In The Eyes of Us [DRACO MALFOY]

IV

MATURE CONTENT: Use of  drugs and other susbstances, Cussing

November 1997

Annika.

Running through the Hogwarts hallways has never been my forte. I nearly took a tumble down the rotating stairs, and to add insult to injury, the portrait lady had the audacity to comment on my eyes, calling them "dead." What does that even mean? I've always been told I have exceptionally pretty eyes; even my orbs change color in the sunlight.

When I woke up, my hair had mysteriously grown a few inches and I had proper bangs. And before I knew it, half of Slytherin seemed to be sporting the same hairstyle. It's like I started a trend without even trying. And don't even get me started on the state of my tights; those stairs are a menace.

As for the Room of Requirement, well, I'm drawing a blank. I can't remember where it is, and I haven't seen Malfoy or Riddle since I spied on Katie Bell.

Malfoy must be reveling in the fact that I haven't bothered him for the past couple of weeks. But that's about to change. I had some scores to settle with him, and he was about to find out I wasn't one to mess with.

He completely ruined my buzz. For the first time, even with a handful of pills coursing through me like electricity, I felt strangely angry. And Malfoy was to blame.

Merlin, my feet are killing me.

But heavens, I love these heels. I've got to hand it to myself; I'm proud of pulling off this look. Despite the ache in my feet, I couldn't help but feel a sense of power as I strutted down the hallway.

Why are these hallways so bright? Shouldn't they be dark and ominous? Although, I must admit, the red lanterns do have a certain charm, and the windows here are surprisingly wide. I don't think I've ever been to this part of the castle, or maybe I just don't remember.

As I spot that familiar bright blonde head in the distance, my heart quickens its pace. What's Malfoy doing by the window? I rush towards him, but he seems lost in his own world, oblivious to my approach. Well, that's a first. But the moment I draw closer, the ecstatic buzz in my head begins to fade.

He wears that same look he always does, and it stings to see him like this. He's like a ghost from the past, reminding me of the boy I once knew, the boy I once—

liked

But that boy is long gone, replaced by a man I can barely recognize. He grips an apple, idly nibbling on it with his fingernail.

Suddenly, I feel uneasy. When I place my hand on his cheek, he reacts swiftly, gripping my neck before quickly releasing it. As I press both my hands against his warm skin, he shoots me a questioning look.

"What are you doing here?" he whispers, his voice sharp and cold, snapping me back to reality. His feverish condition is evident, despite his attempt to mask it. He pushes my body against his, and I can't help but notice the warmth oozing through his body.