Chapter 45
Chapter 45:
When the Quidditch coach came down with Black Cat Flu and Draco was asked to sub as a coach for the rest of the year he was thrilled, thought last minute, and with no chance to prepare, he was thrilled, a break in the ennui after all.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how the Slytherin would be a true test of his patience, his mercy, and overall his good and upstanding character. These kids were jerks, and a nuisance, and Draco regretted accepting the post within 30 minutes of being around them, he more than once wished he could hex the living daylights out of at least 5 of the players.
The morning was taking a turn for the worse when it actually took a turn for the depth of hell. Some fighting had started due to the seeker’s unchecked ego and as he made to break up the ensuing pandemonium Draco spotted her across the field. Had they been at the normal practice field he wouldn’t have seen her, he would have known, oh how he wished he was on the regular field. She looked like she was just coming back, and it took him all of 3 seconds to recognize the clothes as the same one he saw her in at the restaurant last night. Two plus two is always four and Draco knew what he was looking for right away, seconds before he occluded something very closely resembling rage filled him. He couldn’t look any longer as she stared him down, daring him to act. He forced himself to look away and unleashed himself on the players, for the rest of the morning he drilled them and drilled them until they puked from fatigue, and only then did he suspect practice.
But he couldn’t go back to his room, he had so many complicated thoughts and feelings, and letting loose of his occlusion would swarm them all in. Feeling like he was ready to combust he took the skies on one of the leftover brooms. He flew for at least an hour back and again but it did nothing to ease his angst. He wanted desperately to believe it had nothing to do with the whole Granger business but he knew the lie it was. He came back down, vanished the equipment off the field, and decided what he needed was to smash or slice something, he needed to burn off the steam in the room of requirement.
When he stood outside the room and the door didn’t appear right away, Draco’s rage became so strong it hung in the air about his head. HE NEEDED TO STAB SOMETHING. He waited and thought and pleaded with the castle until the door appeared but to his ire, it was locked. He grabbed the handle and yank and pulled and pushed and pounded on the door to no avail. His faculty of rational reasoning was gone and in the moment when the door wouldn’t open Draco felt himself become unhinged, fighting the door like his mortal enemy, in the middle of his rage fit he didn’t feel hear the ‘click’ of the lock no did he notice when it began to open ever so slightly until it was too late and in his latest assault he met the air and tumbled onto the ground rather than hit the wood floor.
These weren’t the floors she expected, there was plush carpet. The door had an opening to a different room than his? As his rage was replaced with confusion it was then that he heard her voice”
“MALFOY, WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Granger shouted at him, she looked horrified.
He sprang up from the ground in an instant not wanting to suffer another moment of humiliation in her presence, collected his cool, and found his voice to speak.
“The door wouldn’t open, what are you doing here?” he sounded anything but cool and collected.
Granger’s features changed in confusion and she stammered, actually stammered gesturing to the room around them, a cozy hybrid of a stained-glass cathedral and a library, so different yet so familiar to his room. “I’m using the room of requirement to read.”
His anger was not totally suppressed he was filled with amusement and questions,
“Isn’t that what libraries are for, Granger?”
“Oh never mind that, how did you even get the door to appear while I was using this room.”
That was an excellent question he pondered, “Oh, I actually haven’t a clue.