Lustful ; Draco Malfoy

chapter thirty-seven ; restless.

DRACOS POV.

It's been a week since Draco last saw Elizabeth. And Draco wasn't the only one who'd noticed now.

Pretty much the whole year group had.

Everyone was trying to find out where she'd gone to, but no one could figure it out.

Draco couldn't even contact "home." She didn't have one.

Draco went about his day like any other day, by going to classes and dinner. Chilling with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Then going to bed.

But he'd spend the night in bed with no sleep. Every night for the last week.

Now usually him and Elizabeth would spend months without talking to each other, because they'd be trying to avoid each other.

But this time was different as he didn't know where she was.

He hoped that she had gone to stay with Jerome and Marion somewhere, that way he'd know she was safe and not lying in a ditch somewhere.

Draco did however have a horrible gut feeling. And Dracos gut feeling was never wrong.

Unfortunately, Draco didn't know where Jerome and Marion were, so he couldn't contact them to ask where she was.

Draco was heading back to the Slytherin common room to sit in his room and stare at the ceiling, getting ready for another restless and sleepless night.

"Blaise, I'm heading back to the dorm now." Draco said to Blaise.

"Alright mate, I'll be there in 10 minutes." Blaise replied, cuddling up to Luna.

Draco stood there and watched them for a split second, feeling grossed out for how close and snuggly they were. Draco wondered how people could be in relationships. He didn't do relationships.

Everyone he looked at recently made him feel sick to the stomach.

Draco walked out of the Great Hall and it was silent, and dark. The candles were flickering causing the corridor to appear haunted. No one else seemed to be around. He could hear the voices in the Great Hall become more distant.

The closer he'd got to the stairs, the darker it got. But Draco wasn't scared. That would be absurd. Draco never got scared. The only thing he was afraid of was his dad, and how much his dad worshipped the Dark Lord. Deep down, Draco didn't want anything to do with Voldemort.

Draco walked down the stairs carelessly, hoping he'd see El walk past him. Draco could understand why he kept thinking about her. Every little thing in his daily life made him think about her.

For example, his notebook, where at the start he had written down notes for when he was tutoring her in potions. His hoodies which she had worn after they'd have sex. The one hoody he found outside his bedroom door when she'd dumped his clothes on the floor after an argument. His bed, where he had stupidly kicked her out of when she was asking too many questions. The common room sofas, where she had found him on the verge of crying, and she hugged him. Comforted him even. The common room sofas also reminded him of when he snatched her diary out of her hands, and invaded her privacy by reading it.

Even his bedroom floor reminded him of her, because they had all spent many many nights smoking weed and drinking alcohol, talking bad about each other in front of each other.

"Draco." He heard a whisper from beside him. He was snapped out of his thoughts, hoping it was Elizabeth he had just heard, but it wasn't. It was Drusilla instead.