shattered | f.w, d.m

eight

Draco.

November, 1997.

—

She disappeared.

Draco didn't know where she'd gone, but he hadn't seen her all day. Just like he didn't see her all day on Wednesday. It was Sunday.

She had missed all her classes on Wednesday and now, Sunday, she was nowhere to be seen.

Draco saw her fuckhead boyfriend multiple times and she wasn't with him. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

What was their relationship like? Did he really not care about her? Was he just using her for her body? For the sake of the idea of having a girlfriend?

Again, Draco could treat her a hundred times better than Fred.

He would love her so much and show her how much he loved her. He would take care of her and protect her and make her feel like the only girl in the world. He would wait on her hand and foot, on his knees for her.

He'd kiss the ground she walked on.

He loved her so, so much. She was his love. The love of his life. His heart called her name and beat for her, and her alone.

They were made for each other.

As Draco walked down the corridor, all casual and nonchalant, he was actually looking for Keziah again. It was nearly three in the afternoon and this would be his seventeenth time looking for her.

He could ask around, but for obvious reasons, he was not going to. They were still pretty fresh and new. Asking around about her would raise questions when they were still on the down-low.

As much as he wanted to flaunt their relationship and their love around, he couldn't. Not yet. But, he was in love with her and she was in love with him.

She didn't exactly say it, though he knew. Deep down in his beating heart, he knew she loved him.

He knew by the way she looked at him and by the way she played hard to get. The way she acted like she didn't care. The way she acted like he was an annoyance to her. She loved him too.

He sought for her precious heart and he had it.

They were in love.

Rounds were made and Draco still couldn't find her. He was beginning to get a little angry actually. He couldn't fucking find her.

Where are you, my love? Where are you? You didn't tell me what you were doing or where you were going. That's not good. We need to communicate, okay? Communication is important.

Usually he would be opposed to the idea that one of the ladies he watched had a routine—a strict routine. Like this. Like Keziah disappearing every Sunday and Wednesday.

But this time, he found himself intrigued by it. Because where was she? Who did she see during this time? Was she alone? What did she do? What even was this thing she did every Sunday and Wednesday?

"Mate," came Blaise's voice from behind.

Draco whirled around to see his two friends approaching him. "Hey, what's up?" he greeted, his tone all light and natural.

"We're gonna go get some butterbeers," Theodore said in the midst of sliding his black coat on. "Fancy joining us? Astoria will be there later on." He was winking at his mate.

"The fuck's up with your eye?" Draco deadpanned, only slightly startled.

Theodore stopped winking, blinking at his friend. "Nothing," he muttered.