Heliophilia; d.m

XLIV

VIOLET

I was uneasy. Like something was wrong. My heart ached, and I had an inexplicable urge to shed a few tears. It was as if I'd been living in some poisonous fog for a long time, and now it was beginning to dissipate, dissolving my skin.

I slowly opened my eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling. My brain was blurred, and it took me a moment to recognize the place I'd woken up in. I was lying on the couch, which was hard and not quite comfortable, and my neck was stiff. I heard a crackling sound from the fireplace, which was the only source of light in the darkened room.

And I wanted to get up from that couch, but I didn't move. I was still at a loss — It was like my head was in a complete mess, and I didn't know how to sort it out.

Speaking of my head, I felt how heavy it was, I felt pressure everywhere, from my forehead to the back of my head.
I closed my eyes again, frowning slightly.

What happened to me? Why was I in the Slytherin common room? Why was I there alone?

Questions swirled in my head, but there were no answers. I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my skin, and felt a wet trail on my cheek. The trail of tears.

"What's the matter with you?"

I heard a painfully familiar voice and opened my eyes abruptly, turning in the direction of the speaker — my breathing was ragged, and I could feel my heartbeat everywhere, it was knocking out my ability to speak with painful thumps.

"Draco?..." I asked almost in a whisper, and was surprised to hear that my voice was not the same as usual — now it was more subtle and soft.

Draco was standing not far from the couch where I was lying, looking down at me, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. His face was creased in a frown and seemed annoyed.
And he looked different, too.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He spoke, and there was no gentle and kind emotion in his eyes that was so familiar to me.

He seemed like a stranger — cold and distant, like I was back in my fourth year at Hogwarts, when there was nothing but constant bickering and arguing between us, when we didn't have our own history, when there was no us yet.

"But you are a ghost." I wanted to say, but something stopped me, and instead, I stood up from the couch, feeling the room spin for a second before my eyes.

I felt like I'd been asleep forever, because my head felt empty, but at the same time it felt heavy on my shoulders; my hand went to the back of my head, and then I realized that my hair was almost down to the small of my back, and it made me froze, swallowing hard.

But I remembered I had cut it not so long ago, standing in the bathroom at Mariel's house, watching my dry strands fall into the sink.

But that couldn't be a mistake — my hair was long now, and it felt like silk under my fingers.

"Are you okay or—" Draco's voice sounded again, and I looked up at him with a searching look that stopped him in mid-sentence.
The look in his eyes was like he was looking at the mentally ill person, which I really was.

"I'm going even crazier." I whispered, looking at him with slightly widened eyes, still hoping that right now I should be better, and I should be at Mariel's house. I made a mental vow never skip a medication again in my life, because I didn't like this vision.

"Well, I can see that." Draco chuckled and ran a hand through his platinum hair — I was sure I knew how it felt under my fingers.

"Why am i here?" I asked him, but I knew he couldn't give me an answer. I was the only one responsible for my visions, and I was the only one who had to know that — but I didn't, and that scared me.