Chapter 11

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I spent most of Saturday in bed filled with remorse, recovering from the most brutal hangover. Although my head was still muddled from the events of last night, I knew one thing was for sure: firewhisky meant bad decisions, but it sure made for one hell of a night.

Just like the majority of the fifth- and sixth-years, I'd missed breakfast, but managed to muster up enough strength to leave the comfort of my bed just in time for lunch. In an attempt to appear somewhat presentable, I pulled on a jumper and some trousers, though I probably still looked as dreadful as I'd felt. My head was pounding as I ran a comb through my hair. I'd never felt as lethargic as I did today.

I'd never felt as guilt-ridden as I did today.

If I didn't leave my room at this very moment, there was a high chance I'd find myself back under the covers, contemplating the tempting possibility of becoming a recluse for the rest of the year. However, in the best interests of my sanity, I shuffled down the stairs before I could carry out this plan. With a swift scan of the common room, I saw a couple of students lounging about. Fortunately, Draco was nowhere to be seen, but he was probably already in the Great Hall with the rest of the crew. I felt slightly nauseous thinking of him, and of whether or not someone had informed Blaise about what had happened. The only ones who had bore witness to my escapades were Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, and it was more than likely that if anyone had tattled, it would've been the latter.

~

Despite lunch being halfway over, the Great Hall was still quite crowded. Though I was secretly hoping that I could sit with Luna just for today, she was nowhere to be found. I spotted Blaise sitting with the usual group of Slytherins and headed over rather reluctantly because, as I'd predicted, Draco was seated there as well. I'd been ruminating over our time together all morning, and the sight of him only made my stomach turn. Or was it butterflies?

Blaise was hunched over the table, quietly sipping on a cup of tea, while Flint had head his down beside him. Quite frankly, there was no other way to put it except that they both looked like death.

"Blimey," I chuckled, settling down beside Blaise. "I reckon you're pretty proud of yourself, aren't you, Zabini? Heard you finished quite a few bottles of firewhisky last night. That was the plan after all, wasn't it?"

His eyes were still a bit bloodshot when he peered over at me. He shook his head and looked back down, "I'm lucky they canceled practice this morning. Otherwise I would've probably thrown up all over the field."

"Well, you said you wanted to get plastered and you did. Proud of you, Zabini," I laughed, reaching for a piece of toast. Blaise hadn't mentioned anything about Draco, and I took that as a good sign. Mindlessly, I glanced over at Draco and our eyes locked, though neither of us uttered a word to each other.

~

When everyone seemed to be about finished with lunch, we all walked back to the common room together. Blaise leaned on me for support with one arm slung around my shoulders. His other hand shielded his face from the sunlight shining through the corridors. With squinted eyes, he swore to never drink again, which led to a series of scoffs and laughs from the rest of us — we all knew that was a load of bollocks.

The weather wasn't terribly gloomy today, but it wasn't as warm I'd liked it to be. Had the skies been blue — and had I not been recovering from this awful hangover — I would've enjoyed taking a stroll down to the Great Lake to clear my mind. This was something that'd snuck its way into my routine on warmer days at Hogwarts, something that granted me the pleasure of being alone with my thoughts.

The walk back to the common room was filled with laughter. It was moments like these that made me feel as if the Slytherin crew I found myself with wasn't so bad after all. These moments didn't happen often, but when they did, I was always reminded of how at home I felt here at Hogwarts.

Once we arrived to the common room, Blaise still wasn't feeling well so he headed straight up to the boys' dormitories. I bid my goodbyes to him before grabbing my books from my room returning back downstairs with the intention of studying for the rest of the afternoon. On top of the assignments that'd already been allotted upon our first week back, the OWLs were coming up at the end of the year. Instead actually teaching us magic, Umbridge made sure to emphasize the importance of studying for these exams.

Speaking of Umbridge, things at Hogwarts had started to feel unsettling. There'd been talk about Dumbledore stepping down as Headmaster, and some of the Slytherins had even hoped for it, but I secretly hoped he didn't. Contrary to those in my house, I actually liked Dumbledore, even if he seemed to favor the Gryffindor house above all others. But my sentiments weren't shared with the rest of the Slytherin crew, especially not with Draco.

It wasn't a secret that Malfoy Manor had recently become headquarters to the devoted disciples of You-Know-Who, but Draco seldom spoke of his time at home. Although he often boasted about his father's power and connection to You-Know-Who, I had a feeling he didn't enjoy it quite as much as he wanted others to think he did, and a part of me sympathized with him.

Off to the side near the fireplace, there were two black high-back armchairs facing each other with a small rectangular table between them. Each chair held a large quilted green pillow for extra comfort. I'd grown rather accustomed to this part of the room because it was close enough to feel the warmth of the fire, but far enough from the rest of the seats to feel a sense of seclusion. I'd also learned that this was the best place to sit and people-watch inbetween my studies.

As the rest of the group trickled off into their respective rooms, I settled down into my favorite spot, flipped open to the first page of my Potions book, and began reading.

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