𝐵𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 | 𝒟.𝑀.

16 | ﴾ Trouble In Paradise? ﴿

The carriage Narcissa had sent us in to get to the train station was absurdly lavish. The interior was lined with gold fixtures and heavy black cloth. She had forced me to put on a formal black dress before leaving, reminding me that I now represented the Malfoy name in public. 

I stared at Draco who was sitting across from me in his green school robes, staring right back indifferently. He had a menacing ability to hold eye contact with other people in an authoritative, unblinking manner. Something had changed again between us. In the past day he had hardened back into a cruel, snippy version of himself, and we were once again bickering pathetically.

To break the uncomfortable stare off I thought it would be amusing to start smiling at him psychotically. He rolled his eyes and looked out the window with a huff, "Do you ever compose yourself?" His deep voice hinted at discouragement. He knew that I could compose myself when I needed to, it was a low blow. I had sat with a very straight face on at Christmas Eve and did my best to impress his gruesome family.

"Do you ever smile?" I retorted, also resigning to watching the landscape slide by through the window. It was white and fluffy outside, a perfect snowy day. We were bouncing along through a heavily wooded road in rural Britain and there wasn't much outside the window to distract oneself with.

I had decided that I would need to prod him more productively for answers about what was going on.

He was possibly the hardest person to hold conversation with - he truly was a master of abruptly ending an already strained exchange. Talking, I had decided, was far from his strong suit. I still was left with so many questions; a pile of unanswered mysteries about what was going on between us. I knew then, at least, that he had specifically chosen me, on purpose, to take on his last name.

"You made me feel like this whole thing...like it could be something real instead."

The way he had said it implied that he might have authentic feelings for me, but since that night he had been stand offish again, as he was before the crest. He was acting like he had chosen me for my family status, or because Astoria was the worst possible alternative. Like he had moved from one trap to a slightly more bearable one. 

I was convinced he had some kind of attraction to me that was deeper than just sexual, but if he did he was making it extremely difficult to extract. On top of that, I had gone and developed actual feelings for someone who didn't respect me at all. I knew in my heart that I was in trouble after our last hook up.

The carriage gave off an endless cacophony of wooden banging noises and metal screeching. The medieval form of transportation was neither comfortable nor ideal, and I fought the urge to question him about why his family would use such a ridiculous mode of transit. I probably had a limited amount of questions that I would be able to ask before we either reached the Hogwarts Express or he snapped at me, and I wasn't about to waste one querying about the carriage.

"You're staring at me again. Is something amusing?" He inquired without glancing up from the window. His blond hair was soft that day and he looked handsome in the sunlight in his green robes; his bright blue eyes were shining like icy orbs as he watched the snowy landscape glide by slowly. I hadn't seen him in full light for most of the time we had spent in the dungeon-like manor.

"Draco, we are going back to de castle now. What are we?" I nervously shifted in my seat and played with my gloves so I could release my anxiety. I needed clarification on what to tell people. No doubt all of the young witches who had been present in the infirmary the day of the accident had spread the news like wildfire. Harry, the thought came to my mind. Oh no, he had be awake in that room as well.

He turned to scrutinize me with a scowl. I could see he was partially forcing the cruelty but what his motivation was, remained unclear, "We are marked. Listen carefully."