Untitled Part 1

51

Third Person POV:

"Just so you know, Malfoy," Came the warning voice of Hermione as she stumbled towards the portrait. "do not expect for him to be thrilled when he sees you, and if you once again dare to do something like that or hurt Harry in any way, the consequences won't be pretty." She shot him a disappointed glare before mumbling the password underneath her breath. Draco stood there as the door opened, ignoring what Granger had said because there was only one thing on his mind—and that was to fix things before it's too late.

"Good luck," Spoke the Gryffindoor girl as she spun on her heels. "you'll need it."

***

As soon as Draco stepped foot in, there was when the hesitation began to pile up.

What the hell am I even going to say?

This really is not my thing.

He scratched his head before wondering his gaze upon the Common Room. There were barely any students fortunately—although he could quite see Seamus or Dean by the fireplace. They did not tear their eyes away from the homework in between their hands, perhaps not even aware of the Slytherin's presence, and Draco was ashamed to say that he was pretty thankful for that—he just wants to do what he came here to do and get this over with.

Draco's POV:

Granger told me he'll be in his dorm, so with that being said, I made my way up there.

Knock... knock... and knock...

My knuckles collided one last time with the wooden door, however the echo remained hanging in the air, leaving me with no response whatsoever. Therefore, I decided to take matters into my own hand and simply go inside.

With a twist in the door nob and a slight push, my gaze landed on a fully red and orange dormitory first, and then, my eyes began rummaging for a certain somebody but unfortunately, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Or so I thought...

"Leave."

It was an unexpected appearance to be honest—my eyes were about to widen at the sudden, familiar tone.

I spun around slowly, hands in my pocket, so that my sight met with whom I came here to see.

Not responding, I permitted myself to observe his not-so-well state that formed a pit in my lower stomach.
Harry was a complete mess.
He was wearing his normal uniform, however, it looked like he had slept in it for a whole week. Most of the upper buttons were undone, meanwhile his sleeve was halfway rolled up—not in a tidy way.

I didn't get the chance to look further since my gaze traced its way up to his worn out face.
Although his hair was always messed up, at that moment it was twice more. Dark circles underneath his tired green eyes were pretty visible to me—let alone they still would be to a person standing ten feet away. While that bright olive skin of his that used to shine regardless any aura, has now turned as pale as snow...

and his smile that used to light up an entire hall, has now faded into an emotionless expression along with his face.

"Listen, Potter," I began, watching him stand beside the doorway of the washroom. "I came here to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." He muttered, acting completely oblivious. "Now leave."

I sensed my anger piling up by the second. Inching a bit closer, I opened my mouth to protest. "There obviously is a lot to talk about and you know it."