𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨

chapter sixteen

September 26th

He woke with an unusual sense of euphoria. Instead of the cold that usually frozen in his heart at dawn, there was warmth blanketed around his rib cage, holding him firmly in a soft hug.

It felt similar to waking up with arms around his chest in the morning.

Not only had he kissed her last night, but it was also Saturday, which meant he had hours on end to do whatever he wanted.

He put on a pair of black jeans and threw on a white t-shirt, heaving a soft flannel over his shoulders so the sudden biting cold of autumn couldn't chill his bones.

With the pair of creased and off white sneakers his Mother disdained him for wearing, he made his way down to the great hall for breakfast.

"How was your project, Draco?" Pansy smirked as he sat down at the slytherin table with intention, "Y'know, the one with gryffindor girl."

"Shut up," he mumbled, still half asleep, trying to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks.

It was late enough during breakfast time that they were the only slytherins left at the table, a few other students dotting the large hall's tables.

"Where's Theodore? Usually you two eat together," Draco muttered through a forkful of eggs, dabbling the side of his mouth with a napkin.

"Made up some excuse," she exclaimed with a shrug, long hair tied up in a loose bun, "I'm going to do the optimistic thing and assume Blaise and him are shopping me a birthday present."

"He's too much of a heartthrob not to be doing that," Draco scoffed, shaking his head with a laugh, "I'm sure he'll get you something... very you."

Pansy sat with her eyes squinted, hand pressed into her cheek as she slumped on the table, watching him.

"What are you looking for?" She asked peculiarly.

"What?" Draco answered, eyes returning to his half empty plate as he sipped from his glass of ice water.

"You've scanned the room three times."

Draco turned, looking around for a brief moment, "No, I haven't."

"That was four," she pointed at him with a long black painted fingernail.

"It's nothing," he stood from his seat, plate empty, "I have to go check something. I'll see you later, alright? Happy birthday, Pans."

Pansy nodded with a smile, waving him off as he returned to the corridors with his hands in his pockets, bathing in the morning sunlight that danced in beams across the stained glass windows.

The colors grew colder as he approached the dungeons, yellows tinting green, falling into blues and greys with every step down the spiral staircase. He reached his favorite step, stopping briefly to watch the surface of the lake lap calmly against the glass to the outside world, and then continued on into the darkness.

He stilled at Snape's old office like as he did always, not allowing himself to drown in the guilt his death had caused within his heart.

It was still too tender of a memory.

The common room smelt of day drinking and fresh parchment, the couches having been pushed to the sides of the room as a group of students sat in a circle playing cards.

He unlocked his dormitory with a silent incantation, and immediately crouched down to see if she was still, in fact, in bed.

He had been correct, as she was passed out between the covers, snoring quietly into her pillow. He didn't have to heart to wake her, so naturally he pulled out a canvas and his watercolors, and began painting.