Winning Over Slytherin | Draco Malfoy

Chapter 53: Loving & Letting Go

L O V I N G  &  L E T T I N G  G O

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I broke my own heart by letting you hold onto it for too long. It's my own fault. And yet, I would break it again if it meant reliving these past three years with you by my side.
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Mal's POV

"Mal, we've got to leave. We can't stay. Not if this whole school is about to go to shit." Fred told me.

"I know." I walked quickly towards the Slytherin dorms. No one knows we broke up. It happened seconds ago, how could they?

"What are you waiting for?"

"I've just gotta grab my stuff. I'll meet you outside."

"I'm going in with you."

"That's very dangerous right now."

"Don't care." He shrugged. I sighed and gave the password to enter the Slytherin dorms. I ran up to my room and, with Fred's help, stuffed the few things I had there in a bag, then I picked it up and started going to the last place I wanted to go right now. Draco's room. "Mal, why are we heading towards the boy's dormitories?"

"Because. I have to pick up some stuff."

"From?"

"Draco's." I heard him groan and rolled my eyes. "Wait outside."

"But—" He started to argue but I closed the door on him before he had a chance too. I heard him lean against the wall and I put my bag down. This is it. This is the last time I'm going to be in here.

My eyes scanned the room as I tried to memorize every small aspect of the it: his button down I often slept in was hanging on a chair, the bed was still made, our picture was still framed above his bed, the picture I painted of him was still on above his desk. Quills were scattered across the desk and the ink had tipped over, staining the wood. I sighed and went over to pick it up and clean it. I opened the drawer and suddenly found it: the notebook he was always writing in. I hesitated a second before actually taking a seat on the bed with the notebook in my hand. I analyzed the notebook and it's withered down pages, a clear show of evidence that he used it regularly. Taking a big breath in, I opened the notebook. It's not a notebook. It's a sketchbook.

I gasped when I saw the first drawing: me laughing as snow, from the snowball he threw at me so many years ago, landed on my mouth. I looked at the top right corner and in very small letters was the date: Dec. 24. 1993.

This was almost 4 years ago. Wait. I closed the sketchbook and flipped it back and forth. This is the sketchbook my parents gave him for Christmas. Huh, so he did use it. And he's not bad at all, he's really good at drawing.

I flipped to the next page: April, 1994. A drawing of me sleeping, a strand of hair covering part of my face, and a hand reaching out to remove it. Draco's hand. This was the night we all had that Sirius scare, and he slept next to me, and I didn't have nightmares, no one found out about them. I felt sadness in my stomach. I miss Sirius so much.

I flipped to the next page: Sept. 1, 1994. A drawing of me, coming out of the Hogwarts express, looking away, robe in my hand, my tie tied loosely around my neck and my button down tucked into my skirt. Everything was in black and white, except my hair. He colored in my dark red hair. I smiled at this. He knows how much I like my hair when it's dark red. I felt that sadness creep up again. He knows me well. Too well.

I flipped the page again: this time, I wasn't in it. It was a small, golden cauldron, with strong aroma coming out of it. He drew that aroma to be coconut, books, and paint. It's Amortentia. So he did smell it, he smelled me. I remembered how much I enjoyed smelling him in mine.