golden longings

XXIII

***

Despite his interrupted sleep Draco woke up feeling well rested. He took a moment to appreciate the feeling, it wasn't one he felt too often.
He just blinked up at the top of his bed for a while, not making a move to get up.
When he finally did his mind had filled up with things he was really trying not to think about.

The issue was that his brain was full of them. And trying to avoid a thought became hard when the thought that followed was just as uncomfortable to consider.
He hoped that maybe a book would distract him, he his mind from bursting. Since no one else was up he quickly got dressed and headed towards the common room.

When Draco arrived at the end of the stairs he spotted Hermione sitting in front of the fire place already. While the fire was casting a warm light on her face her hair was glowing in the morning light, shining in through the large windows.
She rarely beat him there.
They exchanged their good mornings, which had grown a lot warmer over the time.
Draco pulled out his copy of the guide to advanced occlumency and tried to start reading.

The first page he got through easily. But the longer he kept reading, the less the words made sense.
He had no headspace left for the words. The longer he tried the more he failed. Draco simply sat there, staring down at the page in front of him blankly. Whenever he tried to decipher the words it felt as if they were running from him, blurring and dispersing in his sight.

He had lost track of how long he had  been staring at the same page, trying to catch the words. They kept escaping him.
His mind wandered off, further away from the book the longer it went on.
It was certainly possible that Potter had made a joke about Draco fancying him being a nightmare. But Draco didn't laugh. Because it could just as well have been the truth.

It made no sense that it even bothered him so much. It wasn't like he fancied Potter, right?
No, the comment was restricted to his looks, no need to project that even further, he internally corrected himself.
Potter did have a nicely toned upper body, Draco could see that. But that didn't have to mean anything, he was simply into blokes. He could objectively see when one was attractive, no reason to dwell on that.
The issue was that he kept dwelling on it. Because why would his chest sting so horribly at the thought that Potter could be repulsed by Draco's attraction.

Before he could overthink the concept of whether he felt any attraction towards Potter he was interrupted.
The noise of Hermione's book being slammed shut ripped him out of the thought. Draco jerked his head up, frantically checking the room before realizing what the sound had been.
"Alright, what's wrong?"
He looked over at her in confusion. The question threw him off, coming entirely out of nowhere.
"Why should anything be wrong?"

"Because-" she began before interrupting herself to muster him with an evaluating glance.
"You have not turned a page in fifteen minutes so your mind is obviously preoccupied."
Draco started down at the book in his lap in horror. Fifteen minutes he'd been staring at the same words without them making any sense. Maybe he was actually losing his mind.

"Oh, didn't realise." He mumbled down at his own lap. That was the truth, he had no track of time.
"Well I did. So do you want to tell me?"
She finished the question gently, nudging him to talk to her more than pushing. The words sounded warm and inviting. Her eyes had a hint of the genuine sorrow Draco only ever remembered seeing in his mother's eyes. It made Draco want to confide in her.

But he couldn't. For one, Pansy would be furious if he talked to someone instead of her about his problems. But more so becasue he was having a crisis over her best friend, which was not exactly something he was willing to tell her.
But she made it seem so easy to just open up, sitting there, looking so genuinely interested in his well-being. It made him wonder how different life would have been if he'd never bullied her, if he had seen that warm, welcoming side of her sooner.