Under the Willow Tree | Draco Malfoy

chapter 12: you're hiding something

Draco Malfoy | 4th Year

With a long groan, Draco woke up the next morning. He tugged his covers higher over his body and glared at the ceiling as if it was to blame for his exhaustion. From one of the nearby beds, he heard soft snores while from Theo's bed, indistinct phrases tumbled from the boy's asleep mouth.

Like usual, Blaise was already awake and prancing about the room. He wore a smug smile that never ceased, and his eyes were constantly scanning the room and his roommate's discarded belongings. For what he was searching for, Draco had no idea. His narrowed eyes and constantly shifting movements made Draco's suspicion grow.

"What are you doing, Zabini?" Draco spat while he propped himself up onto his elbows.

"Nothing that concerns you," Blaise said with a bored stare, yet his tone was bouncing with amusement.

Draco whipped his covers off and sprung from his bed. He shot Blaise a nasty glare and marched towards his trunk. After ensuring the black and forest green trunk was still shut and latched, Draco spun around and glared daggers at Blaise.

Blaise snickered at Draco's actions as his eyes drifted over Draco's tense form lazily. "It's pretty obvious you're hiding something Draco, but I'll figure it out. I always do."

"Don't act like you're Mr. Transparent," Draco bit back with an exaggerated eye roll.

Blaise opened his mouth to utter another snarky reply, but before he could form even a syllable, two pillows soared through the air and smacked into each of the standing boys. From his bed, Theo snapped, "Shut. Up. I cannot believe the both of you are fighting before the sun has even come up."

Draco and Blaise both snapped their attention to the mountain of covers in Theo's corner of the room. They couldn't see the dark-haired boy, but his grumpiness was clear through the bundle of blankets. After this scolding statement, the room fell into a tense silence once more, but the conversation didn't resume once the snores became the only sound.

Draco glared after Blaise, who disappeared into their dorm's bathroom, but Blaise never even spared Draco another glance. His smug smile stayed on his lips as he left the room, leaving Draco submerged in darkness and chest-crushing anxiety once more.

--

After the fight with Blaise that morning, Draco's day hadn't been getting much better. At breakfast, he got a letter from his mum explaining how father wanted to see Draco's soulmate letters when he came home next. Draco was both relieved and terrified to think of how he had already burned both of these letters to ashes. Privately though, he had memorized each clue.

N, Muggle-born.

Truthfully, a small part of him ached to know who these two identifiers belonged to. He liked the idea that there was a person out there who was perfect for him, destined to love him. However, Draco also dreaded his future. If his mum was right when she spoke to him about it, this girl would change everything, and he was so bloody scared that these changes wouldn't exactly be positive ones.

The heavy feeling in his lungs and clammy skin stayed with him through his morning classes and into Defense Against the Dark Arts. Theo was sitting beside him with his head propped up on his palm, and his eyes were drifting shut as Theo kept nodding off.

Draco tried to ignore his exhausted roommate and instead stared down at his desk. His eyes roamed over to the slightly fainter ink he had inscribed there, and his anxieties were replaced by a new feeling.

Anger.

How could that person have written him a note and so nosily said--? Draco paused his angry thoughts as he tried to recall what the note had actually said. Why couldn't he remember? Merlin, this was going to bother him now.

After letting out an irritated sigh, Draco plucked the letter from underneath the table, not expecting a reply to his cold response and instead just wanted to remind himself of what the writer had said, but he was mistaken in his assumption. On the back of the parchment, there was a long note scrawled there in the same delicate handwriting as before. Why hadn't this person given up?

Draco rolled his eyes, but something in his chest lurched to know what the person had written back to him. As his eyes devoured the words on the page that outlined this writer's favorite things, Draco swore he could feel a little spark start up in his chest again.

He maintained his cold expression, even as he tugged out a piece of parchment to reply to this person, something he never thought he'd do willingly.

Your favorite color is pink? Merlin, you're a "girly girl," aren't you?

I don't listen to Muggle music, and I have absolutely no interest in listening to that filth.

I don't have a favorite person.

Rain is fine I guess. It's obnoxious when it interrupts quidditch though.

After he finished writing these guarded replies, Draco stared down at the page with fingers that were slightly quivering. He had never said so much to a stranger before, even if others would consider his answers to provide nothing. He didn't like the way his stomach twisted when he saw how his answers became looser with each line.

Draco nearly crumpled the parchment and began again, but Theo suddenly sat straight up in a sudden panic, so Draco shoved the note under the desk and recast the charm to keep it stuck there.

So, with heart pounding and stomach tumbling, Draco listened to Professor Moody's lecture and tried not to think about his note or his mum's letter or what his father's reaction would be to him not having his soulmate hints anymore.

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