d r a c o
He had waited for her for hours.
Had sat by his window, watching the street for a dark-blonde head. Held her dried snowdrop between his fingers, and wondered at what point it might become reasonable to worry.
She had seemed interested, when she'd last seen him. Had seemed eager to see him again. But he didn't know. Maybe he'd scared her off, or maybe she had decided that it was all too much for her. His family, his past, his Dark Mark. He wouldn't blame her.
When Draco had thrown his cold tea into the sink and finally gone to bed, he'd lain there for a few hours longer. Not that he was used to sleeping much, anyway, but that night, it was particularly difficult to switch off his mind.
He finally decided that he would give her another day. If he didn't hear anything from her in the next twenty-four hours, he would Apparate to her house.
When he fell asleep, the sun was already peeking over the horizon.
Two hours later, he had woken to light knocks on his door. He had buried his face into his pillow, at first; had tried to drown it out, but minutes later, the knocking persisted. He'd sat up and crinkled his forehead in thought. The only person he knew who wouldn't have barged in by now was Emily - and her knocks, from what he remembered, were agonizingly assertive. These knocks were soft - almost timid.
When he opened the door, Belly stood there; her eyes red and her arms wrapped around herself.
He started, feeling abruptly wide awake. "Are you okay?"
"Sorry I wasn't here last night," she said. His mind raced, trying to think of one scenario that explained why she was here, of all places, so early in the morning. "I have a lot to explain."
He held out the door. "Come in," he said. He watched as she walked in and looked around her; felt suddenly embarrassed at how empty it might look to her. Just a weathered black couch, an old oak table, and a few books strewn about the place. "I've never really bothered to decorate," he said.
"I like it," she said, smiling back at him. "I'm sorry for showing up so early. I was at St. Mungo's, and they kicked me out." Her smile dropped. "My mother is sick."
"I'm sorry," he told her. Somewhat honestly.
Belly fidgeted with her nails. "I think she'll be okay," she said, her voice soft. "She just has to stay there for a little while."
Draco chewed on his cheek. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked, forcing himself to look away from her. How many times had he thought of her in this apartment; imagined her face where she was standing right now.
"I'm fine, thank you," she said. "I was hoping we could go to my house, actually. Instead of here. I think it might be safer."
He looked back at her, not understanding. "Safer," he echoed.
Belly stared at her hands. "Your dad caught me on my way here last night," she said quietly. "He tried to erase you from my memories."
Draco felt the world slip away from him; felt his heart begin to thunder in his ears. "He attacked you?"
"He didn't hurt me."
"But he attacked you," he said again, taking his wand from the kitchen counter and gripping it tightly. His free hand curled into a fist.
"Unsuccessfully," said Belly. "But the attack hurt my mother, because I was wearing my necklace. That's why she's in the hospital right now."
Draco's eyes dropped to her empty throat, then sprang back to her. "So what, he tried to Obliviate you? Did he threaten you?"
