(1) 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 | d. m

Chapter twenty-eight

I woke up feeling as if I had died and come back to life. My insides were burning, festering as if I was a walking corpse, with no perception of time or place. As I opened my eyes carefully and with difficulty because of the trauma, I realised I wasn't in the same place I had previously been. I had been lying on that cold, wet, wooden floor with no intention of getting up, and now I was standing, albeit unsteadily, with the souls of my feet touching ground. I felt I was in a drunkened state, barely aware of my own existence, and I couldn't for the life of me make out where I was.

"I'm sorry", I heard a voice echo in the darkened room. I knew to whom it belonged, as I had spent countless nights with my skin brushing up against his. However, my feelings towards this particular person had drastically changed. I recognised the voice, but not the person behind it. He had chosen his path, and I had chosen mine.

"You're sorry?! What about?!", I found myself cry out until my throat would no longer make sound. I was, of course being sarcastic, and knew very well what he was trying to apologise for, although it was a very poor apology. I had been burned by him before, and I had been drawn back in multiple times now, yet a part of me wanted to believe that he could change. That the boy who stood in front of me now, would walk away from this twisted and evil game. But of course, being the forgiving and naive person that I was, I was reeled back in. This time however, I wouldn't be persuaded so easily. "Sorry about the fact that you erased my memories?! Or that you threw me and my friends to the dogs, resulting in me being tortured by your aunt?! Or maybe you're sorry that you've betrayed me countless times now?! Or the fact that you're a Death Eater?!". My throat seemed very sore now, as a result of all the screaming and shouting. I had so many things I wanted to tell him, so much anger boiling inside of me, that I couldn't contain myself anymore. I just had to get it out. I was shaking, tears streaming down my blood-stained face.

"Yes! I'm sorry about everything. If I had known all of this would happen, I wouldn't have–", he said, stepping out of the shadows, revealing his pale face.

"WHAT?! What wouldn't you have done?! Tell me!". I exclaimed, wanting badly to get some answers. Answers to how and why he had fooled me, made me trust my own emotions. The distance between us seemed to grow more and more, despite the fact that I was now getting closer to were he was standing.

"I wouldn't have talked to you. I would've distanced myself, tried harder to ignore you, ", his voice started to break even more, tears coming to life in his sad eyes. No matter how much I hated him at that moment, I still couldn't fight the feeling of wanting to wipe away at them myself. There was a brief silence, and I thought for a second that he was done talking, but he wasn't. "And I did try". He wiped away the snot hanging from his nose, trying his best not to look me directly in the eyes, as to keep me from seeing the tears as they streamed down his face. He looked particularly handsome, even though he seemed just as broken up about everything as I was, if not more. "I tried hard. I tried to make you hate me. I thought if I treated you the way I treat everyone else, you would see how messed up I am–"

"–and I wouldn't want to get close to you". The realisation of how different everything would be, had he not talked to me that first day. We had indeed hated each other at first, but somehow I had found the impulse to  talk to him, no matter how badly he might have treated me at times. It might have been a very toxic relationship, if you could even call it that, but we both seemed to have been curious enough to keep coming back to each other, no matter the reason. I found myself trying to remember what it could've been like, meeting and growing close to Draco Malfoy during my first year at Hogwarts. I knew in my heart that what he told me had happened between us was true, but there was still a big worm hole were my memories of him and me should've been. I remembered meeting him, and I remembered our shared hatred for one another, I just couldn't seem to remember falling in love with him earlier than I had believed. Shit, I'm in love with him, I thought to myself, nagging at my own brain for the realisation.

"Yes. But my mission failed, just like everything else. And when I realised we were getting close and my feeling towards you had changed, I completely freaked out. I-I didn't know what to do. And then I was given the task to kill you".

"Wait...", I realised something that changed my whole perspective on him and his actions. "That's why you erased my memories? You did it to protect me, didn't you?". I was beginning to warm up to the idea of us being more than enemies, people on the opposite sides of the battle field.

"Yes". He looked up, his eyes meeting mine finally. I gave him a half-hearted, but reassuring smile. His eyes were still sad, and I could feel, just by looking into them, just how much he had been through. He was a fighter, not a bad person. Just a person bad things happened to.

That's when he fell into my arms. It happened so suddenly, yet a part of me was prepared for it. It felt like I had been waiting for this moment ever since I first laid eyes on him, I just didn't know it. He was a broken soul, someone who had endured terrible, horrible things due to his family and the people around him. Finally, he seemed to have found the courage to let it all show. I might have caught a glimpse of the true person hiding behind those sad eyes, but this was unlike anything I had ever seen or felt before. His whole body had somehow gone limp, and he trusted me to catch him as he fell. The tears that had formed in his eyes, were now streaming down his face as if he had finally been given permission to be vulnerable. To show his true colors, the person behind the mask.

"I-I'm sorry...", he said, his words barely audible as he kept breathing heavily. It was as if he trusted me to keep him safe, but still not demanding anything from me in return. Just for me to hold him. For me to hold him tight, and never let go.

"I'm sorry", he repeated. I stroked the side of his face, trying my best to wipe away the tears on his cheeks before they made their way to his lips.

"I know". I placed a comforting kiss on his forehead. We stayed like that, our bodies interlocked, for a good few minutes before being interrupted by another's voice.

"Well isn't this is romantic!"