WILD FLOWERS ✿ d.malfoy

39.

The entire group walks in unison out of the hall and towards the dungeons. I let Adira's hand around me, guide me, still too shaken up by what had happened. The torches flicker as we pass them by, the dungeons fairly cold. We don't head to the Common room, instead make a de-tour to another room, a hallway down.

The room is large enough to accommodate a hundred people comfortably. The same dark brick is used to make the walls and ceilings as the whole of the dungeons; the same thick glass to give us the oh-so-gorgeous view of the Hogwarts grounds.

The room is divided into two – a seating/living area that lead into the walls curving inwards, forming a semi-circle into a dining room. The inner proxemics are lined with jersey's and awards and all the Slytherin colors and news articles about famous Quidditch players. Lights were scarce, the room gave off a haunting and mysterious aura – which was oddly soothing.

Everyone took their places around the table, Adira patting the empty chair between her and Malfoy. I sit down, breathing deeply.

"Anyone wanting to break a wall?" Warrington asks. There's a ripple of chuckles, he frowns. "What? I'm not kidding. I need to doze off some steam."

"Actually," the Fawley's say, "I'd like that." Everyone nods in agreement, cracking knuckles.

"Woah, woah, woah," Montague cautions, "let's not breaks walls."

There is a collective groan. I sit fixedly in my seat, eyeing the people around me.

Montague flips out his wand and conjurs up a target with Smith's face in the middle and a box of darts. My eyes widen as I bounce in my seat. He levitates the target to the far end of the room and places a dart in front of me, smiling gently. I look up at him, my mouth slightly agape.

"Your shot first," he says softly. I smile up at him and pick the shiny metal dart, spinning it in between my fingers. The team cheers me on. I smirk as I face the target. Shooting it, the drat pierces the target – Smith's broad forehead – in exactly the centre. The team cheers and high-fives me as they fight to do it first. I laugh seeing them suddenly act like kids – not even Montague bothers stopping them as he opens one of the cabinets that lines the wall and brings out two glass bottles containing a frothy yellow liquid and conjures up eight glasses.

Filling them up while barking at the Fawleys to get off the table, he seems so carefree. He winks at me when he sees me looking, I grin. A few moments later, Malfoy is hurling up the target (Zacharias Smith's face), which is now cut up so brutally, it looks like it was mauled and devoured by hungry wolves.

"Fuck you, Zacharias Smith!" he yells, setting the last bit of it on fire. The burning piece of cardboard hangs in mid-air, slowly disintegrating as we all stamp it, yelling beautiful strings of curses at the blonde bloke.

"Let's all clink our glasses," Montague says loudly all of us have calmed down a bit. Raising our glasses, we clink them together. "To an undying team spirit!"

"To our undying team spirit!"

Taking a deep swig, I let out a contended sigh.

Warrington and Pucey proceed to bring on a game of Wizard's Chess, moving to the living area and taking to the floor. The Fawley's hype them up by doing weird cheer dances. I laugh at them from my seat on the table, slowly sipping the butter beer, letting it warm my throat.

Montague clinks his glass against mine and sits down, smiling at me. I smile back.

"How are you?" he asks gently. My heart warms at the look in his eyes – he's truly concerned about me. My smile widens.

"I'm great now," I grin. His eyes crinkle as he laughs at the group huddled around the table, Bletchley yelling "Kill, Kill!" over and over again jumping between the two sides. I'm not sure who he's supporting. Neutral party.