Villain's Love || Draco x OC

(16)

(Mara's POV)
You know that shock that hits you when someone scares you? You know that shock you feel when someone says or does something that just sends chills down your spine? Makes your stomach twist? And the moment when a word just strikes at your weak point- and you can no longer hold the tears in?

That's how I feel now.

My mind can't even process what Draco has told me.

Father.. Killed Mother and Teresa?

No.

He isn't my father.

He's Voldemort.

The dark lord.

I'm not going to associate myself with him.

I can no longer do that.

I once thought that me following Voldemort's commands was a disadvantage for me. Now it will be a detriment for him.

Draco does his best to support me. He's hugging and holding me tight, but his touch can not embrace my anger and seek for revenge- I remain tense under his grasp, and he can feel my squaring shoulders.

"Mara.." He looks up at me. Fear wraps his gaze. "What are you going to do-"

I'm going to kill him. Help him reach the same level as victory then watch him stumble after I push him down and waste away years of work. Taste the steel flavour of blood, hear the satisfying squench after a sword is released from flesh. Laugh when his body falls to the ground, the green hue of the unforgivable killing curse vanishing into thin air after it strikes the target down.

"Nothing," I whisper, remaining calm. "Nothing..."

He embraces me, holding me tighter. I can feel him tremble beneath his calm façade. My fingers brush his smooth blond hair- I close my eyes, let myself relax, but my mind spins like a gear, preventing me from clearing my mind.

"Don't lie to me," he whispers. "Nothing in my dictionary means 'something but you don't need to know.'"

"It's not like that," I mumble back, looking at my own hand resting on his upper back. I pull back, kiss his cheek, stand up- I've got some sort of a plan. The execution is rather blunt, but it'll do.

"Mara, love, don't do something you'll feel remorseful over," Draco guides. "You don't want to suffer the consequences of this issue you're bringing up."

I pause, contemplate it. I give him a thoughtful look of reconsideration, then walk out of his room. I can hear him sigh behind me, but I don't need his permission to do what I need to do. I understand where he's coming from- it warms my heart and soul to know that he cares for me, and he's thinking of the consequences for both his and my sake. He needs that sort of thinking when in situations like this. Despite me second thinking my recklessness, I continue to move forward.

The second I storm into Tom's and Mattheo's room, the two look up at me. Both notice my urgency and gesture for me to tell them with the tip of their head and a curious twinkle in their eyes. I avoid looking at Tom, a bad feeling bubbling in the pits of my stomach. I watch him watch me sit down in front of them. While they make space for me on the bed, I sit on the bed frame, my legs slightly dangling off the thing as I begin to explain.

"I just found out," I exhale, tears welling in my eyes. "Who murdered Mother and Teresa."

"Who!?" Mattheo exclaims, getting closer to me in interest. I pause- Tom remains silent. He looks at me, half in fear, half in shock. I can see him swallow- he's nervous. He does it very well to hide it, but being his sister, I've observed him and know quite well how to read him. And then I... I realise it. It hits me like a bomb.