An American At Hogwarts: Book Three

Chapter Eighty

As I stepped through my sling portal and into the Slytherin dorm, I was immediately struck by how much darker it was than my dorm in the Gryffindor Tower. It distracted me from my goal for a minute, especially because the whole place just felt cold.

That could've been down to design choice, though. I was willing to bet Jackson and Adrian had made some changes to the default setting, so to speak.

I heard a little strangled noise of surprise behind me, which dragged me back to the moment. I shut the sling portal and turned around to find Draco, luckily alone, staring at me like I'd just crawled out of a horror movie. And to be fair, I had just appeared out of nowhere.

The covers on his bed were torn up and strewn around, and a few things like his trunk and nightstand were beatup and overturned. Draco's hair and clothes were a mess, and I could see the dark bags under his eyes from almost across the room. My heart clenched.

"Draco... look, I came to say I'm sorry about what happened with your dad. I... I wanted to swing by and check in on you. Just kind of see how you're doing."

I watched Draco's expression cycle through about a thousand different emotions, then land on anger.

"You wanted to what?" he snapped, practically shouting at me. I grimaced, but didn't move. Hopefully no one was close enough to the dorm to hear this and come to investigate. "How dare you come here. How dare you try to 'check on me'? We're not friends! And you're the reason he's in jail in the first place!"

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to navigate the situation in front of me, but Draco continued before I could.

"I read the bloody paper, I know you went after Potter and the rest of them after they attacked us in Umbridge's office. You caused this problem! So just fuck off!"

I worked very, very hard to keep any hint of pity off of my face, because I knew it would just light Draco up more. His usually pale complexion was almost completely red, and as he moved, the low light in the room reflected the slightest glimmer gathering in his eyes. He had and created a lot of issues, but at the end of the day, he was still fifteen years old. His dad was a terrible person who'd caused him a lot of pain, but that didn't mean recent events weren't absolutely destorying the very foundations of Draco's life right now, in a way he'd never experienced. When I spoke, I made sure my voice was absolutely calm and my posture relaxed.

"Draco, I get why you're upset, and I am truly, seriously sorry that you're suffering because of what happened. But," I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I was about to say next. There was serious potential for this to backfire in my face, but it was the truth, and I felt like Draco needed to hear it, "your dad is not a good man. He tried to kill me yesterday, and the only reason I'm still here is because he didn't realize I had armor on my chest that took the hit from the killing curse instead. He's in jail, not because of me, but because of his own actions. But I do wish it hadn't come to this at all, Draco, seriously. And I wish it wasn't hurting you."

Draco looked like I'd just punched him in the stomach. He had a thousand yard stare going at some point just over my shoulder, and it had first materialized when I'd told him his dad had tried to kill me. I just waited, letting him process, but after a while I realized he might not be able to process for a long, long time. He looked almost paralyzed, and so after another minute with no change, I took a few steps towards him. I got close enough to put a hand on his shoulder, and the minute I did, his head snapped up to look at me. His expression was practically twitching, fighting between a reflexive scowl and something else that looked more like the precursor to tears.

I wanted to pull him into a hug, badly, but he looked scared and overwhelmed enough as it was. So instead, I reached down to grab his arm, pulling it up so I could put a little beacon-like button of a Stark device in his hand.