dear draco,

twenty-nine

I miss the way you looked in the morning, the way you smiled with tired eyes... Good morning, I love you. Goodnight, I love you... How your bones fitted perfectly against mine. I miss you so, so much.

-

As usual, when Christmas ends and the new year begins, everyone is filled with a false sense of hope. Like writing a different date at the top of our many assignments will allow for change in the world. The first day of a new year isn't any different from the days before it, but students swarm back into Hogwarts with a refreshed sense of determination, and a refreshed hatred for the Carrows and Snape.

I am waiting, waiting for news, waiting to know that Harry has made progress in his disappearance. To defy all the people who claim he has fled; who call him a coward. Waiting for a day that I am sure will come, but it might be tomorrow, or it might be years from now. The not knowing drives me crazy. But with Dumbledore dead and Harry gone, the only thing we can turn to for hope is ourselves. I didn't realise that until now. We have that power.

These days, what I am also waiting for is Luna's return. On the train home before Christmas, Death Eaters came on board to take her, because of her dad's anti-Death Eater approach in the Quibbler. Ginny keeps insisting she's probably at home now with her dad, but if she was, she would contact us. Just a word to let us know she's safe. Luna at home with her father is a nice idea, but I know in my heart it's not true.

"I keep hoping she'll pop up at breakfast one day," I say to Ginny and Neville as we head out to the Great Hall. I picture Luna waiting for us at one of the long tables, smiling and serene. But days keep passing by, and the time that she's been gone is only getting longer.

"Do you think she's..." Neville pauses, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Do you think she's still okay?"

I shudder. "I don't want to think about it."

Ginny bites her lip as we climb out of the common room. "I know it's horrible to think about," she says. "Poor Luna. But she's probably locked up somewhere, and I think we should do our best to find her and get her out. She'd do the same for..." Ginny trails off. I follow her eyes on the bottom of the staircase, where Draco leans against a pillar, looking nervous. His hair is more unruly than I've ever seen it.

I nod awkwardly to Ginny and Neville, whose worried expressions have turned into ones of spite. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

I've managed to avoid Draco for the past few weeks, looking away whenever his eyes lock onto mine, staring at the floor whenever he passes by. I may also have turned around to hide when I saw him approaching. Once or twice.

But as I approach him, I know by the grim expression on his face that there is no escaping what I'm about to hear. "We need to talk," he says finally, watching me approach.

I try to look confident. "I don't think we do."

"Yes, we do," Draco replies evenly. His eyes are watchful, intimidating. "What you did before Christmas was wrong, and you can't do anything like that again. Okay?"

"Oh, so it was entirely my fault?" I ask. "If you didn't keep leading me into situations like that-"

"That was all you!"

I scoff. "You should get your head out of your ass."

Draco doesn't flinch. "And you should stop turning to alcohol to fix your problems."

"Excuse me? What I did was a drunken mistake, but that doesn't mean I'm a raging alcoholic-"

"Drunken mistakes don't exist," Draco says roughly. He's rattled too, I can tell – his brow is furrowed and his foot taps against the ground. "Not unless we are drunk to the point where we don't know what's going on, which you were not. I know you meant what you said, and you need to stop meaning it."