golden longings

XVII

***

Despite some irritated looks and a few whispers, Draco left the cozy common room for the colder hallway.
If he couldn't stop thinking at all, maybe he should be trying at solving the issue. And that was exactly what he would be doing. Maybe just figure Potter out and everything would be better. Normal.

If he considered it, all in all, Potter was in a way the root of all of Draco's problems. Except maybe his family situation. But besides that, everything related back to Potter. So maybe he would be able to just solve it all though Potter.
He was aware how naive it was for him to think that resolving his issues with a single boy could possibly redeem him in a world that despised him. But for a second, the thought was comforting.

With large, fast steps he walked back the exact same way that he had just come from. Only that it didn't take half as long. He had banned all thought, before he could question his decision of going back, and just focused on walking. The sound of his feet on the ground distracting him from everything he could have been thinking about.

He had not yet thought about what he was going to say to Potter. He had no plan prepared, something very atypical for Draco Malfoy. Usually every step he took was calculated and well thought out. A measure thay was necessary when he had to be aware of his surroundings and his effect on the at all times. But this time it was almost like he had lost his head. Not even for the first time that day. What an odd coincidence. What could be distracting him so much that he basically put himself at risk?

He wasn't quite sure what the risk was but it felt like there was one. His stomach was feeling weird, almost as if he was slightly sick. And he was tense. Probably because he knew better than what he was doing.
Hopefully Potter would just be gone and he could save himself the embarrassment of showing back up. It was not like a Malfoy to be the one to come back after a fight. But Draco didn't turn around either. He only mentally cursed himself for not doing so when he reached the strairs to the astronomy tower.

He had set his mind on climbing up the tower so that's what he was doing. No going back. As unsure as he felt about his mission, or what his goal in this was at all, he didn't like quitting. So he just climbed up all the stairs until he could feel the cold night breeze hitting him, indicating that he had almost made it to the top. And foreshadowing how cool the late summer night really was.
He could already see the top of the stairs and stopped for a moment.

He gulped uncomfortably. What even was he doing this for? Draco didn't even have any idea what he was hoping to get from this. Was there even a possibly positive outcome to talking to Potter? Probably not.
But he continued to climb the stairs anyway because he knew, if he didn't go up in that moment, he would never go though with it.

Only just before Draco had reached the top he renewed a few of his protective charms. Almost like some kind of reassurance. And maybe just in case. He really had no idea if this was going to go well. But he rather assumed the worst.
Worst case scenario, a confrontation would go down like their encounter in the bathroom in sixth year. Or like their encounter recently at the bottom of the tower. Either way, Daco was not metal prepared for it. But he was unable to admit to that fact.

When he stepped out into the night a chilly breeze hit the exposed skin on his face, neck and hands. It had gotten entirely dark.
It took a moment for him to adjust to the new lighting and temperature conditions. Maybe Potter was already gone. Probably.
Just a second after that thought crossed his mind, he spotted the blurry scheme of the dark figure, sitting at the edge of the tower.

And all of a sudden, Draco had no idea what to do. He horribly regretted his decision to come back. But Potter had already turned his head, so no going back either.
"What do you want."
The question sounded plain and reminded Draco more of a statement.
He had some difficulties figuring out what to say. And proceeding to a tually form words. Finally, he quietly stammered something along the lines of "came back to talk."