Murder to Malfoy - D.MALFOY

[40]

Ivy woke the following morning with a headache that could easily kill the world's largest mammal, and no she wasn't being dramatic about it. She woke to an empty house, which was good since it lacked noise that would cause the throbbing in her head to increase, but wasn't good in the sense that it left time for her mind to wander in all sorts of places. The majority of her thoughts, which came prominently while she sipped on a glass of juice, swirled around the events of the night previous. A ball of self-loathing filled with various other emotions built in her stomach and eventually had her kneeling against the cold tile of the bathroom, eradicating the juice from her stomach almost instantly. 

Actually, that was probably just the alcohol.

She had suspected a quiet day in bed, watching movies while returning to rehydrate herself so she didn't look so haggard when her parents got back the following morning (they had extended the trip due to an offer that was unrefusable and she did not mind one bit, since they rarely went away from the house.) That original plan for the day shattered when Meline knocked on her door, bringing the news that he had turned up out of the blue.

To begin with, it was so awkward between them that the air became sucked out of the room whenever they so much as looked at each other. Once they had both decided to ignore the tension, and he had taken some paracetamol for the headache he had, the awkwardness began to dissipate. They talked, not about last night, but about why he had turned up so suddenly and without cause. It seemed Lucius wasn't partially fond of how he had found his son in the morning, smelling of alcohol with the clear beginnings of a hangover. Then, once that conversation had passed, they did discuss the events of the night before. Both of them soon equated it to an accident, a drunken mishap that wasn't going to happen again. They would both go on with their lives and forget all about it.

Ivy, as the night arrived, found that the thought of him leaving wasn't one she favoured whatsoever. She liked the company, the constant knowledge that someone was there to talk to or just to momentarily push away any melancholy feelings that abruptly pushed through her mind. He favoured the idea of staying over too, not wanting to see Lucius again because of his foul mood. So she asked Meline to set up a guest room for him, one that was far away from her parent's rooms just in case they came home easier than planned.

-

She launched bolt right in bed, remnants of a scream brandishing from her throat with such intensity that she could physically feel her chest rumble. Being awoken from a bone-chilling dream in such a way was not unusual for her, yet the fact that it had happened all over again created some sort of surprise within her mind. They hadn't happened for such a long while now and she had thought, despite the lack of nicotine that usually blocked them, that they had finally decided to leave. It seemed not to be the case. She rubbed her clammy hands on the discarded duvet crumped at her feet before flicking the candles on her nightstand alight. She jumped when her frantic gaze turned to Malfoy, who stood in the door with his wand outstretched to probably fight off an intruder or something. She hoped he would not turn on the bright light, preserving the soft glow of candles to hide herself behind.

"Sorry," she apologised softly as he dropped the wand down, her throat hoarse as tears continued to cascade down her face. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Are you okay?" he asked, despite the clear sight in front of him that quite contradicted her response.

She nodded, fighting desperately to get the air back into her lungs. "Bad dream is all, I'm fine," she smiled fakely, lip faintly trembling.

"No you're not," he whispered back, walking over to her bed. With every step he took, another sight of her distress caught his attention, from the blankets pooled at her feet to the few droplets of stress sweat that glistened on her forehead. By the time he had sat down opposite her, she had broken down into sobs again that she could not control. Not once had she had such therapeutic of a cry after a nightmare like that, normally she would just pull herself together again and go back to sleep. It seemed this time her mind, and company, had other ideas.