𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫; 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

chapter: thirty-three

nothing

The weather had been unusual for that time of the year. It had been incredibly cold, and the students had only gone outside thickly wrapped in their jumpers, coats, and scarves. If they ever had the opportunity to go out, of course. It had rained most of the time —poured, rather.

There hadn't been a sign of the marvelous blue sky since we had arrived. The sky had been utterly plastered with clouds —  but not the white, fluffy ones, that look like cotton candy.

The sky had worn the dark, grey ones, which would make the entire world go sinister. And those clouds hadn't let a single ray of sun through. There wasn't a chance for the sky to breathe or to smile.

The weather mirrored my mood perfectly.

It had been a week. A week since I had arrived at Hogwarts.

A week of nothing.

Unsurprisingly, I hadn't heard anything from Hermione and the others. No letter. Nothing.

I hadn't expected them to write just at the beginning of their journey. They probably had been more than busy. But a letter from them would have pushed my mood immensely.

And Draco? We haven't exchanged a single word since the incident in the Great Hall the night we had arrived.

I, in fact, had tried to, but it had been difficult. Draco had mostly skipped dinner that week, and he had left the Great Hall after breakfast and lunch nearly as fast as he had entered.

I had been tempted to talk to him during the classes we shared, Defense Against The Dark Arts and Potions, but Draco had always entered the classroom only at the last minute, and he had left before I had even stuffed my belongings inside my bag.

He has been avoiding me. Clearly. And it hurt.

   Raindrops pattered against the window of my dorm as I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling on a Friday morning. I had decided to skip breakfast. My stomach would have betrayed me if I ate something. I had felt sick for a few days, and I couldn't do anything about it.

Ginny urged me to visit Madam Pomfrey, but I was sure that it wasn't the flu or something similar. Still, she wouldn't leave me alone so I went to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey couldn't detect the cause, but she suggested I to spent a night or two there. I refused.

The silence that reigned in my room was suffocating. Besides the sound of the rain on my window and the ticking of the clock on the wall, which Hermione wanted to hang up there in our first year, there was nothing else.

The silence kept reminding me that I was alone.

Straightening from my lying position, I squinted at the clock. The little pointer was pointed at eight while the bigger one was pointed at six. There were thirty minutes left until my first class for that day would start; Potions.

Before I managed to get up and gather my belongings for school, it felt like two invisible hands shielded my head so I couldn't move it elsewhere and had to stare at the bed across from mine. Hermione's bed.

The hands on my head were too strong and I couldn't tear my gaze away. I always avoided looking at her side of the room, staring at her unused bed, opening and closing her empty wardrobe. Apart from the silence, this was an other form to recall my loneliness. And I hated it.

I missed her a lot, and I needed her. I needed her to place my head in her lap, to brush the hair out of my face. I needed her to read to me until I would fall asleep. I needed her encouraging words, that she'd tell me that everything is going to be all right.