Break Me || Harry Potter

Chapter 93 - Dancing in the Dark

After Harry's and my talk, I felt like a ton had been lifted from my shoulders. The remainder of Christmas break was spent with smiles and warm hugs, not glares and sharp words. However, as we wound back up for school, I started to pick up on the stiffness of Harry's shoulders.

"Harry, what the hell is wrong?" I whispered to him as we headed up the stairs on the third to last night of Christmas break. Earlier in the night I had seen him with his head in his hands. Something was wrong.

Harry glanced at me from where he had stopped two stairs above me. I stared up at him, watching his emerald eyes glisten in the faint light. The other's had already gone to bed – we were the last two up. The light from the bedrooms above us illuminated his form like a halo.

"Please Harry, I know something is bothering you," I took his hand, clasping it in my own. He broke our stare and looked away, weariness flowing over his face.

"Saige, I'm fine," He tried, but I shook my head.

"Harry," I said. He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine. My heart lurched at the pain in his eyes. "What is it?" I whispered.

"Dumbledore has been meeting with me – it started after we started to fight again... He thinks that he can figure out why we haven't been able to kill Voldemort from memories. He sent me on a task to get a memory from Slughorn – he knows something about Voldemort that we don't." He explained quietly. I straightened.

"Have you gotten it yet?" I asked. Harry shook his head.

"I tried once before we left, but he immediately turned bitter and shut me out... I'm gonna try again when we get back, but there isn't much I can do –" He mumbled. I glanced at my hands.

"If you wanted, I could -" I started, but my voice faded away.

"I don't think it works like that," Harry said. I sighed.

"How long do you have?" I asked. Harry shrugged.

"Dumbledore said as soon as possible. Or Voldemort will kill everyone." He said. I took a deep breath.

"Harry, you're his favorite student. If anyone can get it, it's you. You can do it." I squeezed his hand supportively. Harry flashed a grateful look.

"Thanks," He mumbled. We fell into silence.

"We should probably head to bed. It's late." I said quietly, trying to dispel the awkwardness that had just erupted between us. Harry nodded, turning up the stairs. I followed him up to Ron's room before heading to Fred and George's room, where I had been sleeping. I paused at the door, watching Harry slip silently into his room before turning into mine. I rubbed a hand across my face, wishing a million different things. I wish I could help Harry. I wish he didn't have so much to worry about. I wish none of this had ever happened. The list grew and grew.

I quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top and then climbed into the bed. I lay for a moment, cherishing the crisp coolness of the room since it was winter. Goosebumps rose on my arms, but I welcomed them. Finally, after a while of listening to sounds of people sleeping throughout the house, I rolled into an uneasy sleep.

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Draco had become a regular in my dreams recently. Ever since the attack on the Burrow, ever since that first night, I had become accustomed to seeing him in my dreams, though I didn't quite know what it meant. He was obviously a figment of my imagination; I just didn't know why my mind wanted him. I hated him.

Didn't I?

This time however, something was different. Draco normally came with apologies and kisses – but tonight there was a genuine fear in his voice.