Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Eight

A/N My summer camp has ended, and I have a little less then a month until school starts, so hopefully updates will be more frequent! I'd love to get to the fourth book by that time, but I can't promise anything...thank you all! I hope you're enjoying the book!

Hermione, Ron and I go back to the castle after I explain everything. I feel awful, like I've ruined their trip, but they're being so nice to me that I don't see any evidence that supports them thinking that. We meet with Harry in the hall before heading to dinner together.

"So what did Lupin want?" Ron asks as we walk through the corridor.

"Well...he's offered to give me lessons to fight dementors," he says hesitantly. I think back to the trip here, when the dementor had gotten onto the train. I shiver at the memory alone, frowning.

"How could you fight a thing like that?" Hermione voices my thoughts, her tone uneasy.

"There's a spell for it," he explains vaguely, walking into the Great Hall. We follow him to the table, Ron sitting next to him while Hermione and I sit straight across from them. The arrangement has become a sort of habit, working itself out without any discussion.

As the conversation progresses, I can't stop my mind from going back to the incident with Malfoy.

I suddenly feel another shiver run through me. My eyes snap up to see him staring at me from his table. His expression is unreadable, and he looks away as soon as our eyes meet. I narrow my eyes and put my fork down, standing up.

"If you all don't mind, I'm going to go to bed early," I say. I'm certain that if this were any other night, Hermione would have insisted that she come with me; even Harry or Ron would offer to walk me back and hang out in the common room if I wanted. However, tonight Hermione jumps to my rescue when she sees the look I give her.

"That's alright. I'll probably be up soon," she says.

I smile. "Goodnight."

Ron and Harry each repeat the word before I leave, making my way to the Gryffindor common room.

As I approach the hallway that leads to the Fat Lady's portrait, I notice a feeling of panic in the surrounding paintings. I frown, my eyes darting around, landing on each face. I find my pace quickening.

I completely stop in my tracks, however, when I see the entrance to the Gryffindor tower.

I feel my chest tighten at the sight before me. The Fat Lady's portrait is ruined, torn apart. My hand subconsciously makes its way to cover my mouth as I back away. I frantically turn to the nearest portrait, my eyes wide as I try to think of what I should do.

"It was Sirius!" the man in the painting cries out. "Sirius Black!"

I no longer hesitate, wondering what to do. I turn, and I run.

I don't know where I'm heading, but thankfully, very soon, I see a familiar face. I quickly slow to a stop in front of Neville, breathing heavily. His face already seems pale, but seeing the look on my face, it further drains of color.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, what's wrong?" he asks, his eyes widening.

"The Fat Lady," I rush out. "The painting, it's ruined, I don't know-I don't know what to-"

"Ruined?" Neville echoes, cutting me off. "Slow down, Elizabeth, what's going on?"

"Sirius Black was here," I finally force out.

••••••••••

"I can't believe this," Hermione whispers to me. We're carrying blankets into the Great Hall, preparing for a night away from our normal tower. Professors are working on fixing the portrait, while others are questioning the surrounding portraits and looking for evidence that Sirius Black truly was here. The remaining teachers are carrying in blankets with the students.