9- Draco POV
I walked into the common room I shared with Granger. The game was too loud and I had better things to do anyway. I flopped, undignified, over the back of the couch, fully intending to take a nap. Only someone was already there.
I jumped up, apologies stumbling from my mouth, expecting that I'd just laid on top of Granger, but it was Potter. I felt an immense wave of remorse flood through my head, so strong that I felt like the background emotions weren't supposed to slip through to me.
I grasped my temples, "Please don't do that. I have my shields up, and you break them down so fast it hurts."
The wave intensified as if by reflex before it vanished completely. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. When I looked at Potter, he was just sitting on the couch, curled with his knees up to his chest and watching me. I felt like he was making room for me to sit if I wanted to, but cautious and ready to move if I didn't want him there. Either reaction felt equally welcome.
"Why don't you talk?"
He flinched, and I felt bad. Looking at him, I could tell he'd been crying recently, and I wondered if he was here for Granger and if I should go get her. Better to ask.
When I did, Potter shook his head, but still didn't talk. "Do you want me to leave you alone or…?" I asked, unsure, and vaguely wishing I'd just gone to my room for a nap instead.
Potter just shrugged so I started to walk away. I was nearly to my doorway before I heard him sniff. I turned back to see he hadn't moved but was crying again. He sniffed again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. I cringed. That was disgusting.
"Here," I gave him my handkerchief, standing in front of him again. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong? Talk about it?"
He shook his head vehemently so I sighed and dropped my shields, feeling my face distort as I said, "You can show me if you want."
Before I knew what was happening I saw a door trying to shut. It blew back open and a redhead woman was screaming, but I couldn't hear it. A flash of green spit in front of me, and the woman crumpled to the floor, revealing a baby in a crib just beyond her. The sound caught up, and I could tell it was what she had been saying moments ago. "James! Not Harry, not my baby, not HaRRRRRYYYYYYYY!" The baby was just breathing calmly, not understanding but still crying, as the name spun higher and higher pitched. A new light shot out and struck the child, shattering, and a splinter came rushing back at me.
Suddenly I was standing back in the common room, something Granger had said coming back to me. 'Or the fact that every time a dementor is around he relives his parents' murder - something you mercilessly mocked him for I might add.'
This was that memory then. He must see it through He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's eyes. I shuddered, looking up from my feet. Potter was sobbing.
I don't know why, but I sat down next to him, pulling him into my arms like my mother had done to me when the Dark Lord had been torturing someone where we could hear. I stroked his hair and hushed him as he whimpered.
"I just want to disappear."