20. Found

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Emotional Trauma Ahead

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Genevieve Malfoy

Time had become something that was just held on a clock. The days ticked by, and I had no way of telling what day, or month it even was.

Everyday after my interrogations, I cried every drop of water out of my body. I cried until I became sick, and then I'd cry until I passed out from exhaustion and hunger.

I knew I'd been here awhile. The way my wrists frailer, and my skin ashed in color proved my thought. I was going to die here- whether they killed me or I starved to death. It had been an accepted fact a few sessions in.

My mind was deteriorating along with my body. Sometimes I begged for death in my sleep, others I begged for even a painful one. Dying seemed better than what I was going through without Draco here to save me.

Speaking of Draco.

He wasn't coming to find me. Neither was Theodore. I had finally pushed them both over the edge with the argument we had, which I couldn't even remember clearly.

That's another thing. My memory seemed to slip from me. I couldn't remember the argument, how it had started, how I had got here- it was all slipping away with the rummaging they were doing inside my head.

That along with my humanity.

My trance on the floor had been snapped by the sound of the door clanking open, and slow, calculated footsteps. I met the eyes of Fenrir, who was then followed by Voldemort's son, Tobias.

He was the one that handled me. His dark hair swept across his forehead, and in his hand, his wand was clenched so tightly that his knuckles bleached.

My breath hitched every time I was submitted to his presence. It shifted the room cold, but I could never take my eyes off of him. We had tension, and it weighing on him.

Me? I couldn't care less. If I was ever going to be out of here alive, I'd have Draco.

He was all I'd ever need.

"Fenrir, leave." He spoke, his voice so smooth- yet harsh enough to kill with a simple word. The dog of a man left the room, and Tobias walked closer to me, his steps agonizingly slow.

He stopped not a foot from me, and he lifted his wand to stroke the underside of my jaw. The pressure he applied was enough to dislocate it if he happened to hit the right spot.

As he muttered a few words, I felt him enter my mind and all I could think of was this:

If I ever get the chance, I'm gonna kill this son of a bitch.
••••••••••

Draco Malfoy

It had been three months. Three fucking months, since I had seen her.

Spoke to her, touched her.

Three months away from the girl I was learning to love.

I had been staying with my mother at her safe location, too much a wreck to be by myself. I was drunk when I wasn't looking for her- which left about two hours each night to drink my liver to failure, pass out, have a nasty hangover- and then do the whole day over again.

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