Winning Over Slytherin | Draco Malfoy

Chapter 70: Amends

A M E N D S

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I've made many mistakes in my life, but you're not one of them.
~~~

Mal's POV

Draco got out of the hospital two days later and I had already brought him to his dorm. We were sitting across from each other, him on his bed, me on his desk chair, awkward tension floating in the air as we each said nothing. I picked at the paint on my fingernails while he played with his rings and looked at the floor. I sighed and decided to break the tension.

"So... your room looks different." I looked around, seeing how blank everything was: the walls, the desk, the room in general looked so... empty. It feels so sad.

"Yeah. I didn't really put anything in it. Didn't feel like it." He shrugged.

"Right." I nodded and picked at my nails again. Yeah. Awkward.

"Can we just talk about it?" He sighed.

"About what?" I tried to play stupid.

"How fucking stupid you were back there." Ok so maybe I don't have to "play" stupid.

"I wasn't fucking stupid. You're not a death eater anymore. Problem solved."

"But you are now. Problem not solved." He countered.

"I made a promise to protect you. That's what I did."

"I hate that. I should be protecting you."

"Why? Because you're a guy and I'm a girl?" I scoffed.

"No. Don't try to pick a fight with me right now. I just mean I really wish I could have protected you."

"Well, you still can." I tried to comfort him.

"You've been branded Katerina." He basically whispered and leaned over closer to me.

"Ah yes, everyone loves to be talked about as cattle."

"You know what I mean. Look." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't want to fight with you." He ran his finger along my right arm, making my breath catch at the feeling. God, it's been so long since I've felt you so close to me.

"I don't want to fight with you either." I interlaced my fingers with his. "I'm tired of it."

"I... I really hated seeing you in that kind of pain a couple days ago. I hate my aunt for that. Truly. I wanted to--"

"No. You're not that type of person." I rubbed his hand softly.

"Thanks to you."

"Don't say that. You're great all by yourself."

"You're pretty great too."

"I know, it doesn't get much better." I teased.

"What's this?" He poked at my pocket.

"Oh. Umm--" I laughed a little to myself. "It's really lame but... I wrote stuff down. Just moments when I saw or experienced something that made me think of you." I took the notecards out of my pocket and showed him. This is so pathetic.

"Awe, you missed me." He teased and poked at a dimple on my cheek.

"Yeah. I did miss you fool." I finally admitted. After almost a year of denying it, I was tired of hiding the truth. Maybe that makes me pathetic but so be it.

"Well... we're the same person." He stood up and opened his desk drawer, taking out something from there. He opened his hand and showed me he had done the same on notecards as well.