adiaphoron | d.m

TWENTY-FIVE

➸ TIRED ATTITUDES

CECILIA WALKED DOWN THE HILL, the brisk morning air doing little to shake off the fatigue that clung to her from the previous night. She hadn't gotten nearly enough rest, all thanks to Pansy's lengthy bout of sobbing over Draco Malfoy. As she trudged along, she made a face in disdain.

Crying over a boy. And a boy like Malfoy, no less. How degrading.

As she reached the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid's distinctive voice rang out, booming across the gathered students. "These're nifflers!" he announced, peering over each of them with a friendly but imposing gaze. Cecilia maneuvered her way into the crowd, careful to keep her distance from the Slytherins, particularly Pansy and the ever-aloof Malfoy.

"Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff... There yeh go, look!" Hagrid's enthusiasm was infectious as one of the nifflers suddenly sprang into action, making a beeline for Pansy's wrist in an attempt to snag her shiny watch. Pansy screeched, leaping backward in surprise, and Cecilia couldn't suppress a small smile at the chaotic scene, though deep down, she felt too worn out to fully enjoy it.

"Useful little treasure detectors," Hagrid continued, his excitement palpable. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?"

But at that moment, Cecilia's attention began to drift. Her gaze wandered to Draco Malfoy standing just a short distance away. Thoughts of the previous night flooded back—how he had lounged over Pansy in her bed, the way his expression shifted as he left, seemingly conflicted and distant. He was perplexing, a riddle wrapped in an enigma, and tonight he felt especially inscrutable.

Cecilia observed him, taking in the disheveled state he was in. His hair, typically so carefully combed, now hung in messy strands that framed his face. His clothes, usually crisp and perfectly fitted, looked rumpled and relaxed. He seemed tired—almost unguarded.

She felt a strange pull in the air between them. As if sensing her eyes on him, Malfoy turned his head, their gazes locking for a beat longer than either of them expected. In that moment, Cecilia held his gaze, refusing to look away, even when logic urged her to do so.

His silver eyes roamed over her, absorbing the details of her features—the tousled strands of hair, the way the light danced in her eyes, the subtle curves of her smile. He was mesmerized, acutely aware of how effortlessly beautiful she appeared, as if captured by a spell that made the world around them fade away. It was the kind of beauty that left an indelible mark on one's soul, something achingly poignant, like a fleeting glimpse of something rare.

Yet, just as fast as the moment began, it shattered. Malfoy found himself wanting to remain in that gaze indefinitely, but before he could fully process it, Cecilia swiftly turned her head away, breaking the contact that had felt like a jolt of lightning through the air.

The moment lingered, buzzing in the silence between them. For a heartbeat, time stopped. Amidst the gathering chaos of students and Hagrid's cheerful chatter, the air between them shifted, leaving remnants of what had just occurred—a fleeting connection that neither of them was quite ready to define.

Cecilia forced herself to return her attention to Hagrid, pushing away the thoughts that swirled in her mind like a tempest. She was aware of Draco's presence still, the weight of his gaze lingering despite the distance she had created. They were trapped in an orbit, circling each other in a dance that felt both familiar and entirely new. And even in that moment of distraction, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed.

Draco released a pent-up breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he attempted to focus back on Hagrid's lesson. But it was no use; the heaviness of Cecilia's expression lingered in his mind, clouding his thoughts. He flicked his gaze back toward her, a hint of concern knitting his brows together.