50 - Her Mother's Eyes

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We crawled through the small hole at the bottom of the trunk after freezing the Whomping Willow. Me leading the way, Draco following behind.

"Etta, wait," Draco rasped the second I dropped down into the tunnel and started to race up ahead. I skidded to a halt, wheeling round to face him.

"What?" I asked as I impatiently jogged on the spot, keen to go and get this done. I had a bitch to fry.

Draco, however, did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as my awesome self.

Body drooping, pale grey eyes looked exhaustedly into mine as he propped himself up against the tunnel wall, clutching a hand to his chest. His white-blond hair was now dirty in colour, falling messily around his soot and blood streaked face. His normally immaculate black suit was crumpled, filthy and torn.

My heart immediately twisted and I ran straight back to him, pulling his wearied body to mine, hoping to give him some of my strength. His arms clamped around me, hands clinging to my back, and I heard him sigh as he nuzzled his face in my hair, welcoming my embrace.

"I'm sorry, Etta," he murmured despairingly above my ear, "I just can't do this, the thought of taking you to him is killing me."

"Draco, listen to me," I said, bringing my hands up to cup his face and forcing him to look into my eyes. "I've got to do this, this has to be done. You do understand that, don't you?"

Closing his eyes, he slowly nodded, his face screwed up in pain. I reached up on tiptoes, pressing my lips hard against his, desperate for him to draw comfort from me. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer as a huge, shuddering sob escaped him.

"Look, I can go on from here alone," I offered, suddenly feeling desperate to get a move on. I couldn't have anyone holding me back, no matter how hot they were. "Why don't you go and find your mother? She's probably worried."

I had not meant for it to come out sounding as though I was taking the piss, but when you have had a rivalry for as long as ours, it was difficult to keep the ridicule out of my voice.

"I'm not fucking leaving you to face him by yourself!" Draco hollered, looking completely affronted by my suggestion.

I could feel the familiar stirrings of frustration that only Draco Malfoy could evoke in me. And despite this being neither the time nor the place, I could not help but throw a little snide dig at him.

"Wouldn't be the first time," I scoffed, recalling our first year's detention in the Forbidden Forest when he literally ran away screaming from a silly little monster, probably wetting his pants in the process.

He looked as though he was going to argue, but then he paused, a familiar and almost forgotten glint in his eye as he met my defiant stare.

"Alright, Potter," he said, a smirk twitching at his lips as he grabbed my hand. "You're not getting rid of me that easily anymore."

And without another word, he strode on, leading the way to the Shrieking Shack.

That's my boy.

*****

I knew we were close when my scar started prickling.

"Etta?" Draco asked, a deep frown etched upon his face when I could not help but wince from a particular painful twinge.

"It's nothing," I dismissed, not wanting to upset him any further. "It's normal when He's close by."

"Your scar?"

"Yes-" I was cut off as a sudden excruciating pain tore through my head, forcing me to cry out and clasp my hands to my scar.

"Etta!" I felt hands grappling at my arms but I couldn't respond, the pain was so terrible that I was convinced my head was going to split open.

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