International Wizarding School Competition:

[School]: Durmstrang

[Year] Exchange 3

[Prompts]: (Perspective) First-person narrator

[Writing School]: Use each compound word-type at least once. And use one self-made, creative example of the hyphenated compound! Additionally, add at least one kinship address to your plot.

WC: 498 with 10% leeway

Lifting the Guilt

I watched from the door of my room as Draco paced back and forth. 'What did he want? ' I wondered as he clutched a notebook in his hands. He had been doing this a lot, and he didn't think I had noticed.

"Draco?" I asked as I walked into the Head's common room. We had been head boy and head girl for a few months now during our eighth year. "Is there something you want to say?" I urged him to speak his mind. We got on well enough, but when we were alone, something seemed to bother him. Like there was something he wanted to speak to me about but needed to work up the courage to do so.

"I'm fine," Draco said. "Just thinking about the charms homework." He lifted the notebook, but I was unconvinced. We didn't have any charms homework. Enough was enough, I would force him to talk to me if called for.

I sat down in the large red leather armchair and pointed to the sofa for him to sit down. "I can tell something is bothering you, please, tell me."

Draco looked conflicted, as if he wasn't sure whether to run or to do as I said. After what seemed like a moment of contemplation, he sat down and brushed his fingers through his silky-blonde hair.

"Hermione," he said, looking at me. His eyes were soulful, and I felt myself drawn in, yet again. "I need to apologise... for my Aunt Bella, for what she did to you." His eyes moved over to my scarred arm, where his lovely Aunt Bella had caved 'Mudblood' into it for the world to see.

"You don't have to apologise," I whispered and looked him in the eyes sincerely. "Your stark-raving-bat-crazy-aunt is gone now, and you were not responsible for her actions, please forgive yourself." I reached over and gripped his hand. He flinched for a moment, but relaxed and clasped mine back.

"But I was such a bully to you," he said, barely above a whisper, and I had to lean in to hear him. "I even called you that." His hand brushed the scar, and I shivered at the touch. It was gentle and loving, something I hadn't expected from the silver-haired Prince of Slytherin.

"You were," I agreed. "But you have made up for that with your actions these past few months. So please forgive yourself, I forgave you a long time ago." I smiled, and I saw a small smile grace his lips. I saw the weight lift off his shoulders and he looked lighter. Guilt had weighed him down for far too long, and I was happy to see it go.