the girl who lost it all [d.m]

sixteen: mutatio

mutatio: change, mutation, alteration

———

ELARA shouldn't find Draco Malfoy bleeding attractive.

She shouldn't—it was completely irrational—but that stupid thrum in her veins hummed at the sight of him, blood trickling from his nose, one hand trying to staunch the bleeding.

The feeling intensified as he finally raised those silver eyes once more, skating over her before shifting back to Blaise who stood right next to her, the only thing holding him back her hand fisting his sleeve.

"Zabini," Malfoy said finally, dropping his hand and his lips curved in a smirk. "Good to see you."

Blaise strained against Elara's hand and although she knew he could easily break free, she knew he was trying not to because she was there. "Don't fucking talk to me, you fucking traitor."

The smile didn't fade from Malfoy's face even as his former best friend spat at him. "I fail to understand what you're angry about. Aren't I on your side?"

"I don't trust you one bit," Blaise bit out, muscles tense underneath Elara's hand. She tightened her grip, tugged him back an inch. "All you've ever done is lie, Malfoy."

The Death Eater's expression flickered but he didn't look any less amused. "True. I believe it's my job definition as a spy."

Blaise scoffed. "Always picking the other side of the war, huh? At Hogwarts, you were a Death Eater and now, you decided to switch back?" He took a threatening step forward but Malfoy didn't even flinch. "How do we know you're not using us, hmm? Just like you used—"

He suddenly stopped short, blinking, and his brows furrowed before he tried again. "Just like you used—"

Again, his sentence cut off, abruptly, as if someone had cast a Silencio on him.

The wicked curvature of Malfoy's lips only sharpened, blood crimson above his lip. Blaise glared back at him, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Elara realised what had happened quicker than she expected.

"It's the Vow, isn't it?" She looked between them. "It won't let you say that next sentence."

A muscle in Blaise's jaw ticked and then he was letting out something akin to a growl and ripping away from her grasp, crossing the room until he stood by the front door.

"Scared, Zabini?" Malfoy didn't look perturbed at all. "I assure you, if I had plans to hurt you, you'd already be dead."

Elara shot him a warning look, wishing he'd stop egging Blaise on. "Alright, enoug—"

"Trust me, Malfoy," Blaise hissed from across the room. "The only reason I'm over here is because I will not beat you to a bloody pulp in front of Jacobs."