The Consequence of Ambition

Prologue

"Stop looking at me like that. Stop it please. Stop looking at me like you hate me!" Begged Lana, her bright blue eyes full of regret filled tears that clung to her bottom lash line, determined not to let them fall she blinked furiously and grabbed onto the collar of Draco's shirt desperate to get him to listen, but he slapped her hand away and pushed her back into the wall.

"Why can you not get it into your head that I do hate you" he snarled back, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath hot with rage scratching at the skin of her cheeks.

"If you Hate me look me right in the eyes and say the words. Tell me you hate me and you want me to die. Tell me that if you had the chance you would kill me right here and now. Tell me that you would step over my body and not feel the slightest bit of remorse. Tell me that my life is the worst thing to ever happen to this world and you wish that I had never been born, and that you had never met me and that my existence had never tainted you're oh so privileged and perfect pure blood life. TELL ME DRACO. LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME. AND MEAN IT." She spat the words out with more malice and anger than she had ever felt in her life, the tears that she had tried so valiantly to hold back were now spilling down her face and catching in the corner of her lips so she could taste salt as she spat out her bitter rant.

"You think my life is perfect?" he whispered. There was silence for a few seconds and Lana's ragged breath seemed deafening in the emptiness of the room. The silence however was broken by Draco slamming his fist into the wall behind Lana, inches from her face. She jumped and pushed her hand down into her jean pocket, fingers curling around her wand. Just in case.

"Now let me tell you something. My life is nothing but perfect. My life is pretty much as close to hell as you could imagine. So don't ever. Ever. Assume my life is perfect." His tone was quiet and frighteningly calm, his face was even closer now, she could see right into the depths of his eyes, and she could see such a deep pain that it changed her entire view on him. Stood before her was not who she saw before. He was not a privileged, stuck up, rich, entitled, prejudiced daddy's boy. No. He was a broken man. The terrifyingly sobering realisation left her quiet. Her crying had stopped and her breathing was steady so that the only remains of her breakdown were the drying tear tracks on her flushed checks. she let out a soft whisper

"Draco. If you really hate me, tell it to me now."

He looked at her. He had told her it a million times, hell he had said it not even two minutes ago. But he knew deep down that it didn't matter how many times he told her, or how many times he told himself. He didn't hate her. He couldn't hate her if his life depended on it.