What the Room Requires

So, this format isn't the prettiest, but when I saw that LoveAndOtherStuff had taken my story and posted it here as their own (which GREATLY offended me), I thought the REAL one ought to at least have a presence here. Here is a link to its original home on fanfiction.net, where it has over a thousand reviews: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6532581/1/What_the_Room_Requires

I hope you enjoy the story--and if you do, please let ME know rather than LoveAndOtherStuff--who didn't do a single stitch of it! Thanks!:)

 

 

VVVVVVVV

 

 

“I just need a little more time…” Hermione is the one who finds Draco weeping in the bathroom. He flees from her. She chases him into the Room of Requirement, where time means nothing—and the room forces them to face their greatest fears, together, in order to find the door.

 

 

What the Room Requires

            I sensed him come in. He carries a kind of chill with him, Draco Malfoy. At least for me. The look of ice, the aspect of snow.

I was sitting in the great hall, suspended in awkward silence between me and Ron as we craned our necks to watch Harry chase after Katie Bell—the girl we had seen thrown into the air and then tossed down by an invisible force—a terrible curse. But Malfoy’s entrance stopped my memories, and I glanced up.

Malfoy stopped right in front of me and Ron. He wasn’t wearing school robes—just trousers, a white shirt and plaid sweater-vest and tie. He looked pale, shadows under his eyes. And he froze where he stood, staring straight ahead of him. At Harry. And Katie.

For a moment, the noise all around me faded into the background, and a cold stone settled down in my gut. I was right before, when I had talked to Harry—Malfoy really did look ill. But right in that moment, I didn’t even recognize him. Usually, he entered with a swagger and a smirk, no matter how weak nowadays, that I tried to ignore. But now…? Now, his confidence was gone. His pale blue eyes looked tired—afraid. My brow furrowed. How had a change like that happened, and why? I swallowed. When had I actually cared enough to find out?

His body tensed—leaned back. I glanced down the aisle…

To see that he and Harry’s gazes had locked. My fists closed.

And then Malfoy looked at me. For just a second, he turned his head, met my eyes with a stark, trapped gaze, then retreated out of the noisy hall. I froze.