𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

twenty seven

A stomach growls, breaking the quietude of the vast tower.

Then a fit of giggles erupts between the pair lying languidly over each other, limbs wrapped all around each other. Betty's arms swathed around his hips, head poised on his lap; Draco's body leaning against the coarse wall, hands cupping her cheeks.

Across the school boundary, the clock rings, signalling the nearing end of the dinner tonight.

Soon, the school will be filled with students shuffling out of the hall and pervading the corridors. It is a relief that this two has decided to escape the leaden duration of dinner and decided to come to the Astronomy Tower before anybody might catch them.

Although, Betty finds this meeting odd. It is the first meeting where Draco has insisted on meeting her at night, in the Astronomy Tower, even, that is quite a distance from her common room.

Earlier that day, as she is almost dozing off in Charms class, Draco had handed her a letter, folded delicately by his own hands against Blaise's teasing, and passed it to her in the midst of the boring lesson.

He had requested to see her at the Astronomy Tower during the feast - made it sound as if it was something significant and when she glanced at him curiously, he gave her an adamant look which demonstrated how he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Bringing them to this hour, as both of their stomachs are famished from skipping the feast.

But now, as she is lying calmly on his trousers, feeling the gentle tugs of her tie as he rolls the end of it over and over again, she can't tell what was of utmost importance that they simply had to meet tonight.

It seems like one of their regular occurrences.

"What do you want to do, Draco? When we leave school?" she asks, breaking the tranquility and tilting her face slightly to look at him.

Draco stiffens visibly, fingers ceasing in their playful movements.

"I realised we've never actually talked about this," Betty adds when she sees the discomfort spiking his body language. "And I also feel like we should. You know, just to see if we might be compatible in the future, too."

His tongue juts out from his lips, licks the roof of his mouth. "You know I haven't a choice in this matter. I'm destined to follow in my father's footsteps, being his only heir and all."

"Yes, I know that. But if given the option to pick, what'd you like to do in the future?"

Draco takes a sigh, rubs the muscles that hang from his brows. "I suppose - when I was younger, I'd always wanted to be an auror? Chief auror - if there's even a possibility I could have the position."

"Does that dream still remain?" she asks, a slight smile playing on her lips as she imagines a younger Draco, hearing about the underrepresented bunch of  ministry workers, and growing a fondness for the career.

He shakes his head. "Everyone's wanted to be an auror at one point of their childhood, for most, that wish doesn't come to fruition," he answers plainly, "I don't like to think about it now, know that it'd only be painful thinking about it when I can't act on it."

"That's not true, you know," she tells him pointedly, but it does not raise his spirits this night. "If this thing between Voldemort and Dumbledore ends well, Death Eaters may not be a thing anymore. You won't have to go along with your father's legacy - be a Death Eater, and you can follow your own path."

At the blatant mention of that undesired occupation, Draco's whole body tightens. She feels it beneath her head.

"If," he enunciates meaningfully.