That same night ...
"That's bad for your eyes, y'know. Writing without light."
"We have magic to fix his eyes, Blaise."
Draco quickly closed the notebook when he heard the familiar voices. His two best friends, Theo and Blaise, stood next to him. He hadn't heard them approaching. Blaise rolled his eyes when he saw his sudden motion. "Don't worry, we didn't see anything."
"You better not," Draco grumbled and put the book away.
Once again, he sat on the bleachers by the Quidditch field, enjoying the stillness around him. Hardly anyone was here, now that the days had slowly turned colder. The trees had lost their leaves by now, making them look like giant skeletons in the distance. An icy wind blew over the field. Draco didn't mind it though; his green Slytherin scarf and a pair of gloves helped him stay warm just fine.
He wasn't expecting Blaise and Theo – or anyone at all – to come up here tonight and to be completely honest, it bothered him a little. If he wanted to talk to someone, he'd stay in the common room. However, he guessed why they were here.
"So," Blaise began as if he read his mind. He sat down next to him while Theo leaned against the barricade in front of Draco. "We were looking for you."
"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to be found?", Draco asked dryly.
"Yes, but since when do we care about such minor details?", Theo retorted with a grin.
Draco sighed theatrically and leaned back against his seat. "So spit it out already, I know why you're here anyways."
Blaise lifted an eyebrow. "Is it true then? You and the Gryffindor?"
"You heard her last night and you saw us today," Draco answered while not looking at either of them.
Blaise waited for him to continue. When it didn't happen, he asked: "How did that happen?"
Draco shrugged. "We ran into each other a few times."
"That's no explanation," Theo snorted. "I run into McGonagall all the time and yet I'm not dating her." This caused Blaise and Draco to look at him in confusion.
"Why are you running into McGonagall all the time?", Blaise tilted his head.
"I don't know," Theo said. "She's always there when I go somewhere."
Draco shook his head. "That's fucking weird."
"It is," Blaise agreed. "Maybe she's stalking you."
"Or he's stalking her," the white-haired Slytherin added with a grin which caused Blaise to laugh.
Theo rolled his eyes. "Oh fuck off and don't change the subject."
This caused Blaise to stop laughing as if he suddenly remembered why they were here. "He's right, Draco. Don't change the subject." He cleared his throat. "How did that happen?"
Draco wondered how much he could tell his friends. On the one side, he trusted them. However, they were also way too talkative. No, if worst came to worst, Astoria would hear about this dumb plan of his and then all hell would break loose. Besides, if they didn't tell anyone, he would be subject to relentless teasing for the rest of his life. So Draco decided to keep it vague.
"You remember at the beginning of the school year when all those parties took place?"
They nodded.
"Well, we accidently hid in the same storage room from our dates," he continued. "That's when we met. And then I guess, we just kept running into each other." Draco hoped that they would be content with his answer. He was wrong.
"Still doesn't make any sense," Blaise concluded and glanced at Theo who looked equally irritated by the story.
"Did you ...", Theo began suddenly but trailed off.
"Did I what?", Draco demanded to know with furrowed brows.
"Y'know, in the storage room ...", his friend made a very explicit gesture with his hands, causing Blaise to snort.
"No, my last name isn't Zabini," Draco said dryly.
Blaise didn't take any offense in this and just chuckled.
Before Draco was able to stop himself, he added: "We made out though."
Theo looked surprised.
"Hm, nice," Blaise nodded. "Is she any good?"
Draco sent him a suggestive look and both of them started grinning.
"And now you're dating?", Theo interrupted them.
Draco sighed. "Yes."
Once again, both of his friends exchanged confused looks. To them, it didn't make any sense. This wasn't the Draco Malfoy they grew up with. No, the Draco Malfoy they'd known their entire lives wouldn't even think about touching a Gryffindor except for pushing them off their broomsticks during a Quidditch game.
„Please excuse us not getting any of this," Blaise finally continued. "Let's start with the obvious – she's a Gryffindor."
"Please, don't remind me of that," Draco retorted and pretended to shudder in disgust. The motion made his friends chuckle.
"She's friends with your bestie." When Theo saw that Draco didn't know who he meant, he added: "Potter."
"Merlin, don't remind me of that either."
Theo frowned now. "She's also a Blood Traitor per definition."
"Didn't we leave that behind?", Blaise asked him.
Theo gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Officially."
"Hmm," Blaise made. "But you're wrong anyways. Haven't you heard of her sister?"
Now it was Draco's turn to frown. What was he talking about? Her sister? He wasn't even aware that she had one. "What do you mean?"
"Alissa Y/L/N?", Blaise asked as if this was supposed to ring a bell. Then he added: "The cleansing in Edinburgh?"
"Wait, what?!", Draco leaned forward.
"That's her sister?", Theo exclaimed at the same time.
"How do you not know that?!", Blaise questioned, not believing that this was truly news to them. "Especially you, Draco!"
"I was a little preoccupied to care about gossip back then, Blaise," Draco hissed immediately. Then he leaned back again, letting out a long breath of air. "Fuck me."
Blaise nodded, a serious expression on his face. "Yeah, I had the same reaction. And imagine, she was a Ravenclaw back in Hogwarts."
Draco couldn't believe it. "How do you know that?", he wanted to know.
"My mother. She knows people," Blaise said simply. "And I thought everyone knew; the Death Eaters talked about it for weeks."
It was as if pieces of a puzzle came finally came together for Draco. He remembered your vague suggestions when you met up here on the bleachers. For him, this was also the explanation for your sudden interest in his life. Did you actually understand him? Or at least a part of him? You grew up in another world and yet, you must've had a glimpse at his world already. Like looking through a window, you came into contact with a life similar to his before. Was this the reason he felt ... so calm around you?
"I guess only half of her family are Blood Traitors then," Theos voice pulled him back into reality. The comment was nonetheless distasteful after the information they just heard. Theo sensed this when he saw Dracos face and quickly continued: "Per definition."
Blaise raised his hand before Theo could talk anymore and tried to change the subject back instead: "More importantly, like I already said, she's a Gryffindor. You hate Gryffindors, Draco."
Still a little agitated by what he just learned, Draco mumbled: "I don't hate her."
"Clearly," Blaise assured him. "But why?"
Slowly, Draco began to feel annoyed. He had expected his friends to ask him questions about you. Didn't mean he was any less bothered by it. "What do you want me to say here?!" Draco raised his hands. "It's none of your fucking business."
"Is she good in bed?", Theo asked innocently to which Draco shot him an angry look. "Okay, okay," his friend smirked. "Would have been an explanation at least."
"Is this about Astoria?"
The question came from Blaise and it made Draco freeze. "What?", he snapped.
There was a smug look on Blaise's face when he realized he was onto something here. "You know what I mean. Is this about her?"
"No."
"Are you trying to run away from the engagement?", he pondered.
"Merlin, Zabini. I'm not running from anything," Draco shot back at him, way too angry for his liking. "And as long as I'm not engaged, I can be with whoever I want."
"Yes," Blaise nodded in agreement. "So why choose Y/L/N?"
"She's smart, she's kind, she's hot, being around her makes me feel good. Happy?!" Draco was surprised over his own words. They simply came out; he didn't have to think about them – and yet, they were true.
He enjoyed being around you. When he decided to wait for you after class today, he thought he'd be bothered by it, but then ... he wasn't. When he had held your hand, it didn't even compare to the feeling he got when Astoria touched him. With her, he felt the need to flinch or to take a step back and with you ... it was so different. Draco realized now with terror that the feeling he had gotten when he had to let go of you was disappointment.
Theo and Blaise stared at him as if they were trying to read his minds. He suddenly got scared that they sensed the confusion inside of him.
"All that can be said about Astoria as well," Theo said softly then.
Draco had to leave now. All this talk made him think about things, he didn't like. "Are you done with your interrogation?"
They weren't. "You don't want to be with Astoria, am I right?", Blaise guessed.
"I'm leaving now," Draco got up but so did his friend.
Blaise raised his hand as if he wanted to stop them and continued with his theory, talking faster now. "You're looking for a way to get out of it and you found a girl to date. It would give you time to postpone it without upsetting your parents too much. After all, she's a pureblood and comes from a more or less reputable family."
Fuck.
"This is ridiculous," Draco sneered. "Stop hooking up with Hufflepuff girls, Zabini, it's dumbing you down."
He didn't listen. "I know you and you wouldn't be the first to do this."
"I'm done here," Draco started walking towards the stairs. "See you later."
"You don't have to lie to us, Draco. We are your friends," Blaise called out.
Draco had already reached the stairs but when he heard this, he quickly turned around, glaring at his friend. "I'm not lying, I'm simply not gonna listen to your pathetic attempts of trying to get me to confess something so that you can find a reason to go back to my future fiancée and comfort her."
With that, he left, not looking back once. Behind him, he could hear Theo laughing at the implied accusation and Blaise replying with some sort of sarcastic comment.
***
The Slytherin common room was filled with students. They were sitting on the couches and tables, playing games, laughing, working on their assignments. Draco didn't glance at any of them when he walked in. He headed straight for his room, with a firm step and a look on his face that made it clear to any of his classmates to better not approach him right now.
"Draco, can we talk?"
Of course. Someone still had to ignore his wishes. Astoria got up from one of the couches where she was talking to her sister and Pansy, and followed him to the stairs which were leading to the boy's rooms. She was still wearing her uniform and Draco guessed that she had waited down here to catch him when got back.
"Not now," Draco said shortly.
"Please, just a second," she pleaded and looked at him with here big doe eyes.
Draco sighed and stopped on the first step. "What is it?"
She looked hurt by his tone of voice but when she spoke, her voice was still soft. "Can I come up with you to talk?"
Draco shook his head. "I'm really not in the mood to talk, Astoria."
Suddenly, her expression changed. As if that sentence triggered something inside of her, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, eyes narrowing. "I don't understand what's going on with you," she said in low voice to avoid making a scene in front of everyone.
"We talked about that yesterday," Draco replied, trying to stay calm.
"Thanks for the reminder, Malfoy," she scoffed. "We haven't finished that talk though because someone interrupted us. I still want to know why you're acting up since school started. I deserve better than your constant cold remarks. I won't let you treat me that way!"
Maybe she deserved better, Draco thought. However, her needs weren't exactly high on his lists of priorities right now. He didn't treat her any different than before anyways. She had never been his friend, the only reason why she was suddenly in their circle of friends was because of her sister. And, well, the engagement that was bound to happen eventually.
"How am I treating you, Astoria?", Draco wanted to know.
"Getting into a relationship with that Gryffindor –", Astoria began.
"... is absolutely none of your business," Draco cut her off.
"Yes, it is!", she suddenly exclaimed. Two students who sat nearby turned their heads, watching the scene with curiosity. "We are supposed to be engaged by now!"
"But we're not."
"Because you keep acting like a crybaby!" More students turned their head now. "All that sulking around, your stupid diary, and those sad looks. I can't stand it!" Astoria spat out, her cheeks turning red with anger. "Where's the Draco we used to loved?"
The Slytherin stared at her for a few moments. Yes, where is that Draco? He'd like to have him back as well because the Draco she was talking about didn't care about anything. All he wanted was to prank stupid Potter, graduate and make his parents proud.
"He grew tired of you."
It was barely a whisper but Astoria heard him. She gasped and Draco could only imagine how hurt she was right now. It didn't stop him from continuing: "You know, Astoria, maybe instead of looking for a husband at age eighteen, you should start focusing on school. Because all this," he pointed at the common room, "it means nothing. Nothing at all. Everything we were taught to believe doesn't mean anything. We don't mean anything." Draco turned around without waiting for a reply, leaving the young woman behind him.
"I will tell your parents about this and maybe your father will beat some sense into it!" He heard Astoria shriek downstairs.
"Good luck trying to reach him in Azkaban," was Draco's bitter reply.
He practically slammed open the door to his room and threw his bag next to his bed. He was thankful that Theo and Blaise weren't back yet. His head felt like it was going to explode any second now as he walked up and down, breathing heavily. He didn't know where to start; it was too much of mess. The story about your sister which left him with nothing but confusion and – egoistically – relief. You weren't so different after all, were you? Did you understand him? Why was this so important to him? Why did even care about what you thought or how you felt? He barely knew you at all. He just knew how you made him feel and a part of him hated you for it. He wasn't supposed to ... Suddenly Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He stared out of the window and into the green water of the lake.
He wasn't supposed to think about you. You were a Gryffindor. His parents taught him who was appropriate for him to be around. You certainly weren't at the top of the list. You were friends with muggleborns, hell, probably even muggles, and blood traitors and everyone he should stay away from. But what did he say to Astoria?
It doesn't mean anything.
None of it did. Maybe this was the problem, the reason he felt the way he did. He thought about it before but never said it out loud – and this was all it took for some reason. The realization washed over him like wave. Everything his parents taught him was wrong. All those values and rules, his whole world was wrong. They had lost the war. They raised him to believe he was different; he was worth more than the others. Why? They wouldn't have lost if it meant anything, right? The world would be different if what his parents had taught him wasn't just pretentious bullshit.
Draco suddenly leaned forwards and hit, as hard as he could, his hand on the surface of the table. A bottle of ink fell down and shattered.
"Fuck," he cursed and dropped to his knees. He tried picking up the pieces of glass with his hands and groaned when he cut himself. It was a deep slash in the palm of his hand and immediately blood began to drop onto the cold stones.
It hurt. Draco didn't mean the cut by that, no, he thought about his parents. Why did they do that to him? Why send him off into the world with false hopes and promises, only to leave him alone? His father in Azkaban, his mother only a shadow of herself in that giant mansion. He was left to carry the burden of his family. How could they?
Draco shuddered and the thought made him choke for a second. He gasped for air and then – a single tear ran down his cheeks. His breathing was irregular as he sat down on the ground, staring at the cut in the palm of his hand.
He sat like this for what felt like hours before the door swung open. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini stood there, looking at Draco in shock. Then, slowly, as if they had seen nothing, the two young men took a step back and closed the door.
Draco was alone again.
***
You woke up the next morning, feeling rested and well. This was the best sleep you had in weeks. As you walked over to the bathroom, you saw that it had begun to snow outside. You almost squealed in excitement. It was still early in November. But now as you were looking outside and seeing the sun shine onto the thin white blanket of snow that covered Hogwarts, you couldn't wait for the day to start.
It was a Saturday and the first Hogsmeade weekend this year. You had almost forgotten about it but then managed to sneak a message with the help of Zabini towards Malfoy. What better opportunity to show everyone that you were (fake-)dating than going to Hogsmeade together? Besides, you were still waiting for Ron's reaction. You hadn't seen him all day yesterday but were convinced that he already knew. He had to. Even if he didn't saw you at lunch, Hermione or Ginny probably told him already. You were weirdly excited for him to find out and were sure that he'd probably go to Hogsmeade as well.
You worried if Malfoy had gotten your message when you didn't see him at breakfast. "Meet me at ten at the main entrance. We're going to Hogsmeade together," you had written on a tiny piece of paper. He didn't answer you. He couldn't answer though, you remembered. How was he supposed to get the message to the Gryffindor rooms? But maybe Zabini just threw the paper away after you handed it to him? You wouldn't be surprised to be honest.
Ten o'clock you stood near the main gate, waiting for the Slytherin. Despite the sun shining onto your skin, it was cold. You were thankful for the scarf and gloves and impatiently shifted from one leg to another, trying to warm up. Students who were already leaving for Hogsmeade in pairs passed you by and you tried to catch sight of the familiar blonde hair in the middle of the crowd. No luck.
Five Minutes passed. Then ten minutes. You were just about to leave when fifteen minutes had passed but then you saw him. With his hands in the pocket of his long black coat, he made his way towards you.
"And I here I thought you stood me up," you commented when he had reached you. "Merlin, you look like shit!", you suddenly exclaimed when you got a closer look of his face. He was even paler than usual, deep black circles under his eyes. He shivered and looked as if he was sick.
"Thank you," Malfoy said with a sarcastic undertone. "Let's go?" Without waiting for an answer, he started walking towards the direction of Hogsmeade. He took long strides and you had to hurry to keep up with him.
"Are you okay?", you felt stupid for asking. He obviously wasn't doing alright.
To no surprise, Malfoy nodded. "I'm fine. I just overslept."
You didn't believe him, seeing how stiff he moved and how his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. You walked together in silence for the whole way. Occasionally, you glanced at him, not sure of what to do. When you finally reached the small village, the answer was clear to you:
"Let's have a butterbeer." Before he could protest, you reached for his arm and pulled him into the Three Broomsticks.
Inside it was warm and loud. You took off your scarf and gloves and moved your fingers to warm them up a little. There were already a few students here, taking sips from their hot drinks, enjoying a second breakfast with the few sweets the pub provided.
"Two butterbeers," you said over the counter to the woman working here.
"I don't want anything," Malfoy suddenly chimed in.
You tilted your head. "Why not?"
He didn't meet your eyes, staring at the counter.
"I can see you're cold so you're having a butterbeer," you insisted with a smile.
"No, I really don't want anything," Malfoy said with a sharp voice.
You frowned.
"I ...," he sighed. "I forgot my money." He still didn't look at you.
Oh.
"No worries," you slapped your hands on the table. "I'll cover you. Two butterbeers, please."
Malfoy finally lifted his head and turned to you. The embarrassment in his eyes was as clear as day. "Y/L/N –"
"I insist!", you interrupted him. Luckily, the woman brought your beers in just this second. You each grabbed one and walked over to a table by the window. Getting out of your coats, you sat down.
"I love butterbeer," you mumbled after you took a sip. "Hogwarts should serve it more often."
"It wouldn't be special to you then," Malfoy replied.
"Maybe," you shrugged.
When Malfoy lifted his mug to take another sip, your eyes fell onto his hand. A loosely tied bandage was wrapped around it.
"What happened with your hand?", you asked with worry.
"Nothing, stupid accident," Malfoy put the mug back down. Once again, you didn't believe him.
"Why didn't you go to Madame Pomfrey?", you didn't let go of the topic.
"It's nothing."
You sighed, leaning back against your chair. "Malfoy, what is up with you?"
"Nothing."
Well, that seemed to be his favorite word today.
"How did you get the letter in?", he quickly changed the subject.
You stared at him through narrowed eyes, seeing through this attempt. Something happened yesterday. You were sure of it. "Zabini," you finally answered his question. "It was really awkward. I practically lingered in front of your house entrance and waited until someone familiar came my way."
A faint smirk appeared on Malfoys face. You were relieved to see it.
"I thought he gave it to you?"
"He must've come in when I was asleep," Malfoy explained. "I saw it this morning on my nightstand."
"That explains why you were late."
He nodded.
"How did they react?", you finally asked. You were curious about the Slytherins and expected anything: from them kicking Malfoy out of the house to not caring at all. "Your friends? Greengrass?"
Malfoy took some time to answer. He stared into his mug and you wondered if this had something to do with his odd behavior. "They asked me a bunch of questions and that was it." After a brief pause, he added: "Astoria was pissed. As I expected her to be."
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Same with my friends. They didn't understand it."
"How could they? I don't even get it," he shook his head. "Playing pretend with a Gryffindor."
"Stop saying the name of my house like it's a disease."
"It isn't?", Malfoy looked at you with surprise.
You snorted. "I could do the same with your house."
"No, not really," he shrugged. "My house is the greatest." And there it finally was – that Malfoy smirk, that made the knees of dozens of girls at Hogwarts go weak.
"Right, Malfoy," you winked at him. "Keep telling yourself that."
"Now, to the more important questions," Malfoy continued. "How did the Weasel react?"
You took another sip of your drink. "Don't know yet. Haven't seen him all day yesterday."
"Interesting." He leaned back against the chair and you saw how he started to relax more. "We might see his reaction today then. That'll be fun."
"Oh yes," you agree and nod eagerly. "He'll be fuming."
Malfoy watched you with an unreadable expression on his face, still smirking.
"What?", you asked nervously.
"I don't know," he crossed his legs. "I still don't get you."
"What do you mean?"
"You can have anyone at Hogwarts and yet you choose him," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I don't get it."
You were oddly flattered by this hidden compliment – and confused as to why he made you compliment at all. "First of all, we talked about this," you began. "Secondly, I don't want him anymore. And lastly, thanks, but I really can't have anyone."
"First of all," Malfoy mimicked you, "we'll talk about it again until I understand it. Secondly, I don't believe you why else would you be so obsessed with that red-haired looser and lastly, yes you can."
"I'm not obsessed with him!", you protested.
"A little," Malfoy made a gesture with his thumb and second finger, demonstrating how little.
"Absolutely not!"
"Uhm, yes, you are. It's embarrassing."
"And," you cut him off, desperately trying to change the subject. "I can't have the Slytherins." As if this proved any point at all, you looked at him triumphantly.
He watched you, completely unimpressed. "Yes, you can. Most of them probably wouldn't marry you but –"
" – but I'd be good enough for a few nights of fun?", you raised your eyebrows.
He nodded. "Maybe even a few months of dating."
"Oh, how generous," you rolled your eyes.
"That's more than the Weasel gave you."
"Ouch!", you dramatically placed a hand over your heart. You didn't want to admit it – but he was right.
You sat together in the Three Broomsticks for at least an hour. Both of you began to feel more and more relaxed, the awkwardness from the previous day slowly vanishing. Maybe because this didn't feel like you were put on the spot and had to pretend anything. You didn't try and act like a couple, you just sat in front of each other ... and talked. A little color returned to Malfoy's cheeks and you were glad to see it. Whatever hurt him was forgotten, even if it was just for a few moments.
The conversation went surprisingly easy, sprinkled with sarcasm and teasing, both making fun of the other but never in a hurtful way. It was fun and actually enjoyable. Of course, this wasn't the first experience you had with Malfoy that felt so easy but it surprised you nonetheless. Because with every passing minute, you seemed to forget who really sat in front of you. The houses, the families, nothing mattered. Right now, you were simply two teenagers who shared a drink and a few funny stories together.
It was all good until you decided to share a little anecdote about your mother and her fear of spiders when Malfoy suddenly asked: "You have a sister, right?"
Your smile froze as you stared at him. He knew. You could see it in his eyes. Pity. Who told him? Who else knew except for your friends? You closed your mouth and swallowed hardly when you slowly got up.
"Nevermind," Malfoy sensed that he had overstepped. "Forget it. Sit back down. I'm sorry."
If it was any other situation, you'd be surprised that he apologized to you. In fact, this was already the second time he had said those words since the beginning of the year. The only two times since you met him, really.
"It's fine," you said a little distraught. "I'll just go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."
He knew.
What now?, you wondered. How were you supposed to react? You didn't want to tell him. No, you didn't want to speak about it at all. It took you completely off-guard. The way to the bathroom seemed blurry as you were so wrapped up in your thoughts. You didn't hear the door opening and didn't feel the cold air flowing in. Only when you almost bumped into a group of people, you looked up.
Your eyes widened when you saw who stood in front of you. Beautiful, long, dark hair, covered in snowflakes and eyes that wanted to kill you: Astoria Greengrass.
"Oh, sorry," you mumbled.
Then the door opened once again and a second group of people stepped inside. You saw Hermione, Harry ... and Ron.
Fuck.