the boy who had no choice [d.m]

𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

MCGONAGALL WOULD KILL HER.

It was the first coherent thought in Elara's head since Snape had told her about Draco's expulsion.

She had been trembling with rage the whole walk to the Transfiguration Professor's office and barely managed to contain herself.

Despite their extreme efforts to keep out of each other's lives, Draco and Elara seemed to be undeniably intertwined. It was driving her mad.

She burst through the door, the sentence already halfway past her lips. "Professor, you can't expel him."

She stopped short, her chest still heaving, taking in the sight of Draco standing in front of McGonagall, his hands in his pockets, his expression blank.

McGonagall, on the other hand, looked ready to hex him into oblivion, her sharp eyes deadly enough to make the most daring student wither.

Those eyes now turned to Elara and surprise flickered in them. "What is the meaning of this intrusion, Jacobs?"

Elara's cheeks flushed despite herself. McGonagall was one of her favourite professors and she hated to be berated by her. "Professor, he didn't do anything wrong -"

McGonagall stared at her and then at Draco. "How in Merlin are you connected to all this?"

Elara took another breath. "He - He didn't tell you because I told him not to -"

"Jacobs." Draco's voice was low. "Don't."

"Shut up, Draco," she hissed back, glaring at him. "I'm speaking to Professor McGonagall, not your sorry arse -"

"Language, Miss Jacobs!"

"Sorry, Professor," Elara said, breathlessly. She felt faintly like throwing up but she pushed on. "Draco didn't attack Fletcher unprovoked. He was saving me."

There. It was out. Now there was only -

"Saving you?" McGonagall demanded, incredulously. She pressed a bony hand over her heart, as if praying she wouldn't have a heart attack. "From what, Miss Jacobs?"

"From -" Her voice caught in her throat and she cleared it. "From -"

"Jacobs," Draco warned, his eyes fixed on her.

She shot him a furious look and forced herself to speak, ignoring the crack in her voice as she did. "Fletcher... Fletcher was going to -" Just say it, Elara.

No. She couldn't. Her chest constricted at the thought and she desperately hoped she wouldn't have a panic attack.

She had to leave. She couldn't do this.

It was too soon. She hadn't even been able to come to terms with it herself yet. How was she supposed to tell anybody else?

The tightness in her chest grew and she gasped for breath.