The Malfoy Project

𝟏𝟎𝟐 - 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

༻⚜️༺

The dawn broke warm and humid, blanketing the moors with its blank, hollow light. Ainsley and I were sitting at the bank of the Black Lake, her legs stretched out in front of her, mine folded up and tucked tight under my chin.

Our secret rendezvous had ended a little less than an hour ago. We danced and ate and drank, before concluding the night with the burning of Ainsley's white dress. She had refused to wear Monty's black dress again, so I had given her my jacket. The four of us then came down to the Lake, found a small, barren patch of land. We laid the dress on the ground, pointed our wands at it, and set it ablaze. The atmosphere was solemn as we watched the white fabric curl and scorch. Once it had been reduced to a pile of ashes, Hannah and Ernie stumbled back to the dorms to get some sleep before Ainsley's departure.

Now, Ainsley and I watched the sun singe the sky, its thick bands of brilliant orange piercing the darkness and twinkling off the undulating expanse of water. There was a reverential quality about the phenomenon that demanded silence, not that either of us had anything to say. We had long run out of words, speaking only in memories, in secret moments and clandestine touches past that only both our hearts will be privy to. So, when Ainsley lifted her head and spoke, the sound was startlingly loud:—

"Draco, can I tell you something?"

Her nose was red, though I couldn't tell if it was just the sunrise. "I'm really glad you didn't pitch yourself off the Astronomy Tower that night," she said.

She was looking at me with those large inkwell eyes, and there was something so achingly surreal about a dream coming to life that for one terrifying moment, I thought I would be jolted awake in the darkness of the Slytherin dormitory, sick, alone, and half-mad with the ail of a pining heart.

"So am I," I replied when I found my voice, which earned the faintest twitch of a smile.

We lapsed into silence once more. My cheeks were already beginning to warm under the brightening glare of daylight. I squinted at the distance between the brilliant star and the top of the sky. How many eternities would fit in there? A million, or just one? I tried to imagine it: countless little time orbs, like bath bubbles, coalescing into one giant glittering sphere. Me and Ainsley in this sphere, her hands clasped in mine between us. It would be quiet, except that this silence would be one I wasn't afraid of.

"Ainsley," I said, quietly and without taking my eyes off the sky. "Are you afraid?"

She replied, two heartbeats later: "No."

I was thankful for her lie, for I wouldn't know what I would have said otherwise.

We sat as the castle came alive with sounds and smells: baking pastries, the loud schools-out chatter of students, luggage wheels rolling on stone, doors and windows being shut, where they will be opened by new sets of hands two months later.

We listened to the commotion as our schoolmates paraded down to Hogsmeade, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting to take them back to King's Cross. It would then be replaced by other locomotives passing through the village, one of which was the train for Switzerland, due to arrive at midday — a grace from the gods for which my heart bore no gratitude.

"Won't he be will be wondering where you are?" I had voiced out to Ainsley at some point.

"Let him wonder," was her response, which should have boosted my ego, but all I could think about was how this stubborn bravery would get her killed before we could be reunited.

Sometimes it felt like she was already dead.

༻❁༺

Monty must not see that I am trembling.