"I'm going to fucking ruin you."
-
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...
The legs of my mind trail around the thought of perceiving the world equivalent to what I previously believed when I fell into this slumber.
He is still here, he has fallen asleep— his cheek is pressing onto the midsection of my left arm. The scent of his tea tree shampoo is infused within the blond locks of his hair. I desire to capture this moment to tuck the fine features of his face into my pocket, just for me, only me.
Draco's pink lips are slightly parted open, he is so calm, so peaceful.
I am angry.
I smack him on the side of his head.
"The fuck was that for?!" He's jolted up, his hair wrecked in a rough frizz. "What— what the fuck you incompetent woman."
"You left me to rot in a damn cell!" I exclaim, observing the setting of our location, I realize he has moved us from St. Mungos to his bedroom— this fact only feeds into my fury. "You are cruel and I never want to see you again."
He scoffs, glancing off to the side in dismay. "If I released you from that damn cell you would've been killed on the spot, your entire body would've melted into ground tissue."
"Well— well, that's not an excu— wh-what are you doing?" My breath hitches as he is climbing onto the bed, the presence of his body hauling across mine as he plops his back adjacent to me on the mattress. "What did Vance do to me for 4 years?"
"Nothing bad, I made sure of that." His voice smooths the rough edges of my mind. "You were unconscious for most of it. He drained a vial of blood every week, tested every drop in his lab but he didn't lay a hurtful hand on you. Vance did a number of experiments but it was all within the borders of your mind and between your pain tolerance— he wanted to do so much more but I managed to stop him."
I inch my body from him, "wow so heroic."
"You're not mad at me, you're mad at yourself. I knew this would happen." He claims, hoisting his body with the utilization of his lower arm, hovering a partial portion of his body above mine. "You don't want to admit you're wrong, you don't want to admit that Vance— the man you thought you loved, is a horrible person. You're afraid to admit that even after I forced you to leave me, you still had feelings for me."
