The Green Trio

September 1st 1994... Again

—

September 1st 1994... Again

As she waited outside the hospital wing, she'd considered the irony of it. Not a year later she was once again visiting Draco because his own foolishness had gotten him into trouble—except this time she had no ulterior motive to justify what she was doing. She wasn't sneaking her way to him in some deluded effort to help Hagrid; this time she was genuinely concerned for his wellbeing, remembering the frantic slip of her words to Luka before as they stood at the back of a crowd while Draco was tossed around in the form of ferret.

He better turn him back.

She hadn't meant to say it out loud and was thankful her friend had just taken it as a surface level admiration of Draco's unfortunate good looks. For the meantime, that was all she wanted anyone to think it was and it was best no one knew she had formed a soft spot for Draco Malfoy of all people.

Diana waited, watching the doors leading into the hospital wing and hoping his friends would leave soon. Not a minute later did the loud creak of wood grant her the window she needed. As Crabbe and Goyle sauntered off, Diana seized her opportunity.

She slipped inside quietly, moving passed the rows of beds until she found Draco sitting up on one, his feet dangling off the side, with an annoyed look on his face. When he spotted her standing there, he glared, and she knew exactly what would come out his mouth.

"Come to laugh at me, have you?"

Draco had always been predictable. Even as children, Diana could accurately guess his moves like he was a simple pawn on a chessboard—and it wasn't even because they were particularly close back then at all; they weren't.

Their relationship as children never extended passed the occasional dinner between rich pureblood families who also happened to be Deatheaters. Those dinners back then had read like coworkers at the annual office party and young Diana had always been made to play with the other kids while the adults discussed adult things. She hadn't known then what that entailed, but now she understood they probably needed to keep their stories straight if the Ministry ever came knocking for one of them.

None of it mattered anymore, did it?

Diana furrowed her brow, staring at him in disbelief at his suggestion. "No. I wanted to see if you were alright."

It might've been the way the moonlight rested against his features, but she swore his face softened before he forced it back into its standard pretension.

"I'm fine." He spat, though his anger wasn't directed at her. It was always so directionless, his anger. As if it was the only emotion he ever allowed himself to completely feel and so if he was mad at one thing, he was mad at everything.

"No, you're not," she mused, moving closer. "Moody shouldn't have done that."

"No, he shouldn't have, but no matter. My father will be—"

"Hearing about this." She finished with a small laugh.

And this time she knew it wasn't the light. He watched her so intently, his expression unreadable, and she stared back, almost like a challenge. Daring him to speak whatever was running through that odd little head of his.

"Meet me later." He said finally. Quietly. "At the Astronomy Tower."

—

September 16th, 1994... Again

She couldn't pinpoint when or what had kickstarted her attraction to Draco Malfoy. He was a sodding tool; she knew that well enough. His outdated views on Muggleborns and Muggles in general directly contradicted her own, sparking heated debate after heated debate, and still she found herself dragging her feet towards the Astronomy Tower for the last two weeks every time he asked. Whether by note or a purposeful tilt of the head, she listened, she understood, she followed suit.