remember | d.m.

chapter 11

-Terra-

It felt as if I'd only slept for about 5 minutes before I peeled my eyes open to see Draco standing over me with knitted brows and his wand clutched in his hand. I sat up abruptly and rubbed my aching head, desperately wishing I had my potion with me.

"What?" I snapped.

He raised his brows with a sense of shock. "You're serious right now?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" Just the sight of him. I felt like reaching up and shoving my fist into his jaw. Where had the nice handsome boy from The Three Broomsticks gone? Now that boy seemed like a fever dream.

"You were shouting in your sleep."

I groaned. I guess that explained the splitting headache. Draco crouched down beside me.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't remember." I rubbed the side of my head tiredly before realization washed over. I wasn't supposed to be speaking to this asshole. "Now go away."

I wasn't normally like this. But he had essentially hurt my feelings tonight. I didn't care if he had similar symptoms to me, experiences, or even visions anymore. We were magic folk, there had to be some explanation for this and I was doing pretty well way before I'd met the bipolar Draco Malfoy. Now, I just wanted to go back to my friends and spend the rest of this trip traveling.

Draco hadn't budged. In fact, he was crouched so still that for a moment I was scared I'd accidentally Petrified him or something. But when I finally glanced up and decided to look at him even though I'd promised myself I wouldn't the rest of the night, which I'd clearly broken the moment I opened my eyes to Draco right above me, Draco was staring deeply at the side of my face.

I didn't like talking about that particular side of my face all too much. Mum said I'd been born with it and for a long time I used beauty charms to cover it until I gave up and this one boy at Ilvermorny told me I looked bad ass with it. I don't know what he meant since it's not like they were some edgy looking scars that lined the side of my face, no, it was literally just patches of discoloration that was unfixable my entire life.

And now, sitting here under Draco's heavy gaze, I suddenly felt self conscious again like I did when I was 12. I reached up and tugged at my dark hair which fell in front of the side of my face, covering up the patches.

"Were you burned?" he blurted out after blinking back to reality.

"What?" I asked incredulously. "No. I was born with it."

Draco gaped slightly then lifted his sleeve. My eyes flipped to his pale forearm which displayed a very prominent mark that resembled some sort of shape that I couldn't put my finger on.

"I was born with this. My mother says it's just a birthmark, but I always thought it was a skull attached to a snake."

"Because that's not dark and creepy at all," I muttered while continuing to examine his forearm. He was right though, I was beginning to see the resemblance. My fingers itched to reach out and trace the shapes but he slid his sleeve down just as quick again.

He stood up quickly and cleared his throat while turning away as if coming to his senses. "It probably means nothing anyways."

"Why do you do that?"

He stopped. "Do what?"

"A few days ago you were itching for answers, now you keep clamming up." Even as I uttered those words did I realize that he needed self-help more than my bitchy attitude. Clearly, Draco struggled with...something. Himself, perhaps. I suddenly ached to help, all earlier thoughts of leaving and not caring withered away.