𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapter 16

It took me five minutes to hug Luna and to chuckle when Harry stumbled and was forced to lean on Ginny, who wasn't quite as steady as she usually is. Two minutes to glare at Ron and bring Hermione back to her dormitory with Ginny. Another minute to care for Charles and carry him back to our dormitory, where he whispered some unclear things about quidditch and gave me a goodbye hug. 

Then, I finally allowed myself to breathe freely. 

It was nearly four in the morning, but the night's adrenaline still coursed through my veins. 

When the teachers had gone to bed, the alcohol had arrived. It would have been stupid to imagine that a bunch of teenagers who controlled magic, staying in a castle with so many passages it was nearly impossible to remember them all, wouldn't find a way to sneak alcohol to a ball. 

Two hours later, people were slightly wilder than they had been before midnight. An hour after that... well, I had rounded up the people I cared about the most and made sure they weren't going to either die or get lost trying to get to their room. 

I smiled, realizing that the entire night had made me feel alive. When I entered the common room, the crackling of the fire was a welcomed sound. I nearly walked straight to the stairs, but I stopped just in time to notice a shadow before the hearth. 

I lifted my dress and sat down on the couch beside Draco Malfoy, plucking a bottle of fire-whiskey from his hands. "I think you've had enough of that."

He didn't protest, staring blankly at the fire.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Nightmares," he answered.

"Alcohol will not help," I said.

"But they can numb your emotions."

"Only for them to come crashing back the next morning."

He did not answer. 

I sighed, reaching upwards to gently collect the clips decorating my hair and rubbed at my scalp, getting rid of the hairdo. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me with the exhaustion of a long day. 

I snuggled deeper into the couch, wrapping my arms around myself. I shivered, the lace sleeves not offering much protection against the coldness of the common room. Hogwarts was so much colder by night.

"You should go sleep," muttered Draco, barely glancing my way.

I shook my head. "No. I'm staying here with you."

"You're cold," he said.

"And stubborn," I replied.

"I noticed." The corner of his pale lips twitched. "There are blankets in the trunk beside you."

Sure enough, there was a large trunk full of fluffy green blankets embroidered with silver threads. I wrapped one around myself and threw another one on Draco's shoulders, who blinked, surprised, as if waking up from a dream.

"When did you learn how to fly?" I asked, kicking off my shoes.

His head snapped around, a dumbfounded look painted on his face. "What?"

"In first year, you already knew how to fly a broom," I state.

It took him longer than usual to regain his composure. The effects of alcohol no doubt.

"My father bought me a broom when I was young," he whispered, his voice shaking when saying the word father. "He told me that if I were to teach muggle-borns on the quidditch field a lesson, I had to stop being an embarrassment to our family and become a man. I loved flying. The only way I was allowed to fly was by acting the way my father wanted me to act." He laughed without humour. "Why am I telling you this?"

I knew why. 

Because for the first time, someone had refused to leave him alone and wasn't afraid of the consequences. Harry Potter could have been at my place and the words would have tumbled out of Draco's mouth anyways. But I couldn't say that, could I?

"I've always believed in magic," I admit slowly, weighing the consequences of my words. "My parents wanted to force me into a mold and shape me in the form of a perfect daughter. Sometimes, they stared at me with such disappointment, such worry, that I had to lock myself away. But I've always stayed true to myself."

"You're brave," he said, light playing in his silver hair.

I leaned forward, making sure I got his attention. "Waking up every morning to fight your demons, the very demons that have left you drained yesterday, I call that bravery."

"I don't feel like waking up sometimes," he whispered, not bothering to deny anything I had said.

My heart twisted in my chest. 

Curse it. 

I didn't like feeling others' pain. I understood him and...I wanted to help. I wanted him to heal. No one deserved this. 

We both stayed silent. I wasn't exactly sure what to say but I knew he didn't want pity. I didn't want to give him my pity. 

I stayed as he fell asleep on the couch, conflicted as to exactly why I was staying. Not because of Harry, I knew that much. I wasn't interested in whatever he was planning. 

I was curious of course, but I knew Draco wasn't a threat. He was lost and afraid. It was crazy how I could feel so much compassion for a jerk who bullied other students for five years. 

I sighed, observing his features and winced, realizing how creepy that sounded. His face was as pale as the first day of school. The tight lines that usually marked his forehead were erased, leaving his face with a peaceful expression. 

I looked away, feeling as if I was invading his privacy. I felt sad, drained, recognising some of the pain I had felt in my youth.

 I was tired. A numbing fog filled my brain, inviting me to fall into a dreamless slumber. 

I gladly obliged.