Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

T w e n t y - f i v e

_____

'' Draco was like the sound of rain.''

_____

Amelie Avery.

'' Why is that?'' She smiled as she stumbled over the roots embedded into the soil, '' How come that after nearly ten years, you're still obsessed with that book?''

Theodore shot her annoyed glare as his hand stretched into the air, holding some branches out of the way for her to walk past him.

'' I don't know. I just like it.'' He hummed, taking a stride after her, '' Some things just stick with you, you know? Even if you like it or not.''

Amelie smiled again. Her hand tucked into a glove brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Her cheeks grew red by the minute of the late chilly autumn breeze,

'' Like you got stuck with me, you mean?'' She mocked him, her shoulder nudging his,

Theo's eyes rolled, his mouth pushed into a firm line not to laugh at what she just told,

'' Maybe.'' He taunted back, his arm slipped to intertwine with hers as they kept walking through the woods towards a place they both cherished,

'' Do you smell that?'' Theodore smiled cheekily. His veins flushed in warmth as he looked down at her, stumbling over the branches beside him,

'' Yes — it smells like rain, doesn't it?'' Amelie whispered as she remembered. She nearly halted in her tracks, to breathe in the scent of this,

The trees, the leaves, and the feeling of rain coming to seize her senses — all in a breathtaking fusion.

Theodore tilted his head, gazing down at his best friend, who stood almost mesmerized by the surroundings. He noticed the hat on her head had slipped down a little too far,

But he didn't bother telling her about it. She looked beautiful either way.

Her glove-covered hand reached up to her reddened nose, gently scratching it as she looked back up at him.

'' It does smell like rain.'' He mumbled before placing a hand on her back, gesturing for her to keep going.

'' Come on, we're almost there.''

_____

Draco Malfoy.

His head was placed in his hands as he rested on the last steps of the stairs.

He wanted to give up. He had looked everywhere imaginable for her, and even if he did what was right for her at the time when he asked her to leave,

He regretted it now.

Amelie would be so much safer with him. He knew that.

But nothing he did helped his urge to find her.

He had torn her room apart. He had ripped every book off its shelf, shredded every page in two to see if there were any way she would've saved something — something that could tell him where she could be hiding.

But once again, nothing.

Draco loved being in her room, even when she wasn't there. At night, when he sought to sleep but the nightmares woke him up at the hour of twilight,

He usually walked into her room. He slid down next to the door, with his knees hugged to his chest — in a way he knew she did.

And it brought him comfort, in all the unknown — it granted his haunted mind a spare of peace.