𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐗

Draco protested continuously as I yanked on his arm, dragging him through the corridors, past the straining glares of students and through the ceiling high doors that led outside to the courtyard.

We got lucky this year; Halloween fell on a Saturday, meaning we didn't have any classes.

"You couldn't have at least took the time to let us grab our coats?" Draco said as soon as the rough air hit our faces.

I led us out farther until we were standing side by side in the middle of the empty courtyard. Clad in nothing but my t-shirt and plaid bottoms and him in his usual black attire. I wasn't even wearing shoes.

"The hell are we doing out here?" he demanded, shivering.

"It's snowing," I replied excitedly.

"I noticed."

I nudged his side in a playful manner, to which he flinched and gave me a foul expression.

"It never snows this early in the year."

He rolled his eyes and slouched, but didn't leave. I could have gone outside by myself, but it just wouldn't be right.

We stood close, almost touching shoulders. I pointed my face towards the sky, letting the infinite number of snowflakes land and melt on my face.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Draco stare aimlessly at the stone structures in front of us.

"You're acting like a child," he said suddenly, but it wasn't menacing or mocking in any way. It was more matter-of-fact. Almost amusing if you really searched for it.

I was acting childish, and it felt great. There was a hint of a salty emotion somewhere deep within, the one that never goes away, but as of right then, it was easily ignorable.

To be a child. What a pleasurable opportunity.

Such an opportunity which was so indifferent to myself, being thrown into a life which forced me to grow up too soon.

I smiled, a genuine smile. Not the smile I used when talking with professors or the quick little twitch of the mouth when passing by someone in the halls. This smile was one of true content.

I looked fully at Draco. He wasn't smiling, but I think he wanted to. Stopping himself from the painful humiliation of—Merlin forbid—anyone knowing that Draco Malfoy was capable of emotions.

"Seriously," Draco pressed, "what are we doing out here? It's below zero bloody degrees."

I chuckled breathily. My exhale presenting itself similar to smoke.

"Just breathe," I told him.

And we did. we stood still in our icy clothes and watched our breaths come out in warm puffs through our noses.

There was this little thought in my head that presented itself every now and then as I gazed in awe at the boy next to me. The one I didn't like that told me that Draco Malfoy was beautiful.

Most times, I played it off to myself as a sort of platonic admiration or possibly fascination. Because what was there not to be fascinated with? Draco was such a complex being, one that I doubted at times if he was actually human, or a kind of Godly messenger in disguise.