Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Griffin}
SLEEP'S WORST enemy is overthinking. Because wherever overthinking goes, a restless slumber tends to follow. That's the thing about enemies, sometimes they don't know when to stay away from each other.
What am I going to do?
Back in my dormitory, it was clear even a wink of sleep would be unattainable; my brain refused to turn off and my stomach refused to stop somersaulting. All I could do was ruminate over the night's events and wonder if I regretted it.
Merlin knows I should have.
I deliberated on whether my past self would have made other choices had she known this is the predicament she would be trapped in -unnerved and unable to think straight thanks to the replaying images of his bruised lips, dark eyes, and eager hands.
Well, the answer should have been easy. It should have been yes.
Because I was still Griffin Blakes, and he was as good as my enemy. My friends' enemy. Really, what was I thinking? Developing feelings for Draco Malfoy was a fucking disaster waiting to happen.
Unfortunately, there were already enough disasters approaching Hogwarts. It started the next morning when news broke out that a number of Death Eaters had escaped Azkaban. Harry, in particular, began acting more reserved than usual and we figured it was due to the Ministry blaming Sirius, his innocent godfather, for the jailbreak.
Draco had sent me two letters since then. They were brief and straight to the point -one asked how I was and then when I was available. Too conflicted to come up with a sensible response, I never owled back. Was that shitty? Possibly. Was it necessary? Most definitely.
After that night, I made a point to keep my distance away from Malfoy. This included the avoidance of looking in his direction, even when I sensed his burning gaze on me. It happened periodically throughout the course of our shared lessons or across the Great Hall during meals. And it felt like he was trying to figure out what made me tick, which was positively infuriating.
It was a lose-lose situation. Either I continue ignoring Malfoy and pretend nothing happened between us, or I confide in my friends and hope they don't hate me. The latter was definitely more promising, but whenever I tried to bring the topic up in discussion, my courage seemed to vanish.
This reminded me of first year, when I was awfully shy and always uncertain of myself. Too scared of failure. Too scared of being a disappointment.
Well, neither choice was a good option; I would be letting down at least one person in both. Draco, for avoiding him, or my best friends for... obvious reasons.
"Griffin, could we have a word?" Hermione asked gently, pulling me aside while the remainder of Gryffindors exited the common room for breakfast. "Alright," I nodded, following her to Harry and Ron, who were engaged in a hushed conversation.
