Unbound

chapter two.

Draco had expected the Order to take days to come back to him with a decision.

He had left in such a hurry he had to contact Severus soon after he landed back in his old room at Malfoy Manor and realized his mistake. He had demanded Granger. He didn't mean to demand her. Yes, he wanted a challenge, but he wanted her willing.

He called for Topsy.

"Can you pop over to Severus's and tell him and the other man there that I want the girl willingly? Willing, Topsy, that's very important. Please stress the importance of willing."

He felt out of breath and absolutely ridiculous. He didn't mention her name to the house elf, but he felt as if she somehow knew anyway. Why did he always have to make everything harder for himself?

"Of course, Master Malfoy. I is popping over and is saying Master wants the girl willing." She repeated back to him. She popped away after Draco nodded sharply.

He scrunched his nose and pinched the bridge of it, basking in his idiocy and arrogance that let him leave Spinner's End without mentioning the most imperative part of his whole demand.

No, not demand.

Request.

Sure, he wanted Granger to be his, or to - at the very least - be around him so he could rile her up every so often. But he knew firsthand how horrible it was to be forced into something with little to no willingness or say in the matter. He did not want her to despise him, although, thinking about it, she most likely already did.

He would hate him if he were her.

He turned towards his overly large bed and sat on the edge, staring at the grand three drawer chest in front of him, wondering how the Order would take his offer. How she would take his offer.

Suddenly everything seemed so incredibly ridiculous.

He rarely doubted himself. He was so sure in everything he did and went for it head-on. It was a quality that not many had and it is also what propelled him so quickly up Death Eater ranks. He was willing to take risks where others were not.

Why did he care what she thought? Really, this was a bargain offer for the Order, and she'd be quite stupid not to take it. Yet, as much as he despised the idea of himself thinking about her, he couldn't help his mind from slowly creeping towards the thoughts of her.

He hardly had the energy or motivation to apparate out of the Manor that contained such painful memories attached and back to his typical nighttime residence. Instead, he simply changed out of the simple button-up and trousers he wore before he climbed underneath the dark green sheets of the bed he has had since he was a child. He simply kicked off his dress shoes and ran a hand through his hair, breathing in the desire to sleep and breathing out the anxiety he felt remain in the back of his chest.

It was only half-past four in the afternoon when Draco shut his eyes and finally found sleep.

But it was Draco. Sleep was never truly peaceful.

...

Draco's consciousness slipped and he felt himself running - fast, so fast - down the corridor of the Lestrange Manor.

He had been called and apparated into the Manor when he heard the screaming. Something was wrong. He felt it deep in his stomach.

It was hot. Way too hot than an average day at the peak of summer. It wasn't even summer. His stomach twisted tighter in response to this thought.