Plot; Draco Malfoy

Chapter 4 - Mornings

Brianna Avis Larch

Careful not to wake my dorm-mates, I crawled into my bed, Draco's touch still fresh on my skin. My eyelids felt heavy, my head spinning from how tired I was.

I couldn't distinguish the rate at which time passed when I was with Draco, talking to him, holding his hand, kissing him, and even though we only kissed once and all he did it for was to mess with my head, I still remember every detail and treasure the memory.

Kissing him felt different; it made me feel special in a way. The feeling is hard to explain, but it's like I've known him forever.

I grew up with him, but never actually with him.

I know, that sounds ridiculous, but it all kind of makes sense. Even when I was with him, it felt like he wasn't there. He never spoke to me, at least not since the end of our fourth year.

I remember the day Cedric died, the last part of the Triwizard Tournament, the day both of us dreaded, the day that Voldemort came back.

Flashback

"There's a rumor going around that some first-years are trying to enter the restricted section of the school library. Please go talk some sense into them, Ms. Larch," Snape mumbled unfatigued by the rumor, "Yes, Professor," I replied reluctantly, but with obedience.

I was used to being Snape's right hand; he often asked me to fetch something for him or owl a letter.

It was the evening after the final part of the Triwizard Tournament, the death of a proud, innocent Hufflepuff boy, Cedric Diggory, shook the whole school. The Dark Lord is back, and there's no denying it.

Some witches and Wizards refused to believe what the traumatized Harry Potter said about Voldemort coming back, but deep down, we all knew that it was the truth; some were just in denial, which came with the fear of him returning. Many found it easier to cope with the tragic times that were soon to come that way, yet again, we all knew that denying the Dark Lord's uprising wasn't going to change anything. It was a lie used to help soothe the restless minds of fearful people, the ones who weren't strong enough to face the impact of the fact.

The corridors, usually filled with students and ghosts rushing from class to class, hallway to hallway, were now empty and deserted. Students stayed in their dormitories, teachers, and spirits busy guarding Hogwarts, the whole school mourning over Cedric's death.

I remember the look on the poor boy's father's face; Cedric was his everything. He was so proud and happy. His desperate screams after realizing his son's fate echoed through my head, sending shivers down my spine.

I shook the memory off, concentrating on the task I was assigned.

As I turned the corner after climbing a ridiculous amount of staircases, finally approaching the library, a little out of breath from my journey through the abnormally large castle, I heard a voice. The voice didn't form any words; the sounds I heard were... sobs?

When I got closer, I distinguished the voice to be masculine.

The only thing I found in the Restricted Section was a huge amount of dust.

I decided to check on whoever was crying or whatever they were doing. I followed the voice, creeping through the library, passing shelves and carts full of old and new books, all the tables empty as ever.

As I peeked my head around the corner, I spotted a slender silhouette crouched down by one of the bookshelves. I stood there, frozen and observed; his hair was a silver-blonde, a Slytherin tie hung loosely around his neck, his ring clad hands clenched around his legs, face buried in his knees. His whole figure shook as sobs, now louder than before, escaped his lips.