On a Grey Sky Morning

He hated days like today more than he hated Potter – and that was saying something.

When dark clouds would blanket the sky, he would seek shelter immediately – not to get out of the weather, but to just not see it anymore. He would grow irritable and moody, let his anger out on anyone who was dumb enough to get too close to him or rub him the wrong way. The bad, wet weather was usually a clear warning from Mother Nature to everyone: “Don't get next to Draco Malfoy.”

His green and silver Quidditch cloak fluttered behind him as he made his way back towards the school, leaving from the pitch where he had quickly canceled Slytherin's practice for the day when he took notice of the changing weather. It was met with much distaste, but once he snapped at them, telling them to shut their mouths or to leave the team, they accepted their sixth year captain's decision reluctantly.

It didn't matter to him if his team was upset at the sudden cancellation. All that mattered was getting inside and ignoring the damn clouds – ignoring his memories of her.

However, the sky could no longer hold the moisture, droplets soon free-falling from above as the weather took a turn for a worse, and ensuring Draco a hellish walk up to Hogwarts.

“Damn it all,” he growled, his feet now stomping instead of marching back up the pathway.

His feet carried him through the underground tunnels, the only light coming from his wand as he cast Lumos and from a few candlesticks that floated silently in the air. As he walked through the area, he could remember it and her so clearly.

“Draco,” her voice called.

“What is it, Blake?” He responded in his usual irritated tone. She was one of the few people he ever called by their first name, so even though he sounded like something had just crawled up his ass and died, she knew that his tone meant nothing.

“Don't you think it's nice down here?”

His eyes scanned the perimeter, taking in his surroundings. The tunnels were dark – completely pitch black if there wasn't a decent supply of lighting – and damp. Moisture clung to the rocky walls when it rained or was the tiniest bit humid, and if it wasn't either of those, there was always the small lake that sat off to the side, where a few unsuspecting first years would occasionally fall into if they weren't minding their footing (he and Blake tended to laugh at those who were unfortunate).

“I can't believe you're actually keen on a place like this,” the third year boy murmured disapprovingly.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” She huffed, sending a sideways glance to the platinum blonde boy.

“That apparently things you're keen on are complete rubbish.”

“Oh, really?” She questioned, walking up towards him with a spring in her step and a certain gleam in her bright eyes. His breath hitched in his throat as she stood before him and leaned up to meet his face, her lips placing a brief, light kiss upon his own and smirking when she saw she had left him in daze, whispering, “And just what does that make you then, Draco?”

The light faded from his wand as the charm was ended, Malfoy climbing up the pathway and out from the tunnels beneath. In his time wandering through the darkness below the surface, the rain had started coming down in full force, the droplets now twice their size and splattering about the grounds relentlessly. And as he continued on his way towards shelter, he could already feel the wetness seep through his layers of clothing even though only having been out for not even a few minutes.

The wind picked up and the rain grew more fierce. The remaining students who were trying to get out of the rainstorm around him were frantically running for the closest shelter – the West Tower's Owlery, and he would have been too if not for her being there in his memories as well.

The sky was a bright, clear blue, the faint sound of owls hooting from inside somehow putting them both at ease as they stood on the balcony above the grounds. Draco stood next to her, his Eagle-Owl sitting upon his forearm regally, it's orange eyes gazing at Blake with interest.

“Your owl looks like an asshole,” she commented. “Are you an asshole?”

The owl seemed to hoot, but in disapproval or not she would never really know. She went to touch the top of his head, Draco's eyes widening as he quickly told her, “He's gonna bite your bloody finger off!”

She stiffened as her finger was already near his beak, his eyes locking onto her digits with a concentrated gaze, however, he made no sudden move to attack her hand, and she silently let out a sigh of relief. Hesitantly, she continued her action – Draco sucking in a breath as he hoped the bloody owl wouldn't snap at her, and soon her fingers were gently caressing his soft feathers with the utmost care.

“Huh,” she mused softly, “I guess you're not an asshole after all, are you?”

The owl gave another hoot, and they could both only assume that it agreed before letting out a laugh that seemed to fluster and annoy the creature.

“He likes you better than me. The bloody thing barely lets me send mail back home.” Draco grumbled, glaring at the feathered animal with distaste.

It appeared to sense the anger its master held for him, and the owl turned to Malfoy heatedly, screeching loudly and making the fourth year jump in surprise. The owl floated calmly towards the balcony's railing, perching itself neatly on it and scooting closer towards Blake who welcomed it with more petting and coos of affection.

Draco growled, “Bloody bird! I'll have you sent right back to Eeylops Owl Emporium!”

The owl seemed to pick up the threat, glaring right back at its owner and sending one final, shrill screech to him, making him jump back from the owl who was now raising its wings defensively.

“Owl – one; Draco – none.” Blake could no longer hide her laughter as she gave more commentary, her boyfriend telling her to shut up before helping her do so with a forceful kiss.

He was now soaked to the bone, his blonde hair stringy and sticking to his face uncomfortably, with his lashes holding small droplets above his eyes that he assumed must have made it appear like he had been crying moments prior. He was borderline numb as the chill from the rain and the wind began to seep into his bones, his skin becoming more pale than usual as he kept pushing on through the weather.

Thankfully, now he was in the middle of the bridge that connected the grounds to the main courtyard. Soon he'd be out of the horrid climate and out of his drenched clothes, and soon he'd be in his dorm room and in his bed, forgetting all about her and occupying himself with something else to do.

But as he entered the courtyard, it happened again – and it hit him hard, his hands gripping onto his broom from Quidditch practice with a firm hold to try and keep himself level-headed.

The morning air was chilly and the sky a darkening grey; a bit unusual for June when the rainy season of April had already come and gone. However, it didn't matter much to Draco. It was nearing the end of the school year with only a few days left of his fifth year at Hogwarts, and he was on his way to see Blake after receiving a note through way of their friends passing it about.

When her figure came into view, he smirked to himself, approaching her silently and then striding up before her. “Blake,” he greeted, “what did you want to see me for?”

He took notice of a certain gleam in her eye almost immediately. Her usually bright eyes were dimmer than normal, her skin paler, and the air that surrounded her was thin, Draco soon finding it hard to breathe for some reason. As she looked to him, he realized something was definitely amiss when she didn't smile or greet him back.

“Blake?”

“Draco,” she began, “let's break up.”

Her words seemed to punch him in the gut as all the air in his lungs spilled out, his legs feeling like jelly as it took everything he had to remain standing and postured. “What?”

“Let's break up,” she repeated.

“Why?” He asked harshly. This was far from what he had been anticipating to hear from her. What had gotten into her?

“I just don't think I can be with you anymore.”

“That's crap, Blake. That's crap and you know it.” He growled, growing more upset with her explanation. After all they had been through and done together, what made her want to end their relationship? “What the hell are you thinking?”

“Draco... please don't. I don't want to fight over this. Let's just be over and done with it.” She pleaded.

“No. Tell me why, Blake.”

She sighed, looking down at the floor and away from his strong gaze. “I'm sorry, Draco, but... I'm not doing this with you,” she told him, beginning to walk past him, her final words to him keeping him frozen to the spot. “We're over.”

He jumped when he felt something wet hit him, his hand reaching for his cheek to check for what it was. It happened once, twice, three more times, and soon his brain registered that it was beginning to rain. The drizzle that first came down soon turned into a torrent of water, the rain gathering in the fabric of his clothes until they were drowned in rainwater.

Yet, for one reason or another, he couldn't bring himself to move from the spot he stood in, even as other students ran inside the castle to shield themselves from the downpour, yelling at their friends to hurry up.

He could only think of one thing: that couldn't have been what she wanted to tell him. He just couldn't believe it. They had been with each other for so long, known each other so well – he just knew it.

But even knowing that, he still couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the pain he was feeling in his heart. As he looked up at the grey morning sky, he felt more drops splatter across his face, and as they streamed down his cheeks, warm droplets mixed with cold ones, and Draco was thankful that it was now raining.

Beginning to approach the two main doors to the castle, he was finding himself to be mentally and emotionally drained. His memories of her – whenever they popped up – always took everything out of him.

“Malfoy!”

Hearing his named called, his brow furrowed, but he stopped nonetheless to turn around to see who it was that was calling out to him. Confusion was etched upon his face as Alex Swell, another Slytherin who just happened to be a close friend of Blake's, ran up to him, clothes drenched and her face red and blotchy from exerting herself on the run over.

“What do you want, Swell?” He spat. “This had better be good.”

“Blake and I were walking towards the Black Lake, but then it started to rain and...” As Alex carried on, her name struck a cord within him, Draco blanking for a bit before her last sentence snapped him out of it. “Blake fell down and she can't get up!” She panted out through the bit of air in her lungs.

He was worried, he couldn't deny that, but nevertheless he shook his head; he couldn't go to her – he wouldn't. He had enough pride (or maybe just a little too much) to go running to her aide. “Well then maybe you should be helping her up,” he glowered.

Alex glared at him, soon yelling, “I'm telling you because you're a prefect, you cock-up! Get your head out of your ass and stop thinking about your pride! Just because you two broke up at the end of last year doesn't mean you have to be such an asshole towards her.” She began to stomp off, muttering, “If you're not going to help, I'm just going to have to find another prefect who will.”

As she went off, he cursed himself and shook his head. “Wait,” he ordered firmly, stopping the girl in his tracks with his demanding tone of voice.

“What?” She snapped back.

“Go tell Madam Pomfrey what happened so she can get ready to treat her,” he said, walking over to her and placing his broomstick into her hands. “Then go drop this off at my room for me. You said Blake was by the Black Lake?”

“Yes.”

“I'll be back in a bit,” he grumbled, spinning around and walking back out into the rain.

It had taken everything he had to not go bolting off in the direction of where she was, but he still wasn't able to control it as he was slowly beginning to break out into a sprint, the sound of his panting breath being the only thing he could hear.

As he neared the lake, he stopped and looked around. “BLAKE!” He cried out.

There was no response, which didn't sit well with him, and Draco then darted off down the path, still yelling her name along the way.

He stopped a little further down again, and when he looked down over the edge of a small ledge, he saw here there – drenched and with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“Blake,” he sighed out softly, happy to have found her.

He hopped off the ledge and then carefully made his way down the steep incline towards the ground. “Blake,” he called out, stirring her and meeting her exhausted gaze.

“Draco...” she whispered.

“Blake, are you okay?” He questioned. “What happened?”

“I'm fine. The rain made the ground too muddy, I was too close to the edge, and I didn't notice my footing was off and took a tumble. If anything, I might have sprained my ankle because it hurts to put weight on it.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, beginning to distance himself as he came to know she was alright for the most part. “C'mon, let's get you to Pomfrey.”

He presented his back to her and she climbed onto it hesitantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, his hands grabbing her thighs securely as he gave her a piggyback ride towards the castle. An awkward silence enveloped them and Draco could feel the back of his neck tingle with slight delight as her hot breath lingered upon it.

“You know,” she began, “I don't think you've given me a piggyback ride like this since fourth year when we danced too long at the Yule Ball.”

Hearing her recall their past fondly didn't sit well with him. She had broken it off with him; why was she bringing something like this up right now? “Don't talk about that,” he ordered. “I don't want to hear you fondly recalling a relationship that you ended.”

She looked to him and hung her head. “Draco, I'm really sorry for what happened.”

“Don't be. I don't care about it anymore.”

“Oh,” her voice trailed off.

“That's all you have to say?” He scoffed. “Although I suppose that's better than that poor excuse of an explanation for why we broke up.”

Blake smiled; she knew it – he still cared. “My father was planning on being transferred to France, so since my family started to plan on leaving England, I was probably going to have to leave Hogwarts for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic at the start of this year. It happened so fast that I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice.”

“So you thought leaving me like nothing was the better decision,” he chastised.

“It wasn't nothing! Do you know how much I cried? And do you know how stupid I felt when my father ended up getting a different job in the Ministry?”

“Good,” he told her, “at least you know how stupid you were.”

“Draco, I never stopped thinking of you. When we got back to Hogwarts, you avoided me so I couldn't tell you anything. I thought that you hated me so I figured that I should just keep my distance.”

“How could I hate you?” He muttered under his breath.

“You can't,” Blake finished cheekily. “Just like I can't get over you.”

Draco stopped his walking, setting Blake carefully down onto a rock and turning around to look directly at her. He couldn't find any words to speak, but his body could find the actions to do as his knees knelt down to bring him to her level, his hands going to the back of her head and pulling her into him. For the first time in months, their chilled lips met and grew warm at the contact with one another. Their hot breath mixed together, and as they pulled apart, the rain let up, only a few drops of a calm drizzle bearing down upon them.

“How could I forget you,” he breathed out. “When you're the best I ever had.”

Blake gripped his shoulders, pulling him back once more for another kiss, and a once grey sky morning turned into the clearest heavens.