𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Chapter 3

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Chapter 3: Two Stories, No Solution

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Draco sat there, feeling numb. This was no joke, this was no dream – it was real. But he couldn't comprehend how on earth he ended up like this...it just didn't make any sense.

He was picking up his books to get ready for his first class just moments before, and now he sat here in this dinky dungeon...no cell...with none other then Harry Potter, who keeps blaming him that they ended up like this.

And the way Potter glared at him, Draco had never seen such loathing in his eyes. He hadn't done anything to him this year, and yet Potter made it seem like as if he had killed his best friend.

Did he miss something? What was going on, and why the hell was he in prison? Why was his body aching and bruised, as if he had gotten in some nasty fight?

Draco cradled his throbbing head in his hands, massaging his temples and trying to ease the pain, while these thoughts skimmed through him. He felt empty, like he had missed part of a scene that he couldn't remember.

He lifted his head and stared at Potter, who had his back turned from him. He breathed a shaky sigh, and let the silence between them grow longer. He decided to take this time to get a good look at their cell, when his eyes finally darted towards the window, while a light salty breeze drew in. Why would there be a window in a cell?

A few more agonizing minutes went by, until heavy footsteps were heard and someone was opening the door. Potter sat up, looking alert, and Draco stared tiredly towards the door. It was Dumbledore... followed closely by the same guard who had handed them their uniforms.

"Harry, may I speak to you for a minute?" said Dumbledore softly.

Potter nodded, and stood up at once. The guard moved toward him, and snapped the handcuffs around his wrists once again.

"I don't think that is necessary," said Dumbledore meekly.

"It is my job. I must handcuff the prisoner every time he leaves the cell," said the guard curtly.

"Very well. But I daresay you will remove it when we go inside the private room?" said Dumbledore, raising a white brow.

"Yeah, I suppose I will," the guard grunted. And with that, Potter followed Dumbledore and the guard, leaving Draco by himself.

Draco gave an involuntary shudder when he had left, staring blankly at the door. Dumbledore didn't even look at me. It was almost as if though he thinks I'm guilty of whatever the hell happened.

He sank against the wall, wrapping his slim arms around his shins, resting his silvery blonde head on his knees, feeling drained, and very alone.

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"Have a seat, Harry," said Dumbledore, as they reached an empty room with a large table and two chairs. The guard unlocked Harry's handcuffs grumpily, then proceeded towards the door and stood there. Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable that the guard would be listening in on their conversation. He sat down, and blurted out before Dumbledore began.

"Please, Professor, I swear I didn't do it. I would never -- "

"Harry, I want you to tell me the whole story, from your side. Tell me exactly what happened, in the best way you can remember it." He took the remaining chair opposite of Harry, sat down, and folded his hands on the table.

Harry took a deep breath, relieved that he would finally be getting this out.

"This morning, I, like everybody else, was at the Great Hall having breakfast. Ron, Hermione, and I were discussing our new schedules and our O.W.L.S. results. Everything was fine until Draco Malfoy showed up to our table," said Harry, feeling his insides squirm with anger.