𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 | 𝐃.𝐌

₂₁ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇꜰᴛ

Sρσƚιϝყ ρʅαყʅιʂƚ ϝσɾ αʂʂαʂʂιɳʂ
ʅιɳƙҽԃ ιɳ ɱყ Ⴆισ
┈˃̶༒˂̶┈

Draco's grasp on Ava didn't once loosen. Not when the death eaters laughed and praised the Dark Lord for killing Hermione. Not when Ava's tears wet Draco's hand. Not when the Dark Lord walked past them, his death eaters following behind him, leaving Hermione's body to rot under the moonlight.

Only did Draco let go, after five minutes. Minutes which didn't feel like anything. Time had disappeared in Ava's mind. The world had stopped. The guilt in her stomach made her whole body become still. But her chest became heavy and her breathing became unsteady.

Draco gently released his hold on Ava but her body remained still. Her head hurt from how much she was crying. Her vision was a blurry mess and her hands shook. Draco walked so he was in front of her. Ava's eyes didn't meet his but his icy gaze stared into her brown hues deeply.

"Ava," His voice was dry, "you need to listen to me very carefully."

Still, her eyes remained on the ground.

"Hey!" Draco gripped her arm and his tough yet gentle touch made her eyes shoot to his.

No sign of the Ava he knew was in them. And he had seen her at her worst. Had seen her lifeless, cold and lonely but never had he seen her so broken.

"She's dead," Ava told him.

Suddenly, everything, all that planning and running, all that fighting and effort Ava put into getting Hermione out, seemed to happen so fast, became useless. A waste of time.

"I'm sorry," a genuine apology from Draco, "but unless you want to end up dead too, I have to get you out of here."

He spoke fast as he looked out of the alcove. As though to check if anyone saw coming.

"They know Hermione wasn't alone," He continued, "They know you helped her and the dark lord will kill you for what you have done."

Ava could care. Not even if she wanted to. Her tears had stopped falling. Her heart rate had slowed, her brain didn't feel a single emotion. She knew she should have been scared but she wasn't. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.

"Let them,"

"Don't you dare talk like that, Ava," Draco gripped her harder, worry filling his eyes, "don't you understand that the dark lord will let his men torture you in ways you wouldn't think possible."

Ava met his eyes, "I'd kill them before they had the chance."

"I have no doubt you would try," Draco replied, "but there's no way in hell I'm letting them get their hands on you."

"Why?" Ava snapped, a storm of rage in her eyes, "why the hell do you care?"

Draco seemed taken back and surprised by her question. There was a reason. A good reason why Draco cared, but now was not the time for that explanation.

"Because I do," Draco snapped back.

"That's not a good enough reason," Ava snarled, "you did nothing but bully my friends and I in school. You—You called Hermione a mud-blood every chance you got. You envied Harry and you despised Ron because his family didn't meet your ridiculous Pureblood expectations. And me? You hated me because I was friends with them? I never did anything to you. Nor did they. And they're all dead."