𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒫𝓇ℴ𝓂𝒾𝓈ℯ𝒹 𝒪𝓃ℯ | 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 |

#20 Septumsempra - For Enemies

„This is who I am, Tiara.", Draco whispered, before he turned back around to face the sink again. His fingers clenching around the edge to the point his knuckles turned white.

I heard him sobbing. The most hurtful sound ever crossing my mind, as he cut loose. The boy didn't want me to see, he hid his face as the muffling whimpers left his mouth.

The unbearable view mixed with the sound echoing around the bathroom snapped me back.

The blackness in my head, the flow of thoughts and excruciating fear crashed back in with the exhale of the breath I was holding.

„That's not who you are.", I whispered, because I wasn't trusting my voice.

I felt like since Maribel died, Draco and I were in a downward spiral, which we couldn't escape from.

And I felt like I was failing everything I touched.

I wanted to protect my sister, but couldn't. She was murdered in my arms. I wanted to shield her from Voldemort and his allegiance and I didn't notice that she was in front row of walking straight into the battle which would cost her life.

And I wanted to protect Draco. Because I was so afraid he could get hurt with simply being around me. I was a magnet for torture and hurting, I was a messenger of death. And while I tried to find a solution to keep him save, he was right in the middle of the battlefield. 

Recruited.

Became a death eater.

The mark on his arm forever, just like the scars on mine.

„It is, Tiara.", Draco spun around quicker than I could react.

"No, I know you.", I said, while he looked at everything but me. Debating if it was the right thing to do.

I did a step. Draco was mirroring in the other direction until his body crashed against the sink. The boy looked like a cornered prey, although his eyes were dagger points once he caught my gaze from time to time. 

I simply couldn't be angry at him, even though I had a lot of reasons to be. But deep down I knew that this wasn't his decision. Just like it wasn't his mothers. Or my mother's. Or mine.

And the only thing I could notice in that moment was his heartbreaking fight against the tears.

I quickly reached forward, grabbed the arm on which the black image burned under the so innocent, white fabric and stroked my finger over it.

Draco flinched, crumbled his features, but didn't pull away. He let me stroke the fabric, do a step to come nearer and let my arms came around his body.

He needed a few seconds to let the touch sink in, but as he realized that I wasn't going anyway, he pulled me in even more.

His arms tightened around my neck, his face buried into my hair as he began to cry. His sobs subsiding, but I knew he did. And with my heartbeat hammering out of my chest along with his, I felt like I would disappear into nothing if he ever let go.

"I'm so sorry.", he whispered, just as shaky as my breath was. "I just wanted to protect you. I'm sorry I can't be a better for you."

"Stop saying that.", I mumbled into his chest, tightening my grip along with my words, to make him stop torturing himself.

"He promised to help my father.", Draco then cut through the following silence without any intention to pull back from the hug.

I lifted my head from his chest, reached up to his cheek to stroke the tears away as he looked down fearful. Every part of his expression was showing the struggle he had in telling me just that small detail.