𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapter 22

I took a moment to admire my surroundings. 

The room was huge. As in, I couldn't see the ceilings or the walls, who were filled with shelves and piles of random objects. 

I silently made my way further into the room, trying to identify exactly what attracted Malfoy to this particular place. I twirled on myself, looking upwards in fascination. 

How many ancient objects were hidden here? 

Trusting my instincts, I navigated through the labyrinth until I noticed a silver haired boy who was modifying a black closet with careful movements. Either he could hear sounds that didn't exist or he had the splendid capacity of feeling when I was around. 

He covered the closet with a large blanket and leaned back against a table in one quick, but incredibly smooth movement. Knowing it was of no use to hide, I stepped into view.

"Stalking me, Collins?" he smirked, nonchalantly crossing his arms over his chest.

"Someone has to make sure you don't get in too much trouble," I replied, trying to determine what emotion was shining inside his eyes.

"Please," he said, pushing himself away from the table. "Trouble is my middle name."

I didn't back away as he came closer, even when I had to look up to meet his eyes.

"What kind of trouble did you put yourself in, Draco?"

The smirk didn't leave his lips as he trailed a finger along my jaw, tilting up my chin. I resisted the urge to pull away. His skin was cold, leaving a strange feeling when it came in contact with mine.

"Something much too dangerous for someone like you," he whispered.

"Tell me," I challenged him.

"I can't."

His finger left my chin, but he didn't move back.

"Then show me." 

My hand gently grabbed his wrist, lifting his forearm and sinking my stare deep into his steely eyes.

"Show you what, Collins? How much of a monster I am?"

He didn't flinch, he did not back down. Why? I had no idea.

"Show me you want to fight," I whispered.

I pushed back his sleeve, displaying a dark tattoo printed into his skin and sighed, looking up.  "It's true, isn't it?"

"Why aren't you running away?" he growled. "I'm a danger for you!"

I shook my head, gently tracing the dark mark with the tip of my finger. "What happened?"

The boy dropped down to his knees, as if all strength had left him, pulling me down with him. He grasped both of my hands, as if they were the only thing keeping him together.

"My father is weak," he snarled. I could feel the hatred burning in his eyes. "He displeased the Dark Lord by failing him and now, Voldemort is taking it out on my family. On me." His voice cracked. "I have to find a way to kill Dumbledore, but I couldn't do it. Instead," he looked down and I squeezed his hands. "I have to bring the death eaters to Hogwarts."

"Draco, look at me. You are not your father. You are not weak. You are a fighter, I see it in you."

His laughter was emotionless. "What can I do? The Dark Lord will kill my mother."

"Not if we protect her," I insist. "Speak to Dumbledore."

"No," he said sharply.

"Pride is a dangerous thing."

"Not yet," he modified his answer, giving me hope.

"Think of all the damage they would do to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is our home."

"I know!" He tried to take back his hands, but I held them firmly.

"Draco, you have to choose. Don't make the same mistake your father did."

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "The others have been putting pressure on me," he whispered. "They've noticed how I... how I don't hate you."

"Fight. Don't fight for anyone else. Fight for you."

"Be selfish?" He opened his eyes. "And put you in danger? Put my mother in danger?"

"I put myself in danger." I could take credit for that, thank you very much. "And your mother is safe for now. She'll be safer when you speak to Dumbledore."

He watched our hands, as if in a matter of seconds, I could disintegrate into nothing.

"I'll destroy the cabinet," he finally said. "Please, give me some time before I can completely change sides."

I smiled. "I know I'm asking for a lot."

The silver haired boy shook his head. "No, you're asking for what is necessary."

We both got up and after a moment of hesitation, he let go of my hands.

"Incendio," he muttered under his breath, pointing his wand to the closet behind him.

The closet burst in flames, turning to dust in a matter of minutes. We silently watched until nothing was left of it before leaving and returning to the hallways. 

Draco walked slowly and I matched his steps, the sound of our shoes echoing through the silent castle. The students were all in the great hall for the evening meal.

"Did you know that at first, I wanted to be friends with Potter?" he said, out of the silence.

I shook my head.

"When he turned me down to go with Weasley, it stung a bit. I started attacking them for apparently no reason. But I know why; I wanted to feel superior. I wanted to feel like I actually belonged somewhere, like I existed." His laughter sounded hollow. "I realize how stupid it was."

His eyes were gray like the sky on rainy days. The kind of gray that made you sad, that made you feel empty and worthless. 

I reached up and touched his shoulder, gently making him stop. Then, I did something that surprised the both of us. 

I hugged him. 

He stiffened under my touch before leaning in and resting his chin on top of my head. He wrapped his arms around me and relaxed, melting into the hug. 

I wanted to protect him and strangely, I felt like he wanted to protect me. We were shielding each other from the outside, as if nothing really mattered. 

He sighed. "I swear, I'm going to make things right."

"I believe you," I whispered. Because I actually did.