"I'm going to fucking ruin you."
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The Dark Lord conquers the wizarding world, Harry Potter is dead. Muggleborns are slaughtered. Halfblood's are shoved into imprisonment, conditioned to alter their beliefs and dictated to worship Purebloods.
Y/N Y...
D A Y E I G H T / F O U R T E E N «« she's been fooled? »
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He's tracing soap through the follicles of my hair, lathering a thick layer of white into the crevices of my scalp. The familiarity of his shower — it seeps into my brain, spinning the first moment of our heartfelt intimacy into the breath of my lungs.
"When are you going to let me open my gift?" I question, turning my body to confront his, the scorching hot water flooding my hair and licking down my back. "You said tomorrow yesterday, it's today."
"If you want something, you have to work for it." Draco says, his left hand stringing though the strands of his hair, which has developed into a darker tone in an aftereffect of it soaking the liquids. "Don't you know the rules of success?"
I frown, my fingers reaching to trace the muscles of his abdomen as the steam clings chillingly onto the surface of my splashed skin. "Draco, you were born into wealth and you basically represented the face of pure-bloods during our time at Hogwarts. You have never had to work a day in your life, you're already successful — what are you talking about?"
"You don't think I have struggles?" His breath is threaded in an expression of dismay, his tongue rolling on the inner flesh of his cheek.
The spray continues to rain heavily onto my scalp, the strands of my hair soaking in the warmth. "By struggles you mean getting upset over Professor Trelawney not letting you leave class 15 minutes early to pick up your freshly ironed robes from your personal house-elfs?"
"You remember tha— wait, is that what you think of me?" He questions, a drop of an authoritative hint weaved in his tone, water sliding down his pink lips as he spoke. "You think I'm rich and entitled, you don't think I don't go though similar things you do?"
"You're a pureblood, of course you haven't gone through similar things as me." I claim, reverting my hands from the touch of his skin as my view peers up at him. "You haven't been thrown into a cell and tortured for days because of your blood, you haven't fallen in love with someone with the sole reason being the fact that he saved you from that horrid cell— you're wealthy, rich, and you have a line of girls willing to marry you and have your children, of course we don't go though the same struggles, you barley have struggles— you're set for life."
He scoffs, wiping the moisture off the surface of his dewed face. "You've changed — it's just as I expected."
"Changed what? This has been my opinion for years, pure-blood individuals are the desired. They make us feel bad. I mean, look at the fucking world today, who's group is detained? Who's group has their brains fried for the purpose of re-population?" I question, shoving the glass door open whilst my free hand grasps a nearby towel, stepping my feet from the threshold of the frame. The material of the cloth draped below my arms absorb the moisture from my soaked skin. "You think you can give me a fucking bracelet— whisper all these nice things to me and I'll suddenly get on my knees for the pure-blood kind?"
Draco yanks an identical towel from the bureau above the glass of his shower, " in the past, you've said all my struggles were justifiable. I— you said my problems were viable, you said they were important to you as well." He wraps the absorbing fabric around his hips, tucking in the ends to allow it to hook onto him without a grip.
"When the hell did I say that?" I reply, venturing towards the brass knob of the door. "I don't know what kind of fantasy you're living in but I think I would remember if I said anything that went against my beliefs." The temperature between my fingers and the handle differs vastly. After dampening myself in scorching hot waters, the cold material of the knob results in the rattling of the blood in my veins as I swing the entryway open, nearly shrieking at the two people planted directly past the threshold.
Pansy grins, her lips widening from ear to ear. "Lucius told us to fetch Draco, something about sorting files? Records?"
"Did you and Draco shower together?" Axel questions, a mischievous expression plastering onto his face as Pansy drags him from the frame of the steam source.
"More arguing rather than showering." Draco mutters, utilizing the displayed mirror and a wide tooth comb to style his soaked hair. "You know, I thought I was gonna redeem myself from the last time we were in the shower together— I wanted to fuck or something but no, you wanted to whine about how the world is so unfair."
"So, yesterday was the only day you decided to be nice to me, correct?" I question, a sliver of my bottom lip tucked beneath my teeth for a constant flow of solace.
Pansy huffs, her back hammering into Draco's mattress as her arms and legs spread out in a flat position. "Oh wow, Mr. Malfoy being nice — that's new. How nice was he?"
"I would like to know as well." Axel's tone elevates in a measly degree of interest, thudding his base onto the bed while he crosses his solid legs.
"Y/N, shut the fuck up." Draco speaks, his tone differentiating in an irritated tone, permitting me to ponder where the hand holding, arm wrapping, neck kissing, Draco went. It is as if his personality is split in two, pieces of both peeling into an undesirable man.
"Wait, let me guess." Pansy sits upwards, snickering as she provided a glance towards Axel's direction. "Y/N give me a chance, I'll be so good to you." She emits in a mocking tone.
"The stars would be envious of you." The boy with green stained eyes says in a voice identical to Pansy's, laughing as he held his gut.
She notices the disdained articulation slammed onto my face, "Y/N, he says that to everyone— he said that to me back when I liked actual men, he said that to Sofia Fairdose a few weeks ago and I'm pretty sure he said it to Guinevere as well." There isn't a hatred embedded in her tone, sorrowful eyes trailing down my figure as if I were a poor naive individual.
Draco slides past my body prior to allowing me to confront him. Instead, he strides to Axel's slumped body, wacking his across his forehead. "Do you ever shut the fuck up? What the hell was the point of exposing me like that?"
"Ow— you fucker," Axel presses the pain on his skin, pointing to the girl to his left. "She started it, I only continued her sentence."
"So it's true," betrayal smashed through the atoms in my body, a sense of treachery seeping through my skin. It's as though Draco's hands have broken through my breastbone and his fingers are playing with the vessels of my heart. "God— I let myself believe that someone like you could say all those kind things."
He's stepping towards me, reaching a hand towards my cheek. "Y/N—"
"—No, you're not touching me." I say, venturing my pace towards the exit of his room. "You're never touching me again."
His tone shifts from sympathetic to plain presumptuous, as though I am an inconvenience. "That's right, run back to Vance like you always do."
