The Green Trio

November 24th, 1994 cont.

The night sky was riddled with clouds, the stars hidden unwillingly behind them, knowing if any of them chose to fall that night, nobody would ever know.

Draco leaned over the balcony, his arms crossed over the rails, his elbows touching Diana's. He tilted his head down to laugh quietly, his hair glowing in the moonlight. Draco was a mirror image of his father, but when he laughed, Diana saw the traces of his mother leaking through like a dripping faucet. How they both stifled their own joy lest it be too loud to love. He was so contained. Like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be happy about.

She swore if she could see the stars, if one fell over their heads, all she'd wish was for his laugh to know no bounds.

He turned his head, still smiling as he met her gaze.

"It's impolite to stare."

"And?" She brushed his hair away from his face. "You shouldn't be so nice to look at."

Draco wasn't a stranger to compliments—Merlin knew how many people kissed his ass how whole life—and still, he reddened ever so slightly and cleared his throat. It surprised her every time. How quickly his ego shed in private, especially given how all his friends seemed to do was nurture it. She wondered what made hers different: that they came from her or the genuineness  with which she spoke to him.

She wondered if anyone knew this version of him. Where his quips were soft—where he was more of a knife dulled and no longer a danger.

Would he still be this Draco in public if he were with her? Like really with her?

"I have a question."

He looked at her expectantly. "I'm assuming it'll be difficult."

"Have you ever..." She stared at the space around him. "Have you ever thought about making us... public?"

"Public?" he repeated the word with an uncertainty that made her want to scoop her question into a box and sink it with bricks in the ocean.

She kept her wits about her. "Yes. Public."

His silence was louder than anything either of them could've said. Diana felt herself shrinking as she looked over the grounds.

She tried to envision them walking hand in hand across the grass. The sun beaming down on them. The sky clear. But the image crumbled and all she could imagine was darkness as the brutal reminder of who she was barrelled into her, crushing her ribcage. It was so much harder to breathe suddenly.

She, like the stars on a cloudy night, was best kept secret. Something to be hidden away. That was how it was for the daughter of Deatheaters, traitor to the House of Slytherin. You're lucky to find anyone unashamed to be around you.

Draco was annoyed, the clench in his jaw giving him away.

"Why would we—"

The sounds of a door shutting cut him off. He looked towards the stairs. Clinking bottled echoed around them.

"What was that?"

Diana shook her head, panic pumping adrenaline into her heart. Wood creaked under them. Footsteps getting closer.

"We know you're there!"

"We're coming to get you!"

She froze.

No.

Not here. Not now. Not like this.

Taking Draco by the wrist, she pulled him into a shadowed corner.

They stood silent. Listening. She dared to turn her head to look at him, to glean what was going on inside him, but the darkness enveloping them hid his face from her. Not even the moon's dim light came to her aid.