Letters To A Friend (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

V.

The last day of September arrives almost too quickly, as if the days have blurred together in a hasty blink. Everything has shifted since the start of term—not only the unsettling rumours about You-Know-Who's return but also the suffocating presence of Umbridge, tightening her grip on Hogwarts with relentless fervour. Her watchful eye lingers everywhere, and the air feels thick with unease, her every decree a reminder of the tightening leash around our lives.

New notices are pinned to the walls outside the Great Hall every morning, each one more absurd than the last. It's as if she's slowly trying to squeeze the life out of us, inch by inch, rule by rule. The halls are quieter now, laughter less frequent, conversations more guarded.

Even the common room feels different. Hufflepuff, usually brimming with warmth, is subdued. People still try to carry on, to keep spirits high, but it's clear some are having difficulty. Forced smiles and half-hearted jokes hang in the air, failing to lift the growing sense of unease. We all feel it—something big is coming, and it's only a matter of time before everything changes.

I sit in the corner, trying to focus on my studies, but it's hard to concentrate with the constant reminders of our constrained reality. Each glance up from my work serves as a jarring reminder of how drastically things have changed. The weight of the new rules and the pervasive gloom make it feel like the walls are closing in.

Amidst all this, my grief over Cedric's death feels even more isolating. His absence is a poignant reminder of how quickly everything can unravel, and it's hard not to feel overwhelmed by the sense that the world is shrinking around me. I try to shake it off, but each day seems to blur together, and the weight of my sorrow makes even the most mundane tasks feel like climbing a mountain.

Lost in these thoughts, I barely notice as I make my way toward the Great Hall for dinner. The corridors are quieter than usual, and the buzz of students feels oddly distant, like I'm moving through a haze. I'm too preoccupied with my own turmoil to take much notice of anything until Hermione's voice cuts through my reverie.

"Hey, Dolly, wait up!"

I turn and see Hermione hurrying towards me, her brow furrowed in determination. Ron and Ginny aren't with her, which is a relief—I'm not sure I'm up for any family interactions right now.

Hermione's breath comes in slightly ragged bursts, as though she's been chasing me down the corridor. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?" she asks, her tone carrying a hint of something unspoken.

Tomorrow marks October 1st, the first opportunity for students to visit Hogsmeade this year. I brace myself for the usual question about joining her for a day out, but there's something different in her expression.

"Why? What's up?" I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Hermione's eyes flicker with urgency and secrecy. "I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Hog's Head with me."

I blink, taken aback. "The Hog's Head? Why there? It's hardly the place for hanging out."

She hesitates, biting her lip before responding. "It's important. I can't explain everything now, but trust me on this. It'll be worth your while."

Her insistence piques my curiosity despite my reluctance. I nod slowly. "Alright, then. I'll come."

Hermione's face brightens with relief. "Great. I promise it'll be worth it."

As we part ways and I enter the Great Hall, the usual cacophony of voices and laughter seems muffled. The familiar setting feels oddly distant, and as I take my seat, I try to push aside the thoughts of Cedric and the growing shadows of my worries. I focus on the comforting ritual of dinner, even if it's just a small comfort in the vast sea of my grief.