𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

Chapter 5

Days passed without a word from Draco. Edward became increasingly sure as the hours ticked by that whatever had happened had scared him off. It was for the best-nothing good would come of the incipient fascination he had with the wizard. He never should have lost control like that . . . touched him like that. The loneliness consumed him again and, with it, shame. He spent his days reading the books Draco had brought him and his nights roaming the forest trying not to brood.

At least he had new books. Edward pored over them, soaking up every bit of information. He learned that even the wizarding world had its prejudices-not all wizards were born from entirely magical stock, and those who weren't were looked down upon by some pure wizards . Mudbloods, they were called-a reference to their "muddied," impure blood. And humans without magical powers received even more derision. Edward tisked in disgust and turned the page; he'd faced enough discrimination in his life to feel affronted. Of course, vampires often saw humans as mere food, valued only for the sustenance their blood provided. Which attitude was worse?

Edward wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his own question.

Other topics inspired less problematic questions. Quidditch, the wizarding world's premiere sport, fascinated him. He wished he could watch the wizards and witches careening in the air on their brooms, being beaten with bludgers, and chasing the golden snitch. So much more interesting than human sports, none of which had ever intrigued Edward. Apparently, Hogwarts had four teams based on its house system-and Edward couldn't help wondering to which house Draco belonged.

Apparently, two men and two women with strange surnames had established the school in the tenth century: Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Each had stressed a different importance regarding wizarding and sought students who exemplified the qualities they preferred. But the founders had quarreled. Slytherin had held an elitist view, wanting to maintain the blood purity of the student body. The others hadn't agreed. Divisions between the houses had been maintained until the present day, and each first year student was sorted into a house depending on personality traits, though the book argued that students had the ability to contest the sorting if they strongly disagreed. Edward supposed it made for rousing sport, but not much else.

He clapped the book shut with a sigh, setting it down on the table and sliding it away. The fire roared furiously in the grate and Edward gazed at it impassively, wondering when he'd ever learn to live with this isolation. When he'd first made the decision to leave, he hadn't cared where he went, just as long as it was far away. Carlisle's proposal of a cabin in the Scottish forest had seemed just as good a place as any. Alice assured him it would be safe, and he'd relied on her gift of foresight often enough in the past. But he also knew that Alice's visions changed depending on the decisions people made; she wasn't an infallible seer by any means. Had she seen this? Had she seen Draco?

On the next night, Edward heard light footsteps hours after the sun had set. His dead heart lurched as he hopped to his feet and swept the door open. Draco nearly tumbled inside, poised as he'd been to knock. His body collided against Edward, who steadied him without releasing his hold.

"How did you know I was-" Draco began, confused. The two were around the same height, but the wizard's face was lowered, and Edward couldn't see his expression. The muscles of his arms tensed under Edward's grasp.

"Vampire hearing."

"Good to know." For a moment the only sound was the rustling of the wind in the trees overhead and Draco's quick breathing. Edward still couldn't believe he was here-and couldn't understand how glad he felt because of it.

"Where have-" Edward stopped; he'd almost asked Draco where he'd been, but at the last moment changed his mind. It was none of his business, after all. Perhaps Draco had someone else . . . a real lover. A grimace flashed across his face at the thought. He released his hold and stepped backwards carefully.