Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy

54 - The Boy Who Looked Good in a Suit

Draco let the piece of parchment flutter to the ground by his feet, slowly stepping back from the cabinet as his heart rose up into his throat.

He had done it.

White lights suddenly dotted his vision as he turned on the spot and fled. He suddenly realised he couldn't get to her fast enough; needing to feel her reassuring body in his arms before it was too late.

Although it was three o'clock in the morning, he hoped she'd be where she usually spent her nights these days; in his bed.

"Drac, what is it?" she murmured sleepily, stirring awake as he hurriedly crawled under the sheets and pulled her tightly to him. "Your heart is going like crazy."

"Nothing," he said at once, fervently pressing his lips against her temple, "go back to sleep, I just wanted to hold you."

He felt her nuzzle against him; their bodies relaxing into one another's embrace. He suddenly felt so regretful of all the time that had been wasted that year.

Time he should have spent holding her in his arms; time he should have used telling her just exactly how much she really meant to him.

But now they had less than twenty four hours left and he couldn't even warn her about the horror that was about to unleashed on their world because of him.

He felt her body slacken as she drifted back into a heavy slumber, cocooning his arms tighter around her, trying to memorise everything about that moment; willing the clock to just stand still so that he never had to leave her.

But sadly, the sun came up and it was suddenly time to roll apart and start the day.

Monday the thirtieth of June; nineteen ninety seven.

The day he was going to end a life.

*****

"Earth to Blaire."

I blinked as fingers clicked in front of my eyes; bringing me out of my reverie.

"Sorry, Nev," I sighed, pushing the book in front of me aside. "I'm just not in the mood for homework."

Like I ever fucking was.

"Yeah, well, it's harsh Flitwick giving us homework when there is literally just a couple of days left till summer." Neville agreed, snapping my book shut for me. "Man, we should be busy planning for my epic seventeenth right now. I'm picturing feather boas and Freddy Mercury face masks. Or is that too much?"

"Umm... sure, sounds good," I said, biting on my thumbnail.

"Girl, I was joking; as if you'd ever catch me wearing a feather boa," Neville chuckled, leaning over to yank my hand away from my mouth. "And quit biting your nails, that's how you get stumpy looking fingers."

I blinked again, looking down at my unnaturally chipped nails.

"Seriously, what's up?" Neville frowned, concern suddenly flooding his face, "you seem a million miles away tonight."

The truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about my last encounter with Draco. Something in the way we had parted seemed so... final.

And it hadn't just been that; he'd been acting strange since the moment I had woken up - to a pair of mournful grey eyes staring down at me as though he thought it was my last day on Earth or something.

He'd insisted on pulling me into the shower with him where he fucked me slowly and sensually against the wall as water spattered down on our connected bodies amongst hot swirling steam. When he kissed me, it was with an ardent and longing desperation, and I could have sworn I could taste the distinct saltiness of tears.