Limerence; Draco Malfoy

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Endearing

"I'm taking you to see the fireworks, tonight. . ."

Violet

It was quite possibly the slowest boxing day I'd ever endured.

After Draco had gone, I was left with an empty mansion, an empty feeling in my stomach and with absolutely nothing to do. I ended up seeking out the library, eventually: Reading always made time glide by, and getting lost in another world meant I wouldn't have to think about Draco, Voldemort, Lucius, Theo -- anyone.

Although Theo did continue to creep back into my headspace, that was unpreventable. Mainly because I couldn't rest easy knowing that the hall wasn't empty -- that there was another person here with me, hidden in one of these many rooms. The not knowing of his whereabouts combined with the endless silence throughout the entire Hall, made for an uneasy, eerie atmosphere. I was alone -- but I wasn't.

I'd been sitting in the library for some hours now, perched with my knees pulled up to my chest on a large window seat. A window seat, which I thought, would have been perfect for two.

The view, I could've gazed out at forever: the sunshine from this morning had stolen away along with Draco, leaving the sky as an ominous stretch of dark grey. Still, I thought the wild, windy weather, the crashing waves against the cliff edge along with the drizzle of rain, was just as peaceful to look out onto as would be any golden sunset.

My attention span, however, had always been short lived. And after so many hours of daydreaming and reading and staring at the surging storm outside and reading some more and creating unhelpful scenarios in my head about Draco and I that would never become a reality -- ever -- I'd had quite enough.

I snapped my book closed. Cursed the overbearing silence. Glared at the clock -- because she was ticking so slowly today -- and finally left the library to venture downstairs.

Somehow, I managed to wander through the maze of corridors without getting lost. Turning one corner, the distant sound of upbeat music drifted out. It pulled me forward, like a trance, down towards the living room. Nervously I peered around the corner, where my eyes fell on Theo. He sat on the sofa with his head down, one sleeve pulled up revealing his Dark Mark; leaning over a wooden coffee table -- fiddling with something in his hand.

A syringe.

As though he'd sensed my presence, his head snapped up. Our eyes met -- both guilty -- both apprehensive. Theo's gaze darted down to the syringe in his hand and back to me. An uncomfortable silence filled the air. He broke it a moment later with an awkward cough.

"Don't tell Draco,"

I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

He wasn't joking either: his eyes were serious -- worried, even. "He -- he doesn't need to know, alright?"

My reply was solely built on the need to clear the tension in the air -- not because I was on Theo's side: "I'm no snitch," Relief flashed in his eyes; I quickly tried to swerve away from the subject. "Besides, he's had to leave for the day: we won't be seeing him for a while. He told you where he went, right?"

Theo's shoulders slackened. And when he put the syringe filled with drugs back down on the table and reclined back in his seat, my shoulders slackened with relief too. He nodded, staring at me thoughtfully; then something flashed in his eyes -- something knowing -- and he suddenly pulled his sleeve down so that it covered his Dark Mark.

"He stopped by before he left and explained the situation. Which reminds me, he asked me to keep an eye on you. But, err. . ." Theo shrugged, pouting slightly as his gaze fell back on the coffee table. "I guess I got a little distracted, as you do. . ."