Chapter 5
The morning after, Draco woke up early. Theodore was barely stumbling out of bed, drooling into his pillow as he kicked at his blankets. Draco grimaced, knowing of how near the colder season was to come. Theodore always did have a rather ridiculous ability to withstand the cold. Whereas he and Blaise blistered in the halls, the teen could often be found yawning into his hand with barely any more layers over his uniform while he walked through the place like it was a normal afternoon and not teeth-shatteringly cold.
He and Blaise once made fun of him for it, calling him an ice queen which had them receiving a simple raised brow from the teen before mysteriously disappearing for a period of time. Nothing bad—Draco could even say they were rather close friends. He didn’t think anything of it, they made fun of each other plenty enough for boys their age.
But as one knows, keep your friends and your enemies closer. The sadistic bastard had done something to their watches that allowed a sort of learned behavior for them unconsciously, vibrating over their pulses to snap them awake or calm them at different times of the day, even going as far as into their sleep. For an entire two weeks, Blaise and Draco’s body clocks had become completely attuned to Theodore’s contraption to the point Draco fell asleep in the middle of a hallway and Blaise fell asleep and fell into the fountain (he didn’t remain asleep for too long, the cold water had him shivering and cursing at Theodore the entire way back to the dorm).
Suffice to say, Draco didn’t worry too much over Theodore’s sleeping habits, slipping on a sweater before sprawling himself on his chair, flipping through the books he’d brought over in his luggage. He sat without any care for his image, having long become familiar with Theodore and Blaise’s presence in the same living space. His hair was still messy with a bedhead, one of his legs bent to rest his feet on the corner of the seat.
Draco looked out to the start of dawn out the window. He still felt groggy, but he’d become rather used to his schedule. He found that starting his day early allowed him to do more in the day. And waking so early made sure that his nightmares wouldn’t last for too long, he didn’t want to stay up too late lest he’d act like a complete grouch in the morning.
Really, he couldn’t stand being woken by other people, and he didn’t want to terrorize an eleven-year-old Blaise or Theodore. He’d barely touched the extent of how being in this time could possibly affect his magic. The possibility of hurting them was a strain on his already bloody fears.
He’d looked into the practicality of how his magic could be affected, working out possible theories. His magic had become different. He could feel the change, the itch of his nerves flowing with an abundance that couldn’t be contained. It was a concentrated mass of what he could only call to be a mixture of his own magic thrown into the mess of his younger self. Simple spells were easy. Too easy. He’d written in his notes that perhaps the change of intent with his magic allowed it to flow better, like a stream that’s broken down enough of the stones to properly run through the dirt. As a child he’d been much hastier, but his mindset was different. Magic was a flow to him, a simple spell was easy, and it disturbed him.
As an eleven-year-old, Draco was always eager to challenge himself to more advanced spells, but his bases had been hastily made. Enough that it stumped him often. It didn’t show to others, of course. Draco could never stop himself from improving. He needed to adapt; to change and better himself regardless of everything. Because he was the Malfoy heir. His family was always under scrutinization. From the wizarding world itself and the followers of the Dark Lord evaluating their loyalty. If he’d ever allowed himself to fail—he would fall. That fear was once one that he was alleviated by the delusion that his family would be safe with the Dark Lord’s victory.
But that was not to be. And the weight of failure hung over him as his guillotine. A fate.
Draco rubbed at his temples, feeling another headache coming to pass. His head rolled to the back of his chair, a sigh that sounded too tired for his age passing his lips. He placed his attention back to the book in hand. He bought the book himself when he’d gone to France with his mother, building himself a regular schedule to return to one bookstore each time he visited. The sweet, older woman running the bookstore was always overjoyed to see him visit. Though Draco found it immensely embarrassing when she cooed at him and pinched his cheeks, she was never undermining of his capabilities, more than happy to always recommend any book he could be looking for.
Histoire de la magie. Practically a muggle book, really, but Draco found himself collecting different books pertaining to the concept of magic itself. They were entertaining, first off, but he knew that he needed to understand what magic was truly made of. Everything he’d ever been taught had always been spells rather than magic itself. And perhaps a part of him believed that it had been unnecessary. Magic is innate, it’s a privilege, a status of his pure blood. A sign that he would triumph above those below him.
Evidently, that wasn’t the truth of magic. And if Draco didn’t want to hurt himself, or worse, his roommates because he doesn’t understand the extent of what change happened to his magic in this time. His eyes scanned over the text, hand instinctively reaching over to his desk only to return with air. He frowned, a heated breath leaving him as he sagged down on the chair. He’d have to get some tea when he gets to breakfast later. He looked back to the book, squinting down and pushing the book a few more centimeters away from him.
By the time he’d finished a few chapters, it was just about time for Theodore to wake up. By order, most of the time, Theodore would be the one to wake up first in their dorm, with Blaise often being the last to wake (something about his beauty sleep that Draco found to be more dramatic than even him). Theodore hardly ever bothered to help Draco wake up after the first few times he hexed him for waking him early, so the responsibility naturally passed onto Blaise, who with his already late waking, only made Draco late in the first few weeks in Hogwarts. Not that he’d ever stopped being a complete grouch for every year.
Draco closed his book as he heard Theodore start to stir, yawning and stretching out in his bed. He rubbed his eyes, massaging the sleepiness away as he sat up. Theodore looked surprised at the sight of Draco awake, slipping out of his bed with not more than simply a curious look before digging through his things. Draco thought of it to be enough time, running a hand through his hair.
He fixed himself in the bathroom, taking a quick shower just before Theodore. When he returned, Blaise was still asleep, practically sprawled out on his sheets. Draco kicked at the leg of Blaise’s bed, rolling his eyes at the mumbled groan from the boy. He hooked his hand on the towel he’d thrown over his neck, pulling on Blaise’s blankets. Blaise started shivering despite the heating in the room, unable to completely disentangle himself from the sudden change of temperature in his dreams.
Draco rolled his eyes, “Zabini, get your arse out of bed else Filch’s cat finds its way into your bed.”
Blaise groaned, not bothered by the threat of Filch’s cat, curling into himself. Theodore raised a brow, having finished with his own shower. He buttoned up his shirt while Draco unsuccessfully tried to get Blaise to get up. The last time around, he’d woken up late with Blaise and Theodore looked like a defeated soldier with a hex on his hair. Draco wasn’t all too keen on repeating that again, not when he stuck to a rigid schedule when it came to his meals.
Theodore neared them, taking one of his pillows and fluffing it. He took it in hand, raising it. Draco blinked, and almost completely missed Theodore’s pillow from falling into Blaise’s face. “Nott.”
“If he loses enough air, he’ll just jolt awake.” Theodore’s voice was level, even hinting at oblivious confusion.
Draco sighed. Theodore’s always been a bit more particular than the sort, he’d hated it at first, but he was more than used to living with his attitude that he didn’t simply take the pillow and hit him with it. “Zabini’s just a dramatic prick. He’s not hopeless enough that you need to do that.”
Theodore paused with the pillow, nodding and throwing it off back to his bed. “Zabini. Wake up.”
By all signs of a miracle, Blaise finally woke up. Draco took up Blaise’s school robes and threw it at his face the second he tried to go back to sleep as if he wasn’t going to run late for the first day of classes. Blaise sputtered in surprise, sitting up and almost ready to throw down into a duel whereas Theodore looked confused.
Draco understood, shrugging as he turned his back to get his button-up. “That’s what you do when he becomes hopeless.” he ignored Blaise’s childish insults, yawning into his mouth as he fixed his tie.
“I am hopeless.” Theodore said, struggling with his tie in hand. He looked at Draco, the blank look in his eyes almost comforting for Draco to see. He saw that same blankness in his when he looked into the mirror, but with Theodore’s eyes, it was oddly different. The whites in his eyes showed with him looking straight ahead, an odd quirk to his eyes with how the white below his irises showed. Despite the blankness, Draco could read him easily. Something he couldn’t do with himself. Theodore’s eyes were almost creepy to other people, but Draco knew how expressive he could really be.
Draco went over to fix Theodore’s tie silently. “That word doesn’t mean the same thing as this. Just say you don’t know how to fix your tie.” Draco let him follow his hands, knowing Theodore would get the hang of it. Eventually.
Draco fixed Theodore’s tie before putting on his school robes. He scrutinized himself in the mirror, moving the collar a smidge before deeming it appropriate. He followed Theodore and Blaise out of the dormitory, checking on the lock beforehand. The Great Hall had more than enough people inside when they arrived, mostly first years with the ignited excitement to learn magic. Draco could see Pansy already seated, but he didn’t push for any conversation other than speaking to Blaise momentarily. He sat down with Theodore beside him as Blaise was more than happy to make conversation with another Slytherin student.
Finally able to have some tea in the morning, he calmed himself as he looked over his head his plans for the day. It truly would be a shame now that he won’t be able to accompany his mother on her trips. Hopefully she would still pursue her love for traveling despite his absence to encourage her. He knew how much it meant to her.
He went to retrieve his class schedule to be given right after breakfast. He looked over it, humming. He stood by the entrance to the Grand Hall, knowing that the others would probably find some trouble finding their way around the castle for their first day. Blaise had just finished charming some older Slytherin student before smiling and running off to follow Draco, leaning closer to him with his smile still as charming as ever.
“What’s the first class?” Blaise tried to peek over Draco’s shoulder, pushing on Draco’s arm but Draco just grumbled and shrugged him away with his elbow.
“Sod off, get your own schedule.” Draco said, getting a pen from his robe pocket.
Blaise rolled his eyes, “We probably have the same schedule, don’t be stingy.”
Draco relented, passing along the schedule he’d gotten. The classes in Hogwarts cycled at a different schedule for each house, but they would still be able to find themselves in a class with other houses at times. And for the morning…
“Ravenclaw?” Blaise contemplated for a moment, still in tandem with Draco’s navigating steps as Theodore followed them without any intention of going out of his way to speak. “Do you have a charms book?”
“Of course, I have one.” Draco frowns, “Did you leave yours?”
Blaise shrugged, “I might’ve. Might’ve not—just wanted to see if you’d be rebellious.”
“I don’t equate rebelliousness to stupidity.” Draco said.
“He left it behind.” Theodore intercepted, carrying his own books.
Draco sighed, “Just share mine. You’re rather lucky we won’t need the book too much for the first day.”
Theodore followed them inside the Charms classroom, watching Professor Flitwick busy himself with his class materials. Not many students were in class yet, and Draco didn’t mind it at all, yawning as he sat down on the seat close by. Usually, most students would struggle with the layout of the castle their first year around, so Professor Flitwick didn’t hold much of a worry to the lack of students present for the moment, as they’d find their way inside sooner or later.
Draco read through his charms book, scratching at his brain to remember what spell he needed before passing the book over to Blaise. Draco raised a brow, looking to his left to Theodore looking around. His nose was scrunched, tapping gently on the desk as a bag was thrown on the desk. Long, dirty blond hair fell over by Theodore’s side, seating someone familiar.
Draco cursed underneath his breath, feeling difficult. Luna Lovegood. He felt his breath hitch, his lungs filling with an abundance of air that shouldn’t be there. He picked at his desk, biting at his lip all the while everything around him transpired itself in a pendulum of time that made him feel as if he were stuck within the breaches of a time turner, the ringing of each tick in his ears as time suddenly became his looming enemy, clicking at him and mocking him with the way it slowed.
Students filtered in, but Draco still felt everything within him wringing itself into rags. Blaise seemed to have gotten tired of reading, paying attention to Professor Flitwick giving an introduction to Charms that he simply couldn’t bring himself to listen to with the way the sound suddenly seemed to garble itself and cough itself into one of Filch’s cat’s hairballs. He sighed, his breath cold as Professor Flitwick’s lesson turned to a hands-on-activity of using a spell on a single feather.
Draco tried to place his attention on the task at hand, raising his wand to utter the spell as all the others around him gave their own bleak attempts. But he couldn’t bring himself to focus on his own spell, his head filled with the sight of Luna curled up on the floor of the dungeons. Her eyes lighting up when she would be able to sense him coming, moving out of her crouched position to meet him by the bars of her small cell.
Her eyes never held contempt, Merlin, he could barely ever comprehend the way her eyes always looked so far off. All he could understand was the way she actually looked forward to seeing him, even more than simply the fact that he would give her food. She would always have him comfortable by the other end of her cell, articulating strange tales of creatures Draco hardly believed existed, but tales he’d listen to regardless. He would, like a fool, sit down next to the strange girl talk as he would pass her food in the cell under his own family’s estate.
She would greet him, weakly, each time, but never with any pleas for him to allow her to leave. She treated him—as a friend. She would smile when he asked her why she never complained of her cell, simply saying that she trusted her friends. And Draco’s heart hurt at the thought of it. Because it was true, Luna’s friends would never abandon her, yet he sat next to her as her proclaimed friend allowing her to rot under his loyalty’s incarceration.
Draco breathed, regaining his hold over his wand. He breathed in the scent of Blaise’s atrocious soap (really, Blaise’s soap was just too florally-scented for him in their earlier years). He focused on the feather in front of him, uttering out a “Wingardium Leviosa” that failed by his third incantation. He sat back, breathing in deeply to stave off the breaking nerve in his lungs.
Theodore managed to cast the spell, while Blaise looked over the book again to reread the spell. And Luna… Luna was singing with a voice just barely above a whisper. Though with the voices of all the other students, he doubted she could be heard anyway.
Luna softly sang, a smile blooming on her face when the last incantation worked for the feather to fly up by itself. Theodore blinked owlishly at the feather, turning to Luna.
“You cast spells that way? How do you do that?” Theodore asked, the way he leaned closer to Luna betraying the way his voice remained level.
Luna smiled Theodore’s way, and Draco could feel his heart clench. She looked so youthful, so healthy compared to the gaunt sight that left her in that cell. “I felt it would help.” Her voice held that dreamy tone, slightly breathy in a way that made Luna so discernible from everyone else.
Theodore nodded, not quite daring to the same, but interested, nonetheless. He looked at the feather levitating above them, moving gently like an awry of notes. Draco breathed, focusing back on his own feather. He managed to cast his spell, moving to help Blaise with his before the class ended.
They had a short break in between classes, just fifteen minutes to allow students to stave off their fatigue and to find their next class. Draco took his book while all the other students rushed out, knowing they’d have to navigate the castle once again to find their next class. Little was left behind as Professor Flitwick fixed his class materials, smiling kindly their way.
Draco stood up with Blaise as Theodore remained seated speaking to Luna. Luna entertained him as he did her, despite the way Theodore was rattling off with a rejuvenated voice about some magical creature that Draco couldn’t catch. Luna noticed the time, standing with her bag as she held out her hand for Theodore.
“It was nice to speak to you, I’m Luna. Luna Lovegood.” Luna’s hand was received with a momentary fascination from Theodore as he stood.
“I’m Theodore Nott.” Theodore smiled. And Draco could tell the boy was exuding happiness despite his eyes remaining blank. He smiled helplessly, patting Theodore’s shoulder to quietly tell him they’ll go. “Lovegood… is that from the Quibbler?”
Luna nodded, “My father is the editor.”
“Is he? I enjoyed the issue published a few weeks ago. About one of the constellations…?”
“Gemini?” Luna looked eager to continue their discussion, derailing Draco’s need to get them out of there.
Draco couldn’t bring himself to look at Luna at that moment, lest he’d remember all that had transpired to allow her to suffer under his parents’ roof, but he could appreciate someone being so eager to listen to Theodore. Merlin knows the boy can talk when a slightest suggestion towards his love for magical creatures was mentioned.
“Yes.” Theodore said, “About the theory of their origin, from that ancient Greek story of it, and—”
“Nott, we still have class.” Draco interrupted, nudging at Theodore’s books.
“Are they your friends?” Luna tilted her head.
Blaise was quick to catch onto a potential conversation, hogging Draco’s shoulder. He quickly earned Draco’s ire as the blond pushed on his neck, but he continued unbothered. “I’m Blaise—” Blaise swatted Draco’s hand, “This grouch here is Draco.”
“Zabini, I am going to hex you into a toad, stop pushing me.” Draco grumbled, making no real attempts to push away Blaise other than keeping him a bit far from his face.
Blaise rolled his eyes, “Don’t mind him, he gets grumpy in the morning.” Draco sighed, wistfully wishing Blaise had forgotten his attitude in the morning at least in the span of the year that he hadn’t spoken to him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Luna looked far-off as she stared at Draco, “You’ve got a lot of Wrackspurts running around your head, Draco.”
Draco flinched, pausing from pushing off Blaise. He frowned. “No, I don’t. That’s ridiculous.”
“Really? I find that taking a walk helps to clear them out.” Luna supplied, smiling as if Blaise wasn’t looking at her oddly.
“I don’t have time for that.” Draco murmured, taking Theodore and Blaise out of the classroom. “We’re leaving. I’m not allowing you gits to make us late for Herbology.”
Theodore looked disappointed as he waved his goodbye to Luna, who looked barely affected by Draco’s attitude. Draco didn’t bother, wishing to pace himself. They arrived at the greenhouse, and he still felt queasy at the reminder of Luna.
“She’s a real odd girl, isn’t she?” Theodore said, but his eyes merely blinked. There wasn’t any of that same discomfort that people would have at the thought of Luna in his eyes.
“Bit of a loony, really.” Blaise laughed, whispering. “Loony Lovegood. It has a charm to it.”
“Don’t call her that, Zabini.” Draco sighed, “It’s unbecoming—childish, really.”
Theodore nodded minutely, taking out a quill to note down the class. Draco ignored Blaise’s attempts at having him join to that little nickname, adhering his attention to the class. It was a standard order with Professor Sprout giving a short introduction to the subject before allowing the students to explore the available magical plants at a safe distance.
Draco knew how people saw Luna, even though his own circle never encountered hers, people talked. Loony Lovegood barely scratched the surface of the way people called her, and he had no plans of joining it this time around. He didn’t know how he wanted to go along with Hogwarts, but the least he could do for her was avoiding bringing her any anguish. She was odd, to a point that he nearly never understood her when he would listen to her, but it wasn’t something he could bring against her.
Theodore looked troubled for the rest of the day, but Draco didn’t bother with asking him. He allowed the boy to stew in his own thoughts, and the next few days, Theodore came and went from the library, hiding something under his pillow after Draco and Blaise would finish bathing to get ready for bed.
Draco had enough of it, nudging Theodore to sit on his bed while he sat near his desk. Blaise watched them, biting into an apple in his hand. Draco sighed, “Nott, you’ve been hiding something under your pillow. What is it?”
Theodore blinked, taking the papers from his pillow without any hesitance. He handed it over to Draco, to which Draco sighed at, passing along the papers to Blaise’s non-apple-holding hand. “Quibber?” Blaise said through munching his apple. He raised the torn-out pages, showing the clear title.
Theodore nodded, “I got curious.” he paused, finally a sense of hesitance in his voice appeared. “I, well, I heard about what people were saying about Lovegood.”
“So, you decided to look up her father’s works because…?” Draco asked, moving to read the article with Blaise. He frowned at Blaise still continuing to eat, pinching him to eat quicker and get rid of the apple.
Theodore shrugged, “I don’t know.”
“Did you look for these because of Lovegood or you wanted to know about the Quibbler?” Draco supplied, having Blaise throw away the apple into a bin.
“A bit of both.” Theodore contemplated, “The Ravenclaws were talking about how Lovegood talks weird. I thought…” he paused at that, lips twisted to a frown.
“Actually, I don’t quite understand. They spoke of her talking weird, and… knowing weird things, but I…” Theodore struggled, snatching back the Quibbler papers from Blaise’s hands.
Draco sighed, “You were talking pleasantly with her the last time, so you can’t understand why people are saying she talks weird.”
“That. Yes.” Theodore smiled, “Lovegood is very pleasant to speak to. Her knowledge of magical creatures is… it’s extraordinary. It’s extensive and she describes them in a way that seems so suited for them. It’s odd, but her words embody their existence. She speaks it into existence. And the horses. The black horses, she knows what they are—she called them Thestrals. I, I don’t know if I can affirm their existence to be named that, but she knows what they look like.”
Blaise frowns, unable to catch up. “What? Black horses?”
Draco remembered Theodore talking about them once, but he and Blaise didn’t believe him. After all, neither of them had ever seen anything like horses pull the carriage before, a mutual understanding of not questioning it to be left behind when Theodore insisted that he could see something there.
Draco nudged Blaise, “They’re Thestrals.”
“Fine. Thestrals. What are they?”
“It’s what pulls the carriages.” Blaise now looked even more confused, looking back between Draco and Theodore as if the two were crazy.
Draco massaged his temple. He really didn’t want to be dragged along by the crazy that was Luna Lovegood, but he understood how Theodore was feeling and invalidating what he believed in now would simply have him be pushed away. “Neither of us can see them, you git.”
“What, is that a special thing now?” Blaise huffed, “Look, I don’t know what you were doing in the past year, but that’s ludicrous. Nothing pulls those carriages. They move on their own—”
“You can only see them if you’ve witnessed death.” Theodore intercepted and Blaise looked mute. His frown softened, looking more seriously at Theodore.
Both he and Draco knew that Theodore saw his mother die, though how exactly, they never pushed to ask. He was more recluse than the other pureblood children, with his father often than not simply dumping him off to any or one of their little excursions that would have Theodore be abandoned until the next day when his father would just belatedly pick him up due to some important out of the country matters that he never spoke of.
“So, you think Lovegood…?” Blaise said, looking back at the Quibbler in Theodore’s hand.
Theodore shifted, looking blankly at the Quibbler articles. “Pandora Lovegood died a few years ago.”
“Oh.” Blaise said stupidly. Draco nudged him harshly, sneering. “Sorry.”
“Apologies aren’t required.” Theodore said, “I wanted to… I wanted to know. My father would call me crazy when I’d describe them and the way that the other students would refer to Lovegood for what she knew... I would be called as crazy as her if I spoke of them.”
“What do you want to do with what you know?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know.”
Draco nodded, taking the Quibbler articles and placing them on Theodore’s desk. “You can continue thinking of it another time. We have class tomorrow. She’ll be around.”
“Yeah.” Blaise affirmed, nodding resolutely. “We have a class with Ravenclaw in the afternoon.”
Theodore nodded, looking down at his pants. “Thanks.”
Blaise ruffled Theodore’s hair, earning a small smile from Theodore. Draco shook his head, smiling to himself. Theodore would have a growth spurt by the third year, he was even taller than him before Blaise completely overtook both of them in height. Though for now, with the added height from Draco’s time in the past year, he was the tallest of the trio for now.
Blaise messed with Theodore for a little while before Draco had them all to sleep.
The next morning, Draco yawned into his hand, having finished with the morning classes for the day and earning a free period right before lunch would come around. He leaned against a pillar, sitting to allow his head to rest against it. It was a part of the open in the castle, some wind rifling through his hair as he breathed. Blaise rushed off with Theodore despite Theodore’s reluctance, insisting that they would find Lovegood now while they could so they would eat lunch together.
Blaise had never been as high-strung as them when it came to their superiority as pure-bloods. Draco knew he lived in Italy for a period of time because of his mother’s endeavors before settling down in Britain with the vast riches she’d accumulated. He sought connections and was even rather promiscuous for a period of time. He never cared even when the person he “acquainted“ with was a muggle or a half-blood, it all ended the same with him breaking their hearts.
Theodore saw it to be useless, but he never intervened when Blaise would set his sights on someone. Draco didn’t care much for it either, far too embroiled into his own troubles. Only rule they agreed on was that Blaise was banned from bringing them back to the dorm.
Suffice to say, Draco wasn’t too surprised with Blaise’s insistence to attempt a friendship with Luna. Though, they both knew inwardly it really was just to appease and make Theodore happy. They both truly cared for the boy in their own ways. Theodore’s blank disposition had people commonly see him to be cold, even earning a reputation of being mysterious and emotionless by their later years. But living together with him had both knowing better, and even Draco would often look past his own ego for Theodore’s sake.
He would make sure they understood him better this time around. Even if it meant Draco had to look at Luna and remember the way her gashed hand held his in thanks, he would allow Theodore to feel happy for someone returning his interests.
He opened his eyes, blinking. He frowned, knowing someone was watching him. He looked wearily over the halls, finding no one. Hopping off the connection to the pillar where he’d been finding some peace, he still couldn’t find anyone. He moved to walk, but a hand grasped at his elbow.
He looked back, calming at the sight of Blaise. “Draco, come, come! Hurry.”
Draco followed, ignoring what might’ve been there and focusing on the frantic urging. He followed Blaise out to a large tree nearby, his face blanking as he looked back at Luna standing with Theodore right by the roots, looking above to the leaves. He pried off Blaise’s fingers, his brows furrowed.
“Climb up!” Blaise insisted, pushing him to the tree.
“What.” Draco’s voice hardened, his arm giving some distance from him and the damn tree. “Bloody—what!? Climb? No way!”
“Aw, please? Some cheeky gits from the second year thought it was funny to hex Lovegood’s shoes up to hang by a branch.” Blaise pointed at the said hanging shoes and Draco scowled.
“What’s that got to do with me?”
Blaise rolled his eyes as if it was obvious. “You’re the tallest of us. Even if I climbed up there, I wouldn’t be able to reach it.”
Draco frowned, looking over to Luna. “It’s really no trouble. All in good fun.” She waved it off, smiling without a care. Whereas Theodore looked positively pissed at the sight of Luna’s shoes hanging. It was still far too early into the year, and none of them knew any proper spells to get the bloody thing off there.
Draco frowned, taking off his robes and rolling up his sleeves. “Bloody hell.” He sighed, looking over where he could place his feet before outstretching his hand to climb up. He grasped the wood under his palms, ignoring the repeating thought that splinters would enter him. He climbed up, reaching up to a good distance above before finally hanging onto a large trunk. He made sure his feet were properly situated, reaching up with an ache to his waist.
Well, yes. Perhaps his height helped with the length of his arm allowing him to grasp the strings to Luna’s shoes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry at the fact he had to do something so menial.
He tied the laces of the shoes to his belt hoop, struggling for a moment because he could only use one hand. He moved down, finding it much easier as he simply jumped down at the last climb. He handed the shoes over to Luna, breathing a sigh of relief.
“There.” Draco said, “Don’t let them keep hexing your things.”
“Thank you, Draco.” Luna thanked him, and Draco could feel it all come back again. He dug his nails into his arm as he wore his robes again.
“It’s nothing to thank for.” Draco managed through gritted teeth.
“See, he’s not half-bad, yeah?” Blaise laughed, patting Draco on the back.
Draco scowled, “What have you been speaking of me behind my back?”
“All good things, don’t be a sourpuss.” Blaise rolled his eyes, smiling at Luna. “Do you want to spend lunch with us?”
Theodore nodded, wringing his hand in eagerness. He helped Luna untangle the laces of her shoes.
“I would find that quite nice.” Luna said.
Draco looked at them, and a part of him acquiesced to whatever this could be. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as Blaise started to make conversation with Luna. They moved to stone seating to allow Luna a moment to wear her shoes, knowing that Draco would follow them.
Draco looked back to the halls he’d been sitting in just a moment ago, his eyes narrowing. He could’ve sworn someone was there. He looked back, seeing a billowing robe in the turn of the halls.
He pursed his lips, choosing to forget it as he made his way to the three still eagerly speaking. He smiled to himself, just watching over them. A pang of something he couldn’t accurately describe gnawed at him—after all those years, and after all that hardship. Draco was in a time where they could simply be children.