Remember when I loved you-drarry story

Chapter 6

When Harry anxiously sauntered into the Headmistress's office with McGonagall in the lead, it was significantly cold and dark inside, and the old trinkets and silver instruments on the spindle-legged tables cast long, surly shadows on the floor. The weather was still dismal and dreary. Violent winds lashed against the window panes, making them creak and rattle quietly, and the scent of the rain, crisp and clean, permeated the air. The storm pelted the Hogwarts grounds mercilessly outside, and he could see the poor trees in the distance through the windows, groaning and thrashing and swaying helplessly back and forth.

Harry shivered almost involuntarily, feeling disheartened and extremely low-spirited. In every aspect, it was a morose morning, and the gloomy atmosphere made him miserable.

The office itself had not changed much from when it was occupied by Dumbledore. The very last time Harry had been here was right after the war (yesterday didn't count, as he'd been too distracted and in an extreme state of shock to even care). It had been sort of restored and re-arranged since then. Broken objects had been accurately mended. Old, dirty implements had been polished and cleaned thoroughly. Debris and dust had been swept away, and the circular office was a lot more organized and pristine than before; not a thing was out of place.

Malfoy was seated rather stiffly in front of the Headmistress's desk, his grey gaze uneasy and unfocused, long, bony fingers fidgeting absently with a loose, fraying thread from his otherwise flawless school robes. His face was immensely gaunt and pale, as if he'd spent the night throwing up all over instead of sleeping peacefully.

McGonagall cleared her throat grimly, and Malfoy looked up immediately, his cold grey eyes flicking to Harry and stilling abruptly in shock, as if he'd not been expecting to meet Harry today.

The moment their eyes met, something sparked and crackled through Harry's veins like electricity, and his heart sank like never before. Enormous, turbulent waves of unfamiliar emotions rumbled through Harry immediately. He felt startled, and the strangely sensual dream he'd seen sailed back to fill him with both dread and desire. Similarly, several different emotions flitted across Malfoy's face, and his chillingly frosty gaze flickered with fierce, inextinguishable fury for a moment or two before returning to their indifferent, impassive stare.

"What is he doing here?" he sneered disdainfully, rising to his feet with a look of pure displeasure on his face.

The overwhelming, all-consuming surge of painful feelings inside Harry promptly settled at the bottom of his stomach like a heavy load, his insides pulled tight and taut. A weird mixture of thoughts was spiralling inside his head. He felt as if he had a lot to say, but nothing concrete and worth divulging really came to his mind, and he could hardly even feel his lips; they were so utterly numb and unmoving.

Suddenly, all he could think was that he would've been delighted to be anywhere but here. Painfully and longingly, he thought of his friends and the sweet, comforting scenery down below. He could almost see, in his mind's eye, the peaceful, mundane scene play out as usual. He could clearly hear the flurry of excited footsteps ringing out in the brightly-lit corridors as students gradually became more alert and active and bustled out of their warm seats, chattering and laughing without a care as they scuttled out to their classes after a hearty breakfast.

Oh, how he wished he was there instead.

Professor McGonagall quietly and primly ambled to her chair and plopped down. "Sit down, Mr Malfoy," she advised solemnly. "I have something of the utmost importance to tell you —"

"Well, I have nothing to say to him," snarled Malfoy furiously, folding his arms across his chest and frowning deeply. "And I don't understand why he has to be here. You asked me to come here to discuss something important, but I was not properly informed of this —"