It feels like fifth year winter again. Just the two of us, taking long walks at night, our pinky fingers just barely interlaced. Though we only speak on occasion, I find myself falling deeper, deeper, deeper with every step.
One night as we walk, he suddenly speaks up, telling me that he told his mother he doesn't want to do it anymore. That he doesn't want to kill Dumbledore, and that he's scared, "It's just the truth, and I've learned I shouldn't hide from that."
I wrap myself in his arms. We stare out a window together, my head resting on his chest. The moon is full tonight, which he mentions. Each night, when we pass the large windows looking out at the sky, between Ravenclaw Tower and the Astronomy Tower, I tell him which phase the moon is in. He's awful at Astronomy, "Maybe one day I'll get you your bloody moon."
I laugh, "How? With a Confundus Charm?" I smile up at him, my chin on his chest. He's so much taller than me, and his blonde hair flops into his eyes as he gazes down at me.
"I'm serious," He frowns, "We could go on walks for hours, just around and around the moon. Sounds a lot better than this rubbish school."
"Have you had some firewhiskey tonight, Draco?" I chuckle, teasing him about how crazy that idea sounds, but he looks down at me seriously, not really getting the joke I'm trying to make. He brushes a stray piece of hair out of my eyes, his finger rubbing against my cheek.
"Do you believe me when I say that I'm not doing any of my orders anymore?" He asks out of nowhere. For a second, my thoughts waver, wondering if I really do believe him, "Because I promise you it's not who I want to be."
"Yes, I believe you." I graze my lips over his, not really knowing if I do believe him. I believe he doesn't want to be involved, but I know how much power his family has over him. I wonder how much of that comes from his father in Azkaban.
The poor boy.
Suddenly, a door slams open, and the two of us separate, rushing away from each other and moving to see what made that noise. Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall storm through the halls. Draco tries to run, pulling me along with him, but Dumbledore notices, and screams, "Malfoy!"
Draco stops in his tracks. What have you done?
"Come with us, you two. I can only imagine what you're doing out so late," Snape drawls, before whispering to Draco, "You'll be lucky if I can even get you out of this alive." My mind races. He lied to me. What has he done?
We are pulled through the halls, all the teachers glaring back at us every couple of seconds, just to make sure we're still there. We're brought to Dumbledore's office, where Harry and Professor Slughorn stand with concerned looks on their faces. When Harry sees me he looks like he's seen a ghost.
Dumbledore raises his voice, "Care to explain why the two of you are loitering around the halls after curfew?" The people on the pictures on the walls stop what they're doing to listen, interested.
"I can explain, Professor," I start, "We–"
"She's not involved," Draco says suddenly, his voice low, "She didn't do anything."
"So you admit to your crime, boy?" Slughorn hisses, his brow furrowing, "You've tried to kill Dumbledore!" I glance to Draco, begging. Begging him to give me the slightest look that he doesn't know what Slughorn's on about.
"Hold on, Horace," Dumbledore says, "Let me handle this. Malfoy, were you aware that a bottle mead purchased by Professor Slughorn that was intended for me was poisoned? Because Ronald Weasley's been poisoned as a result of your actions!" Ron? My mouth opens to protest, but Dumbledore assures me that he's well and safe in the hospital wing.
"I– No." Draco stutters, his face paling.
"Your wand had cast the Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks, who sold this spiked mead to Horace, is this correct?" Dumbledore's voice grows sharper and more angry by the minute, "Don't lie, boy."
"I was under the Imperius Curse as well." Draco says hurriedly. I hope he's telling the truth.
"Why have you not come clean about this earlier?"
"Because I don't know who did it." He speaks desperately. I don't think he's telling the truth. I think he knows who did it. And I think that person is him.
"Very well," Dumbledore presses his lips together, obviously fuming below the surface, "You'll have the benefit of the doubt. Forty points from Slytherin for being out past curfew. Do not repeat any of what you've heard here tonight. Snape will escort you back to your common room."
Draco doesn't even meet my eyes. Thirty minutes ago he was talking about walking on the moon together and now he's gone and done something horrible again.
Snape grabs us by our collars and leads us out of Dumbledore's office and through the halls that Draco and I have walked so many times at night. My feet lag behind the rest of my body as Snape moves so quickly through the halls that I barely have time to catch up, "Don't ever disgrace our house like that again." He says sharply, in his monotone voice at the entrance to the common room, "Or there will be...grave consequences." He eyes Draco.
I slip through the door to go to sleep, exhausted from the night I've had, and I realize Draco didn't follow behind me, probably getting a lecture.
I really hope he didn't lie to me. I wish I had more faith in him.