My heart plummeted as I heard the dreaded sound of my bedroom door creaking open.

"No, no, please no," I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks as I felt a hand tugging at my bed covers.

"Astrid,"

"Please, no," I begged, shaking uncontrollably, "please..."

Hands grabbed at me and I did the only thing I could think of doing -

I screamed.

...

Draco jumped up in an instant, looking in alarm down at the trembling figure before him.

"Astrid!"

Her eyes flew open and he saw the fear within them, making his heart clench in pain. He hadn't meant to scare her.

He had been concerned when she hadn't turned up in the Great Hall for dinner. So, grabbing some supplies, he had made his way straight to the seventh floor. And when he saw her asleep under the blankets in the makeshift bed she had made, he had, without thinking, knelt down beside her and tried to gently shake her awake.

"Draco?" She breathed, focusing her eyes on him in confusion. Her chest heaved heavily as she gathered deep, frightened breaths. He could see beads of sweat glisten across her pale, tired skin.

"I'm sorry," he said, kneeling back down next to her, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to alarm her further. He tentatively offered a hand out to her and was relieved when she didn't flinch, but instead reached her own, quivering hand out to take it.

"I- I thought... I thought it was my-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Astrid," he murmured, interlocking his long, pale fingers with her trembling, delicate ones; grasping her hand tightly to his in a gesture of comfort.

He dared inched closer when she squeezed his hand back, and felt an immense feeling of relief when she sat up and allowed him to pull her into his embrace.

Draco wrapped his arms around her, holding her while her body shook against his. Eventually, she lifted her head, her glistening blue glassy eyes looking up into his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't," he growled fiercely, cupping her face as his eyes pierced down intently into hers, "don't ever apologise for him."

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes and he had to resist the urge to kiss them away from her cheeks. Instead, he moved his hand to the back of her head, intwining his fingers through her cascading mass of black hair as he gently massaged her scalp, letting her sob into his chest.

Draco lost time of how long they were sat like that on the floor. He kept glancing up at the cabinet guiltily, causing a sick feeling to swop low in his stomach. He had barely even looked at it since he arrived, let alone tried to fix it.

But as he stared back down at the Muggle in his arms, he knew it was hopeless. As long as she needed him, she would always come first. He had this overwhelming desire to protect her, and it was a feeling that seemed to be beyond his control.

Draco Malfoy was screwed.

...

I eventually extricated myself from Draco's embrace, feeling slightly embarrassed of having allowed myself to breakdown in his arms.

But when I looked up at his face, I was surprised to see nothing but worry and concern etched over his features. There was not even the tiniest trace of disdain or exasperation that I had been expecting to see.

"Are you okay?" He murmured, reaching for his bag, and producing another Tupperware box, "here, are you able to eat something?"

I tiredly sank into the sofa, stabbing a fork gratefully into a hot cheesy jacket potato whilst watching Draco roll up his sleeves and get to work on the cabinet.

"I met Harry Potter today," I declared, after swallowing my last mouthful of dinner.

Draco, who had been concentrating intensely on something inside of the cabinet, suddenly stood up, banging the top of his head on an inside shelf.

"Funny," he muttered, wincing slightly as he rubbed a hand over the bump on his head, "but I don't remember Potter being in Hufflepuff."

"I was man handled into the Gryffindor common room by a boy called Ron," I explained, smiling amusedly at Draco's disgruntled expression, "he seemed overly keen for me to meet Harry and his other friend Hermione."

"Weasley and Granger," Draco snarled, his top lip curling in obvious distaste, "So the flipping Golden Trio are trying to get recruits."

"Oh, I don't know about that," I said, raising my eyebrows at the utter hatred dripping from his voice, "Hermione didn't seem to like me at all. And Harry seemed slightly wary of me. He didn't seem to buy my story of being transferred from Beauxbatons."

Draco twitched in annoyance, "That bloody Potter! Always sticking his nose in other peoples damned business!"

I jumped slightly as he slammed the cabinet door shut.

"Sorry," Draco muttered, having noticed this, "he just has a way of riling me up sometimes."

"You don't say," I said, not bothering to hide the sarcastic tone of my voice.

Ignoring this remark, Draco pulled out his wand and focused his attention back on the cabinet. I listened as he started to chant eerie, yet beautiful sounding words, his voice low, silky, and hypnotic.

I watched in awe as the cabinet appeared to tremble into life, the surface glimmered as shadows moved from within.

My heart thudded at the magic I was witnessing before my very eyes. The competence and the self assuredness of Draco's own ability making it all the more powerful to watch.

But, as the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into hours, it seemed that Draco was no closer to fixing it.

"It's only been one day," I tried to assure him as he plonked himself heavily down on the other end of the sofa. I glanced up at a clock. It was two o'clock in the morning. I didn't understand how Draco was going to cope going to classes the next day.

He looked over at me with tired, haunted eyes. His normally pale skin had a greyish tinge to it. My heart clenched painfully for him, wishing so much that he didn't feel the burden of both this horrendous task and having to look after me.

"I can't even runaway from this," he sighed heavily, running his hands exhaustedly through his white blond hair, "because wherever I will go, he will find me."

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking down savagely at the dark ink on his left forearm.

Not knowing any words of comfort that I could offer him, I decided to lean over and touch his arm instead. His head shot up immediately, his pale grey eyes softening as they met mine.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said hoarsely, taking my hand and squeezing it gently in his, "you really don't know just how much."

"I do, Draco," I smiled sadly, "because I'm glad I'm here too."

When he left that night, neither Draco nor I had any clue that over in the Gryffindor Tower, a certain someone was staring confusedly at a map, wondering why Draco Malfoy's name had suddenly appeared out of nowhere on the seventh floor, and that no matter how hard he tried to look, he could not find the name Astrid Williams anywhere.