The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

41. She Keeps Me Up

Draco returned to Hogwarts with the rest of the students just as evening was beginning to settle over the castle. The sky outside the enchanted windows had deepened into shades of violet and navy, and the warm glow spilling from the Great Hall doors promised dinner, conversation, and a brief escape from the chill creeping through the corridors.

Normally, that would have been enough.

Tonight, it wasn't.

His eyes searched the crowd almost immediately. Every face. Every table. Every corner.

But she wasn't there.

His stomach sank.

The noise of hundreds of students talking and laughing suddenly seemed distant as he stood in the doorway, scanning the room one more time. Sloane always stood out to him now. Somehow his eyes found her before anyone else these days.

Except today. Today there was nothing. No wild dark hair. No sarcastic smile. No Goose perched nearby causing chaos.

Just an empty feeling settling heavily in his chest.

Draco clenched his jaw and turned away. Maybe she was working. Maybe she had already eaten.

Maybe—

Maybe she was avoiding him.

That possibility stung more than he cared to admit.

Without bothering to sit down, he headed straight for her office. The corridors were growing busier as students made their way to dinner, but Draco barely noticed them. His thoughts were too busy replaying Astoria's words.

My boyfriend.

Merlin.

Just thinking about it made his blood boil again. He reached Sloane's office and knocked firmly.

Nothing.

He waited. Still nothing.

He pushed the door open slightly.

Empty.

A knot formed in his stomach. He closed it again and headed toward her bedroom. When he arrived outside her door, he hesitated for a moment before knocking.

Three sharp raps echoed through the corridor. "Sloane?"

Silence.

He frowned. Knocked again. "Sloane?"

Nothing. Not even movement from inside.

His shoulders sagged.

Either she wasn't there...

Or she didn't want to answer. Neither option made him feel particularly good.

Draco leaned his forehead briefly against the door before stepping back. "Brilliant," he muttered.

He felt like a complete idiot. Worse than an idiot. He felt guilty. Because if Astoria's ridiculous little performance had upset Sloane, then somehow he was responsible for that.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

By the time he reached his own room again, he was practically fantasising about shaving Astoria Greengrass bald while she slept.

The image was surprisingly satisfying. Boyfriend. He scoffed aloud. The nerve of her. They had never dated. Never courted. Never even held a proper conversation longer than a few minutes.

Yes, years ago there had been discussions. His father had spoken with the Greengrasses. Pure-blood families did that sort of thing. Courtships. Matches. Political alliances disguised as romance. Draco remembered being young when Lucius had first brought it up. He had hated the idea immediately. The thought of being told who he could spend the rest of his life with had felt suffocating. Then his father had risen higher in Voldemort's ranks, and suddenly marriage negotiations became irrelevant.