Draco Malfoy's Perspective

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Try Flimflara," Violet said three days later.

Draco scowled at her and she shrugged. "Hey. It might work. Don't be getting mad at me."

"Flimflara," he sneered, pointing at the cabinet. Nothing happened.

"Not like that." She rolled her eyes and stood up off the short pile of books she'd been sitting on. "Like this. Look, emphasis on flara. Flimflara." There was a spark, and quiet creaking. Draco sneered at her and she stepped back. "Just try it."

Producing a bird from a cage on the floor, he put it in the cabinet and closed the door. After a few seconds, he opened it again. It was gone. He closed the door, waited a few seconds, and opened it again. The bird flew out, then stumbled. Its wing was injured.

"Better," he admitted.

"So relax and quit being mad at me."

He shot her a glare. She put her hands on her hips. Staring at him helped her examine whether he'd been sleeping or not recently. He hadn't. She rolled her eyes and he huffed, turning away from her. "You're not doing anything helpful for yourself or anyone else by skipping sleep."

"I'm not skipping." He rubbed his eyes.

"Well then you're missing it. Go get some rest. I'll stay here."

He gave her a look, asking how stupid she was. "If I can't sleep at night, what makes you think I can during the day?"

"Go try. Black out the windows or something. Now." She pushed his shoulder toward the door and he walked out. She looked back at the cabinet and tapped her chin.

Sending Crabbe away, Draco walked down to the Slytherin dormitories and to his room. Being in the dungeons, they got very little light, so the fire provided most of it. He put out the fire and laid on his bed, closing his eyes. It was very comfortable.

"Avada Kadavra!"

His eyes flew open. That was his voice. His voice saying those words. It was his soon-to-be reality. He would say it. He had to. Everyone wanted him to; expected him to. He opposed Dumbledore. He opposed the Order. He had to do it.

Before long he realised that he'd been staring at the ceiling, and closed his eyes. Forced himself to not think those words again. But the reprecussions...

"How could you? I hate you, Malfoy!" That was not his voice. That was Violet's voice. Violet. He rolled onto his stomach.

"Don't ever speak to me again."

Violet again. She would say those things to him once he had done it. If that was the case, he wouldn't do it. But then he would die. His family would die. What was he thinking? He never had a choice. Why was he pretending that he did?

He turned back over and sighed, opening his eyes. Then he groaned and put his arm over his face. A few seconds later there was weight on his bed and his eyes popped open, his hand flying to his wand.

It was just Violet. She sat at the footboard and looked at him. He sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew you weren't sleeping. Whatever you think is going to go wrong or bad, it won't. Trust me. I won't let it."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do. I'm staying here until you fall asleep."

With that promise, she drew a leg up on the bed and stared at him. He grumbled to himself as he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Violet was here. She didn't hate him. She didn't even have to know he had done it. She would never know. Because he didn't want her to hate him. He would never want that.