simple

13.

Hera's head was spinning because she didn't quite remember what feeling out of control of her emotions felt like. The alcohol had gone down to her legs and softened them, making her movements delayed. She had lost the reins because of some some boy, and she felt stupid for it. Malfoy was affecting her too much. She told herself that she was trying to protect him- protect their relationship from being watched by this unknown third party- her mother, probably.

She was ashamed of the small part of her that was enjoying having strong emotions again, but overall, she felt quite shitty.

Running down to the Hall in what seemed like a blur, she struggled to form a coherent thought in what seemed like a scrambled brain. As dinner was now over, the tables held scattered pairs and loners, studying or talking quietly.

A few heads turned to look at her momentarily, but she had noticed a cold distance between her and other people, as if they looked at each other through glass. Out of breath, and in a state of drunkenness , she probably looked horrible.

Maybe if she went to the bathroom she could fix her hair. Were her lashes still on? She was pretty sure she had broken a nail. How did this even happen it was only a couple of swigs-

-

"Who the fuck-" Blaise mumbled as he went to open the door to Draco's room.
"Pansy?" Draco said, surprised but not that surprised. "What do you want?"
"Your little girlfriend is drunk and we're not dealing with her anymore. Just thought you should know, cause' I'm going to sleep, " Pansy spat and walked away.

"Don't let her fall down the stairs, arseholes," she yelled sarcastically, even though it was nightime and everyone else was asleep.

Blaise turned to Draco with curiosity and sparkling eyes.

"Well, would you look at that?"

Blaise's approach to sarcasm didn't do well with his audience: a serious Draco.

Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Come on! Why'd you even need to think about it? Are you seriously debating this right now?"

Draco said nothing for a while.

"No way, mate," Blaise said in disbelief.
"If you're not going, I am. Merlin's beard, I will. Nostrova's basically begging for you to go. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Fuck off, Zabini, I'll go. I'm going. I'm going to stay away from her though, mark my words."

He slammed the wooden door behind him.

"Yeah, okay. Sure," Blaise grinned when he was left alone.

His feet shuffled quickly down the stairs. The Hall glowed golden, but there was no sign of her. A nasty feeling rose from Draco's chest as he wandered from classroom to classroom, from corridor to corridor. His ribs seemed to tighten and his heart beat too hard. From time to time, an awful sense of doom would overtake him and his body, but this was unlike his previous anxieties. This felt acute, sharp. Desperate. As much as he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of worry from his bones. His head darted from room to room until he reached the viaduct, where he charged towards the middle of it. Still, there was no sign of her.

In the back of Draco's head, he had this unwavering feeling that she may be in danger. He blasted through the castle, his steps growing faster with each room she wasn't in and eventually running up the stairs . When he burst into the second floor bathroom, a shudder went down his spine, remembering. Just as he was about to close the door, a voice murmured:

"Draco, in here." It seemed like a higher pitch than Hera's voice.

"Shut it, Myrtle," a slightly deeper, fuller voice grumbled quietly.