Say You Like Me

It's at night when I feel the most like myself, when I feel all the pain and all the love in the world. It's at night when the memories come rushing to me and I'm completely calm as the chaos surrounds my form.

Hogwarts was always a great place for me. I spent most my time there attached at the hips with Claire and Tristan, my best friends, even most of our classes had been together. It wasn't until our sixth year that every went wrong. Claire's mother had gotten killed by one of Voldemort's devotee and she was later pulled out of school. Last I heard, she had become part of some sort of cavalry against Voldemort. Tristan was pulled out by December, as well, in fear that she will be harassed for her blood ties to Voldemort's Army.

So I was all alone, in a school divided into two, those against Voldemort, and those for him. I couldn't say which side I was on, in fear of losing my family or losing my morals. I had lost my light, like many had, and I had become a recluse. I had spent many nights awake and many afternoons sleeping, or more like a coma. During the nights I usually floated around, until around midnight when I would head up to the Astronomy tower and read large books that I had taken from the library. In the middle of February was when I had walked into the tower and spotted a dark form leaning against the rails. I was going to back out and hope I hadn't been seen, but my book had hit a rail and fallen to the wooden floors with a loud smack. The figure turned around and I was shocked to see Draco there.

In the half year that we had been back to Hogwarts I had barely seen him out of the dining hall and class. And those he managed to not show up to quite a few times. His face seemed to have aged more than just a few years, and his platinum hair was unkempt. His eyes barely seemed to make it to mine, they seemed to hold so much anger in them that I almost just turned around and ran away.

He had asked why I was there, and I only whispered that I couldn't sleep. He nodded towards the book and said I could stay and read, and he'd leave. I told him he could stay, he didn't.

I saw him again the next night this time he stayed for about thirty five minutes, then he just walked away slowly, and quietly. This went on for a week until he finally spoke to me and we sat next to each other. It was as though we had become friends. We even laughed a few times. By the end of February we had gotten close enough to hold hands, at least in the Astronomy tower.

I remember one night in particular. When he seemed to be more on edge than usual, and I grabbed his arm as he was walking away and he quickly pulled it back, almost as if I had burned him, at the time I hadn't thought much of it. I asked him what had happened, he only spoke in erratic, short sentences, none of which made sense. I had no idea how to stop him, and with each passing second of him speaking in tongues he seemed to be ripping at the seams. So I pulled him close and low and kissed him. A long, simple kiss. The kind you give to your childhood crush when you realize it might be the only way to save him from himself.

It stops there, because after that I tell him I have to leave, and he stays behind. I only remember the next few days after that.