golden longings

XXI

***

Draco was relived to find that he was really entering an empty dorm.
He fell onto his bed, entirely drained.
For a moment he had started to feel paranoid about putting up protective charms daily, and then he didn't.
It was, in a way, reassuring to know that he had a reason. It reassured the knowledge that the majority of the students still despised him.

Then again, it seemed that Longbottom, of all people, had stopped the situation.
He'd have to thank him.
Draco grimaced his face at the mere thought. Thanking people was one of the things Draco Malfoy didn't do and, therefore, was rather terrible at.

They shared a dorm so he couldn't avoid it for lack of chances. He couldn't even avoid Longbottom.
Not for long at least. But for the moment.
Draco closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but the fact that he had clung onto a memory of Potter just minutes ago like a lifeline.
Of all the memories it had to he that one. The one that was uncomfortable to think about. Why?

Maybe, had he been in a better mood, he would have laughed at the irony of life. But he didn't.

Instead he tried to think of something else. Evasion was one of his favourite tactics. But nothing of relevance came to mind. No thought exiting enough to last in light of the giant problem in Draco's head: a memory of Harry Potter kept the panic out. The same panic Draco had never before been able to shut out. A memory of holding Harry's hand.

Out of habit he reached for the flask from his bag. Firewhiskey had never been much help in downing out thoughts, but it certainly wasn't for a lack of trying on Draco's part. It was another day and another try. Maybe, Draco thought, that it'd help that time.
It was the same thought he had every time he reached for that flask.

The liquid left a slight burning sensation in the back of his throat so he took another sip. The burning intensified. Not the desired effect but something to focus on. At least the Whiskey provided that.
So Draco focused on the burning in his throat, spreading slowly with each sip. It wasn't uncomfortable enough to be undesirable but not exactly comfortable either. Maybe because it didn't burn much or maybe because the feeling was so familiar.
Either way, Draco found that he quite enjoyed it. He'd never paid much attention to the feeling before.

Along with the burning the liquid spread a feeling of warmth, starting at Draco's throat but spreading all though his chest. Another familiar feeling and one that was quite comfortable.
He closed his eyes. And then he opened them again because a memory of Potter's fingers laced around his own flashed past them.

Draco really thought that his own mind was impossible. The audacity it had to remember those things so well.
When he tried closing his eyes again all he got was another image of Potter. And then he heard the sound of the door opening.
For a split second, Draco believed it to be part of the memory.

When he looked to check it wasnt. Neville Longbottom was standing in the door and walked in once he spotted Draco. While he was well aware that this was Neville's dorm just as much as it was his it still felt like an intrusion.
Even more so because instead of going towards his own bed he went to Draco's and sat next to him.
Entirely uninvited.

"Yes, do feel free to sit on my bed please. It is only my private space." Draco wanted to sneer but his voice was too raspy.
"What was that about?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
The only way to describe the look on Longbottom's face was exasperated. Possibly even rightfully so.
"You know I mean Seamus."
Draco couldn't help but sigh in just as much exasperation. Bloody Griffindors always had to stick their noses in everyone's business.

"I believe if I felt the need to talk about that I'd do so."
For lack of options of what to do with his hands, Draco took another sip of whiskey.
"Well that's what friends are for, talking." Longbottom stated in a very secure tone of voice that Draco found to be rather misleading.
And that wasn't even starting on what he'd just said. It took everything in Draco to restrain his urges to sneer, laugh and throw his arms around Longbottom, all at the same time.
Friends? Did Longbottom consider them to be friends?