The Cabin | D.M 18+

T H I R T Y - E I G H T

i cried writing this. im sorry.
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TW: Mature themes including but not limited to, torture, heartbreak and gore. Viewer discretion is advised.

- BELLE -

Questions.

So many bloody questions.

And no answers either. It caused chaos between the bones of my mind. As though a knitting needle had been forced inside through my ear canal.

Revoked loudness erupted and everyone stared. Draco was still positioned in the middle; no pedestal nor a throne yet the attention had been drawn to him as though a halo had been casted over his body.

"How unfortunate," Is the first thing Voldemort says after a stretched melancholy. "Terribly awful isn't it?" He addressed the audience.

Thomas found himself smirking. Curling his tongue on the inner cheek to the bottom of his ripped mouth. Secretly congratulating me for something I never knew I had done.

And just because Draco helped me control my panic, it did not signify that it would estimate and conclude the absolute worst outcomes. Right now my mind is bursting with blazes.

The what if's impenetrable and untouched, I shed all the terror and misfortune into my heart that slowly rose up my throat as did the rest of my stomach lining. The undeniable panic that pounded my heartbeat through my body was so immense I almost urinated on myself.

Not even embarrassment touched me briefly. I couldn't care less. Because I feel so isolated, so heartbroken and out of this world like I had been sucked out into space where not even dark matter could spaghettify my limbs and tear them apart.

It felt like I had been banished from the scrolls of history and destiny. And where I held power, I never felt so incapacitated.

So- manacled.

I was suffering. The walls of the world were caving in, second by second.

If what Severus said was true, then Draco's life was already menaced for death. Because Voldemort would seek any opportunity to cheat life and extend it.

However, now it made sense.

This had been the reason why Voldemort was desperate.

His task to find me, was to take the whiteness out of my life and replace it with his darkness. Turn me into a machine. Not just to breed out heirs for his own personal use, bring them into the world like Draco had, but to have my life and healing abilities for his own selfish use.

That was the difference between him and Draco.

Voldemort demanded it, craved it, so much so he'd send an army after me. Tortured my friends and family. Stop at nothing until he got what he wanted and stomped his foot like a bratty child if denied.

But Draco, on the other hand, rejected my aid many times. Always- he always refused.

When Draco first stole Voldemort's last horcrux, the ring, Riddle's craze must've dwindled him into insanity. But now that had been taken from him too.

I didn't want to believe it. Anything to avoid the possibility and off chance Draco would be killed in front me, because that would be a level of torture I wouldn't be able to survive through.

The journey we've had. The memories, fights and jokes. Everything he taught me from protecting my thoughts to escapism. The sheer confidence where he let me sprout like a red rose on a decadent spring morning.

Draco Malfoy made me flourish into the woman I had always wished to be.

Not my friends- not my family.