The Minster's Daughter- Draco Malfoy

pissing post.

"Draco, what are you doing?" she repeated, voice breaking.

She stood there holding various pieces of paper, her handbag over her forearm and her eyes trained on me, waiting for my explanation. Her hair was shorter than it had been in the morning, and instead of sitting near the bottom of her arse, it was just just beyond her elbows, in perfect curls. But we weren't there to talk about her hair. I needed an explanation. Fast.

"Umm, well I-" I could've jumped from Dumbledore's office window.

"Draco I'm waiting. Because from what I can see, you asked to be my boyfriend," she threw the papers in her hands on the bed then looked at the Muggle watch on her hands, "not even nine hours ago, now you're suddenly entitled to read post of mine that happens to have a broken bloody seal!" she shouted. She looked beyond pissed, and from what she said, it sounded like she hadn't read it herself.

"Have you seen what this sick bastard's writing to you? Why didn't you tell me about these?" I seethed.

"Yes, Draco, I did bloody tell you about them! I didn't open it on purpose, the wax broke. I haven't read any of them because I didn't want him to have the satisfaction!" she exasperated, fists balled at her sides. Merlin, if she could throw a hard punch when she was calm, I'd hate to be in her bad books when she's angry. Oh, wait! I AM.

"Well, forgive me, but I didn't think they would be like this, or I would've said something a while ago! I'm going to assume that this is the worst, because I couldn't imagine getting sicker. He's telling you to let him fucking rape you for Merlin's sake!" I shouted. She flinched a little when I slammed the paper onto the bedside and I shattered internally. "No, don't do that," I cooed, almost letting a tear slip.

"Do what, Draco? Flinch because you're overreacting over something I shouldn't be at the back end of? Oh, I'd like to, but you won't ever give me the opportunity! I haven't bloody fucking read them, so how would I know how sick they are? Only you would know, seeing as you're suddenly allowed to open my PISSING POST!"

She really was fucking fuming. I'd never seen her so.... utterly enraged. This version of angry Audrey wasn't the sexy one I had once got a fat boner over. This one was fucking scary.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you need to do something about these! You said you won't give him the satisfaction, but that doesn't mean you don't have to not read them! These letters are regarding you. Just don't reply. Look, you need to do something about these," I sighed, but instantly recognised my mistake.

"YOU THINK I WANT TO FUCKING READ THOSE?!"

"No, I didn't exactly say that, I-" I stammered, while she stomped over, slapping me aside while she pushed to grab the letter, followed by the ones in the drawer.

"Here," she pushed them all to my chest, "You fucking read them if you're so bloody desperate," she spat before storming to the bathroom, slamming the door. In my hands, there must have been fifteen letters at least. 

I heard the bath running and I slumped on her bed, putting the letters beside me. Reading them would prove her point, not like it hadn't been proven already. However cruel and wrong they were, I realised that she felt like she couldn't do anything. The more I sought for a solution, the more I realised how trapped she must really have felt.

If she brought them to anyone in school, he could say that it wasn't him. I knew the Carrows had lots of human maids, so he could easily blame any of them, and claim they had a history in St. Mungo's, because Lord knows their recording system is bollocks. He could even say they're fake.

If she wrote back in retaliation, her experience in that house by herself would worsen, and she'd really be giving him the satisfaction of knowing it got to her.