Finding Herself || Draco Malfoy [BOOK 2]

Chapter 3

<<<TRIGGER WARNING>>>
<<<PANIC ATTACK AND MENTIONS OF ABUSE>>>

RECAP

"Maya?"

I looked up, mid-gulp, and spat out my water all over the kitchen table.

The boy standing in between the two boys was none other than Dean freaking Thomas.

What. Are. The. Odds.

~~~

"What are you doing here? It's been five days!" Asked Dean incredulously, just staring at me. "Everyone's been worried sick!"

"I could ask you the same question," I thought.

I stared at Dean in shock, not knowing what to do. Dean Thomas, the boy who one of my best friends was practically in love with, was standing in the same room as me in a muggle house after I'd gotten away from Death Eaters. What are the odds?

Water dribbled down my chin, and I blushed hard, realizing how much of a mess I'd just made.

"Sorry," I forced out, avoiding eye contact with the three boys. Both Dustin and Matt looked dreadfully confused. I quickly got up out of my chair to get the paper towels and furiously started wiping up the water that I'd spat out.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" asked Dean. He looked both confused, yet relieved at the same time. "How the hell did you end up here?"

"Um...you two know each other?" asked Matt awkwardly.

"We go to the same school and our term just ended yesterday," said Dean, shortly. "Can I talk to you?"

"Talk to me? What are you doing here? How do you know these people? Is Harry okay? What happened with Snape?" I thought. I opened my mouth to let out a sentence, but all I could let out was a small puff of air.

"Idiot," said my conscience. "You learned how to speak when you were one, and you're fourteen. Get it together."

I let out a frustrated groan.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Dean.

"She isn't very talkative," explained Dustin, still looking at Dean with confusion.

"Maya? Isn't talkative?" asked Dean, his face twisting into more confusion. "But you..."

Dean's voice trailed off and shook his head.

"You know what, that isn't the point," said Dean. He marched up to me and held out his hand for me to take, and after a moment of hesitation, I did.

"We'll be back," said Dean, and before he dragged me out of the back door of the house, I grabbed the notepad and pen. I figured that there would be a lot of explaining I had to do.

We left a very confused Matt and Dustin in the kitchen, as Dean Thomas dragged me into the Morrison's backyard. He sat me down on a log right at the edge of the forest, close enough that the Morrisons could see us but not close enough to where they could hear us.

He looked into my eyes, looking for some sort of explanation.

"You look dead," said Dean, bluntly. "You've literally got bags the size of spoons under your eyes."

"He and Blaise are meant for each other, I swear," I thought.

I narrowed my eyes at him and scowled.