𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐒 a draco malfoy fanfiction [𝟐] [✓]

xxiv

24

A V I S

( AH - viss )

" to conjure birds "

_______________

THE FINAL NIGHT of the school year was the day each common room held some sort of gathering, sometimes a party or sleepover in the common room.

Lyra was sprinting through the hallowed halls away from her uncle's classroom. After leaving her trunk with him, she set off at full sprint for the Astronomy tower.

Her hair billowed behind her in rushing waves of burnt orange bleeding into pumpkin. The cold wind whipped her face with each ascending step that echoed off the walls.

Draco was already lay peacefully on the balcony when Lyra arrived, rosy cheeked and winded. She sniffled quietly and slid down beside him, her hair falling from the platform and swaying mindlessly in the midnight breeze.

Draco took secretive glances at Lyra, his eyes drifted to her neck straightaway. Ever since fourth year, Lyra had only worn school shirts and high neck tops.

Her cardigan had slipped open, letting chills rise on her pale skin. Pearlescent, puckered scars were painted across her neck and chest, crossing over each other like pink streams.

Most of her sectumsempra scars disappear under the green velvet of her bralette — which was a Christmas present from Daphne. He smirked at the colour that contrast again her soft, pale skin.

"Eyes are up here, horny prat." Lyra sighed, chuckling.

"You've got a shit tone of scars, Fairfax." Draco blurted, rolling onto his side.

"Emotional or physical?" She muttered under her breath.

Draco raised his hand to her neck, tracing the soft, raised skin with his cold finger. His touch was feather light, making sure he didn't cause pain on the fading, hand shaped bruise that made his chest erupt in fury each time he saw it.

Lyra sighed heavily under his touch and trained her tearful eyes on his constellation. His hand moved up to the faint, white, crescent moon scars on her cheek. In the cold moonlight, even covered in varying scars, Lyra was angelic.

"What happens when summer comes?" Lyra whispered, lacing their hands together.

She felt him stiffen beside her, he lay back down in silence. Their faces were mere inches apart. Lyra swam in the cooling silver of his eyes, peering into his soul that was masked by thick eyelashes.

"Close your eyes." Lyra said quietly, she watched Draco face scrunch in confusion before his eyelids dropped hesitantly.

Lyra traced her fingertips across his pale complexion, flitting across his raised cheekbones that were dusted in a pink hue from the biting wind. Lyra rings pressed against his sharp chin when her thumb grazed Draco's plush lips.

In a split second, Draco's teeth clamped lightly on Lyra's thumb. His laugh echoed through the empty tower. "Prat." She mumbled.