I awoke in complete darkness. The feeling of nausea hitting the back of my throat, and my vision blurred. I felt faint and with no conception whatsoever of where I was. I could barely move a muscle, and my breathing was uneven, causing me to panic even more.
As I managed to tilt my head slightly upwards, attempting to focus my eyes, I soon realised —the chance of me getting out of whatever this place was— was slim, and that my current state of mind did nothing but stress me out even more. I came to the conclusion that my hands and feet were chained, probably to the floor, and that whoever left me here — didn't plan on letting me go any time soon.
The room was cold, the only source of warmth being my black and blue Ravenclaw robes hanging loosely around my body. I was shivering, despite it being in the middle of spring.
Or was it?
I had no idea how long I had been gone for and no recollection whatsoever of how I got there. For all I knew, I could have been gone for a day, a week, a month even. There was no way for me to know, and my pounding heart bore witness to my fear that I couldn't seem to get rid of. The panic took over my whole being, and I was sweating and shivering, all at once.
"Hello?! Is—is someone out there?!", I finally managed to force my voice out from my lungs. "Help me, please!".
The shackles that sat around my wrists and ankles and chained me to the floor had already started to dig their way into my skin, resulting in red, painful marks that would surely leave permanent scars. As I cried out into the darkness, feeling my body going numb from the trauma, I heard a familiar voice echoing from somewhere in the room.
"I'm afraid your attempts at salvation are futile. In here, I am the only company you will have, and therefor the only one who will hear you".
It was in no way difficult for me to figure out to whom the voice belonged. I had heard it many times before, and knew just what that person was capable of.
"Why are you doing this?! What do you want?!", I screamed til my voice became hoarse. I felt a mixture of emotions, fear and panic taking over, but mostly, I was determined.
Determined to find a way out of there.
Determined to get back to him.
Because all though it had been weeks since I last saw him, and although I had almost lost all hope of him ever coming back — I still loved him. So much. I loved him, and I realised then and there, that I wouldn't be able to live the rest of my life without him. I barely survived the time spent alone in that house.
I realised, that I needed to at least try and get him back, even if it meant fighting my way out of the place which I had been taken to. I had to at least try and fight for him, for us, for a future worth having, and that meant getting the hell out of there.
However, as I tried to free myself from the restraints, they only seemed to dig deeper into my already fragile skin, and the voice I heard seemed to grow closer, taunting me with its words.
"You can try and try, but you won't be able to free yourself. I have made sure of that.". The voice began again.
"Now, if you would stop your struggling, I would like to have a civilised conversation—".
Whom ever kept me locked up didn't have to say any more, and as he turned on the light, my fears were confirmed.
Lucius Malfoy.
***
24 hours earlier
I fell asleep wishing I'd never wake up alone again. I wanted him near me, I needed him close, and for a split second or two, just before falling asleep — I thought he was back. I thought I had gotten my wish.
But of course, he wasn't. It was only my imagination playing tricks on me. I wanted it to be the truth so badly, that my brain tricked me into believing it actually was. That was probably the only reason that I ever managed to fall asleep at night, because without the smallest speck of hope, I would go crazy thinking about how things could've been.
What if he never Obliviated me?
What if we were never paired up in Potions class?
What if we never kissed?
What if I stayed away?
The only thing worse than the pain of missing him, was just that: those few seconds of thinking things were back to normal.
Whatever 'normal' was.
Those moments of something close to happiness, of hope, of harmony.
Those moments could break me just as easily. Because then I'd realize that nothing of it was real. That nothing was back to normal.
That he was really gone.
As I awoke in the night, shivering from the cold wind sweeping in through the open window, I, per usual, believed myself to be back with him. I awoke in complete trance, and for a few blissful seconds, I thought I could finally be happy. That I wasn't trapped in this house, waiting for my lovers' return. That I wasn't utterly terrified, only days - perhaps hours away — from being killed by the murderous lunatic known as Bellatrix Lestrange. I could finally let out the breath I had been holding in and I wasn't paranoid. Not like I would normally be.
It didn't take long however, for my feelings to shift and for me to realise none of it was real. Because I wasn't safe, and I wasn't back with Draco. Bellatrix was still out there, and so was Voldemort.
As the realisation hit me, so did the need for fresh air. So I tiptoed out of the bedroom, slipping on a robe and a pair of bunny slippers that Draco gifted to me after we got (back) together, (before everything went downhill.).
The outdoors were particularly chilly for a spring night, and the moon hung low in the sky, guiding my path as I sat down on the steps of the front door. I tightened the robe around my waist, trying to warm myself and as I did, I found an unopened pack of cigarettes.
I was never a big smoker, but I would occasionally have a drag or two at parties. The parties held at Beauxbatons were anything but wild, however, I was pretty young when I was first offered a cigarette. Fleur strongly advised me to not accept, but being the insecure girl I was, I couldn't say no. I guess you could say I was easily persuaded back then.
"Fuck it", I said under my breathe, taking a cigarette, placing it between my index finger and my middle finger and using a lighter (that was also, conveniently enough, in the pocket of the robe) to light it. Before I had the chance to inhale the smoke I knew wasn't good for me, I was caught off guard by a male voice, calling my name.
"Delaney Ross. Alone in the night, with no one left to protect you".
"Who's there?", I asked, but before I heard any reply—
everything went black.
YOU ARE READING
(1) 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 | d. m
Fantasia(Previously named 'Marked for death') When I was seventeen, I learned what love truly meant. Love is waking up in the morning for your first thought to be of that one person. Love is that feeling in your stomach that you get whenever he or she looks...
