A Watery Dawn || Draco & Pansy
Shaken, still twitchy despite reassurances from both Uncle Severus and the other teachers, and deeply exhausted, Draco finally stumbled into the comforting safety of the Slytherin Dungeons long after he should have been in bed. Was it morning yet? He was too drained even to check the watch in his pocket and with their windows underwater there was no way to guess, but it felt like it must be closer to dawn than midnight.
He yawned so hard he felt like his jaw might unhinge and paused halfway across the room. The lure of his bed was strong, but the fifth year boys’ dormitory seemed so far away right now, the long stairs down to his shared room more than his wobbly legs wanted to dare right now. Perhaps he would sit for a moment, just a moment, to rest a bit before he made the long trek downstairs to where he could collapse into blessed slumber.
(Perhaps he delayed bed despite his exhaustion in part because he feared the nightmares that would surely come, after the night’s ugly events.)
The plush velvet cushions of the dark green couch next to him looked so good right now; he ran a finger across the soft velvet cover and wavered, wondering how bad of an idea it would be to just curl up and nap right there... His thoughts muddled by strain and exhaustion, the last thing Draco was expecting was to hear in what he was sure had to be, at this hour, an empty common room but suddenly a voice broke through his dull reverie and he jumped, the words failing to penetrate the fog that hung over his brain even while they made him start. “What was that?” he exclaimed, his nerves still jangling.
