VI

Hether walked quickly, cursing under her breath. She'd blended in alright, and then suddenly blew her cover back there. Why didn't she just let the Grega girl die? Pansy would have gotten expelled for sure, and that would have made things easier for her. She smacked herself thrice on the forehead. You silly, silly child. Now, she was definitely going to get it.

As she bound up the steps of the astronomy tower, she thought deeper and scolded herself. Why didn't she just refuse the duel and let people think she was a dirty coward? None of this would have happened, but she would never earn Draco's respect. And all this two nights before the Christmas Ball! Hether let out a loud groan.

She reached the top of the Astronomy Tower and headed straight for the ramparts, gripping the railings tightly. She wasn't about to vault herself over the edge – she wouldn't die anyway – she just needed to think where she knew no one would think of looking for her.

She could wipe everyone's memories and just obliviate the duel away, but Pansy would only just find a way to wind her up again. Or she could mysteriously disappear and reappear as a new Hufflepuff student, but her traits would make that such a scandalous affair. Or she could just leave altogether and let the world fall to shambles, but that would defeat the whole purpose of her being here. Or she could just kill them all off and close this reality for good. That seemed more practical and viable.

"HETHER!"

She whipped out her wand on instinct and pointed it at the intruder. She might as well start killing them with this one first.

"Whoa!! It's just me, Draco."

Hether blinked, her vision clearing. It was Draco, with his wand raised to defend himself. She cleared her throat and composed herself. She was unnecessarily on edge for something she shouldn't be.

"Where's your girlfriend?" she kept her wand raised at him. "Last I heard, she shat herself."

"She's not my girlfriend." Draco scowled. "And I would too, if I were in her place."

"Why are you here?" she pressed.

"Can you please drop your wand?"

"Answer me and I'll answer you." She retorted.

The air was still, and thick with tension. Draco could she was slightly off her feet, like she was mad at herself for whatever she'd done back there on the courtyard. He had to assume she was unstable and would kill him if he said the wrong words.

"This is where I come to think." He said slowly. "I didn't know you would be here."

"Of course you wouldn't." she tucked her wand back into her pocket. "Just because I'm not holding my wand doesn't mean I can't kill you without it."

"Well, thanks for making me feel safer." He lowered his wand, watching as she went up to the railings. She stood there, ignoring him, looking out beyond the castle walls, as far as her eye could see. "What was that back there?"

"I came here to think, not answer questions." She saw him stand next to her out of the corner of her eye.

"You'd better start practicing, because Dumbledore will question you." She could smell him, new leather and burnt jasmine and all.

"Doesn't matter. Speaking of practice, I have to go to band practice now." She spun round on her heels, making a beeline for the stairs.

Draco frowned. Band practice? That meant... "You're playing at the Dance, aren't you? You were never going to go with me."

Hether stopped and narrowed her eyes at the bronze and blue crest on her hoodie. "Don't act like you were either."

He watched as she walked out of his view, till the very top of her braided head had gone down below. He scoffed. They'd played themselves. But he'd only played her because of Pansy, and now that Pansy was out of the picture... he grimaced and bolted down the stairs after her.

"Hey, wait!!" He called after her as he bounded down the steps two at a time. He stopped at the landing, out of breath, and looked around. She was gone, even though she'd left merely seconds ago. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't even know why he was so bothered about a girl he barely knew. It disgusted him and left him bewildered at the same time.

He descended the stairs and made his way down to the Slytherin dormitories, nodding at acquaintances along the way. The Slytherin dormitories were often regarded as scary and intimidating, but not to him. In fact, it rather much resembled his home at Wiltshire – full of colour but yet dead. It made him feel homesick less oft, and reminded him of what it used to be.

He passed through the common room, with its green lights and still air, and made his way to the room he shared with his friends. He lay on his bed and shut his eyes, letting the lapping of the water in the lake above lull him to sleep. It was how he slept on days when everything seemed to crumble apart. The sound was calming, and the cold air made him more comfortable. It made him have very absurd thoughts; that if he were to submerge himself in water, he would be able to sleep within seconds.

The water tossed itself to and fro in a gentle tug-of-war, filling his head with its soft melody, and so, he fell asleep and dreamed a dream.

In his dream, he was swimming. It took him by surprise, because he never swam; he was afraid of the water. He scrambled, trying to claw his way to the surface, but as he did so, he sank lower and lower below the light. Stringy wooden stems fanned across his face from either side, and slowly wrapped themselves about his being, pulling itself tighter and tighter until he could barely breathe.

Draco panicked. And tore at the stems. What was this dream? Dreams were either good or bad signs of things to happen or that had happened. Was this life's cruel way of telling him he was destined to die in the hands of the thing he feared the most? He watched as his hands stopped their futile tugging and grew limp. As he watched, a light seemed to come from under him. It was like smoke; light, wispy smoke. It came from all around him: behind, above, in front, under. He watched as it amassed together before him, until it was vaguely the form of a person.

Was it a patronus? He knew he'd teased Harry for being scared of dementors but he didn't expect it to come back to him. But a patronus was usually in the form of an animal, and never a person. What was this? As he watched, a pair of glowing amber eyes formed in that wonderful mass of light. They looked at him in a way, as if to say, you should know what to do. The mass of light grew closer and closer, until the wooden stems began to dissolve off his being. Thank you, he wanted to say, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Draco's eyes flew open. He drew in a breath, and let it out. As his vision came into focus, he registered a hand, brown and callused, hovering over his face. Was it hers? He traced the hand to its face and scowled. It was Blaise, who was staring at him as if he would rather be shooting arrows at the Womping Willow. Draco swatted it away and sat up in his bed. It was only the two of them in the room.

"Where's everyone?" he rubbed his eyes.

"They've gone for supper, which we're now both late for." Blaise turned away from him and slipped his crest ring on his finger.

"Well, since you care so much," he rose from the bed and ran a brush through his hair. "why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"You wouldn't wake up." Blaise said and reached for the door. He hesitated. "And, we know how much you... dislike water, so I didn't spray you either."

Draco watched as he slunk through the doorway, and out of his line of sight. He was a strange and cold person, Blaise, and if he could he'd rather he didn't have to see his face ever. He ran his hand down his face in an attempt to get rid of any sleep lines. Yet he was grateful he didn't splash his face with water. He opened the door and walked out.