when they became villains [draco malfoy] {book 2}

Year 6 - 151

If exhausted was a person, Draco was sure Ninomae would be it. 

If disappointment was one, Draco knew he would be it. The boy kept on letting everyone around him down and he hated himself for it. He couldn't do a single thing right. Even when he tried, like with the Christmas gift, something went wrong and he ended up screwing it all up.

Exhaustion and constant letdown had never mixed well. Especially when everything had gone skew already. One was too tired to fix it. The other was too scared to make it even worse.

It was dark in the room. Night had settled over the castle and nothing but a single candle on the chest of drawers by her bedside illuminated the dorm. Fearing it might wake her up, Draco hadn't dared make the lightning any brighter. He knew he didn't sleep well, and he supposed she didn't too, therefore after the girl had blacked out in his arms right there in the corridor, Draco had done his best to ensure she'd get as long of a rest as she possibly could. He had carried her all the way back to the room and there was even a Slytherin whose mouth he had sealed shut with a spell, finding the lad to be entirely too loud for anyone's good.

Draco had sat with Ninomae throughout the day. Two cups of tea stood on the chest of drawers at all times. One was for him, that he constantly kept refilling - fruit tea because suddenly he had craved it. The other was for her - a camomille tea to ensure an even more peaceful mind for when she would wake up. Every half an hour Draco kept reheating her cup, just so whenever it was she'd wake up, it would already be warm. Between those half an hours, the boy allowed himself to just think. Though where he had first hoped his thoughts would help him explain what exactly had happened, eventually they steered in a direction completely different.

Watching her - really looking at her -, listening to her soft breath, thinking about her - doing all the things he had tried to distance himself from - the locked chamber in his mind where she was hidden had moved somewhat forward. It had and this time Draco didn't push it back. This time he didn't mind, because realistically he had no good reason to keep her away. Not just that, but he really liked the memories he had had with her.

Draco had never expected time would fly this quickly. Yet there it was - all gone. To where? That nobody knew.

Four years had gone by since the day she had stolen his potion in class. 

Three years had gone by after they had sneaked out to get their petty revenge on Kruz Raidlly. It was like yesterday that he remembered Ninomae calling him 'Mark' and explaining to the portrait the details of all that it didn't want to hear until it got annoyed and just let them in. He could see as if it was happening right in front of his eyes, the way she had turned back as the portrait turned to talk to the others to mumble a 'what the hell?' under her breath, after having rambled a sentence she clearly herself disapproved of. The way her lip had upturned in disgust and later morphed into a smile she hadn't had to fake once they had gotten inside.

The first time he had kissed her had been out of sheer frustration - that too now three years ago. But the first time he had thought of doing it again, just standing, watching her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, had happened later. Perhaps that was why he kept smelling smoke in his Amortenia - when he had watched her hushed laughter then, nothing but the smell of smoke and the occasional angered roars of dragons had been surrounding them. She had had her eyes shut, biting down on her knuckle as she lightly thumped his chest, trying her best to keep quiet. He had stood listening to Hagrid and the Beauxbatons headmistress interact with a frown on his face. And yet Ninomae had told him to shut up. Thinking back on it, Draco hadn't yet been able to place why exactly that memory of her had remained so vividly in his mind, yet it had. 

Two years had passed since they had danced at the Yule Ball - since he had held her in his arms, locking his gaze on the determined gleam that had shone in her eyes - swirling with hues of brown and gold - reflecting not just the light form the candles all around but also the gleam she had always naturally had inside her.