Of Doves and Dragons

Chapter Fourteen: The First Daffodils of Spring

"I found peace in your violence. Can't tell me there's no use in trying. I'm at one, and I've been quiet too long."

-Marshmello ft. Khalid, Silence

When Draco woke in the morning he was pleasantly surprised to find her still tucked into his side. Her fingers were slowly clenching and unclenching his shirt; balling her hand into a fist before flattening her palm against his torso. He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek and went to wrap his arm around her a little tighter but winced as the feeling started to come back to the numb limb. She had slept with her head and neck cocooned in the place where his shoulder met his chest. Trying to regain feeling, he wiggled his fingers content enough to deal with this slight aggravation for the rest of his life if she would allow it. This was the most intimacy he had ever known and it wasn't until now that he knew he had been craving it all along.

"How are you feeling?" He whispered into her hair. His newly restored arm finally able to cradle her closer to his body. Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair until all the tangles were gone.

She shrugged her shoulder and sighed softly. The arm on his torso slowly retracted back to her chest like she was curling back into her shell.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He tried to keep his tone soothing when everything shouted inside of him, demanding information. He never wanted to see her in such a state again.

He felt her face scrunch up against his shirt. He didn't have to see it to know that it was adorable. A tiny whine escaped from the back of her throat before she slowly detangled their limbs and sat up. He tried not to focus on suddenly feeling incomplete as every place her body touched his went cold.

Her long fingers reached for her head and rubbed against her temples before she turned to face him.

After weeks of not truly seeing her face, he cherished the moment. Her face was pale with small smudges of dirt brushed over her cheeks with tear stained lines running through them. Her eyes were tired and puffy around the edges but never had the vibrant green looked more beautiful. Even in this exhausted state, he could effortlessly admire her divine features.

"Don't you have lessons?" Her voice came out as a hoarse croak and she winced.

He continued to gaze at her lazily from the comfort of the feathered pillows and shook his head. "I'm ditching. We should talk about things."

Her eyes left his and settled on the hand he laid across his stomach. Hesitantly she nodded her head, "Can I take a bath first?"

He gave her a soft smile and gradually stood up from the bed. "Sure, I'll go grab some food."

Once the water in her bath had turned cold, Ember put on her comfiest cotton dress and brushed her teeth, purposefully ignoring her reflection from the mirror. She was drying her hair with a towel when she returned to the main room.

Draco was sitting in one of the arm chair with a glass of pumpkin juice. She sat herself in the other chair and tucked her legs underneath her; draping her dress over her knees modestly. She still scrunched her hair with her towel as she stared into the fire place, oddly wondering if the magic fire ever truly died.

"Snape and I haven't made any progress," She whispered into the silence, feeling his stare yet unable to meet his eyes.

A weight, one that he didn't even know he had, lifted from Draco's shoulders. It was comforting to know that he hadn't been the only one to be this far into the school year and have nothing to show for it.