CHAPTER TWELVE

. . .

DRACO is surprisingly punctual. Surprising, because Enoch hadn't expected him to show up at all. Sure there wasn't a lot the older boy could do, but he hadn't expected to be so successful. He can barely contain a pleased smile as he watches through one of the bookshelves, as Draco wanders slowly through the library, clearly searching for him as casually as he can.

The Hufflepuff had sensed his entrance almost instantly, the distinct lemon and petrichor rolling over his senses. The brine had grown stronger too, though that had already been there. It took a matter of seconds to spot the boy, a task only made difficult because of his determination to find him through the books. However, the striking white blond hair stands out fairly well. As he takes in the Slytherin's appearance, Enoch's displeased to note that the other boy still doesn't look too good—he looks better than he had before the infirmary trip, but his sharp features are still gaunt and he looks like he needs a good, long sleep. Maybe a good dinner too. And a hug.

But Enoch doesn't think he'd accept any of them.

Right when Draco looks ready to leave, Enoch pokes his head out from the aisle. He expects to have to wave, maybe call out the boy's name, but the blond notices him instantly. Confusion leaving his expression, he heads towards him; at least twice, he glances around at the other students quietly studying or chatting.

"Over here." The transfer whispers as he leads Draco down the aisle, around to a small little corner. His books and bag are already spread out across the space, having already settled in during his spare. The older boy frowns at the lack of a desk and chair but when the brunet sits, he doesn't have many other options. Enoch sits right in the corner, back pressed against the wall, while Draco perches across from him as though he's unsure where to sit and how to hold himself. He looks uncomfortable and the younger moves his bag, patting the now clear space beside him. Clearly unwilling, the male slides over and sits down in the spot. Once sat, he scooches away a little more, as though he's afraid to be too close to Enoch.

"Hungry..." Enoch mutters to himself as he rubs his stomach, gazing around the place. Draco is visibly uncomfortable, not wanting to be here at all, and it's contagious; the younger boy had been fine, but now he feels incredibly awkward. Not wanting to make eye contact—or really interact with the other boy at all—he busies himself by rummaging through his bag. Right at the bottom is a warm thermos and his little box of candies. He grabs both of them.

The blond is visibly surprised to see the almost picnic-like set up Enoch produces. The surprise quickly morphs into a more controlled confusion—a raised eyebrow, nothing more. But Enoch ignores him as he pours some of the warm tea into a cup and takes a sip. With the effects almost instant, the Hufflepuff feels a calmness wash through him as the herbal tea heats him from the inside. Draco is forgotten as he enjoys the first sip and the emotions attached. It helps lift the awkwardness inside of him just a little—enough to focus on the task at hand.

"Do you want some?" The brunet offers, gesturing at the other cups that came with the set resting in his bag. Draco shakes his head quickly, leaning back against the wall. There's an air of nonchalance wrapped around him, an indifference radiating from his blank stare. Enoch thinks that's what makes him the most uncomfortable—the lack of everything; it makes it impossible to tell where he stands. And he hates that.

"I'm not here to have a picnic. I came here because I need your notes." Enoch nods slowly. The mentioned notes rest inside his bag, already translated because he's been here a while and didn't want to write an essay. It would be quite easy to just hand them over, be done with it, but the younger isn't quite willing to relinquish Draco's company just yet. It's not often he catches him outside of class, without the other Slytherin kids that cause him to grow colder and meaner.

"You can have them... if," The eyebrow raises again, uncaring but questioning and suspicious all at once, "You help me."

"With what?" Now he pulls the sheets of paper from his bag, spreading them out across the floor until he finds the one he's after. Pointing at a few lines, the boy reveals the area of Alchemy he's been struggling with the most: remembering what elements can transmute into what.

As Draco glances over the lines, a small huff of air that Enoch likes to think is a laugh leaves his lips. There's certainly a smirk alighting his eyes and lips, but it isn't as harsh as some of the smirks the boy gives. Enoch really hopes it's a form of amusement—but hopefully not a cruel one.

"You might find it easier to remember," The blond Slytherin eventually says, the ghost of the smile still resting on his lips, "if you turn it into a chart. Pass me..." Now the smile leaves as he's handed a pen, rather than the quill he'd expected, and is replaced with a sort of grimace. He frowns at Enoch, judgement passing over his expression. But then he sighs, shakes his head, and takes one of the pieces of paper. "See, it's a bit easier to understand if you organise it like this."

Enoch shuffles closer to Draco, almost pressed against him but not really, peering over the older boy's shoulder as he begins to draw out the transmutation table. His handwriting is rather neat, though a little shaky with the less familiar instrument. Sipping his tea as he listens and watches, the brunet feels himself getting a little more comfortable.

And, he's quite surprised to note, the older boy's body—even with the small distance between them—does in fact radiates warmth. Maybe he isn't so cold blooded after all.

. . .

It's later in the afternoon when they leave, almost evening. Draco hadn't intended to spend that long with the younger boy, planning on getting what he needed and leaving, but Enoch needed everything explained to him twice (to make sure it stays in his head, he claimed). He hadn't minded so much though, barely noticing until he glanced up at the window and saw the sun starting to get low.

As they go to leave, wandering slowly from the quiet library, Enoch offers the blond a piece of lemon candy but is once again rejected with a shake of the head and slight grimace. They unintentionally walk in step, neither meaning to walk together but also not doing anything to stop him. There's a silence between them, but for once it doesn't feel awkward—Draco doesn't feel as awkward, at least. They just walk.

Until, of course, Crabbe and Goyle appear. The sight of them reminds Draco of what he's doing, who he's associating himself with, and it all disappears. He tenses up, scowl spreading across his face (though he's not sure if this is really directed at Enoch, and more at the other two).

"Move it, transfer." Draco mutters and shoves past the unsuspecting younger male. He immediately feels regret bubble up inside him—something he's not used to feeling—and does his best to suppress it. Approaching the other two Slytherin, he wonders how they found him. Hopefully no one spotted him with Enoch and their appearance is merely a coincidence.

"Hey, wh–" The brunet is silenced with a glare; it was supposed to be a quiet message telling the boy that he has to maintain this front even if he can tolerate the younger to some degree, but all he can really manage is a malicious glare. He hopes Enoch can sense somewhere, probably deep down inside of him, the slightly less harsh emotions. From the look on his face, he can't. The hurt frown taking Enoch's face, turning into a sort of glare, feeds the regret.

With a rude jerk of his head, Draco dismisses the younger, trying to get him to leave before worse things are said or done. Thankfully this works, and Enoch storms past him.

But it doesn't make the blond feel any better. And this alone makes him feel worse, not quite right.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE )

I wanted to create conflict but then I remembered 1) I hate conflict & would prefer to avoid it at all costs and 2) because of that I'm not the best at writing it. But oh well, it'll do. I'm trying really hard to write this properly coz we're only twelve chapters in & I have a whole duology planned. Hopefully I can like, get my ideas in order. I'm gonna sit down & do some planning later. I'll do my best

Why Do You Feel So Down by Declan Mckenna has become like this story's song for me, I associate the two so heavily. Just listening to it makes me wanna write this or something (though I'm not always the lost successful) ((side note: I'm half tempted to make a lousy FMV of the two with the song to inspire me further but really that's a lot of effort and also more procrastinating. But it'd be fun! I think))

Thanks for being so patient (: