the only person awake
Malfoy hastily shrugged his winter quidditch coat on, grabbing his thickest dragonhide gloves from the common room mantlepiece.
It was early, 5:25 exactly, his favourite time. When it was so early it was easy to pretend he was the only person awake.
He swaggered out the main doors, heading straight for the sports pitches. No one saw him go.
“Accio broom!” he shouted, louder than yesterday. He laughed, spreading his arms wide and smiling up at the cold grey clouds as the winds swirled around him.
The broom sped towards him, and he seemed to pluck it out of the air. In a second, he had swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the frozen hard ground, and in two, he was soaring just below the clouds, and high above even the highest tower of Hogwarts.
The clouds seemed to rumble, as if conversing. It was softly threatening – a recognised danger yet also a strange comfort. He had a sudden urge to fly higher.
The clouds encased him, immediately soaking his clothing and nipping at the flushed red tips of his uncovered ears.
He noticed the water vapour draped over him quickly freeze to a thin sheet of ice. He almost shivered.
Dipping lower, just above the canopy of the forbidden forest, he sped up, and the ice splintered off with the pressure of the wind.
He huffed as the cold returned in waves, lashing against his skin.
Draco skimmed over a frosty peak, inhaling sharply as the view hit him almost as hard as Granger had the previous weekend.
This was something he would never admit to Theo, who had taunted him about the Incident incessantly, coming around corners and miming a punch just to watch him flinch away.
He had even draped a handmade banner over the canopy on Malfoy's bed, which read “proudly fisted by granger” - safe to say it was mortifying. Although, it had brought great entertainment to the rest of the group, something he was glad for, because he didn’t know how much more gloom he could handle.
They had all rushed in when they heard Draco’s groans of humiliation, and he unfortunately was too late in tearing it down.
For a moment, they all looked silently at each other, before Blaise broke the silence by half snorting, half choking on his laugh, which of course set them all off into peals of mirth.
“Fisted? Is that really the best phrasing that you could find??” Draco roared, exasperated,
“Yeah, Thot, I was expecting more creativity” Blaise said, suppressing his laughter
Theo glared at him, whacking the back of his head with a pillow for the crude (but true) nickname “Oi, leave creativity out of this, what’s the fun in Thot?”
“Theo, Nott.. Just put em together and you get Thot!” Zabini grinned, “and it’s not exactly as if the connotations are untrue..” he smirked, wincing as Theo switched out the pillow for a book.
Gods, his friends were... questionable. Not in a bad way – it could be worse.
Maybe. He snorted to himself, shaking his head in subdued laughter.
***
She screamed into her pillow. It was 5:25 exactly, her favourite time. When it was so early it was easy to pretend she was the only person awake.
Her lungs ached from crying, and her throat felt raw and dry. Hermione un-screwed her puffy, tear-stained eyes and sat up stiffly, shuffling back and leaning over her bedside desk to grab her mug of steaming tea from yesterday.
It was still piping hot because of the insulo cadiea charm she had placed on the cup last night.
It was an own invention, and something, she realised as she took a sip of scolding hot tea, she was still perfecting.
It burned down her throat making her cough and splutter, and she felt her eyes water. Great. More tears. She stared at the ceiling, biting her lip.
She loved Ron, but gods she hated him.
As if Crooks would ever ‘kill’ his good-for-nothing rat! And if he did, well – the stupid rat was good for nothing!
He slept day in and day out, and his patchy hair gave him the appearance of a balding old man.
In comparison to Crookshanks – why even bother caring?
Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but for someone who said he liked her, Ron was behaving like a toddler, so in her mind he deserved it.
And it wasn’t like she was being harsh to his face.. although punching Malfoy had been admittedly very therapeutic.. She kept this thought stored in the back of her mind as she closed her eyes gently and willed her angry, buzzing mind to settle.
Exhaling, she opened her eyes, and glanced silently around the room. It was her dorm, which she shared with Lavender and Pavarti, both of which she found annoyingly high-pitched and really quite vain.
Luckily, they both slept like logs, so she rarely woke them on her early morning ventures.
She liked to walk around the school quietly contemplating “things” - which really just meant dwelling on her Ron situation far too much than was healthy.
Sometimes, she popped her head into the library, to retrieve or return a book, and occasionally she walked all the way up the spiral stairs of the astronomy tower to sit on the very edge of the platform, with her back to the iron railing.
The height didn’t scare her, but sometimes her own power did. The control over her own life – it made her shudder.
The view, though, was worth it.
You could see for miles in every direction, and as the colder winter days rolled in the landscape shifted from bright and sunny to harsh and cold, yet still just as beautiful.
The cooler tones of the atmosphere contrasted with the reds of autumn, and while the warm palettes brought her comfort and cosiness, the roughness of winter calmed her.
The silence seemed more.. Silent.
***