Falling Dark Chapter 22 is Live!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31444262/chapters/92959981
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886657/22/Falling-Dark
"What the fuck are you looking at, Malfoy? Do you have something to say? Finally?"
Theo's snarl cut through Draco's abstraction and he started.
"Fuck you." Draco was pleased that his voice came out clear and strong. His hand shot to his wand and he saw Theo's do the same. They glared at each other for several moments before Theo's hand slowly dropped.
"She wouldn't want us to do this," he said, letting out a breath. Then, "Why don't you come in?"
Draco was so surprised that his wand hand dropped too. He frowned at Theo, who said, "Come on," and turned toward his door. He opened it and looked expectantly at Draco, whose feet seemed to be propelling him across the hall.
Was he doing this?
It seemed so.
Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. Or maybe just fatally curious.
Draco stepped into Theo's room almost gingerly, as if he was going to see Hermione's knickers draped over a lamp.
It was me with her last night, not him. Draco chanted it in his mind, which was why he didn't turn around and walk out when he did see a muggle picture of Hermione, smiling and windblown, propped up on Theo's mantle.
Theo saw Draco staring at it. "That was taken recently," he said. "Couple of weeks ago."
Like that bloody mattered. Like Theo didn't have stacks of others hidden away somewhere, Draco was sure of it. From all those little jaunts they'd taken last term.
Probably put them away because of Daphne, although now Draco saw a similar snap of her near the one of Hermione.
Fucking lovely. How they were all so healthy and friendly and just fine with each other.
Draco again considered walking out, but Theo was grabbing something under his desk and now he turned, holding one of those bottles of muggle single malt whisky Draco was always coveting.
"Drink?" Theo asked.
And Draco supposed they were doing this, because he heard himself say, "OK."
He really wanted to try the whisky.
"Sit down." Theo gestured to the bed.
But Draco didn't want to sit there—where Theo and Hermione had possibly—so he just said, "I'll stand."
Theo looked up and did that canny thing he sometimes did. "Oh," he said, eyes darting to the bed. "Take the chair." He slung the desk chair around and pushed it at Draco, who contemplated leaving again before he finally sat, his upper body tense, but his legs ostentatiously out, spread wide.
