BREATHE -draco malfoy

nineteen.

Ana grasped the tiny parchment in her hand, her breathing picking up. She was sitting on her fourposter in Gryffindor tower, trying to calm her aching chest. It was past midnight, and she hadn't been able to sleep. But she soon wished she had already vanished into slumber because, as soon as Hermione went to bed, she saw a tiny black bird tapping on her window, just barely visible through the winter fog.

Why did he want to meet her? Well, in reality, Ana knew why. He always wanted to meet up with her, and Draco probably thought that Ana would immediately come to him, the promise of secret kisses and sleeping in Draco's bed being overwhelming and impossible to resist. But Ana hesitated. She couldn't do it, not tonight. So she ignored his message completely, laying back down in her bed and falling into a restless sleep.

But the next night, he sent her another bird. And the night after, another. Ana wanted to avoid seeing him at all costs, as she knew she wouldn't be able to control her questions. The realization that had hit her that night at The Burrow, right when she saw the flames out of the Weasley's kitchen window, wasn't going away. The questions she had for Draco were ones she wished she would never have to ask him, as even thinking about them was too horrible. Now that term had resumed, Ana hadn't seen him or even talked to him and she wasn't looking forward to when their paths crossed again. She saw Draco during the day, of course, in potions class and in the corridors. He met her eyes often, especially after she had ignored his first bird as it seemed to irritate him to no end to be ignored. He would look at her questioningly from underneath his blonde eyelashes, but Ana's gaze would leave his eyes as quickly as it had come. She didn't want to speak to him. Not out of anger or out of hurt, but out of fear. The attack on The Burrow had left her shaken and slightly injured, as the cut on her face was still healing and her nerves were no where close to repaired. And more than that, the attack had left her confused. Why had a known murderer and Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, acted like she knew Ana? And why had everyone else come out unscathed, apart from the emotional trauma and an entire house to rebuild, when Ana had gotten cut by her dagger? It felt personal, especially when Ana remembered the glowing heat in Bellatrix's eyes and her offense when Ana had fought against her, as if it was an outrage for her to defend her friends against the dark forces surrounding them.

Eventually, Ana just completely stopped opening the window. The bird would tap and tap ominously on the glass, but she would ignore it. Sometimes she would leave the room altogether, leaping out of bed in frustration to go and wander the dark Hogwarts corridors, away from Draco's offerings of a meeting. She hoped that Draco would just stop, but an entire week passed and the birds kept coming, every night at eleven thirty. Like clockwork.

"Anastasia Prince," a voice called out to her one day during class. It was a class she shared with Draco, and she could feel his eyes on her as Madam Pomfrey spoke.

"Y-Yes?" Ana stuttered. What had happened? Why was the matron asking for her? Was someone hurt?

"You've been requested at the Hospital Wing. It's Ronald Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said. Ana stood shakily, ignoring the stares from her classmates, her professor, and from Draco, who's face had drained of all color.

When Ana got to the Hospital Wing, Ron was laying on one of the beds, unconscious. Ana had just passed a very upset Lavender Brown on her way there, cursing and crying and having a complete meltdown, and soon she knew why. Besides Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Slughorn, Severus, Ginny, and Harry, Hermione was sitting by the bed and clutching Ron's hand to her chest.

"Ah. Miss Prince. Very well. Come, everyone. It seems Mr. Weasley is well tended," Dumbledore said, leading the professors, along with Severus who was giving Ana a strange look, out of the hospital.