𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapter 33

Sitting on the couch nearest the fire in the common room, I forced myself to stay awake, even if my eyelids were begging to close themselves. 

I waited, silently reviewing my Ancient Runes textbook and getting distracted by the giant squid swimming past the large windows of the Slytherin common room, to the great joy of a few first years. 

My head snapped up for the thousandth time as someone descended the staircase that connected the boys' dorms to the common room, my heart skipping a beat when Draco finally emerged from the shadows and made his way towards me. 

His silver hair was still damp, sticking to his forehead and I couldn't help but notice that he was dressed much more casually than usual. His face was as pale as it had been at the beginning of the year, looking drawn and tired. 

I stiffened in surprise as he laid down on the couch, resting his head on my lap and forced myself to relax, instead gently playing with his hair. 

It wasn't fair that it was as soft as I had imagined it to be.

"My tattoo is killing me," he whispered, his voice strained.

I frowned. "Not literally, I hope."

He smiled wryly. "If pain could kill."

I hit his shoulder more gently than I usually would. "Stop scaring me, you dolt."

"It makes me happy to see you care about my life."

My eyes softened. I had the sudden envy to kiss him. 

I gently lifted his arm, bringing it to my eye level and pushed down his sleeve after making sure we were alone. The dark mark seemed more visible than it usually was, the black ink rising angrily on his pale skin. It swirled and moved, as if the snake was truly alive, biting it's fangs into Draco's skin as a painful reminder of where his loyalty should belong. 

But if his tattoo was burning, it meant that Voldemort was calling his followers. That couldn't be a good thing. 

The boy had closed his eyes, silver wisps of his hair teasing his eyelids. Tracing his tattoo with the tip of my finger, I lost myself in my thoughts. Draco sucked in a sharp breath, causing me to freeze.

"Did I hurt you?"

He partially opened one of his eyes, just enough for me to glimpse a flash of gray. "No. It felt good."

Every one of my movements after that was made with some sort of caution, as if he could break under my touch.

"We could probably modify that tattoo," I said, trying to distract both of us.

"Hmm?" he answered, keeping his eyes closed.

"Have something cover it partially and diminish the burn."

"Flowers," he said. "The Dark Lord hates them."

I smiled slightly. "Luna can draw very well, I'm sure she can come up with a design."

"A rose bush," he continued, as if liking the idea. "It would be fitting."

"How so?"

He smiled peacefully. "In honor of the girl who taught me to fight."

This time, I blushed, I am certain of it. 

Draco took no notice of it, falling asleep with his head on my lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt right. And I didn't know whether to enjoy it or to be scared of the effect he had on me. 

I gently slipped away from him, trying to clear my mind. I picked up a pillow, softly placing it under his head before tucking a blanket around him. He barely grunted, sleeping soundly.