The Potion Incident Part 2

The Feathered Quill (Betrayal)

You couldn't tell if you were dreaming or not. You heard small breaths in and out every few seconds. Quiet slurps from a cup. Settle rustling of pages being turn with a couple of heavy sighs now and then. The loudest thing you identified was a scratchy quill pen being written on a piece of parchment. That feathered pen was driving you insane, you hated the sound of it.

The last thing you knew was real was Draco setting you down on a bed. He made sure reassure you that everything was okay and you were safe. After that, you doze off. Now you couldn't tell between real and your mind. Funny to think that he doesn't know you can hear him. To think that Draco would be the type of person to talk to himself alone, if the extremely noisy quill was Draco at all.

You were sure there was only one person with you. You sworn an hour ago you heard a door open, maybe it was in your head. You pondered a list of ideas to say to Draco in the meantime. You were ready to apologize if you needed too, not exactly sure what you needed to apologize for. Well, besides accidentally cheating on him. But the worst part is, you were absolutely sure he's done the same to you while he was gone. Astoria wasn't a coincidence, it was planned. How could Draco not understand!?

You took a break from thinking and focused on moving your fingers. It seemed like you've been in the same position for 4 hours. All you could do was think, you were tired of thinking. You wanted answers.

If you thought any longer you would start making excuses to yourself that you didn't deserve Draco anymore. You didn't stand up to Lucius, you should've. If you sent one letter it wouldn't have killed you. This was your fault. You laid your head back during those four days while drinking and forgetting that terrible problem. You let your guard down while Lucius took full advantage.

This made you terribly angry, enough to just scream or cry. You thought of clenching your fingers on the soft bed comforter but you were still paralyzed by the spell. This was worse then Snape's potion class. You needed to speak, explain Draco everything. This was torture.

You heard a desk chair squeak and a heavy sigh of someone standing up. They set a book on the desk and put down what sounded like a mug. And thank god, you heard the ear screeching quill come to a stop.

You felt the weight of the bed mattress be pulled down on your side. They sat next to you. You felt the warmth of the individuals body close to you. Your mind exploded in alerts to try to get you to move. You breathing grew heavier.

"You can relax, it's me." A comfortable voice reached the top of your ears. It was Draco, he never left you. You wanted to ask him how long you've been here or just why in general. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't move.

Your breathing grew staggered. Trying even harder to move and open your eyes. It was hard work. A cold hand was placed on your hot cheek, you were burning up. Draco's hand slid across your cheek and tucked a strand of hair over you ear.

This was tiring. Your body ached in serval places, seems like you were gaining full consciousness. The hand quickly left your ear as you tired so hard to lift your hand up and tug it back to you.

No, you're done with this shit. You need his hand back on you, you wished for him to comfort you again. Tell you everything's okay. You felt your chest move up and down, then you heart beating fast. Your fingers lightly twitched, that was the strongest you could move.You couldn't push anymore. You completely relaxed you body again, catching your breathe for a couple of seconds.

Suddenly, you felt alone, like no one was there anymore. All the things you heard or things you felt were non-existent. You only heard the shortness of your breath. You started to hear the sound of a distinctive ticking. You haven't noticed that this whole time, it sounded like clock. You couldn't identify where you were. You sworn you could've heard that over the scratching of the pen. It didn't take long before it bothered you. It was worse than the pen. You need to get up before you go insane.