Draco's Hufflepuff | Diminishing

Four: Strangers

**

Monday, 1st September, 1997

I had been wide awake since 3:00am. My stomach was grinding and churning with nerves and excitement. I felt sick. The gnawing and continual anxiety of knowing I was seeing him again was getting too much to bear.

How was he going to react when he saw me? Has Draco been just as eager and nervous to see me too?

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, and the last tiny strand of hope I had left in me, but I couldn't shake off this feeling and idea as to why Draco hadn't written back to me. I think his parent's had put on some sort of charm to make it impossible to send any mail to my address. Or maybe they had banned him from using the owl, or any parchment and quill.

As I turned onto my side, I took a deep breath and tried to calm down my now racing heart. My eyes were heavy, and they felt as though they had tiny pieces of glass in them. I was so tired, but any time I attempted to fall back asleep, I would stupidly wake myself up.

The best-case scenario would be for Draco to draw me into his arms, kiss me until he took all the air out of my lungs, and apologise profusely for not writing me. But I had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't going to happen.

**

Mum had made me raspberry jam on toast and a cup of tea for breakfast, and I was nibbling my way through. She wanted to cook me up something more substantial, like a fry-up, but the thought of consuming anything greasy made my stomach turn even more.

Dad had taken the day off especially so he could drive me up to King's Cross. He and mum were whispering in the kitchen, clutching a cup of coffee each. I could tell they were talking about me, but I didn't let them know that I had figured that out.

My knee was bouncing up and down and with each mouthful of toast I swallowed down, I felt the nausea get stronger, and the knot that was forming in the pit of my stomach was getting larger and tighter.

We were going to be meeting Hannah and her parent's just outside of King's Cross, and I couldn't be more relieved of not having to go onto the platform by myself. Even though I had been an awful friend to Hannah over our summer holidays, I hoped she understood it was in no way personal.

I was wearing a very simple pink floral blouse and Muggle denims. I did, however, style my hair for the first time in a very long time. Not only was it clean, but I had put in soft waves, which was a lot, considering for the past few months, my hair had been in the same disgusting bun shoved roughly on the top of my head.

As I picked small bits off my toast, my stomach rolled as I imagined Draco dressed in his all-black three-piece suit. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while – desire. No matter what's happened between us, I could confidently say he always looks spectacular.

I then got to thinking of Patrick of all people. Our kiss in the Hufflepuff common room started floating around in my head and my cheeks flushed, embarrassed at the thought of kissing someone. It was stupid, I know, due to the amount of times I've had sex with Draco.

I've been meaning to ask my dad if he's seen Patrick at all in the Ministry, or if he knew what department he had been interning in. I couldn't help but wonder why he never wrote to me either.

It had never occurred to me until that very moment, but he promised he would write this summer, but he never did. I couldn't blame him, of course, he did profess his love to me, which was unrequited and rejected. It was selfish and cruel of me to assume he would still want anything to do with me, but that didn't stop it from stinging.