Heartbeat

Chapter 1- Reiterative Asshole

Draco

"Come, Draco."

"I'm coming Father!" I say loudly, hastily stuffing my robes in my trunk. 

The door opens with a loud bang, and he glares down at me in dissapointment. 

"I expect you to behave like an adult when we have guests," he hisses, whipping out his wand and lifting the trunk with a flick. 

I don't give a damn about our guests, I want to say, but keep my mouth shut. Like a dog, I follow him through the Manor, averting my eyes from Yaxley when he leers at us. 

"Aren't I going on the Hogwarts Express?" I ask when Father comes to a stop in the living room. 

"No," he says cooly. "We don't want you on the train with the mudblood filth."

He pauses, as if expecting me to laugh. When it becomes clear I don't find him funny at all, he continues. 

"You will floo to Hogwarts. Severus is already there."

"Right."

I take a handful of the powder, ready to step in our large fireplace. 

"Are you sure you want to go to that filthy school?" he asks, looking at me in dissapointment. "It will be easier to serve The Dark Lord if you're here. There's lots you can learn. Why, you must have seen that Burbage woman's punishment last week-"

"I don't want to stay," I say immediately, feeling sick. "I want to go to Hogwarts."

"We talked about this last night Lucius," Mother says sternly, walking in the room. "He'll be safer there, with Severus and the Carrow twins."

Father lets out an unconvinced grumble. 

"Hogwarts," I say, stepping into the fireplace, relieved that I'm finally getting out of the Manor. 

The warmth of the flickering flames doesn't give me the comfort that it usually does. 

I land in Alecto's office, and I brush the soot off my knees. She gives me a warm nod, opening the door for me on my way out. 

As I walk through the castle, towards the Slytherin chambers, a wave of nostalgia hits me. Feelings that I had kept buried deep over the summer emerge, raw and emotional. When I pass the library, I allow myself to think about her, convincing myself that it'll only be a second. 

But she washes over the folds of my mind, erasing every thought and filling me with the memory of her. 

Hermione.

I enter the common room, going straight up to my dorm. Theo is there, handing from the bed, with his brown wavy hair nearly brushing the ground. 

"Draco," he greets with a tired grin. "I was wondering if you would come this year."

"Well, here I am," I say stiffly. "You alright then?"

"Fine," he says, his grin fading. "Shall we go down to the Great Hall for dinner then? Blaise is already there."

I had missed Blaise over the past few months. I had already seen Theo at the Manor, as his father was frequently part of the Death Eater meetings. But Theo had no idea what I was going through, and he talked for long hours of Quidditch and other nonsense that I no longer had interest in. 

We walk to the Great Hall in a comfortable silence, and I spot Blaise sitting with Pansy at the Slytherin table. 

"Blaise," I greet, thumping him on the back. 

Theo takes a seat, immediately piling chicken on his plate, but I stand, my eyes scanning the Gryffindor table. I scour the heads for a familiar bushy mane, and my heart leaps when I see puffed brown hair. But it's just Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, sitting next to Longbottom. 

It's a cruel thing really, hope. It started small inside me, in the Manor. The only reason I was so adamant on coming to Hogwarts this year was the small possibility that she could be here. 

Blaise stands, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

"She's not here, Draco," he says quietly, almost in pity. "Sit down."

I shake my head, taking a few steps back. 

"I'm not hungry," I say. 

My stomach gives a loud growl, and Blaise looks at me knowingly. 

"Eat," he orders, moving over so I can sit next to him. 

I take a small bit out of a pumpkin pasty, feeling the start of a terrible headache. 

"AHHH!" a scream of pain fills the hall, and all the heads turn towards the Gryffindor table. 

A sneering Amycus stands over a very bloody Longbottom. 

"This," he says loudly, surveying the hall's shocked response in glee. "Is what will happen to those who think they can get away with talking back." 

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"Draco!" Blaise calls next morning, his hair looking wind-ruffled. "They're having Quidditch tryouts!"

I walk down the staircase, flopping down next to him on the couch. 

"Great," I mumble, uninterested.

I pick up a heavy Transfiguration textbook, and I'm immediately reminded of Granger. Was it just a few months ago that she was in this very same room with me? Was it just a few months ago I rested my head on her lap-

"I'm going to tryout this year," he says proudly. "I've been practicing."

"Good for you," I say dryly. 

"Well?" Blaise asks. "Are you trying out?"

"No," I say curtly.

"You know," he says, irate. "You could smile a little. It won't kill you."

I give a sour smile. 

"Even if she was here," he says, his voice softer. "You wouldn't be able to talk to her. She wouldn't remember you."

I don't answer. 

"It's better that she's not really," he continues. "The Carrows are torturing the people like her anyways."

I give a shudder at the thought of Granger all bloodied up like Longbottom was yesterday. 

"So," he concludes. "You could try and be a bit more happy."

I let out a bitter laugh. 

"Happy isn't in my vocabulary anymore," I tell him. "Not without her."

"You're acting like a mopey dog," Blaise says, frowning. "It doesn't suit you!"

"Go away," I say, slamming the heavy book into him playfully. 

He looks at me in exasperation, shoving the book back. 

"Do you think I could use your broom for tryouts?" he asks. 

"No," I say straight away. "Granger and I had classes on that broom-"

He rolls his eyes. 

"Granger and I this, Granger and I that!" he mocks. "Reiterative asshole."

I wave him off, going back to the Transfiguration textbook.

"Should've Obliviated you too," I hear him mutter mutinously as he walks out of the common room. 

"What was that?" I call after him, trying to make my voice threatening. 

"Nice voice crack," he yells back, laughing loudly. 

Blaise seems to be looking for an excuse to laugh nowadays. I can't find it in me to laugh back.