yourself captivated by his gaze, lost in the depth of his eyes as you lean into his touch, the world around you fading away until it's just the two of you, wrapped in an intimate moment beneath the setting sun.
Draco's clearing throat interrupts the playful banter between you and Cedric, pulling both of you back to reality. Cedric shoots Draco a glare that could rival a basilisk's gaze.
You stand on your tiptoes to kiss Cedric on the cheek. "I have to catch up with Harry," you say, your voice tinged with excitement. "Going to ask him when I can try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Meet you at our spot at seven?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the Quidditch Cup." Cedric replies with a wink, his eyes twinkling as he watches you wave and run towards the Gryffindor team.
°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°
"Well, I'll be off then," Draco announces to Cedric, turning on his heel to leave.
But Cedric's voice stops him in his tracks. "Wait just a moment," he calls out, his tone firm yet measured, carrying across the courtyard.
Draco halts, turning back to face Cedric with a curious expression, his brow furrowed in anticipation.
"We need to talk..." Cedric approaches him, his Hufflepuff Quidditch cape fluttering gently in the breeze, adding an air of seriousness to his demeanor. "About Y/N."
Draco raises an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "Trouble in paradise?" he quips lightly, though there's a subtle undertone of concern beneath his words.
Cedric's expression shifts, his features turning more serious. "Not exactly. But I've noticed something... odd between you two."
Draco's curiosity is piqued. "Odd? What do you mean?"
"It's just..." Cedric hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "The way you two interact... It's like there's something more there. And I'm not just talking about friendship."
Draco's facade remains impassive, but a flicker of vulnerability flashes in his eyes. "What are you getting at, Diggory?"
Cedric sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, You had your shot and you blew it. So why start toying with her again!?!"
Draco tries to maintain his composure, but his resolve wavers and he can't help but bite his lip in uncertainty.
"If you want to be with her," Cedric steps closer, his tone firm, "Man up and tell her. Otherwise, you have to leave her alone, and this time, for real, because I want to be with Y/N more than I have ever wanted anything in my life."
Draco's gaze hardens, his jaw tensing as he absorbs Cedric's words. There's a moment of silence between them, the tension palpable in the air.
Finally, Draco exhales heavily, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I appreciate your candor, Diggory," he says, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I assure you, there's nothing between Y/N and me."
Cedric narrows his eyes, unconvinced by Draco's words. "Actions speak louder than words, Malfoy," he says, his tone firm. "If you truly care about her, you'll do right by her."