Salazar's Angel

XIII

Dahlia does not see Draco the next day, or the day after that. Soon it is Friday and he hasn't been in any of the classes they share nor has she bumped into him in the common room or the great hall all week. This gives her a bad feeling in her stomach, though she can't quite place why...

She eats dinner with her roommates Friday evening, but declines their offer to sneak off to spend the night in some distant corner of the school and drink something called fire whiskey with Nott, Zabini, and Miles. Her arm has been burning more than usual lately, and she hopes without them in her room she will have the opportunity to finally cool off. She practically runs back from dinner at the thought.

After locking, and then double and triple checking that she locked, the bedroom door she quickly strips off her long sleeve black shirt leaving her in only a black bralette. She peels off her leggings too, and pulls on a pair of her green pajama shorts, then ties her hair in a knot on top of her head and flops back onto her bed.

The burning in her arm has been steadily increasing towards unbearable over the course of the week, causing her whole body to feel like she is standing in front of a roaring fire in the middle of the desert. Briefly, she contemplates going to get some ice or taking a cold shower but then squashes the idea when she realizes she would have to put on some clothes to do so.

As Dahlia is so deeply entrenched in her own thoughts, she doesn't register the first three or four crashes coming from somewhere outside of her bedroom. However, the fourth one that is accompanied by a tearing yell does rouse her from her own head. She sits bolt upright, ears straining. There are more crashes, so Dahlia grabs her wand off the night stand. There is another ferocious yell and without thinking Dahlia bolts from her room and bursts into the common room.

It is empty, thankfully, and Dahlia remembers that when she came back earlier she had seen no one else. Holding her wand out in front of her, she creeps in the direction of the sound. The next crash leads her up the stairs towards one of the boys rooms, and she stops outside of a closed door. Another yell sounds from inside and, fearing the worst, Dahlia kicks open the door and jumps into the room.

"What the-" She says on reflex at the scene in front of her. She had feared that someone was being injured, or even killed, but yet the only person is front of her is Malfoy. The room is destroyed, and he looks like he's been attacked. 

His chest heaves as he stares at her, his black button down shirt ripped open. For a moment, they just look at each other. 

"You can drop your useless wand," Draco says, not breaking eye contact. His eyes are rimmed in dark circles like he hasn't slept in a week.

Dahlia realizes she is still in some form of a fighting stance, so she drops her hand to her side and straightens up. She tears her eyes away from his and looks around the room. His trunk is smashed to bits, his bedsheets ripped apart, and feathers from the pillows are floating all around the room.

"Did someone attack you?" She asks, eyes sweeping over the room.

Draco scoffs, still working on catching his breath. "I wish."

"Then what happened?" Dahlia asks, crossing her arms and staring at him.

He looks her over from her toes to her head and back down again. "Where are your clothes? Are you insane?" He slips his button down the rest of the way off, wads it up into a ball, and chucks it at her from where he still stands on the other side of the room. "Put this on before someone sees your arm you careless imbecile."

She catches the shirt and tears her eyes away from his bare torso to put it on. His hair may not be red but he is as pale as she is, if not more so. "There's no one else here. It's Friday night. And stop trying to change the subject, what in the fresh hell happened in here?"