constellations | d.m.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ draco ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Songs: "How to disappear"-Lana Del Rey

Months passed. And still nothing seemed to change. 

A living, breathing person--a girl who I fatefully found in the Astronomy Tower, the half-blood who cut me raw, who accepted the secrets I kept wordlessly, whos world collided with mine and then forcibly severed ties--Wisteria Altherr was gone. 

She simply ceased to exist in the minds of those around me, and no one seemed to have noticed, or cared. She lived only in my mind, always in my mind. 

I tested everything I could. 

Obviously when I first discovered her disappearance, I interviewed my closest confidants first, but to no avail. Hoping that they were simply unaware of her existence in the first place, although hard to believe as it was one of the biggest scandals of the year, I probed the three Gryffindors I loathed the most. 

Testing. 

Even they did not recall any such person existing, much less befriending them. 

I ran through the school records, past terms swimming through my brain but somehow, she wasn't written down. I retraced my steps, back to the Tower, to the jewelry shop where I so carefully crafted the constellation, even to Ilky who I was sure  would acknowledge the existence of Wisteria Altherr. 

I had too much hope in the beginning. I fell into shock, doubting those around me and eventually myself, spending most nights in the Tower, reliving memories of her  over and over and fucking over--but she only existed in my mind.

I pored obsessively over the matter. First of all, everyone around me who already thought I was mad now thought I was clinically insane for the recalls of a person who doesn't exist. Then, the issue lay with the whole mess of it all. If no one remembers, then no one could help me search. Finally, the timing. She vanished sometime after cutting me off, although I wasn't sure exactly when. 

Rubbing my temples was a constant habit now.

The line between day and night blurred, for I would spend the day mechanically moving through the routines of class and meals, and nights in the Tower theorizing. I had many. Theories, that is. 

I created Wisteria Altherr in my mind, I hallucinated her, I imagined everything and I looked like a deranged fool talking to myself for the past term. That was one. 

Everything and everyone around me was a hallucination, including her, and I am actually a lab rat stuck in my own memories, reliving them day by day. That was another, although not my favorite and gave me slight anxiety. 

Everyone actually does  remember Wisteria, but they're playing some kind of terrible prank on me. Disproved. Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Nott wouldn't have played along. 

The Dark Lord decided to murder her and obliviate everyone in the world so she would not live on, not even in memories. Half-disproved. The Dark Lord would be willing to do such a thing, however I, too would be obliviated, and there is yet to be a motive or connection between the two. 

I developed a poor habit of tugging at my hair when I was lost in thought, and as a result my previously neat hair was now constantly disheveled. I was constantly lost in her. Or rather, lost in visions of her in my mind. 

Perhaps I was going insane. 

I was no idiot, I knew my mental health was declining rather rapidly and my physical appearance along with it. But for someone who had never dealt with hardship before, this was difficult. And insanely  so. 

I knew she was gone either way. Even if she was here in person, even if she had never dissipated, she would be gone. From me. 

But I had thought this a hundred times over, and it always led to the same conclusion. Knowing was infinitely better than the vast unknown. Seeing her walk through the halls, knowing that she would never be mine was crushing. But better than the nothingness I received now. 

That bit made me laugh. Hilarious, it seemed, that heartbreak was better than ghosting. How cruel. 

The emptiness I felt was immeasurable. Incalculable. I was always rather good at arithmancy. But these numbers couldn't be added up.

Of course I wanted to give up. So many damn times before. 

Every fucking night I go sleepless, aching for just one fucking sliver of information, just wanting to know where she was, if she was okay; one drop would cure my thirst and save me from this wretched unknowing. But trying to forget proved impossible. Trying to forget her  proved impossible. 

Often, I find myself asking the Universe, "Why me? Why was I the Chosen One, why was I forced to retain her existence? Why couldn't I be purged of her like the rest of them."

I never thought life was unfair when I lived on the side with greener grass. Born into extreme wealth, old money, pure blood, given opportunities millions would die for. On that side, life was never unfair. But now, it is. 

I think one of the greatest abilities of man is being able to put on a mask. The subtle art of hiding one's emotions takes skill, and practice. Luckily I've had months to train. In the beginning, yes, I was dreadful. Masking this type of empty was different than the others. 

Physically, I stopped caring because I told myself her  sudden disappearance was the only thing that mattered. My hair became disheveled and knotted, whatever slight muscles I had before disappeared altogether from a lack of nutrition and exercise, and dark rings constantly framed my eyes. 

My friends could tell something was wrong, it was evident even to outsiders, but upon asking I would only reply with surface answers. Stress. Tired. Busy. 

I couldn't possibly explain to them that my manic behavior was due to a person that doesn't exist. 

It was only during my visit back to the Manor for Winter Holidays that prevented me from complete self-annihilation. Ilky was the first one to greet me, and at first glance she made such a fuss that the other servants came and watched. 

She insisted that, "Master Malfoy is deserving better, Hogwarts bad at taking caring, Master Malfoy is heir and needs well being." 

She fixed me up the best she could, nearly force feeding me as I refused appetite, and I let myself be handled. It felt good to have everything taken care of. When my mother saw me, she nearly reacted the same as Ilky. She even called up a doctor to prescribe medication to ensure my appetite and moods. I would have been irritated by their, but I haven't been tended for in so long. Cared for. Loved for. 

So in that short span I was able to improve again, but my mind never stopped searching for her. Even when I wasn't deliberately theorizing, she was there, always there. 

At least I was able to regain some sleep after months of insomnia. But she was there too, in my dreams. And in my nightmares. 

Sometimes it felt a little too real to be in my head. She  felt too real to only exist in my head. 

But upon returning to school replenished, I ordered myself to hide her. And so I put on a mask, I hid my emotions, and eventually, it was like nothing had ever changed. But everything did. 

The world was cold once more and so was I. 

But a hidden desire, a want, a need  for answers, for her, smoldered inside me.