𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 - 𝐝.𝐦.

𝟏𝟎𝟖 - 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

—

i'm bored drop a song and i'll give u a prompt for a novel

i've also given up on the pretty headers

—

I never thought I would dread the Hogwarts Express ride home.

But here I am, in our compartment, wishing the seconds wouldn't pass by so quickly. It's not really the ride home I'm dreading so much as when the train finally slows to a stop. It moves at its rapid speed, shaking the compartment a little and me with it. The water in the glass sitting on the tray table ripples, threatening to spill over the rim.

Draco shifts a little next to me. I lift my head off of his shoulder, thinking maybe it's begun to fall asleep, but he lifts a hand and gently pushes my head back on him. I gladly let him. The window in our compartment has a little crack that even magic can't fix, and it's leaking cold air into the space. Even through his sweater and cloak, I can feel the warmth of his skin.

I close my eyes. I can hear footsteps outside of our compartment. The train is emptier than usual, because Hogwarts is emptier than usual. Most students weren't allowed to go back for break, but the Slytherins were the exception.

I hear the turn of a page. Blaise is reading from a textbook. I'm not sure why, considering we haven't actually been tested on anything since the start of term. I wonder what is waiting for me at home — if it'll be like the Christmases from all the years before. I know it won't be, but I find myself thinking about my thirteenth Christmas. The entire extended family had been there, though I hardly remember what that was like. I recall waking up hours before everyone else, and when I came downstairs, my father was sitting in the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate. It was as if he just knew I would be awake.

I feel something on my hand. When I open my eyes, I see Draco's long fingers tracing shapes on the back of my palm. He then slowly slides them over mine until his hand is encompassing mine entirely.

Pansy hums under her breath an off-tune version of Silent Night, her voice disappearing entirely on some of the lower notes. I feel Draco's index finger tapping on me to the beat, a gentle touch I hardly feel. The train keeps running, a comforting, steady thrum that makes us shake a little where we sit.

We haven't told her or Blaise yet. We probably should, but I wonder if it matters whether we do or not. In times such as these, something like a relationship almost feels too trivial — too silly to bring up as though it holds any importance compared to everything else in our lives.

Except it does, doesn't it? It feels important. To me at least. But it also feels like a distraction.

Maybe it's better if we don't tell them. We won't last very long anyway. I won't last very long, at least. I wonder how long we would last, though, if I wasn't currently at the neck of the hourglass.

This is where we first met — no, the second time we met. The first was in Knockturn Alley. We shared an unmemorable conversation, though now I wish I could remember what we spoke about. It was most likely small talk — yes, and I remember shaking his hand. So then that was the first time we ever touched each other, that I ever felt his skin.

And the second time we met was on this train, soon after the first. I had the unlucky fate of running into the cockiest, tallest, most arrogant blond bastard I have ever met to this day. I can't help but crack a small smile at the thought, my eyes fluttering shut as I recall the memory.