𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐀 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀

Chapter 11

Natten var stor och stum,

nu hörs dess vingar

I alla tysta rum;

sus som av vingar

Se, på vår tröskel står,

vitklädd med ljus is hår,

Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia

. . .

Night walks grand and silent,

now is head it's wings.

In every room so hushed,

murmur like of wings.

Look, at out threshold stands,

White-clad with light in her hair,

Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia

"Natten går tunga fjät" ("Night walks with heavily steps"), Arvid Rosén

Draco was so tired. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night again. And now he was about to fall asleep at lunch, with was not just not on.

It was all a bit confusing. How could just two sleepless nights make him this tired? It was annoying to say the least, and it was affecting his work. He had blown up a cauldron earlier today, because he wasn't focused on his potion. Thankfully, Potter had been over in the matter of seconds and cast a spell so that the potion didn't explode over the whole classroom, and he could blame the whole thing on supernatural dark powers that were out to get him.

But he realized that this lifestyle wasn't sustainable. He needed to sleep, to focus, to live through those choir lessons, to keep sane.

Absent-mindedly, Draco took a bite from a green apple that he didn't remember putting on his plate. Suddenly he was gasping for air, because he was choking on that bloody bite.

"Draco?" Daphne asked across the table in concern, as he coughedloudly. He was holding the table so hard that his knuckles were turning white, his head was spinning from lack of oxygen and Millicent was next to him trying desperately to acquaint his spine with his rib cage.

"Respiramina liberum!" he heard a voice say and suddenly he could breathe again.

Draco looked up to find Potter standing beside Daphne's seat, pointing his wand at him.

"Thank you," Draco rasped weakly.

"You're alright?" he pushed on.

"Yeah."

"Class is about to start soon, should we get going?" Potter asked and Draco looked at his clock and realized Potter was right.

"You're all done?" he asked his friends.

"All done, Draco." Pansy smiled and stood up. "Shouldn't you go and get your bag, Potter?" she asked softy.

"Er, yeah," he said and went back to the Gryffindor table. Soon the eighth year Slytherins and Potter and his friends headed out of the Great Hall, for the first time as one big group.

"You look a bit tired, Malfoy," Hermione pointed out softly later.

"Ah, yes." Malfoy offered no further explanation. Parkinson grabbed Hermione's sleeve and whispered quietly in her ear something Harry only heard because he was walking right behind them.