𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐕𝐈

It was breakfast in the Great Hall again, Draco wasn't there. It could be that it was still too early, I was the only one at the Gryffindor table right now, but I wasn't counting on him showing up. From what I know, he never came back to the dorm.

I thought about what I said as I stared at my empty plate.

You chose to kill.

Everything about your life is wrong.

You're a horrible person.

That didn't sound like me, did it? Even now, I'm not sure I truly meant everything I had said. But still, I wasn't sorry.

I just don't know why I kept talking. Clearly, he wasn't going to retaliate. I think, maybe it was everything I had bottled up over the years, everything I wanted to say to him but never got the chance. And now that the chance had arouse, it was the wrong moment.

Oh God. I made Draco Malfoy cry. And I didn't like it.

Even eight years ago, I still don't think I would've liked it. Draco Malfoy was sarcastic and bitter and cold. Draco Malfoy wasn't supposed to cry.

"Morning, Harry! My, you're up early. Everything alright with you and Malfoy?" asked Hermione as she took the seat next to me on the bench.

"Sure, sure."

"Because if it's not, Harry, you need to tell someone. He can't be going around hurting anyone, not again."

"Give it a rest, Hermione. I'm fine."

"You still haven't spoken?"

"No," I lied. I wasn't going to tell her what I'd said. I don't think she would want to be my friend anymore. Plus, I was really starting to hate myself because of it.

"Perhaps," she went on, "this is the year where you two could be civil? Maybe you could finally get along? If he hasn't said or done anything nasty yet, he might really be trying to change."

Yeah, I could sort of see that now. I refused to believe he was a good person, or anything of the sort, but maybe, maybe he was trying.

"Whatever, Hermione," was all I could say.

We sat in silence for a little while. Hermione poured herself some tea and started mixing the liquid around with a stirring spoon. The metal clinking against the glass made my head sting in a way I cannot explain.

"You know, Harry," she began, "I don't think I've seen Malfoy in here once since the feast. You don't think he hasn't eaten anything, do you? It's been two days." I could hear a hint of it in her voice, she tried to hide it, but Hermione sounded worried. "Now that I think about it, you haven't either. Eat something. Classes start today."

She looked at me, eyes hard, and sounded harsh. When I didn't move she put some toast on my plate and pushed my goblet of pumpkin juice towards me.

I stared at the food with chill distaste. I don't remember the last time I had a real appetite. Every time I put something in my mouth would be the exact same time I would start thinking about the bodies I saw the last time we had been in the Great hall before now.

Fred's was the one that always made me want to hurl.

"Honestly Hermione, I'm feeling a little sick. I don't think I could stomach it."