The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

44. Scars

The following morning, Sloane woke to chaos. A loud bang echoed through the dormitory. For one horrifying second, her nightmare-riddled brain immediately assumed the worst.

Attack. Danger. Someone hurt.

Her eyes flew open. She shot upright—

And immediately smashed her forehead into something solid above her.

"Ow!"

A second voice cursed at exactly the same moment. "Ouch! Fuck, that hurt!"

The familiar voice made Sloane blink rapidly. The room slowly came into focus. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Blankets were everywhere. Half-empty mugs sat abandoned on tables. Sheets of parchment covered every available surface.

And apparently...

Nobody had gone to bed. At least not properly.

The previous night's meeting had clearly carried on until everyone simply passed out wherever they happened to be sitting.

Blaise was currently sprawled on the floor beside an armchair, looking deeply offended by gravity.

"What happened?" Harry asked groggily.

"Blaise the idiot fell off the sofa," Ginny informed him.

Blaise stared at the sofa. Then at the floor. Then back at the sofa. "I was attacked."

"You rolled over."

"It was violent."

"It was six inches."

"Still counts."

The room slowly filled with sleepy laughter.

Goose was having the time of his life. The tiny creature bounced from person to person like a furry social butterfly. One moment he was sitting on Luna's shoulder. The next he was climbing onto Ron's chest. Then Harry's lap. Then Hermione's arm. Collecting attention from everyone.

Meanwhile Sloane rubbed her forehead. "What did I hit?" Her voice came out muffled.

"Me."

She turned. And immediately realised why she'd hit something. Or rather...

Someone.

Draco was sitting beside her. Very close beside her. Apparently sometime during the night they'd both shifted in their sleep.

Quite a lot.

The blankets had tangled around them. One of Draco's arms was trapped beneath a cushion. And judging by their positions...

He'd been leaning over her when she sat bolt upright.

Sloane frowned. "Why were you leaning over me?"

Draco looked equally confused. "I wasn't trying to." His hand moved to his mouth. "I think I must've shifted in my sleep." Then he winced. "Sweet fuck, I think I bit my lip."

Sloane immediately noticed the blood. Quite a lot of blood. Draco pulled his hand away. Bright red stained his fingers. "Ouch."

Harry immediately pointed. "Mate, that's disgusting."

"Helpful."

"You're welcome."

Sloane sighed. The cut actually looked fairly nasty. Nothing serious. But enough to sting. Enough to bleed.

And under normal circumstances she would've healed it immediately. Unfortunately. Her brain chose that exact moment to remember the previous day. "Do you at least clean the couch before your next patient?"