PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

54

It's after Easter and after Apparition tests when I can't avoid Harry Potter any longer. I've spent time with Draco but only in the boathouse since then. Only once, and when he left so quickly before I even had my shirt on, I cursed him out. I haven't properly seen him since. Harry either, although that isn't unexpected. I don't know Harry Potter.

Then, I'm walking towards Burbage's classroom to try and study since the library is packed with fifth and seventh years. It's May and exams are closer than ever. I hear gasps further down the hallway, and then I spot Harry sprinting down the hall toward Gryffindor tower, drenched in water and covered in blood.

Somehow, I know.

I sprint to the boathouse. Without thinking about it. The pale, ink-stained hands in my dreams. It was never merfolk or thoughts or what have you. It was Draco. This whole time it was Draco drowning in the lake, reaching out to me, begging for help.

I approach the Great Lake from the top of the hill. The water is undisturbed. The snow is long melted, the ground wet from rain. I keep sprinting. My feet slip in the mud beneath me and I smash into the ground. Teeth chomp down on my tongue. Blood pools in my mouth. I spit it up and pull myself up. I feel dizzy. My side is slicked with muck.

"Draco," I only whisper the name, worried anyone else will hear it.

I look down at the water. I'm not even sure where to begin. I don't have the Sagum on me. The Sagum doesn't even work right. It's something else.

It's irrational. It could be anything. There could be Death Eaters on the grounds. Ron Weasley was in the hospital a few weeks ago after he drank something, and there's a rumour it was poison. Katie Bell had to go St. Mungo's for a large chunk of last term after she was bewitched in Hogsmeade. Not everything is about Draco.

It doesn't matter. It could be him. It could be his blood on Harry Potter's clothing.

I get back into the castle, and by then everyone is abuzz. Moaning Myrtle has gone around shouting through all the bathrooms. Harry attacked Draco in the bathroom. It was Draco.

People are whispering about it, talking all around me. All I can do is keep my head down. Draco is alive. He's alive at the very least, but he's been sent to the infirmary. I cannot go visit him. He didn't visit me when I cursed myself.

I've got my apparition license now, but I've got nowhere to go. Instead, I find myself down by the lake. Since Draco is not released the next day, nor the next. The pattern continues. Between classes, in the evenings, during meals, skipping alchemy, whenever I can get there, I'm down at the lake. Pansy is running around the castle calling Harry rotten names. I can't avoid the reminder of Draco's injury\

One night, I'm sitting in the Common Room elbow-deep in the third muggle book I've read that week. My book of oil pastels is on the bench next to me as a buffer. I'm still rotten at it, but I'm not drawing the Great Lake anymore. Now, I'm working on phoenixes. My fingers are stained red from the oils.

I try not to listen to Mandy as she sits down across from me at the table. It appears she's gossiping with Padma. To be fair, Padma looks as disinterested as I am.

"And so Lavender says that Harry said it was an unforgivable?"

I start to listen. Maybe I should have bothered with Mandy if just to have a tap into castle gossip. I've never been that interested in other people, but it's impossible to hear information about Draco without hearing other people ask about it.

Padma sighs, "well, I suppose. Lavender was more upset that Ron was there, but-"

"An unforgivable? At Hogwarts?" Mandy shivers. "I mean, I can't imagine. Do you remember how Neville Longbottom looked when fake Professor Moody used the Crucitas Curse on a spider? How funny was that?"