The Cabin | D.M 18+

S E V E N T Y - S E V E N

This chapter is quite gory.

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- BELLE -

Ron was laying on the floor, spine flat on the ground, panting as if oxygen no longer served his lungs.

They were short gasps of a dog who had been confined in a tremendously hot box with no water or something to cool.

His peripheral vision was fixated on the sky, and the ability to hold onto himself seemed distorted.

If I'd guessed, Ron looked fried.

Eyes bulging outward, hair pointed in static waves and skin alabaster, he would've been mistaken for a corpse if it weren't for his bouncing chest.

I've never seen him more terrified before. Not even at the main battle of Hogwarts. Not at the Quidditch World Cup when Death Eaters first arrived, not even when Umbridge came to search the south west in search of traitors.

Right before him and Hermione left me behind to go to Temple Village.

When Draco takes notice of him, his tears instantly stop. His lips tighten into a flat line and the blockage of his mind is impenetrable. Not even I could get close.

"Draco," I warn, but my voice is barely a whisper, "Draco, please..."

And I know I could plead all I want, it wouldn't bring the justification of his actions. Not even I could stop him at this rate.

Ronald had gone too far too many times and Draco wasn't going to let him live past his mistakes.

There were bigger enemies to wrestle, but it seemed as if he had let him get away this time, it would be Ghost making the appearance. And I simply knew at that moment that all he had to do– was– let go.

Set the anger free and let him avenge.

Without a single breath lost, Draco stands from Fulgur's corpse and paces towards him. He yanks out his dagger from his upper thigh and until he reaches Ron's body, he's quickening his pace.

But then he moves slowly when the tip of his boot touches Ron's thigh, moving him limp as if to see whether he'd respond or not.

Draco tilts his head and a sinister grin pleases his cheeks.

I mentally slap the part of me that finds this attractive.

He climbs onto his lap. Rips Ron's robes apart where his undershirt is exposed. The position reminds me of when Draco ripped out Ratman's eyes.

It made me wonder if Weasley would meet the same destiny.

However, it seems as though Draco would do something far more painful. Memorable, like a platter of honour. A sacrifice for his own selfishness.

"You say you're all tough and bones, so evil and conniving, Weaselbee," Draco grunts, his voice is as deep as black matter, "but on the inside, you're nothing but a wimp. You're weak. A crybaby."

As I go to take a step forward, Zulema tightens her grip around my shoulders and places a hand on the back of my head, "I don't know what he's about to do, but I don't think you'll want to see it."

I scoff back, "I've seen him do much worse."

Zulema's brows rise up whilst her lips part. "...God bless your child and its bedtime stories."

Draco groans, causing our attention to be ripped back to him.

"When I say I'm going to end you, I really mean it. How about I expose you and show everyone the real stupid cunt you are on the inside?"