"All I wished for was to not be a Slytherin. Pure blood supremacy was woven into the material of those jade coloured ties and I would rather strangle myself with one than wear it."
After returning from her time spent on the run, Lyra, unruly, sarcas...
AN: smut warning Apologies it's only my 2nd time writing smut so please be nice I'm scared lmao. Hope you all enjoy❤️
Restore and rebuild and remake
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We apparated into Grimauld Place as the sun was beginning to rise. I was nauseous with the smell of death, my clothes clinging to my sweaty body, blood-drenched and torn.
Malfoy's face was gritty, his eyes far far away somewhere, as though he had cast his mind away, to stop the memories of hauling bodies into the great hall from leaving some kind of impression there. The boys face was flecked with dirt and embers and blood and filth. And even with the horrible substances that lay upon his smooth pale skin, his face was still so familiar. So perfectly symmetrical to the way I had remembered it every night for endless months on end. My hands were cold against this flushed cheeks as I held them. His strong jaw, his blush lips, every pale freckle, every groove of his jaw, everything was the same. And what a comfort it was. Even the scar from when he and Theo first decided they were man enough to shave, scampering off to the prefect bathrooms to cut up their cheeks in an attempt to make something of themselves that they were not. It was just as I needed it to be.
"I'll get us something to eat." Draco said, his voice rough as though he had been screaming for hours. He went to stand up but I reached out a hand for him.
My head shook. How could I stomach something after that? I had already vomited more times in the past five hours than in my entire life put together. In fact, I was sure every morsel of food I had ever consumed was brought up on the remains of that battlefield. My throat still ached and my stomach lurched at the thought of purely bringing up water and phlegm once all the food was gone, heaving until nothing came up at all.
Taurus lay his head on Ophelia's lap, her hand absentmindedly running through his bloodcrusted hair as we sat on the cold stone floor of the kitchen. Elio sat with his head in his hands. He had not spoken while we helped do what needed to be done once the killing was over. Willow and Theo sat together, and he held her so tightly I doubted anything would be able to cleave them apart in this moment. Pansy had come back with us. And she was yet to speak also. I tried to image what it was like for her, to watch your parents kill your friends before your very eyes. My parents had been at the battle but not in the front lines, not in the midst of the fighting. Her dark hair sat just at her shoulders and she wore her school uniform still, just as Theo and Draco did. Her parents were dead. She had watched both of them die, not reaching out to stop their deaths or mourning their bodies. I didn't say anything, Draco would tell me later. Blaise lit a cigarette but did not speak. He only blew a cloud of smoke into the air, watching it as it faded into nothingness before taking a deep inhale once more.
"Daphnes father wanted you dead, Nott." Pansy finally spoke, breaking the thick silence that had strung between us for a good 40 minutes, with even heavier words.
