Draco's Hufflepuff | Emerging

Twenty-Six: Anguish

**

Saturday, 23rd November, 1996

When I woke up, I was hoping that yesterday was just a really bad dream and it never happened. But as I struggled opening my eyes, I knew instantly it was all very much real.

My eyelids felt like they had been replaced with sandpaper, my throat felt like I had swallowed razor blades, and my bones ached deep within. I was still alone. All the girls had made plans to go into Hogsmeade for the day, and it's not as if anyone else would wanted to be with me.

They'd arranged it all pre-everyone-finding-out-the-truth, and I declined because I was supposed to be spending the day with Draco. We were going to be sitting in the Prefects common room together. Even if I had said I would go initially, I assume they would have just gone without me.

As I looked around our dorm room, it was though it was filled with the ghosts of what was supposed to be and what was. I tucked my duvet underneath my chin, my stomach lurching as I thought back to yesterday.

When I woke up yesterday morning with that strange knot in the pit of my stomach, I knew something bad was going to happen, but I never, ever, would have predicted that. I couldn't help but wonder why Seamus had chosen then of all times to expose us, and how long had he actually known.

**

I was still laid in bed hours later; lunch had passed and the sky outside was dark grey and miserable. I couldn't help but wonder what Draco was doing and how he was feeling. Was he feeling any of the repercussions of us being revealed?

I got to thinking about everything we had ever been through together. I used to think our journey was beautiful and incredible, but now it was all tainted. As though dirt and grime had been smeared all over it.

None of it was real. Had I really misread every single interaction? Maybe I did paint this perfect picture in my head because I had wanted him so badly. It was just going round and round in my head... every kiss, every touch, every sweet word... everything.

I could picture him in my head, bragging about it to anyone who would listen. Maybe even comparing me and making notes on other girls. He was probably laughing about me.

I tried to argue with myself that my Draco wouldn't do that. He would do anything he could to protect me and make it all better. He'd draw me into his arms and kiss my head. He would make it okay again. He would reassure me that we could get through this together. He would tell anyone who was taking the piss out of us to "fuck off."

But he wasn't my Draco anymore. He probably never was to begin with.

**

I finally mustered up the courage to peel myself out of my duvet and go downstairs. I threw on some black leggings and a burgundy cable-knit jumper. I messily re-tied my hair back into a simple braid, not particularly caring what I looked like. It's not as though I had a reason to look put together anymore.

As soon as I reached the end of the staircase, I peered round the corner, to see who was sitting in the common room. There wasn't many students thankfully – a group of three seventh years, two fifth years, and a group of four second years.

I had all intentions of sitting on the sofa and reading by the fireplace. But once I got there, I just couldn't. When I gingerly walked through the main area of the common room and saw all their eyes fall on me, I was taken straight back to Defence Against the Dark Arts yesterday. Their stunned expressions and quiet whispers.

Don't look.

Don't look.

Just keep going.