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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Draco's POV:

Spring was coming slowly this year, as if someone were purposefully dragging it out as long as possible. The grass was taking its sweet time poking itself up through the melting snow and the buds on the trees were refusing to open.

Spring was my favorite season. I loved the feeling of the humid air right before a thunderstorm, and the crispness of the chilly morning air.

I sat perched in the window of the Slytherin common room after classes were over watching an odd, blue fish pick at a strand of seaweed when the news reached me. As if by some cruel joke, Blaise was the one to tell me.

"Hey, Malfoy," Zabini greeted swiftly, taking a seat on the windowsill beside me.

"Zabini," I replied simply, not taking my eyes off of the fish.

"How's it going?" He pulled his legs up in front of him and rested his forearms on his knees.

"It's going," I muttered. Blaise knew what was going on in my life. He always knew even though no one ever told him.

"It sure is," he chuckled, staring out into the lake.

For a few moments, I allowed myself to believe that Zabini had simply wanted my company with no ulterior motive, but I was wrong.

I thought back to how good of friends we used to be in our youth. We would pick on the younger students together before Lizzie told us off. We would copy homework from Lizzie, who sat by frowning disapprovingly. We would practice quidditch together on the pitch when no one else was around. I would be a keeper for him to help improve his chasing skills, and he would play a few seekers games with me before we turned in.

Those were the good old days. What I wouldn't give to go back.

"Did you hear about Weasley?" Zabini spoke suddenly, pulling me from my reminiscing.

"No," I frowned.

"Honestly, I swear you live under a rock sometimes."

"I've been too busy for gossip lately, Zabini," I snapped.

"This isn't just gossip though," he smirked.

"Well, tell me then."

Just then, the common room entrance opened and a disheveled Lizzie flew in, her head swiveling. As if reading her mind, I raised my hand from my spot near the window and she spotted me.

"We need to talk," she panted, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"He was poisoned," Zabini drawled. Both Lizzie and I snapped our heads towards him.

"What?"

"Draco, please," Lizzie said, exasperatedly. I grasped Lizzie's hand and without saying goodbye to Zabini, the two of us left the common room.

Once we were in the corridor, we ducked into the first empty classroom we could find. Lizzie insisted that I cast a silencing and locking spell on the room before she spoke.

It was a dusty room that made me want to gag. It had definitely not been used for ages according to the layer of dust that coated the floor. As the two of us stepped, we kicked up clouds of the stuff.

"Blaise wasn't lying. Ron was poisoned. I only just found out." She began to chew on her lip and pick at the hem of her sleeve.

"Okay, but why did we have to leave the common room to talk about this?" I asked.

"That's the thing. He was poisoned by mead."

"Alright." I quirked my eyebrow and waited for her to expand on her statement.