Azkaban

Give Me Your Hand

Amarea's heart had stopped abruptly at the sight in front of her. It had seemed like a normal morning at first; she stumbled out of bed, dragging herself to the bathroom with half-closed eyes and blurry vision to brush her teeth. It was only when she walked back out that she had seen it. There she stood, a towel wrapped around herself, a hand over her mouth as she stared. Looking around the room quickly, she speed-walked to her closet, grabbed clothes, and nearly sprinted back into the bathroom.

Her shock hadn't lessened any the second time she saw him, the disheveled figure lying beside her bed. How Amarea had missed him getting up was beyond her. It was a wonder that she hadn't stepped on him with how close he was to the bed, spread out on his stomach and hugging a singular pillow like his life depended on it.

A mop of tousled platinum hair was splayed across the stark white pillowcase. Soft snores filled the air, accompanied by the occasional rustling of feathers produced by Amarea's owl in the corner. The last thing she wanted to do was wake the boy up, but she also didn't want him in her room.

Grimacing, Amarea waves her hand, sending clothes out of her hamper and down the laundry chute, along with the occasional robes, cloaks, and a random hoodie she didn't remember throwing on the floor. Walking over, she brought her foot up to nudge the boy, hesitating once she saw the blissful look on his face. Amarea didn't think she had ever seen him calmer.

Crouching, she brings a hand up to his shoulder, gently shaking him. "Draco...Draco, wake up for Merlin's sake." The boy lets out a small noise, and Amarea's eyebrows raise in surprise, her face heating up. "Draco, seriously. It's time to get up."

She watches his eyes slowly flutter open and is flung back when the boy shoots up, sending them both toppling. "Fucking hell," Draco says, the both of them groaning from the impact. Moving her shoulder, Amarea hisses at the pain before trying in vain to sit up.

"Get up you overgrown yeti, you're gonna kill me." Her words make Draco roll off her and she sucks in the air dramatically.

"I am not that heavy," he argues, rolling his eyes.

They both breathe heavily, and after a while Amarea sits up, resting against her bed frame. "You're about to be dead weight if you don't explain why the hell you're in my room." Leaning up on his elbows, Draco shakes his head, trying to get the hair out of his eyes.

He doesn't say anything for a while, just staring at the black-haired woman across from him. "First of all," he starts, "I'm not a yeti. And for your information, I brought you back here after class yesterday. You don't remember?"

Amarea stares at him, "Well if I remembered I wouldn't be asking you, would I?"

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Well, after class you were drained and wouldn't let go of my robe so I just carried you to your room. It didn't look like you were going to make it on your own anyway. I almost had to fight Weasley on it."

Ignoring his last comment, she stands up, making sure her gloves were on tightly before grabbing her wand from underneath her pillow. "That doesn't explain why you were sleeping on my floor."

"You wouldn't let go of me."

"You could have pulled my hand off. "

"You don't like people touching you," he argues. "I thought me carrying you was already too much." Amarea looks at him in surprise, quickly putting on her usual poker face again. Opening the window for her owl, she watches the creature fly away before turning back to Draco.

The boy was up, trying desperately to fix his hair in a random dirty mirror that had been in the room when Amarea was given the key. Truth be told, she hadn't done much to the room, only cleaning it and getting a new bed. It needed some remodeling, but she didn't have the time or motivation to start the project.