We meet in words | Draco Malfoy

8.

Draco

Draco detested the hours between dawn and dusk. Too much transpired. But his desire for the night was quickly dashed as he yanked on the school doors.

They refused to open.

Staying up late to read was a regret at the time. He was trapped at school, with no way out unless someone decided to return. He sighed and slumped against the doors, looking around. If you listened carefully, you could hear a pin drop.

Or perhaps it's the skidding of shoes.

When he noticed Isabella running down the hallway, his head shot up.

When she got to him, she paused to take a few deep breaths before speaking.

"What exactly are you doing here?" His response was brief and to the point.

"Library." She nodded her head in agreement.

He was a man of few words, and she was glad she understood what he was saying.

"Dance studio." she said.

He averted his gaze from her, attempting to do the same with his slouched posture.

"I didn't ask." he yelled.

She averted her gaze, taking another deep breath.

"How's your nose? I didn't have a chance to ask the other day." She was trying to strike up a conversation.

The silence that surrounded them was awkward and unsettling. She thought it was best to fill it in, but he didn't respond.

"So you enjoy reading, don't you? Same. I enjoy both romances and mysteries. Thrillers are also of interest to me. Have you read the novel 'The Girl on the Train'? That was incredible! What about 'And Then There Weren't Any', Agatha Christie is a true icon. I don't read many historical novels. Whether it's fiction or not. But there's one book in particular that I adore. 'Toss some salt into the sea', It was set during the Holocaust and centred on these four characters. It was an enjoyable read. I would unquestionably recommend-" His quick retort cut her off.

"Be quiet." She couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'm sorry, but wh- what?" With a groan, he jerked his head in her direction.

"We're stuck together, but that doesn't mean we talk. I didn't sign up for this, so your babbling is unnecessary." She sat down against a wall a few feet away from him, blindly nodding.

He returned his gaze to the outside, where he saw tiny raindrops fall to the ground. Hit anything it could get a hold of.

Rain was a perilous occurrence.

Everyone was worried about tornadoes and earthquakes, so no one expected it to be a killer. People were concerned about lightning and high winds.

But no one seemed to care about the rain's intentions.

Rain was undoubtedly a common occurrence. It was a frightening occurrence. It could be light and calm one moment and then become harsh and jarring the next. Rain was never considered dangerous until it painfully collided with any solid it landed on.

People are the same way.

Sighing, he cast a glance at Isabella, who was sitting quietly. He mumbled, looking down.

"Have you considered John Grisham?" When she heard his voice, her head snapped up.

It was throaty and hoarse.

She gave him a small smile, as if to reassure him.

"His books are excellent. His writing is extremely interpretive, in my opinion." He made eye contact with her and nodded his head.