✓ WE NEVER SLEEP, draco malfoy

T H I R T Y - O N E

"You will never understand the love I feel, for you sleep in me, for you are asleep."

— Federico García Lorca, "The Beloved Sleeps on the Poet's Breast"

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Snape took her to his office and as she climbed the tall stairs to the D.A.D.A. classroom, she felt her heart sink lower and lower into her nervous stomach. Her mind was racing with thoughts of new punishments for every little terrible thing she'd done so far.

Expulsion for cursing another student.

Expulsion and a sentence to Azkaban for using the Cruciatus Curse on another person. 

Azkaban for trying to assassinate the headmaster.

Detention for sneaking out of her dorm at night.

Detention for sleeping in another dorm.

The list goes on and on.

Snape motioned for her to close the door behind her and she did so, taking in a deep breath to settle herself down. When she turned, she found him standing before his desk and thanked him silently for redoing Umbridge's horrifying decor. The pink and the cats had been dreadful but something about the room now belonging to Snape it all the more horrifying.

"Would you like the chance to confess, Ms. Greer?" 

Her brows furrowed as her heart rate sped up like a thick, nasty pound against her chest like something trying to break free from within its shell. "Confess to what, professor?"

"Playing dumb, I see," he sighed, flicking the sleeves of his robes against from his hands. "It'd go so much smoother if you would confess instead of us going about this guessing game of blame."

"I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Don't you?" He had the faint lines of an amused smile as if entertained by her lies. "Shall we discuss the incident involving Ms. Bell? Or perhaps, the cursed necklace that you were seen purchasing?"

Rowan felt her skin grow warm and her stomach churned. If she wasn't careful, she'd loose her gut all over Snape's shoes. "I'm sorry?" 

"Or shall we discuss the situation between you and Mr. Malfoy, instead?"

"Professor–"

"You're playing a very dangerous game, Ms. Greer. You do understand that, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped out, breathless. Her legs felt weak and she was suddenly picturing herself being escorted off campus in chains and what was waiting for her was a cold, dirty cell. 

"What's your endgame, Ms. Greer? What are you expecting to happen once you're done assisting Malfoy? Hmm?" Snape crossed his arms, looking at her through dangerously dark eyes. 

Buck up, she snapped at herself. Prove yourself and show all your cards.

"I'm trying to follow out with his pointless task, obviously, professor."

Snape's grip on his arms loosened and they rested against his stomach, his hands now clasped together. His brows were pulled together, having thought she would've kept on lying.

You are Rowan Greer, she told herself. You are a Greer, now start acting like one.

"You think a Slytherin can get away with a task such as his?" she scoffed, shaking her head. She was channeling Florence and thought if the girl had been here, she would've been proud. "I would've been successful but, sadly, nothing goes right with Potter and his friends around."