Chapter 15: Stories

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Chapter 15

Draco sat next to a simple fire set outside the bizarre Lovegood's wizarding tent

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Draco sat next to a simple fire set outside the bizarre Lovegood's wizarding tent. He had a small cup of freshly brewed tea nestled in his hands, heating him so the chilly October air didn't settle too deep. Lovegood had given them some fruit, the last of her stores. She said they might as well eat them up before they all went bad. On the horizon, the first glimmer of daylight started to show as the night sky started to lighten. He could not wait to curl up on whatever surface he could find and finally sleep.

Hermione's brown eyes were lit amber as she stared into the flames, her curly hair was a wild mess around her head, her cloak tattered and blood stained from their long day's trials. Around her neck, her arm was hanging in a makeshift sling, the ripped shirt that made it up fraying at the edges. Draco felt a small sliver of guilt nag at him as he eyed her broken arm.

Draco knew he should try to mend it. He owed her. If she hadn't nearly spent herself trying to heal his leg, he would have been long dead by now. Perhaps tomorrow after he had gotten some rest. Right now, if there was any magic left in him it wouldn't do anyone any good. He was too tired.

The mental picture of his own face with dead eyes dragging his broken leg behind him as he chased after Hermione and Zabini flashed before his eyes, making him shudder.

Dying was terrifying enough, but dying and turning into one of them? That was a nightmare Draco didn't want to have to face. But, if the world continued to stay as it was, if the cure or fix for this mysterious illness -- as Hermione put it -- was never found, it was just a matter of time until they all turned into the strange breed of inferi that now haunted them.

Across from him, Zabini was flipping his knife dangerously, twirling it around his finger's in a way that made Draco cringe to watch. One wrong move and he could lose a digit altogether.

To Draco's left sat Luna, her pale blonde hair nearly glowing under the last rays of moonlight. She looked content as she sipped her tea as if sitting around the fire in the abandoned Quidditch Stadium with Merlin knows what surrounding them, didn't phase her.

He could no longer contain his curiosity. "So, Lovegood. What happened to you?"

Her eyes slowly moved up to his from where they had been enraptured with her tea. She blinked at him slowly. "Nothing really. I just arrived here with the portkey my father gave me." She looked off over the fire to where an old beat up boot sat. Likely the portkey she spoke of. "He and Rolf were supposed to join me, but they haven't come yet."

Draco cringed, already regretting asking the question. It was rumored the grandson of Newt Scamander -- Rolf Scamander, and Lovegood were dating. Draco had always found the pairing to be a rather strangely perfect match for how unique the two individuals were. However, Scamander not showing up along with Lovegood's father when they said they would likely didn't mean anything good.

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