Walking the Halls

Chapter 12

Draco's hand runs against the wall. The golden trio went to dinner and the others went with them. Draco planned to go, but he blinked and nearly passed out where he stood. Coughing slugs up was apparently a bit more tiring than he thought. He was too tired to want to eat and after all the slugs he wasn't hungry.

Kill. 

Oh. He's so exhausted he's hearing stuff. Voices echo through halls while no one is around. Sighing and shaking his head he continues to Gryffindor tower. He stumbles through the portrait to the common room and then up the stairs to the boys' dorm. He has no bed, but he can burrow Harry's until they return. An ever-changing castle should be able to add one more bed to a dorm room but that's too complicated. He pulls the blankets over his shoulders and sinks into the bed.

"Draco?" Harry asks.

He blinks. "Done with dinner?" he asks. 

He nods. He moves a piece of hair out of his face. 

"I'll move to a couch or something," he says.

"You look comfortable there. We can share, right?" he asks. He looks around the room and bites his lip.

Draco smiles. "Sure, Har. Thanks," he says. 

He clamors under the covers. 

Draco's eyes drift closed again. 

Dumbledore plummets out of the window. Draco failed, again. His godfather, someone who adores Dumbledore no matter how much he pretends not to, had to come in and finish the job. 

Draco's stomach clenches on nothing. He hasn't eaten in so long and he's tired. He put everything into this, and he failed. He wants to scream but can't. Snape turns back to them and talks but Draco can't hear anything outside his rushing blood. 

What makes his failure so much worse is that he's happy about it. He didn't want to succeed. Killing Dumbledore would have been the worst thing he'd ever done. He didn't want to. He never wanted to. He had to and now he has to act ashamed, but he isn't. 

"Do you think he died?" Ron asks. 

"I don't think so. It's only been a day and a half," Fred says.

"Oh, Merlin," George says, "You killed him, Ron, after your attack he became so exhausted he died." 

"Is that possible?" Ron asks. His voice shakes.

"Must be," George says. 

"He went to bed and will never awaken," Fred says.

Draco groans. 

Reggie coos.

"Morning, Reggie," he says, "You too, Ron, Fred, and George."

Draco opens his eyes. Ron's eyes are wide and lined with tears. 

"No, I did not die, Ronald. Just needed a day and a half of sleep apparently," he says.

He dives into him and wraps his arms around him. 

Draco's body goes stiff. He pats his back after a moment. "There, there," he says. 

"Welcome back, Draco," Fred says. 

He waves and smiles. "Bullying Ron while I nap?" he asks. 

"I would say you were in a light coma not a nap," George says. 

Draco shrugs. "Similar in my experience," he says. He has had spurts where he sleeps a long time. 

Ron sniffles.