∞ ϟ

Pansy said, waving her hand in front of me, "you'll pop a blood vessel at the rate you're staring them down."

I had a bowl of oatmeal sitting on the table in front of me, it's cinnamon scent wafting into my face like hot air, but I paid it no mind. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't break my gaze from the trio of Gryffindor's at the table across from me.

Potter, Granger, and the Weasel were just...talking. They seemed just as normal as usual, which was a complete shock considering [y/n] was missing.

Do they even realize she's gone?

Do they even know where she is?

Do they know if she's doing okay?

Stop it, you're asking too many questions, Draco. Besides, Pansy's already noticed your evil glaring, and so has half of the Slytherin table, which is making them all stare at you with confused expressions.

"Hello?" Blaise frowned, nudging my shoulder harshly, "mate, can you hear us?"

Yes, of course I can hear them. I have ears.

"Perfectly," I nodded, narrowing my eyes, "I'm just trying to see what those bloody Gryffindors are deviously planning behind our backs."

Pansy cocked a brow, "they're planning something?"

"They always are."

"Fair point, but I doubt it. One of them is missing."

I know, Pansy, I hissed to myself, did you think I wouldn't notice my own girlfriend gone? I knew she didn't know about us (thank god), but it was still bothersome keeping all of this a secret.

I just wanted to know if she was okay. I wanted to know if Neville made do with my instructions and gave Potter the Gillyweed. There were so many things in play at the moment, that I could barely hear myself think.

"I'm going over there," I stated, standing up from my spot at the bench, "I'm going to find out what they're hiding."

Or find out if they know how [y/n]'s doing.

Before either of my friends could get in another word, I hopped over the wooden seat, landed into the aisle, and began to storm around the tables until I reached the one filled with Weasleys.

I came to a stop in front of the three Gryffindors, hovering over them with an evil glare. The Weasel froze when he saw me, his forkful of breakfast ham stuck in mid air, Granger kept reading some newspaper articles, and Potter narrowed his eyes.

"Malfoy?" He said suspiciously, adjusting the rim of his glasses, "what do you want?"

To know if my girlfriend is doing okay, and if she's being drowned to her death in a disgusting lake filled with amphibians and merpeople.

Unfortunately, I couldn't say that, so I had to come up with another excuse. Good thing I always had a knack for lying.

"I'm here to bully you, Potter," I announced loudly, "why else?"

Yes, excellent cover-up, Draco. Well done. 1,000,000 points to Slytherin for being the embodiment of subtlety, cleverness, and good looks.

Potter wrinkled his nose in surprise, setting down his fork with a clatter. "Um...in the middle of breakfast?"

"Yes, in the middle of breakfast," I snapped.

"Well, we're kinda busy eating right now—"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, is now not a good time?" I noted sarcastically, "let me schedule an appointment into your schedule for tomorrow at noon, so I can bully you properly, then."

"Malfoy, are you okay?"

No.

"Yes."

"You're acting stranger than usual."

Weasel was eyeing me with complete suspicion now, occasionally looking at the Slytherin table behind us to see if any of my friends were in on my plan. They weren't. There wasn't even a plan to begin with, I just decided that I needed an answer to ease my worries.

Play it cool, Draco. Don't let them know your true intentions.

"Where's your friend?" I said bluntly, "I thought there were four of you."

Granger looked up at once. She had barely bothered to bat an eyelash my way this entire time, but as soon as I mentioned [y/n], she was interested. Did she know something I didn't? She seemed awfully calm about the question, while Potter was beginning to writhe in jealousy like a worm.

Wormy Potter. Harry Wormtter. Genius.

"Neither of us have seen her since the Yule Ball," Granger said, shutting her newspaper closed, "although Mcgonagall says she went to speak to Dumbledore"

"Oh," I nodded, "is she in trouble....?"

"No, I don't think so."

"In need of assistance?"

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" Weasel snapped, "it's because of you she got in trouble and hurt Wood."

Oh, shut up you tomato-hair looking wizar—did he just say it was my fault? No, I must have been hearing things. There's no way he could know that [y/n] was trying to defend me. That would be completely disastrous. I'd have to obliviate the entire school immediately.

"Everyone knows she's got horrible aim," The Weasel continued, "she really meant to hit you, but she accidentally hit Oliver cause you were busy beating him up."

Phew.

As much as I would have liked to pester them about my girlfriend's well-being, I was clearly drawing unnecessary attention from other Gryffindors around the trio in front of me. I needed to escape. I needed a diversion.

"Is that an apple?" I said, pointing at the table.

We only had red ones back at my table, and yet there was a perfectly beautiful, luscious, voluptuous, and light-green apple sitting atop the fruit bowl in front of the Weasel.

Potter blinked, "yes, it is."

"I see."

"Why are—"

"It's mine" I said, swiping it up into my grip, "I'm done bullying you, Potter, goodbye."

And then I left.

♔✵

I hate crowds. I just want to step on all these people and stomp over towards the edge of the water-tower to get a better look at the tournament, because my nerves are getting the better of me.

Potter's been in the water for an hour.

Diggory was the first to get to shore, rescuing that Ravenclaw girl, then it was Krum, who rescued some Beauxbaton girl, and Fleur lost halfway in. BUT WHERE WAS POTTER?!

I didn't give him that Gillyweed for the sole purpose of him to screw up saving my girlfriend! Unbelievable! The audacity of that stupid boy! I would strangle him if he was here right now, then pay for his swimming lessons, because he clearly needs them.

"See anything yet?" I pressed, leaning over the side of the railing, "there's too many people in the way."

Goyle, who was the tallest of the group, squinted his eyes, "nothing yet."

"God, can Potter be more useless?"

Crabbe wrinkled his nose, "since when did want Potter to win?"

"I don't!"

"Then why are you breaking a sweat, Malfoy?"

'Because it's hot, alright?" I snapped, shivering in the cold, "mind your own business, Crabbe."

Before either of them could respond, a loud cheering sound erupted around the Black Lake, everyone leaping out of their seats in excitement. From a few yards away, I noticed the water break surface, and a two familiar people came shooting into the air.

Finally.

Potter had [y/n] clasped in his arm, his wand clenched in his right hand defensively. Whatever he encountered in the water must have been dangerous enough to make Potter use magic (he was never any good at it, anyways). As he paddled himself up towards the stands, I noticed that the girl in his embrace wasn't moving.

No.

She wasn't even conscious.

"Bloody hell," I cursed under my breath, "no."

I couldn't control myself, spinning around wildly and pushing my way down the stairs and towards the bottom of the tower. She wasn't moving. Everyone began to notice that, because gasps started to erupt around the space like a horrible alarm of worry.

No, no, no, no, were the only thoughts in my mind, please be alright. I hadn't seen her in a day, and I could barely sleep with the knowledge that she could be hurt—and now she was. As I made it to the front of the crowd, I watched as a litter of teachers dragged the girl onto the plank, all muttering to themselves in fear.

Her body lay limp, a shade of purple spreading along her skin.

"Get her to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said, waving his hand at Madame Pomfrey, "at once."

The nurse waved her hand, magicking a stretcher out of thin air, and placing the girl onto the carrier gently. I couldn't look away. I couldn't move my gaze, even as they carried her past me, ignoring the mutterings surrounding the lake.

Potter could walk alongside her, pretend he was trying his best to talk to her, wrapped in towels, and holding her hand like he was some savior.

He could do all those things.

But I couldn't even touch her.