A Harry Potter Fanfic

Chapter 24

---------- Chapter 24 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               “Earth to De!” Hermione sighs in frustration for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

               “Oh. Sorry, Hermione...I’m just distracted,” I murmur back, my eyes still a little glazed.

               “Yes, yes, you find it absolutely redundant having to study even though your OWLs are over. I know,” Hermione carries on, her face scrunched up in frustration.

For the past two weeks, ever since my OWLs ended, Hermione’s been bugging me about studying my sixth year subjects. In all honesty, I think she just wants to keep me occupied. I tend to...freak out a little every time I think about the future.

Okay well, not really my future. I mean, in a couple of weeks, Draco is going to be done with his NEWTs. Then what?

               “De...you need to take your mind off him,” Hermione whispers gently, sliding into the seat next to me.

               “How?” I sigh, pursing my lips in defeat.

               “De, you must have known something would change. I mean Draco is three years older than you,” she reasons calmly.

To be honest though, I hadn’t thought about it. I always assumed Draco and I would find a way to make it work. But now...I’m not so sure. I mean, sure we can spend the term break together, but what happens after? I’ll have to comeback to do my sixth year...

               “Maybe...if I just talk to him-” I begin timidly, already knowing Hermione would cut me off.

               “Absolutely not! You’ll just distract him from his exams, De! And you don’t want that, do you?!” she admonished severely.

               “You don’t get it, Hermione! You get to spend time with Ron everyday! The last time I got to really spend time with Draco was when we were all in Diagon Alley!” I whine.

Just as I get my best pout on, the door to the classroom Hermione and I are in creeks open. Naturally, Draco stands at the door, his handsome face troubled.

               “Hey Draco,” Hermione greets, gathering up her things and leaving the two of us together.

Draco and I asses each other without exchanging a word. His eyes are bloodshot and dark; he must really be studying all out.

               “Hi,” he whispers after a long, awkward silence.

               “Hey,” I whisper back, smiling slightly.

               “How’d the OWLs go?” he asks, hopping onto one of the desks.

               “Dreadfully...how about your preparation for the NEWTS” I ask quietly.

               “Stressful. Anyway, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. I missed you,” he admits sheepishly.

               “I missed you too,” I whisper, staring up at his grey eyes.

He cups my chin and gently guides my lips towards his. Again the kiss feels wrong...like a goodbye.

               “Draco, why do you keep saying goodbye?!” I suddenly blurt out against his lips.

               “Saying goodbye? I haven’t-” he begins, looking perplexed.

               “Not in words...but it seems like you are,” I clarify, scrutinising his reaction.

               “I guess...because it’s a very big possibility, it’s a probability, Deid! I mean...what else can I do? I can’t expect you to wait until you’ve finished school for us to continue this. It won’t work and we’ll both be miserable,” he reasons, still cupping my jaw.

               “No! We’ll make it work!” I plead, beginning to feel the threat of tears.

               “Don’t cry Deid....” he whispers as he pulls me into his warm embrace. “If we really are meant to be, we will be,” he continues.

               “So what? We carry on like this? Stay madly in love and just call it quits at the end of the term?” I mutter angrily against his robes.

               “Or we do everything right. No regrets,” he suggests.

               “Everything?” I ask quietly, pushing away from his chest so I could take in his expression.

               “Yes. Everything,” he whispers, a mischievous smile on his face.

               “When?” I manage to blurt out in my feverish state.

               “Sunday night,” he murmurs, his eyes unfathomable. “Come to my room after all your housemates have gone to bed. I’ll wait for you,” he promises, smiling my favourite heart-wrenching smile.

               “No regrets,” I repeat quietly.

               “None at all,” he finishes, kissing the tip of my nose before sweeping out of the room majestically.