Your Grief is My Grief [DM] sequel to Beauty and the Beast

Chapter Five

Lizzie's POV:

I sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as far away from the Head Table as possible, hanging half off of the bench. The guilt of what I would have to do by the end of the school year was like a tendril of ice twisting itself around my innards. Would it eventually freeze my heart? Would I become what I always swore I wouldn't?

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Goose Skin raced its way down my arms. I felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on me. It felt as if everyone in the Great Hall was watching me, like everyone knew what I had been tasked to do.

These thoughts along with many others were all running through my head as I sat there waiting for Draco. Whatever he had to do on the train was taking too long for my taste and causing me even more anxiety.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise sat around me, leaving a place for Draco directly next to me. I was thankful for the space, but wished I had more.

I had just about decided to go looking for Draco when he came sulking into the Great Hall, hands in his pockets and head pointed towards the ground. When he brought his head up, he looked along the table until he saw me and immediately made his way towards me. Sitting down next to me, he placed a kiss on my cheek.

"What'd you have to do?" I asked him impatiently as he laid a hand on my knee. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and began to chew on it.

"Tell you later," he whispered, glancing across the table to Pansy, who was talking animatedly with Theo about Merlin knows what. I wanted to demand that he tell me here and now, but knowing who was around us, I chose to hold my tongue. There is a time and place for everything. I would just have to remember to ask him about it later.

My eyes involuntarily flickered behind Draco's head and up to the Head Table, where the Headmaster was sitting patiently as the last of the students trickled in to their seats. My stomach lurched dangerously at his appearance for Dumbledore looked older and more fragile than I had ever seen him in the five years I had been attending his school. His brilliantly blue eyes locked on mine and for a moment we just watched each other until he nodded his head ever so slightly and continued to watch the students who were entering the room.

I turned my head too, to see who was coming into the room. The seemingly last student to arrive was none other than Harry Potter, who was holding a white cloth to his nose that was stained red with blood. I furrowed my eyebrows in concern for the boy. The front of his robes were also tinged with red.

Beside me, Draco was staring at his hands which were folded precariously in front of him on the table. He was refusing to look up.

The connections were made in my head in milliseconds.

Harry had been the one in the Slytherin compartment. That's what Draco had to 'take care of' on the train. Draco had done that to Harry.

Despite my new findings, I kept my mouth closed, promising myself to talk to Draco about this later. I gave Draco a pointed look from the corner of my eye, he, however, didn't notice, because he was still staring at his hands guiltily.

The sorting seemed to drag on for ages. I sat with my hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of my robe, a habit I had acquired over the summer along with the habit of chewing on my lips. Yet finally, after Samantha Yang was sorted into Gryffindor, a plethora of food appeared in front of me. Suddenly I was aware of how little of an appetite I had at the moment.

"You have to eat something," Draco murmured, noticing the lack of food on my plate, but when I looked over, his looked just the same as mine.

"I'll eat if you do," I bargained, not wanting him to go hungry.