the boy who had no choice [d.m]

𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

ELARA DID IT ANYWAY.

If she valued her life enough, she wouldn't have given her name in. But at that point, she was so exhausted and stressed that she didn't even care what her parents would think when they found out she wasn't going to be coming home.

She'd write them after the train left. So that they couldn't somehow force Freya to take her along, she thought as she raised her hand to tell Professor Flitwick she would be staying at Hogwarts for the winter holidays.

But soon, those thoughts were furthest from her mind as exam season hit.

Every day, Elara found herself sat at the table in a secluded section of the library, poring over books and charts and articles.

No one bothered to join her - Stuart for obvious reasons, Indigo because she barely studied and Tracy because she couldn't concentrate unless she was alone.

The Weasley twins passed by every once in a while, patting her on the back and ruffling her hair, and she even spotted the Golden Trio gathered at another table, talking in low voices.

But Elara found herself skipping even the sessions at the Room of Requirement, choosing to spend that time making notes and revising.

The only time she spared was for Draco.

She told herself it was because he was a good teacher and she enjoyed hand to hand combat - which they were focusing on these days.

But a little part of her brain nagged that she only liked hand to hand combat because it was with him.

Maybe because she finally got to touch him - to feel his skin against hers - even if it was when he was twisting her arm behind her back or swiping her legs out from underneath her so she collapsed in a messy heap.

Regardless, it was the only time she felt she could breathe a little easier, the only time she didn't feel pressured and goaded and -

"What's wrong with you?"

Elara looked up from where she was skipping stones across the Great Lake. "What are you doing here?"

Draco watched as she threw another stone. "I saw you from the Astronomy Tower. Merlin knows what you're doing out here in the cold." He held out his hand. "Here."

Elara stared down at the small cardboard box in his hand. "What -"

"Food," he said, curtly. "You're getting weaker by the day and it's really pissing me off." He shook the box at her. "You're getting way too easy to overpower."

Elara stared at his hand. "And what makes you think I haven't eaten?"

He scoffed, his eyes trailing up and down her physique. "Look at you."

She bristled at his offensive tone. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just take the damn food, Jacobs. I've got things to do." His tone was colder than the air around them.