34

Olivia

"You're a loser." Rhys grumbled, sitting next to me at lunch on Monday. She hadn't been talking to me for a week or two so I was thoroughly surprised by this. Rhys usually got over fights after a while but I wasn't sure if she would come back from this one.

"I know." I said, bumping her shoulder lightly. She didn't rip off my head which was a good sign. Her hair was it's normal brown which meant she was in a forgiving mood so I accepted her growl and her elbow in my side.

"Did you kiss him yet?" She asked, not even looking at me.

"Last night actually." I replied quietly. We were sitting at the Slytherin table and I had already scanned it to find Draco but he wasn't there. It wasn't unusual for him to skip lunch but I hadn't seen him at breakfast either. Or in class.

"How do you trust him?" She didn't sound accusing like the last time we talked. Now she just seemed confused. I didn't blame her. I could still hardly believe it.

"You can tell he wants to change. The way he smiles, it's not that smug grin anymore. He doesn't sneer or joke or make rude comments. He barely talks to anyone except for me. I get it, Rhys. Not all of it but the Slytherin parts. He doesn't want to be a bad guy anymore and that's something we all have to deal with whether we were Death Eaters or not."

Rhys frowned, poking at the food on her plate. She never had to worry about being evil. She was a Hufflepuff which meant her worst stereotype was a pushover and by the look on her face, everyone knows she's anything but. Being a Slytherin was foreign to her.

"Do you love him?" She asked.

"It's only been a few months." I said incredulously, as if the question is ridiculous. Somehow it doesn't feel so ridiculous when I really think about it.

"Could you love him? In the future?"

"Yes." I don't hesitate. I could love Draco Malfoy.

"You're a loser."

"I know."

I left lunch early to try and find Draco. I tried not to be worried as I paced the hallways but it was impossible. He was unpredictable at best and there were plenty of places he could be. It wasn't necessary for him to tell me where he goes but it still didn't make me feel better. It was like being on the edge of a cliff an trusting that I won't fall off.

I made my way down into the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was. It was freezing down there and especially so since it had started snowing like crazy the night before. The students had come up with different ways to keep the stone halls warm while we passed through and each design worked better than the next. The latest creation was simple. Just some torches hanging from the walls that had charms on them to radiate the heat farther. They gave the dungeons a warm glow.

I walked the length of the passages, listening for any sounds or anything. It wasn't until I was at the end of my patience that I finally heard something. I thought it was one of the ghosts at first but usually they stopped once they knew someone was there. But the groaning kept going.

I pulled out my wand and ran toward the noise. It sounded like someone was hurt and I prayed it wasn't Draco. I prayed that I wouldn't see his blonde head and his pale eyes and blood. But I turned a corner and there he was, the torches around him out, leaving him in the dark.

I nearly slid to get beside him, furiously lighting the torches again so i could see the damage. I didn't need light to know that there was blood everywhere though. I could feel it beneath my hands and knees. The smell made me want to throw up.

"Draco, look at me." I whispered frantically, holding his face in my hands. He had dark red stains over his wrists and bruises all over his face. There was huge gash over his temple, streaking his pale skin with red.

"Olivia." He mumbled, his eyes opening just a bit. I ignored the stinging in my eyes and tried to figure out what to do but everything seemed like it had fallen apart. I didn't know what to do. I could barely figure out how to breathe.

"It's me, I'm here." His put his hand over mine and rubbed his thumb over the top of my hand as if he wasn't covered in blood and almost unconscious. He smiled up at me.

"I was thinking about you." He muttered. "Before they came I was thinking about how mad you would be if you found out. I couldn't tell you because you wouldn't like it. I couldn't do that to you."

"Who came? What are you talking about?" The words became more frantic and I couldn't stop the tears from rushing out. Classes had to be starting soon, right? Someone would find us. They had to.

"I can't tell you, Liv." Draco said, shaking his head. "No, no, no."

Oh god. How could we go from kissing in his dormitory to laying on the dungeon floor in a pool of blood? How does that even happen? Of course, when everything seems good it gets worse than you ever expected.

"Miss Tellson!" Slughorn exclaimed suddenly. There was a crowd of first years behind him, wide eyed and staring and the professor himself, wide eyed and staring. "What happened here!"

"How did this all happen?" Madam Pomfrey asked, pushing potions down Draco's throat and pointing her wand around different places. I could only stand there and watch.

"I don't know. He couldn't tell me anything."

"And where was Mr. Malfoy?"

"In the dungeons."

Draco was lying in one of the hospital bed, totally unconscious now. Madam Pomfrey dabbed at the cut on his forehead before dismissing it and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. They were soaked in red all the way to his elbows. I didn't want to believe it but the evidence was all there.

There were little cut marks all up his arm. There was blood everywhere and Madam Pomfrey didn't look surprised. She turned to me with a sad look on her face.

"Go back to class, Miss Tellson. Tell your teacher that I'm the reason you're late. You can visit him in the afternoon. "

I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stand in that same spot and make sure he was OK. It wanted to see the cuts heal and the bruises to fade and wanted Draco to smile at me like always. I didn't want to move.

"Olivia. Go." Madam Pomfrey was firmer now, sending me a sharp look that meant she wasn't kidding. I always liked Madam Pomfrey. She was tough when she needed to be. "And wash the blood off your hands."

That probably wasn't the weirdest thing I had heard that week.