Inferno | Draco Malfoy

084 | Bare One's Soul

Throughout my life, I have never experienced such profound appreciation for the opportunity to rest in an environment where sunlight is not able to be met through the curtains. The dimness creates an ideal setting for my current state of mind, for if I even consume a beam of sunshine, I'll burn like a vampire.

I attempt to raise my hand to remove my blanket, immediately regretting the action as my hand feels heavy. I then lift my head from my pillow, only to experience another wave of regret as a persistent throbbing in my head intensifies, causing significant discomfort and a growing sense of pressure. As I rub my temple and smack my lips together, I notice the dryness in my mouth and the parched sensation in my throat. I have no idea how long I've slept, but everyone else in my dormitory is still sleeping, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of fatigue. Overall, I find myself in a state of discomfort and general malaise.

The events of last night are a hazy recollection, leading me to believe that I may have lost consciousness at some point. Although I find myself in my own dormitory, dressed in my own clothes, a sense of disorientation accompanied by deep regret regarding my actions continues to follow me. The discomfort I am experiencing far outweighs any temporary pleasure that alcohol might have provided me.

Yesterday night marks my first experience with excessive drinking, and the memories are practically nonexistent, leaving me to contend with a stupid hangover.

With effort, I extend my hand toward my nightstand and pull open the top drawer. After a moment of searching and fumbling through the contents, I finally grasp my pocket watch, which feels both cool and heavy in my palm. The sight of the Roman numerals causes an eye roll, and I toss it back into the drawer, unwilling to waste my brain power on deciphering the time.

Although I am experiencing weakness and bodily pain, I recognise that the most effective course of action is to expel all the beverages I have consumed, for I am nauseous, and find myself coughing as I rush towards the bathroom.

I retch, an ugly noise leading from the depths of my throat, prompting me to cover my mouth in a desperate attempt to suppress the urge to expel its contents. For a moment, I wonder about the disturbing thought of choking on my own vomit. However, before I can contemplate that notion further, my eyelids close tightly, and my throat heaves once more as a thick substance surges upward from my aching stomach. I allow it to fill my mouth and spill forth repeatedly. With each splatter that strikes the sink, I sense a gradual alleviation in my stomach, and I am able to breathe again; it feels as though fresh air is finally entering my lungs.

Hands that are not my own begin to assist me, for one hand strikes my back forcefully, causing me to retch once more, while another hand gathers my hair, tenderly smoothing it down. I glance at the mirror above to identify who is doing what. Pansy, yawning, is the one delivering the hits to my back, while Daphne, with a curled lip yet a sympathetic expression, is the one caressing my hair.

"Is she alright?" Tracey's voice resonates as I catch a glimpse of her reflection by the door. She holds a goblet of water and enters the bathroom just as I give her a thumbs-up. "Never thought I would see you drunk, Adria, oh how the tables have turned." She remarks, coughing at the pungent odour of stale alcohol.

Experiencing the sensation of my head being stabbed, I let out a groan of pain and accept the water that Tracey presents to me. The water is paradoxically delightful and repugnant; it quenches my intense thirst yet is marred by a bitter and unpleasant flavour lingering in my mouth. Despite this, I continue to sip it in small amounts, occasionally spitting it out to try and rid of the taste in my mouth.

"Merlin's Beard." Milly yawns, still tired. "How much did you have to drink?"

"I have no idea." I shake my head.