REQUIREMENTS | DRACO MALFOY

29 | Potter Won't Save Her

Y/N

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"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Draco wheezed, storming down the library aisle, "what is this?"

Considering the fact that everyone (including Madam Pince) was still at the Yule Ball, the two of us had the entire library to ourselves. That meant that I could cuddle up next to Draco without the fear that someone would catch us, but it also meant that he could get up and roam around wildly, snooping around sections he usually never went.

I looked up from my book with confusion.

"What's going on?" I said, staring at the approaching boy in worry, "why are you scream—oh...wow—Draco are you crying?"

He ignored that observation, holding up a book in his hand. He slammed it down on the table in anger promptly after. I didn't get a clear look at the title, but I knew he got it from the Restricted Section.

The boy flung himself into my arms, almost toppling me out of my chair.

"Hold me," he commanded.

I glanced at our sprawled out embrace, "erm...darling, I already am."

"Tighter."

"Are you okay?"

"NO," the boy snapped, whipping his head to stare me in the eyes. He had red streaks running down his cheeks, and his face was pressed into an evident frown, "I am not okay!"

I blinked, "I can see that."

What is happening?

He let out a choke, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck. I could feel the dampness of his tears against my skin, his cheek pressing against my shoulder, and his hair tickling my ear.

I'd seen the boy cry once before (specifically after Millicent Bulstrode accused him of dyeing his hair blond), but that was only a few shed tears and some snarky remarks. This time he was weeping. My interest peaking, I clasped my arm tighter over his back as I leaned towards the table and picked up the book he had thrown down.

John Green | The Fault In Our Stars

Oh.

"Draco, did you read this?" I questioned, staring at the light blue cover with interest.

He sniffed, "maybe."

"There's a reason why they put this in the restricted section, you know?"

"Because it's a form of torture?" He scowled, his eyes watering, "because it rips your heart into pieces, and leaves you spinning in an endless void of uncertainty and self-blame, while you do nothing but curse the world for it's bloody imperfections?"

"Um...well, kind of," I nodded, "Wizards also have lower emotional thresholds than muggles do, and books like that are more likely to cause them more pain when they read."

"Books are torture."

"Yes, well, if you actually listened to me and read more, you'd be able to take the ending slightly better."

"I hate reading."

"Books are good for the soul."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't have a soul."

"Yes, you do."

"Well, I'm emotionally unavailable for the next twenty-four hours," he mumbled into my neck, "I need to be reminded that romance still exists, so just...hold me please."