❝What is that song you
sing for the dead?❞
Born a sinner, Lucien Aliester King can talk to the dead. With the reappearance of Death Eaters and the approaching start of another wizarding war, Lucien is torn between venturing i...
11| CHAPTER ELEVEN can i stand in your light just for a while
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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
HE HAD WRITTEN BACK TO AUNT RAMONA, THERE WAS NO POINT OF MAKING HER WAIT and more worried than she already was. He had written about how smoothly everything was going, and that he was fine.
He hoped he didn't lie to his aunt. He had a plan, no matter how bad it was, to make things go back to normal. He would be fine. Occasional night terrors and dead people picking on him, everything would be familiar and good as it gets.
The feast welcoming arrivals from respective wizarding schools was the perfect distraction. He was going to fake a sickness to Snape, pretend to go back to his room and successfully sneak into the library.
He had been practising a few spells and watching Madam Pince so closely to a point that he started to recognize her patterns. He also overheard her informing a few professors that she would indeed attend the feast.
Entering the Restricted Section seemed doable enough, the hardest part was not to get caught. Everyone busy with the feast and curious about the newcomers, Lucien hoped he had nothing to fear.
He was seated at the Slytherin table, tuning out the buzzing conversation around him as he mentally tried to go over his plan. He didn't succeed, Pansy talking loudly next to him was a big concentration killer.
His eyes lazily trailed over the table, greeted by a lot of familiar faces. He didn't want to see his best friend, not that he thought they were still friends at this point; just to be reminded of the fact that they weren't the two boys having sleepovers and watching the Exorcist ( the movie surprisingly demanded by the one only Draco Malfoy, the boy knowing all too well that Lucien hated horror movies, despite being a real-life antagonist of one himself ).
His traitorous eyes landed on Draco, probably out of habit. He was listening to Blaise talk about his new stepfather ( Lucien assumed ); chin rested on his right hand, his eyes distant as he probably thought about something else. He nodded to Zabini a few times to show he was listening, but only halfheartedly.
Lucien tore his eyes away from him. These past days, he had sometimes found himself daydreaming about Draco in Transfiguration or Herbology, imagining his face as the blond one slept. It had been two weeks since Quinn sort of asked him out, they hadn't hung out since then, and Draco had been a dick about it whenever he smiled at Quinn in the halls.
