NEMESIS || Draco Malfoy

60

My mind was a mess; could hardly differentiate between my lefts and rights as I hurried down into the dungeons. The halls seemed loud, distant chatter and shrieked laughs echoing through them— I just needed some quiet.

I believed my dorm would suffice, and up until I got there, I forgot all about Malfoy's little warning before I left. Instead, my thoughts revolved around that vanishing cabinet of his.

It seemed he had been mending it— trying to do so ever since the beginning of term. It was the reason he spent his days and nights in the room of requirement, and it was probably the reason he'd been so busy for a long time now.

Though, as I rushed through the loud common room — fortunately, spotting the rest of my dorm in it — I thought to myself that it couldn't be much longer until he was done mending it; until it was fully functioning and could bring anyone in and out of the castle with ease.

I wondered who he'd bring. And I wondered if they'd come before that curse in Dumbledore's hand would kill him— before I could take credit for it.

Throwing the door to my dorm shut behind me and leaning against it immediately afterwards, head in my hands as my breath quickened, I realised all I had to do was kill Malfoy in order to get credit for Dumbledore's death eventually.

It was a plan so foolproof, as long as no one else was there to murder him, all I had to do was watch— be patient. And the problem would take care of itself, wouldn't it?

Without Draco Malfoy, nothing stood in the way of my family's life. And, while it was always abundantly clear to me that Malfoy was the root of all my problem, and I had tried to get rid of him many times, this one was different.

Before, I had always taken proactive measures to achieve my goal, and if those succeeded, I couldn't care less whether he was alive or dead. However, if I chose to wait for Dumbledore to die, I couldn't let Malfoy get there before that happened.

So, with that in mind, I knew I should kill him— convinced myself it was the right thing to do before I ever took a step away from the door. And yet, as soon as my eyes fell on the velvet jewellery box placed in the middle of my bed, I knew I couldn't.

As I stepped closer to it, my eyes not wavering from the small box, I thought back to all the other times I had arrived back here only to find one of his surprises on the drawer, my nightstand or my bed.

And I remembered all the times he must've felt the same way when I had set something up in his room. It was right then, in the noon of a sunny Tuesday, that I realised that, despite all my efforts, if I really wanted him dead, he would be dead by now.

A string of muttered curse words fled my lips at the thought, grumbling to myself as I fiddled the wand out of my pocket to scan the box for any deadly traps.

I did so for a while; keeping myself occupied to stop my mind from wandering back to my former realisation. I didn't have the nerve to think about the why's and how's of not murdering that boy when I struggled to find anything cursed about the object in front of me.

I checked every possibility; revelation charms, anti-disillusionment charms, and various incantations to figure out what was so deadly about the jewellery or the box before me.

But for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out.

Thirty minutes later, I deemed it safe.

Another ten of consideration, and I held the golden necklaces between my fingers, still twisting and turning it in every possible angle. My eyes couldn't divert, mesmerised by the golden chain, the small pearls accenting the simple beauty it radiated.

I sighed heavily, unsure what to do with it— what it meant and how to retaliate to a seemingly harmless gift.

And so, for a few moments, I just stared at it, getting used to the weight of it dangling off my finger. A simple, vigorous shake of my head snapped me out of the trance I had allowed myself into, quickly realising where my thoughts were taking me and absolutely not okay with it.

If he wanted psychological warfare — which is all this whole thing was — he'd get psychological warfare. I couldn't let him think this was anything but, and in order to do so, I had to seem unfazed by it; wear it like a normal piece of jewellery, like it was a gift from my father rather than Malfoy.

I swallowed thickly, my brows furrowing as I opened the clasp of the necklace to guide it around my neck, fiddling with it only for a couple of seconds afterwards in order to close it properly again.

It felt both cold and warm against my skin at the same time, a comforting feeling I didn't let myself revel in.

Instead, my eyes batted open, immediately falling on my own reflection in the glass, looking out into the black lake. The same reflection he had watched me cum in.

My eyes diverted in a sudden motion, and I stood on the other side of the room in front of the mirror only a few seconds later.

Head tilted, I admired the piece of jewellery in it, my fingers tracing the golden necklace absentmindedly, twirling the pearls on it between my fingers occasionally.

And with the comforting feeling of it against my bare skin, I could officially say I had never been more confused about my next step of action before.

So, while just an hour ago, I was sure and set on killing Malfoy, never was I less sure of anything in my life now. And it was driving me insane.