𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

fifty three

Betty wakes to the sound of the lock unlatching. Morning comes quickly, when she has been accompanied by her best friend the entire day yesterday.

The dungeon still looks the same regardless of it being day or night. It is always dark and eerie since they are underground. No crack of sunlight. No snow sipping through the vents.

"Is it food? Has food come?" To her side, Luna asks meekly, dreamily as she stirs awake. They are both sharing the tiny bed.

Luna had insisted last night that they both sleep on the narrow bed. She didn't want Betty sleeping on the cold, hard concrete floor, wouldn't even listen to the girl's protests.

It was undeniably crowded in the bed that night, expectedly. Betty thought she might never fall asleep as she stared thoughtlessly at the dirty ceiling.

"Lin?" Malfoy's daunting voice echoes through the dungeon, answering Luna's question.

Luna rests her head back on the flat pillow, discouraged. "You just go, Betts. I'm too tired to get up. You've been tossing and turning all night in your sleep. It was driving me insane."

Betty flips open the duvet. "I promise I'll come back for you."

Luna nods, the movement crumpling the covers of the pillow. "I know," she tells her, completely assured.

Betty lifts herself off the bed, feels the depth of the murky water in the dungeon swallow her feet. Her muscles are still aching from the hit she took yesterday, the little sleep she got the night before did not give much consolation.

Draco is standing at the top of the stairwell, waiting by the metal gate. He holds up a lantern lit brightly by a candle. His nose is wrinkled up, revolted by the smell that lurks within the basement.

He does not warrant himself a step down the stairwell even when Betty comes in sight, as if he wanted no less than to leave the devastation of his own's manor's basement.

When Betty finally sees him, the boy does not say a word to her. His face scrunches up, brows furrowed in slight repugnance, and perhaps... anger?

The walk to her room is silent. His demeanour is sharply callous. It is clear he doesn't want to speak to her but she notices that he hasn't looked at her once since they left the dungeon.

Betty's gaze lowers to her body, her dress. She realises how trivial she looks, with her dress crumpled from her stay at the dungeon, her brown hair tangled and wet. She feels greatly pathetic for herself.

They stop at the room of her door. It is still quiet in the manor. The activities of death eaters have yet to begin. Betty guesses it is only five in the morning, which is an unusual hour for Draco to wake. No wonder he is so grumpy.

Draco's shoulders are tense as he opens the door. Unable to bear the silent treatment, Betty asks, "Aren't you going to talk to me?"

She is relieved when he finally spins around to look at her. His jaw ticks and Betty feels guilty. "What's there to say? I'm sure you already know how stupid you've been."

The venom that bites his tongue hits Betty hard. She can think of a million ways to defend herself, to run her mouth as they usually do but an argument with him is not what she desires.