Come Back to Me(D.M.)

29. Hunted

Emotional Trauma, and Death of Character Ahead.
Don't kill me please, I love you all very much. Don't forget to vote<3
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Genevieve Malfoy

Dear Draco,

Today was the same as every other. I read a few books I found around the house, but all ones I've read before. How is life with your own cooking? I do hope you're eating, even if it taste like a dragon cooked it for you.

I love you,

Geneveive

I stood from my desk, handing the letter to Zila. She had started coming around the same time everyday, always ready to deliver my letter to Draco. It had been 10 days sine I'd sent the first letter to him, and since then, we'd been talking everyday.

I'd stopped writing in code, assured that no one was able to track Zila thanks to the wards I had doused the owl in.

It would only take about seven hours for him to respond to my letter, so I had lots of time to kill for the 20 minutes of joy I'd be waiting for.

Today, I wasn't going to let myself mope around. I wasn't going to let myself bore to death.

Opening the front door, I stepped onto the porch. I headed to the field behind the house, where the wildflowers bloomed year round.

The purple buds swayed around my waist as the wind pushed them around.

My body just stood stagnant, almost frozen in the beauty of it all.

It was untouched land, so unbelievably perfect. Not a spec of darkness had tainted it, all of the flowers standing tall, never wilting- even at my touch. I hadn't a clue how long I'd been standing there, but I knew the sun had set hours ago, and it was time to head home.

On the walk home, the air around me shifted bitter. Everything seemed to grow darker, more untamed than it had been moments before.

Arriving at the house, Zila was there waiting for me. I let her inside with me, and let the smallest laugh slip at how she fluttered her wings. A beautiful creature, she truly was.

Grabbing the letter from her beak, I sauntered my way up the stairs and shut my bedroom behind me.

Receiving his letters was always the best part of my day. It was the only time I ever felt like I was with him. Reading over it, I admired the way he curved the slash of his 't's, and the way he wrote my name.

He wrote about the happenings in the outside world, and that Harry was hunting Horcruxes. My mothers death was mentioned, as the hands of Potter himself.

I knew she had to die eventually, I just wished I had the chance to say goodbye. She was never the greatest mother, but she had saved me more than once, freed me from the hands of punishment.

She didn't deserve to die.

My tears hadn't even had the chance to fall before a crash was heard downstairs. I stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the chair that I had been sat on seconds ago.