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.

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."

I laughed softly, brushing aside his hair to plant a kiss on his forehead. He smiled at that. For the next half-and-hour, I continued to study various methods about the Polyjuice Potions, while Draco quietly sobbed into my arms and mumbled occasional remarks about the book he had just read.

An hour later, I was almost finished with my textbook segment, when I realized the boy had become awfully quiet.

It was only until I titled my head down, that I realized he had fallen asleep.

His mouth was slightly ajar, his head hanging back against my arm limply, while one of his fingers was hooked onto the hem of my dress shirt. He looked so peaceful. Calm. Happy. Angelic, really.

Until he let out a loud snore.

"Oh, hell no," I snorted, holding back a laugh, "we're not having any of that in the future."

Naturally I didn't expect him to hear me, since he was clearly sleeping, but I also didn't expect her to have heard me either. I didn't notice her walk in. I didn't hear her walk in. And yet there she was, standing right behind me.

Minerva Mcgonagall was staring at Draco and I with an unreadable expression.

"Unfortunately, the topic of your and Mr. Malfoy's future will have to be postponed," the woman said bluntly, holding up her hand, "we have more pressing matters that need attending to."

She heard me. Oh gosh. I'm done for.

I gulped nervously, "is everything okay, professor?"

"Nothing to be concerned about."

"Right, of course," I nodded, "I'll be right there."

It was plainly obvious—Mcgonagall had figured us out. It wasn't normal to see two students platonically cuddled up next to each other in the library, after all, and I'm sure she suspected it after hearing me mutter something about our future.

Help. Me.

"Draco," I whispered, patting the side of his cheek, "wake up!"

He didn't wake up.

"Seriously, I have to go!"

Solid as a rock.

"So be it," I groaned, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and shaking him like a rag doll, "snap out of it, Malfoy!"

I wanted to wake him up gently, but his entire weight was pressing down on me and I couldn't stand onto my feet without falling backwards into my chair, knocking him onto the floor, or whacking his head on the table.

At least he finally fluttered his eyelids open.

WhereamI?" He yawned, his words sticking together in a string of consonants. He took one look at my face, and smiled."Oh, morning, Darling."

I winced at his terms of endearment, "look to your right."

"Why?"

I didn't bother responding, because the boy turned his head and caught sight of Gryffindor's Head of House staring at him with a beady expression. His soul left his body shortly after.

"I did not say that," he garbled quickly, scrambling onto his feet, "I said dirty, not darling, you...dirty witch, how dare you touch me, [l/n]!"

"Draco..."

"No, no, no, my name is not Draco to you, it's Malfoy, please call me Malfoy because my first name is off limits to everyone I do nOt have mild relations with."

"She knows," I said bluntly, cutting him off at last, "don't freak out."

If I wasn't mistaken, I swear I almost saw Mcgonagall smile. I couldn't tell if it was towards Draco's embarrassing attempt to cover it up, or my acknowledgement towards her, but it seemed to calm everyone down slightly.

I got out of my chair, sweeping up my library books into my arms quickly.

"I have to go," I nodded to the boy, beginning to walk towards the professor, "I'll see you around, okay?"

Draco blinked, "where are you going?"

"I'm not sure," I said, turning towards the woman beside me, "where am I going?"

Now that I had a better look, I realized the professor was still dressed in her Yule Ball garments. Her dark green dress swept towards the floor, while her pointy black hat was tilted in a stylistic fashion. Not to mention, she still wore that faint smile.

"Unfortunately, that information is strictly confidential," she announced, "but considering you two are closer than most, I suppose I can provide a simple category."

Draco's ears perked up.

Mcgonagall continued, "Miss [l/n] will be lending a hand in the Triwizard Tournament's Second Task."

Draco's ears didn't perk up anymore.

Instead, a shadow fell across his face as realization clicked. It registered for me as well. Dumbledore mentioned something about treasures a few days ago, but I didn't entirely remember it, considering I was stuffing my face with breakfast—but it was clear I was used in place of that.

And most likely the treasure for—

"Potter?" Draco scoffed, "don't tell me he's supposed to save her."

Mcgonagall narrowed her eyes, "I didn't tell you that, Mr. Malfoy."

"But you can't let her go! Potter won't save her, he barely got out of the first task!"

"Draco," I cut in, "I'll be fine."

I turned to follow the professor out of the library, but I felt the boy's hand grab my wrist and pull me back. He had worry written over every single part of his face.

"If Potter doesn't save her," he said, his breath heavy as he looked at Mcgonagall, "will she be fine?"

The woman pursed her lips, "she will be well taken care of."

"Do I have your word?"

There was a pause, before she nodded her head. There was something in her eyes that told us whatever lied ahead was dangerous, but then again, what power did we have against it?

Slipping my hand out of Draco's grasp, I gave him a small smile.

"I'll be fine," I nodded, "trust me."