Traitor : Fred Weasley, Draco Malfoy & OC Fanfic

Chapter 35 - Charlie

Every morning since, a gift or letter would arrive promptly at the entrance to our dorm. Fred's scrawled handwriting littered out apology after apology for his cruel words. Every morning I ignored them, putting them away into the drawer of my bedside table.

Today was no different, I sighed as I opened the door to see what it was this time. A small chocolate frog box sat carefully in the hallway, with yet another note that read "I'm sorry" attached with a deep purple ribbon.

"You're going to have to reply at some point, Celeste" Daphne grumbled in a raspy morning voice, as she sat up in bed.

"I know but I can't bring myself to yet" I replied, picking up the box and putting it in the drawer with the rest of them.

Something about what he said had struck a nerve. I had been so fearful that his departure from school would hinder our relationship. It felt silly at first, we had been friends for longer than I could remember and clearly Hogwarts, or a close proximity to one another, hadn't been the only thing holding us together.

Truthfully, I was scared that he would just see me as something less serious, with him being, and I used this term very loosely, a grown up now. He had a business to run while I was still here, making stupid little potions or learning about mandragora.

What he'd said only reiterated my fear. Whether he said it in the heat of the moment or while distracted by a stressful matter, he still said it. He hadn't conjured it out of nowhere, so it's a thought that had crossed his mind at least once. That's why I was so upset, why I couldn't bring myself to reply to his apologies. Not yet.

He had even sent Ron to speak with me one morning at breakfast, accompanied with flowers, sea lavender, that I knew had come from Shell Cottage. Through my own wretched stubbornness, I told him that if Fred wanted to speak with me he should do it himself, in person.

It was a Thursday evening, an evening that had become steeped in the exhausting tradition of being spent in Library. Sixth year had been no laughing matter so far, but I welcomed school work with open arms as a distraction from Fred. As well as Draco.

I held on to the belief that what I had seen of Draco was serious, but I'd kept it to myself. I wanted to know more before anybody else interfered with it. If I were to run to Harry immediately, he would confront him then and there. It would be spoilt, my cover blown and I'd never know what he had been up to until it was too late.

These thoughts continuously flowed through my mind as I tried to focus on the Charms textbook in front of me, but like the devil himself could be summoned simply by speaking his name, I saw Draco's dark-clad frame cloud my vision. I'd nestled myself into a corner with the perfect view of the entrance to the restricted section, which was where he seemed to be heading.

Determined, I slammed my book shut and followed after him, keeping my steps light and airy so he wouldn't detect me. As I creaked open the iron gates that usually warded off any students from entering, I searched for him.

As I paced the aisles, looking down each one, left and right, I thought he had vanished into thin air until a saw the outline of his body in the furthest, darkest corner.

"Draco" I whispered. He practically jumped out of skin, spinning on his heel in the direction of my voice. He quickly wedged the book he'd been reading back into the tightly packed shelf.

Nothing could have prepared me for how quickly his natural reaction followed. Hastily, he pinned me against the bookshelf, almost lifting me off my feet to hold my robes. Draco roughly held my face between soft hands, hands that had never seen any kind of hard work in their life.