Hello everyone,
Here's a little two-shot that I absolutely adored and wanted to translate. It is originally written in french by "D. would" who is just an super amazing author.
You can check my profile the original version of this two-shot as "Journal intime de Ron Weasley et Draco Malefoy" on my favorite stories list.
And thanks to IcarusWing for her wonderful beta-reading.
Disclaimer : J.K.R owns the characters and the world of Harry Potter. "D. would" owns the story and the plot . I'm just translating.
The Very Secret Diary of Ronald Weasley
October 2nd
This evening, I found his scarf, forgotten on a wall in the paved courtyard. I was coming back, feet muddy, to the castle, my Cleansweep on my shoulder. The Quidditch training had, once again, been a failure because of me. I could still feel their supportive slaps on my back, but those words of hollow and vain comfort were shooting me down more than anything. I was scared to death, I must confess. I'm scared of the next match that seems to be coming as fast as a Golden Snitch.
I didn't go in the locker room to take a shower or change my clothes. I didn't want to see their eyes full of reproach on my poor performances. I didn't want it, no. So I mumbled an excuse and ran away. It was raining and my clothes were sticking to my skin unpleasantly. I just wanted to return to my dormitory and take a shower and lull in his arms. But disregarding the fact that I was unable to touch him, I was able to smell his scent.
I saw him disappear through a heavy wooden door, his friends following in his wake. They didn't see me. This evening, the dinner was a specialty of the magicians of Salem, whose desserts were much appreciated. My stomach growled. However, I heard no more as soon as I saw what they had left behind. A scarf. That scarf. His scarf.
I was so amazed that I stayed motionless, stuck in my surprise. I looked right and then left. I turned on the spot. I narrowed my eyes. I checked that nobody was coming and I slowly approached as I had seen Crookshanks do when he found prey worthy of his attention. I dropped my broom. Nothing mattered more at this second, not even Quidditch.
My gloves were dirty. Ditto for my fingers. So I didn't touch the scarf. I have looked at it for a long time as if it was some bewitched object that was particularly powerful. I watched this scarf as if over a Pensieve. I thought of all that while watching this discarded scarf that I did not dare touch. Touch this scarf would be like touching his neck and the outline of his face, right?
I pulled my wand from the inside pocket of my cloak and I stirred it in the air: it was the first time in my life I actually managed to cast a spell of appearance. It was my satchel. I opened it mechanically and grabbed a piece of the cloak to take the scarf and put it inside.
I don't even remember going through the castle trotting, the strap of my bag on my shoulder and my broom under my arm. Traces of mud magically faded behind me. I literally screamed the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady. I didn't care. I had a small piece of him in my bag. I pretended not to see Hermione who was sitting by the fire waiting for me. Later. I shot straight to the boys' dormitory, put my bag in my double-locked trunk while Dean and Seamus were speaking with about the upcoming album of the Weird Sisters.
I slipped into the shower and I don't remember ever having taken so much time and so much precaution to wash every inch of my skin. I wanted to be as clean as possible. I don't want the mud to stain the scarf and alter its smell or - worse - that mine embeds itself in the meshes of the wool, and then disturb the perfume.
I put on my pajamas lopsided. I opened my trunk, took my bag and I lied in my bed after closing the curtains. When I undid the zip, I felt like the first wizard to open a pharaoh's tomb. I felt like Dumbledore after discovering the Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood. I had the illusion of being Nicolas Flamel when he developed the Philosopher's Stone. I had it in me all at once.
The first time my fingers touched the scarf, I jumped as if the piece of cloth was alive ... Yes, it was living in a certain way. Living since he had worn it. I closed my eyes to savor every second. I breathed deeply. I could do this forever. I imagined his neck surrounded by this scarf. I imagined my fingers instead of it flying over his skin. I imagined him blushing at this volatile caress and push me away growling. And I smiled.
My peace was disturbed by the ruckus that the guys were making: they were singing A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by Celestina Warbeck, taking the most seductive tone possible.
Oh, come and stir my cauldron
And if you do it right
I'll boil you up some hot, strong love
To keep you warm tonight
And I smiled again. I took the scarf and put it under my nose. It was ... it was the first time in my life I smelled something like that. It was him. I closed my eyes and his picture slipped under my eyelashes. I could easily see him, my face nestled in his neck and breathing his smell but...
Here, the but arrives. The catch: it hurts to love, even more when it was absolutely not shared. I know what you're going to think: "If you give yourself the means, you might get your chance", "Go talk to him instead of fantasizing with your eyes wide open", "Nothing is impossible" etc.. You know, I think you would certainly be right in other circumstances. But - still that hateful but - in love, everything is a special case. If I let him see just a little fragment of me, of the real Ron, I think I would be broken. He would break me - consciously or unconsciously, I don't give a damn. He will hurt me. Yet, I know I'll be fine there in his arms ... so far ...
So, to bail myself out, to support the ongoing pressure of the lessons and exams, the picturesque training of Quidditch, Umbridge, the lies of the Department, The D.A, the teasing of Fred and George, the letters of recommendation from Mom, the nightmares of Harry, Hermione and contempt the eyes of others ... I run away. I run with him. I run in a world where only we count. I run in a world that does not exist. A world that has been created from scratch in my head.
Whenever I feel bad, feeling lonely or remote from others, I close my eyes and begin to daydream. I think of him and it gives me a smile. I imagine what it must be like touching his skin, talking to him closely, laughing with him, kissing him ... I dream of many things with him, and in my dreams he replies with his best smile. He tells me that he loves me too.
I know it's silly, but it's the only way I've found to not blow up. I am happier in my dreams than in reality. Hermione would say that it is bad, that it would relapse even harder etc She's right. But what to do? What else to say? I already have more than enough problems, and honestly, I don't want to talk about it ... I don't want to speak about the unspeakable.
So once again, I close my eyes and let myself go against his scarf that's the color of his house. I embrace it and dream that he is very close, that I can feel him for real without any means of substitution. I'm wrapped in my blanket and I find myself holding him well, his scarf - against me.
And I smiled at the thought that he must already be back to his common room to find his, my - our? - little treasure that was this scarf.
Another ordinary day for your dear Ron.
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October 3rd
This morning, he seemed really moody. I's very cold, you know, at this moment. So not having a scarf is surely very irrating for him. I had some qualms about the idea of having his scarf locked in my trunk in my dormitory. I did not stop to rethink of its smell. For the first time, since the beginning of the year, I slept on my two ears) and with a smile to boot! Yes, I was happy, very happy! Hermione did not want to speak to me all day, certainly because she got upset by my attitude from the other night. It was nothing, anyway.
We first had History of Magic. The old Binns still managed to fall asleep. I dreamed that he and I were revising together our O.W.L.s and we could still have fun. In my dream, he touched my hand while turning a page. I still felt the feeling of his fingers running over my skin. All day, I stood there like a groupie, thoughtfully touching my hand with my blue eyes wide open. You see, I discovered a new side of me : when I'm in love, I get to do anything. Oh, it adds nothing good to my natural shyness and the fact that I was never very confident...
Afterwards, Harry, Hermione, and I crossed him in the corridor. Harry and him passed cold glances. The time had stopped for them. Hermione tried to calm Harry when a provocation was made. And I was there, in the background. I no longer existed. Even if I was blaming Harry for being so close to him in some way, well, I'm glad that they argue sometimes. It was in these moments, where he was close enough, that I could scrutinize him.
Well, today I noticed that he had beautiful hands. Manicured hands, but still masculine, and nails clean. Next to him, I look like a rustic from the countryside. So as soon as I finish my sky chart for Professor Sinistra, I'll go in the bathroom to treat my hands. It's silly, really. Nobody would notice. But I want to make this effort for him and tell myself that, maybe, I'm good enough.
Fondly,
Ron.
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October 10th
Hands clean, I thought I would have time to touch Draco's scarf before going to class. It wasn't possible because I got lost in my dreams once again. I arrived late to Charms. Professor Flitwick gave me extra homework again. For some time, you understand, my mind was rather occupied.
The fact of falling in love with Draco obviously did not help. You see, I've always felt something for him. I do not know why him rather than another. But his little detestable air has always fascinated me. I hope that this is only a cover; that he is not like that every day. But nothing makes me think otherwise ...
I desperate a little sometimes. I think I'm dreaming in the void, that my hopes are useless, that my life is empty. Depressing, you see. But I must pull myself together! This is not the time to give up: I have a sentimental war to lead.
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October 14th
He is sick. I saw him being taken to the hospital this afternoon. Draco was taken by a violent coughing fit. Quidditch, I heard him say as justification. Something shook my bowels. I felt really bad for having taking his scarf. And, why did not he ask for a new one from his mother or Snape? But, you see Diary, I did not think this on the spot - as usual. I saw him go coming back this afternoon. We were having double-Herbology courses. When he came close to me to get a pair of shears, I told him softly:
"I can give you my scarf if you want?"
He looked at me with big eyes and took scornful look - the one I love so much. Draco then started coughing to give a pretext that all the area around released a putrid air. I've never felt so bad. Well, I already had, the time when Mom saw snaps in the crotch of my underpants and asked loudly what I could possibly do with them.
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October 23rd
I have not dared to touch Draco's scarf again. It's in my trunk gathering dust. I'm so ashamed for having said such a thing ...Hell! Why did I open my mouth?
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November 4th
Harry and Draco had a fight again. They took as pretext for one, to defend me, for the other that my hair had a color that should be banned. I tried to separate them, but in vain. I even took a punch in the fight in addition a detention courtesy of Snape. Tomorrow, I will probably spend my evening cleaning cauldrons. But regardless, this will allow me at least to spend time outside the Common Room.
Fred and George have created a revelation potion that allows one to know whether his heart is taken or not. It seems that Harry is also in love. Hermione, she thinks that the test is unreliable. She put the potion in the milk of Crookshanks and he, after the test, seems to have a thunderbolt too. In any case, I narrowly escaped the general revelation potion tour that had grenadine to taste! I can already imagine the disaster it would be if they could read in my heart today.
You know, Diary, as time passes, as my feelings for him grow stronger. Blame the hormones and my fetish for blond hair. For two days, Draco did not put hair gel. He's too busy with the Inquisitorial Squad. It's always rough, and he looks preoccupied. I think he wants to do his job very well - even if it is Umbridge that he serves. At least, I can add a quality to the table: conscientious.
Oh, I almost forgot! He is no longer sick and he has a gray scarf that reminds the color of his eyes. When he passed by our table in the Great Hall, my mouth was ajar, and he told me: "Watch out Weasley, you'll swallow a Remembrall ." At least this time, he remembered my name. And he saw me! Me, the insignificant guy, the shadow of his nemesis! I felt weird all day after that. Of course, "Weasley" was always an insult out of his mouth, but at least, it gave me the illusion of existance for few seconds.
I still have not finished my Charms homework and I still do not want to do it. Tonight, I want to join my bed and sleep, holding Draco's scarf tight against me. I miss it too much! I heard that he wanted to work at the Ministry after Hogwarts and that is why he took his O.W.L.s very seriously. I easily imagine us crossing in the corridors of the Ministry.
Yes, nobody knows it yet, Diary, but I'd love to become an Auror. Nobody believes I'll be able to do it for the simple reason that I'm a complete loser. But I keep this desire deep within myself and, maybe, one day I'll have the chance to be part of a squad! I can see Draco in the Department of International Relations - with his charisma, his presence, his air of superiority, this little everything ...
I imagine being recruited for an exceptional escort mission where I should take him to neutral ground for a diplomatic mission. I'm his bodyguard and I take my job to heart. We'll share the same hotel room for greater safety ... I'll tell him "Good night, Malfoy," and he'll reply "I'm cold, Weasley." But not a "Weasley," that sounds wicked. A "Weasley" that's soft, tender, full of expectation a bit like me in this very moment.
Tomorrow, I'll try to cross Draco. I will not talk but I just want to see him. Harry and Hermione won't understand this need, so I'll make sure to get them to their destination. Let me have just a second to see him. I don't care if he insults me on my way.
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November 28th
He saw me! Yes, of course he saw me. What an idiot I can be sometimes! We were on the fifth floor, waiting for the Charms course to start when he walked in front of us. The world began to sway when he threw me a glance without stopping. I feel lighter than air. I've got the impression of gliding. All the symptoms of a guy in love, see! The worst part about it is, that maybe he was watching the tapestry behind me. I do not know. I do not care. Because Draco Malfoy looked at me or seemed to.
Postscript: Diary, do you have some calming potions for me?
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December 23rd
I have not eaten tonight, Diary. My stomach is knotted. I cannot swallow anything. Draco has got a girlfriend.
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December 29th
It will be six days since I started observing Astoria Greengrass extensively and I have to finally admit that she is rather pretty. Draco has got a good taste. I'm trying to get used to the idea that it's her and not me, that it's with her that he'll review the year-end exams, that it's with her that he laughs sometimes, that it's with her that he'll go out to Hogsmeade the next time, that it's with her that he finishes his homework, that is with her that he shares his secrets, that it is with her that ... he makes love.
I've always wondered if Draco had any experience in this field. And I also wonder if he does this kind of thing with Astoria. At any case, it's not to me that he would tell it, but...since they are together I have an unhealthy curiosity. As for me, I've never kissed anyone: I do not draw crowds. And I think someone who isn't comfortable with himself is smelled for miles around, so nobody comes to me.
Oh, of course, Fleur has already kissed me on the cheek, but I'm talking about a real kiss ... something that leads you to far from here. Well, all the stuff in those romance novels that Mom read and that I steal from her sometimes, to learn things. Fred and George say that a kiss is horrible. Since then, I am terribly afraid but I'm also curious. Harry has already kissed Cho Chang before Christmas holiday and Hermione had a romance with Viktor Krum. And I'm here, as notorious junk is not even good for being kissed by a runny frog.
Before entering potions room clean since I had my detention in it I saw Draco lay his lips on Astoria Greengrass'. I've literally stared at them. Astoria made a disgusted grimace when she saw me and I blushed to the ears (the typical Weasleyian reflex). How did Draco respond? Well, true to himself, He asked me to stop ogling his girlfriend. As if it was his girlfriend that interested me ...
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January 7th
Draco was able to strengthen my discomfort. He made a point during the meal tonight. He told me that I eat like a hungry poor. He also said I was disgusting and that even Harry deserved better company. What did I say? Nothing. I let it be by turning red from shame. I didn't have my nose up to my plate for the rest of dinner.
Hermione whispered that he was a moron and I don't have to listen to him. But my heart only listens to him. I must be crazy, in fact, to have set my heart on Draco. He is the guy who denigrated me since the first time he saw me. He immediately understood who I was and...where I belonged, to him.
In any case, the next meal, I will try to be more careful about how I eat. Maybe it will stop him from saying new unpleasant things about me. Finally, I do not know which is better: that he notices me or that he does not notice me?
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January 28th
I have not eaten much today - just enough to hold on. Hermione and Harry are so taken by the excitement of the second quarter that they didn't care. I emptied my plate with a simple Evanesco when they weren't watching me.
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January 31st
Three days with almost nothing solid swallowed. I drink lots of water to compensate.
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February 1st
Diary, I found myself at the nurse yesterday. I had a discomfort during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ironically, it was a double-course with the Slytherin. Umbridge wanted it to be Malfoy who'd accompany me to the nurse (as if Hermione was not a prefect worthy of the name!). But even if I liked Draco and I still love him! well, I did not want it to be him. I no longer want to see him that close.
He posted a disgusted look when he had to lift me. In the hallway, I released myself from his grip. After all, it was not really difficult: he was holding me like a leashed dog ... I walked very slowly, sometimes stumbling, holding myself to the edges of the frames. Draco was behind me, away. I could have esily go to the nurse by myself ; at least, the path would have been less burdensome.
And then, you know, Diary, I had a mad desire to cry in this corridor. I wanted to scream that it was for him that I got myself in such a state and he couldn't even fucking notice it. I wanted to ask him if Astoria was able to do such a thing for him, only for him. I wanted most of all to make him feel guilty. But, basically, I did not have this right: it is I ,alone, who decided to stop eating. Damn, I don't know what's happened to me...
Then he said, "Weasley, what exactly are you doing?" Was it not obvious that I was dragging myself to the infirmary? I didn't say anything. I didn't have the strength to ... He held me by the arm and I crossed his gray eyes. It was the first time since I knew him that I was so close to him. "I saw you empty your plate the other day," he continued. I told him that I didn't care after all, that he knows how my diet was not that important. "You should stop your ride before it turns bad." This phrase exasperated me: "Since when was a Malfoy concerned about the fate a Weasley?"?I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders and I thought I heard him say, "Times are changing."
Madam Pomphrey did really take good care of me. She made me read a brochure about eating disorders and told me to come to see her as soon as I don't feel good. It's true, I avoided the worst. All this to please a boy.
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February 5th
Diary, this little mishap at the hospital did not stop Draco from abusing me a week later. I think it's compulsive for him. This time, it's my shoes that were the victims of his attacks. They are not very nice shoes, but what can I do?
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February 13th
We won the Quidditch match. Fred, George and Harry fought against Draco. Draco is in the infirmary. They were banned from Quidditch by Umbridge. And nobody remembers that I played beautifully. In fact, it's always been Harry and Draco - nobody else. Tonight, Harry did not say a word. I tried to console him but he yelled outright at me. So I decided to talk to you, Diary. At least you don't scream. Tomorrow ... I don't know what I'll do. I'll surely do my homework on my bed, the curtains drawn. I'll wait until this year ends and the new arrives.
Postscript: Tomorrow is the day of lovers. Harry goes with Cho to Hogsmeade
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February 22nd
For the first time this year, I managed to give my homework in advance. I decided to put all my energy into my studies instead of thinking continuously about Draco. This seems to work because I have already been congratulated by Flitwick on Tuesday. I slowly begin to recover.
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March 2nd
Diary, I received an anonymous letter this morning. Well, a word is the most appropriate term. But someone wrote to me, to me, Ronald Weasley! They do not usually write to me! I am not subscribed to the Daily Prophet, nor the Quidditch Magazine, Mom sends letters to congratulate Ginny or reprimand the twins and I do not know anyone outside of the school so ... I have not read the letter in the Great Hall. I preferred to enjoy the moment and keep the letter as such. This could very well be a bad joke or a publicity stunt... but it did not matter someone had a thought for me, somewhere. I had my heart swelling throughout the day with the idea that the unknown paper inside my bag had been written not so long ago by a warm hand.
The same evening, I slipped under my blanket and I opened the letter. I loved it so much that I put it here, in my diary, set by a Prophet sticker:
"You seem to be really lonely lately, Ron. Don't shut yourself in your shell. It's better to see you smile. Courage.
My thoughts go with you,
A friend. "
I did not think having any friends outside of Harry and Hermione. Of course, there is Neville and Luna but ... they would not have written me. They would have told it to me face to face, right?
Postscript: Yesterday was my birthday. Everyone seemed to have forgotten it. But this little letter warms my heart.
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March 6th
Today I made the biggest bullshit of my whole life. I spent the evening thinking about the letter that was sent to me. I went to talk to Draco at the end of a course. About what? The letter, of course. I told him that I knew it was him. He widen his eyes, pretended not to know what I was talking about then laughed when I recited to him the letter. He said that we have never been friends ... It's true. I think my fantasies have spilled over into reality. I wanted it to be him so much... we could have I don't know exchanged letters, incognito.
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March 21st
Two weeks have passed and I read the letter every night. She breathes new energy into me. If this is not Draco, well, never mind. The main thing is the act rather than the person hiding behind. So I made a resolution: I will stop loving Draco Malfoy and the sooner the better.
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March 23rd
I went to see Draco at the end of his Quidditch training. I gave him back his scarf. He gave me a long stare before taking it. I told him that I had taken care it and that it was clean. I expected him at any moment to reject me saying that nothing in me was. But nothing. He did not say anything. He took the scarf, looked at it, and found that his initials were on the label. I do not think I've ever seen and so taken aback... and distraught. He gave it back to me and rolled away.
So, Diary, I stupidly raced after him to give it to him. He accelerated. I accelerated. We ended up running in the park like idiots for a fucking scarf. At the end, I stopped while laughing. He turned around and joined me. Draco asked me why I was laughing. I replied "You look like someone running for his life." I think he smiled. I was short of breath and I was a little bent, hands on my knees. It had been so long since I had not run like that ... he, he was doing very well.
He looked at me a moment, then bent down to my height and said softly, "What should I do for you to keep this damn scarf, Weasley? Wasn't I clear? I don't want it anymore." At this point, Diary, I stuttered a lot of things. I was shaking, too. "The letter, it was me," He said softly. Then he left. Merlin, my heart has never beat so fast. I would have thought I had dreamed it all up if Hermione hadn't rushed to me at my return, telling me that I absolutely had to finish my dissertation for the History of Magic.
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March 24th
My Lord, I've never slept so well! I can still see, time to time, the smile Draco had graced me with.
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March 25th
Harry had to shake me twice to rouse me from my thoughts. I was well there, in my thoughts with Draco. Oh, and I didn't tell you Diary! Draco broke up with Astoria Greengrass. I saw her crying on the other end of the Slytherin table this morning. She looked devastated. I think I smiled for the first time since ... A glimmer of hope has emerged in me even though I don't know why they broke up. The gossip says that Astoria was too sticky and Draco had had enough. At the same time, I understand why she is in this state...
Since then, I hope to continually meet the gaze of Draco. But he seems absorbed by the lesson when we have a common course, he is constantly surrounded by his band during the break, he spends most of his time in the common room, with Umbridge or his Quidditch team and at the meals he only pays attention to some of his comrades. Clearly, Ronald Weasley has disappeared from the collimator.
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March 26th
Diary, it is the Apocalypse! The revelation potion has landed in the glass Draco today. I do not know how Fred and George did it but the fact is that: Draco is in love. So, Astoria has rushed to him, shouting that she knew that their story was not finished. He repulsed by saying that the test was only a shit strangely, Hermione silently approved. Test can or not, Draco seemed embarrassed and left the Great Hall shortly after.
Postscript: He is cute when he blushes.
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March 29th
I decided to take the leads: I sent a letter to Draco signing by a distant member of his family not to arouse suspicion. Well, of our family. I learned this summer through the tapestry of the Black family, that I was a very distant cousin of Draco. I wonder if he knows by the way... In this letter I wrote to him that I loved him and that I was doing everything to stop it because it hurt. It was risky but if I did not do it, well, I would no longer be a true Gryffindor. Okay, he could use it to make fun of me until the end of my school career, but it will prove that he is immature and unworthy of my attention.
In any case, I cannot wait to see if he will answer me or not. I'll keep you updated, Diary!
I'll go read the 16th chapter of my potions' manual! Tomorrow, there is going to be an O.W.L.s mock exam and I hope to catch up with the theoretical test. I don't know when I can write again, but if something important happens, you'll be the first to know.
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March 30th
Diary... my hand trembles. Draco replied.
I'll come back tonight to write you what happened.
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March 30th - suite.
Well, I'm quiet - the boys went out to see the fireworks of Fred and George from the top of the tower. I have at least half an hour to myself me, I guess.
I was quietly leaving the Potions room when I felt something gripping my wrist. I found myself in a crevice, face to face with Draco. We waited for everyone to go and then he blew me: "So, you've succeeded?" I grumbled that it could be worse, but I have not been able to find the formula of demonstration. I was going to say in detail what I had answered question by question when I realized that it was a pretext to start the conversation. He took my face between his hands, he looked at me for a long time and then ... then I felt him coming closer and gently kisses me.
OK, I did not realize it at that time, but I had chills everywhere. I felt his body against mine. I told him that he was holding me too hard, that I choked. He laughed against my mouth and loosens his grip while continuing to kiss me. He then took me into a corner of the castle, behind the huge clock. Nobody ever came there and corridors were empty. I ditched Metamorphosis class and him, Charms class.
We sat in the spiral staircase that led to the engine room. I was going to ask why and how when he interrupted me by saying "It would be a shame that you stop loving me." "Why?" I asked him. "Because then it will not be reciprocated." Merlin, I'll remember it all my life. He stroked my neck for a moment and then kissed me again.
This time I responded to his kiss well, I tried with my limited knowledge in this field. I was miserable. His hand rose slowly through my hair to deepen the kiss. My Lord! I had the tongue of Draco Malfoy in my mouth. Yes, I am a groupie. I'm not ashamed. I waited this for too long.
Meanwhile, what have I done? Well, I stayed true to myself, and kept my hands along my body like a complete fool. I did not even know the places that I had the right to touch or not. I chose to not act rather than rush him.
In fact, we have not discussed Draco and me much. He preferred to spend his time looking at me strangely, putting his lips on mine and touching my hand. I was a little embarrassed. I think he felt that and stopped everything. He stood up and just told me see you tomorrow.
It is just an hour since I have left and I miss him already. Tomorrow seems so far.
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March 31st
I waited for Draco in the tower of the clock all afternoon. He did not come.
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April 2nd
This time, Draco and me, we met. He didn't tell me why he did not come last time. He did not kiss me. He seemed elsewhere. I'm afraid he already regrets what happened between us.
We talked about ordinary things - mostly about courses. He fled from my gaze. If I am unable to get him comfortable, he will go away, right?
However, it has just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED...