Disclaimer: See first chapter.
"I don't know who to trust no surprise, (Everyone feels so far away from me), Happy thoughts sift through dust and the lies, (Trying not to break but I'm so tired of this deceit), (Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet), (All I ever think about is this), (All the tiring time between), (And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me)"
Draco must've just gotten back from his last class when he began pounding on my door. "Wait, Malfoy," I call to him. I'm getting dressed to go for a run around the lake.
"There was another attack, Granger."
I stop searching for my scarf in the closet so I can sit on the edge of my bed. Another? But there had been one just last week! My head spins.
"Granger?"
I get up after collecting myself and open the door. I'm surprised to see Draco looking as distraught as I feel.
"I'm going for a run, Malfoy," I tell him.
"Four Muggles dead," Draco continues as if he hasn't heard.
"If you see my red scarf, put it on my couch, alright?"
"Another six injured, suspected Death Eaters." I notice he's reading from The Daily Prophet. I glare at him, before turning and opening the portrait.
"It's going to snow within the hour, Granger," Draco calls after me. I think he keeps calling me, but I'm not sure.
It's a huge relief to be outside, the cold air clears my head. The lake is almost frozen over as it's the very beginning of December now. Running is something I took up last year, when I noticed a few others doing it. There's no one outside today, of course. It's very cold, and it takes me a few minutes to get warm even in my sweats. There's a little snow on the ground. Draco was right, it does look like we'll be getting more.
A moment later, just as I reach the far side of the lake, I hear someone running up behind me. It's Draco, come to run with me, I suppose, as he's no longer wearing his school robes. He's holding something red in his hand, my scarf. I gratefully wrap it around my neck.
"Look, I'm sorry, Granger-"
"Doesn't matter," I cut him off.
"No, it does. Can we sit?"
There were benches up all around the lake. The first one put in had been in memory of Cedric Diggory, and, as more had been killed, more benches had been put in. Few were students; most were family members. Draco and I sat on one that read: In Loving Memory of Ian and Esmerelda Bones.
We're both breathing hard. Every once and awhile, there's movement under the ice. Must be the squid getting restless.
"Any plans for the holiday, Malfoy?" I venture.
"Nah, yourself?"
"Going home."
After some silence, he asks, "Heard from Potter?"
I give him a sharp look. "Look, Malfoy, give me one reason why I should trust you."
He holds his arms up in surrender. His breathing lets out little puffs of smoke, like his namesake. "You're right, I've given you no reason to." He gets up and starts jogging away from me, back towards the castle. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Screw him anyway. None of his business. Deep down, I know Malfoy isn't the future Dark Lord. Deep down I know he's changed too much the past few years to be taking Death Eater lessons and such.
But there was too much crap the past six years to let it all go in an instant.
When I get back to the tower, I find our Common room empty. I'm playing something on the piano when I hear a clear voice say, "Romeo", our password. Yeah, Draco picked this week. He's holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and is almost smiling.
"Continue, that was nice," he says.
I keep playing a low, stormy piece, one who's name I've forgotten over time. Draco sits down next to me, and adds a light, high-pitched melody.
"You've got a great ear, Malfoy."
"Call me Draco."
"I don't know who to trust no surprise, (Everyone feels so far away from me), Happy thoughts sift through dust and the lies, (Trying not to break but I'm so tired of this deceit), (Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet), (All I ever think about is this), (All the tiring time between), (And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me)"
Draco must've just gotten back from his last class when he began pounding on my door. "Wait, Malfoy," I call to him. I'm getting dressed to go for a run around the lake.
"There was another attack, Granger."
I stop searching for my scarf in the closet so I can sit on the edge of my bed. Another? But there had been one just last week! My head spins.
"Granger?"
I get up after collecting myself and open the door. I'm surprised to see Draco looking as distraught as I feel.
"I'm going for a run, Malfoy," I tell him.
"Four Muggles dead," Draco continues as if he hasn't heard.
"If you see my red scarf, put it on my couch, alright?"
"Another six injured, suspected Death Eaters." I notice he's reading from The Daily Prophet. I glare at him, before turning and opening the portrait.
"It's going to snow within the hour, Granger," Draco calls after me. I think he keeps calling me, but I'm not sure.
It's a huge relief to be outside, the cold air clears my head. The lake is almost frozen over as it's the very beginning of December now. Running is something I took up last year, when I noticed a few others doing it. There's no one outside today, of course. It's very cold, and it takes me a few minutes to get warm even in my sweats. There's a little snow on the ground. Draco was right, it does look like we'll be getting more.
A moment later, just as I reach the far side of the lake, I hear someone running up behind me. It's Draco, come to run with me, I suppose, as he's no longer wearing his school robes. He's holding something red in his hand, my scarf. I gratefully wrap it around my neck.
"Look, I'm sorry, Granger-"
"Doesn't matter," I cut him off.
"No, it does. Can we sit?"
There were benches up all around the lake. The first one put in had been in memory of Cedric Diggory, and, as more had been killed, more benches had been put in. Few were students; most were family members. Draco and I sat on one that read: In Loving Memory of Ian and Esmerelda Bones.
We're both breathing hard. Every once and awhile, there's movement under the ice. Must be the squid getting restless.
"Any plans for the holiday, Malfoy?" I venture.
"Nah, yourself?"
"Going home."
After some silence, he asks, "Heard from Potter?"
I give him a sharp look. "Look, Malfoy, give me one reason why I should trust you."
He holds his arms up in surrender. His breathing lets out little puffs of smoke, like his namesake. "You're right, I've given you no reason to." He gets up and starts jogging away from me, back towards the castle. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Screw him anyway. None of his business. Deep down, I know Malfoy isn't the future Dark Lord. Deep down I know he's changed too much the past few years to be taking Death Eater lessons and such.
But there was too much crap the past six years to let it all go in an instant.
When I get back to the tower, I find our Common room empty. I'm playing something on the piano when I hear a clear voice say, "Romeo", our password. Yeah, Draco picked this week. He's holding two mugs of hot chocolate, and is almost smiling.
"Continue, that was nice," he says.
I keep playing a low, stormy piece, one who's name I've forgotten over time. Draco sits down next to me, and adds a light, high-pitched melody.
"You've got a great ear, Malfoy."
"Call me Draco."