Chosen || Draco Malfoy

49 - Eyes Tight Shut

"Cecilia!"

I freeze as Draco's voice calls after me.

Fuck, he is supposed to be playing Quidditch.

"Be cool," Harry murmurs next to me. "Don't give anything away."

I whirl around, my heart hammering against my ribs.

To my shock, Draco is being closely followed by two pretty blonde girls, both of whom are tripping over their feet to keep up with him.

"Uh- aren't you about to play against Gryffindor?" I ask, feeling my face grow hot.

Draco shakes his head, his white-blond hair falling over his eyes. I notice only now just how fucking ill he is looking, and resist reaching out to touch his greying face.

"I called off sick," he says, swallowing, taking a step closer to me.

"Draco," one of the blonde girls giggle shyly, reaching out to touch his elbow, "shouldn't we be going?"

My eyes flick towards her, experiencing a horrific twist in my chest.

"And so should we," Harry says quietly in my ear.

The Adam's Apple bobs in Draco's throat as he looks at me. "Look, Cece, it's not what you think-"

"It's okay," I interrupt hurriedly. "I hope you get better soon."

I turn and hurry away before he can say anything else.

Half an hour later, I am sat in sparse white room, trying to blink back the tears.

"It'll be fine," Harry assures me, "you're doing the right thing. I mean, Malfoy is hardly the settling down type. Look at him, throwing away the chance to beat Gryffindor at Quidditch just so he can have a threesome."

I say nothing, trying desperately to ignore the tight feeling in my chest. What I would give in that moment for a hug, to be held by someone who genuinely cares.

Who am I kidding? I need that hug to be from Draco.

I look around at the white walls, the basic furniture, the pile of untouched magazines in the table in the corner.

A door opens.

"Miss Diggory?"

I look up as a nurse steps into the room, clipboard in arms, glancing around expectantly at the silent occupants.

I look at Harry, and he gives me a nod. "You're not ready for this, Cece. First, save the world."

Shakily, I rise to my feet, allowing my eyes to meet the nurse's. And then I follow her.

******

"Is she okay?"

I squeeze my eyes tight shut as I curl myself up into a ball on my bed and listen to the soft murmurings of my dorm mates through the closed drapes.

"She's been laying in that bed all evening," I hear Susan say quietly, "she even missed the Quidditch match earlier."

"Perhaps that's why she's being moody," Hannah spits nastily, "can't bear that her precious boyfriend had been thwarted by Gryffindor again."

"But Malfoy wasn't even playing."

My stomach violently rips again and I turn my head to muffle my cries of pain into my pillow.

I had not been prepared for just how awful this was going to be. You might experience after pain, the nurse had said before I was discharged from the clinic.