the angsty part
Draco held his head tight between his hands as he crouched on the floor of the damp, grimy bathroom, hoping his head would be turned to mush if he pressed hard enough. This whole death eater business was stupid. Absolutely, positively, negatively stupid. Still, it was this or death, maybe (definitely) torture, and who knows what would happen to his mother? His father? Even that stupid elf his father had hired after Dobby was freed.
He cried out into the emptiness, wishing for the silence to swallow him whole, to be free from time and space and stretched out infinitely like he was sucked into a black hole. His arms quickly grew tired of the squeezing, and he dropped them to sit on his knees, his wrists hanging limp. He examined the silver ring slipped delicately over his right ring finger, a gift from his father and a stark reminder of all the stakes his choice held. His throat felt sore, he had spent the afternoon holding in deep sobs, lest they echo into the hallway. His eyes were damp with salty tears, so he stood to splash water on his face. He stopped when he heard the faint squeak of rubber soles just steps away from the bathroom’s entrance.
He hurriedly wiped his damp eyes with his sleeve, his other hand flying to his pocket. He wasn’t keen on letting his guard down ever since Harry attacked him out of the blue. Lucky for him, it was a fellow Slytherin. A girl, but a Slytherin. She was the female prefect in his year, so he knew her. They’d also dated for almost an entire term in their 5th year, so there was that. She held herself much like his father, chin up, chest puffed, a stiff expression keeping her lips pressed into a thin line, always looking a bit disappointed. Her eyes caught Draco’s as she peeked into the bathroom, and her scowl turned into a slight grin, her narrowed eyes widening.
She stepped in ever so politely, as if she was a vampire who had just been invited into a household, her expression giving the same impression. Her shoes, simple canvas sneakers, squealed against the laminate floors, but it did nothing to diminish the impressive air she held.
“I knew I heard someone in here,” She remarked, adjusting the hem of her shirt, a simple green long-sleeved button up— it was a weekend. “Odd that it’s you though. You still working on that thing for—”
“Yes.” Draco hissed, not wanting to hear any iteration of his name.
“Quite the spot you’ve picked.” She glanced around the bathroom, sneakers squeaking incessantly.
“Find me a better spot then.”
“I’ve got a few,” She smiled mischievously.
Draco sighed, not amused by where she was taking this. She’d always done this, ever since year 5. Not that it actually led anywhere, Draco had never let that happen— neither did Pansy —but she seemed insistant in making him uncomfortable for no reason from time to time.
She opened her mouth to speak again.
He spoke before she could.
“Not the time.”
She snapped her mouth closed, finally taking the hint. She instead followed Draco around as he paced from the sink to the stalls. Back and forth, back and forth. When he crouched to just think for a moment, she crouched next to him, adjusting the hem of her shirt when it rode up her back. The quiet drip of a leaky faucet cut through the overwhelming silence, it almost made Draco jump.
“It’s almost past curfew, you know.” She whispered, careful to not disturb him more.
Draco groaned and stood, beelining for the exit. She followed close behind him, hands clasped tightly behind her back. She had a shit-eating grin on her face when he finally stopped at Slytherin’s entrance and looked at her.
“What?”
“Since when have you cared about curfew?” She had a mock surprised look on her face, her lips curled into an amused smile. Draco ignored her and muttered the password, heading as quickly as he could for the boys’ dorms. She stopped him just before he wrenched the unnecessarily heavy door open. Her hand curled around his wrist, wrinkling the slightly damp fabric. She was surprisingly strong.
“It’s not curfew yet, at least not for prefects. Plus, I don’t think Snape will mind what we’ll be out for.” She said, tugging Draco away from the dorms.
“There’s no we in this.” He responded firmly, snatching his sleeve from her grasp.
“There’s no way you’re actually sleeping in… this state,” She gestured to his entire form, waving her arms up and down the length of his body. She grabbed his sleeve again, a bit tighter this time. Insistent, she ignored his exasperated groan and pulled him out of the common room and back into the corridor, windowless and full of rats. He tried– and failed —to shake his wrist from her grip, and she led him out of the castle to an empty, grassy area just out of view of Hogwarts. Surely no one could see them here.