Inferno | Draco Malfoy

032 | Brits and Their British Accents

Adriana Clarissa Harlow
Malfoy Manor
Wiltshire
Sunday 16th July 1995

Dear Selene Huang,

I am writing to inform you that my once-long patience has been shortened by miles. My will to live is gone and I am astonished by how I haven't tried to run away or commit much worse deeds.

As stated in my address of this letter, I am indeed at Malfoy Manor. Not for a day, or a week. For my whole bloody summer.

I hope you can feel my fury and misery.

My parents have violated me in the cruellest way possible by dropping me off in this prison cell. They are having fun, drinking wine and chatting to Mr and Mrs Malfoy. The reason, "We have business to sort out with the Malfoys." is starting to become implausible to me. Camden's having a great time with the Wig Boy, they have common interests and a good friendship. Then there is me, who truthfully loves the place and aesthetics but hates one single person living here.

Malfoy is the vainest and most pretentious person known to exist. Malfoy loves to boast about pretty much everything and it's staggering to think that Malfoy doesn't respect me when I'm a Harlow.

I am a royal and he is a commoner.

I just ̶U̶g̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶h̶ ̶ it's hard not to think about Malfoy now that I am stuck with him. Trust me, I've tried to avoid him but I can't. We bicker (argue) all the time and there are a few times when I find myself in some awkward situations with Malfoy. It's hard not to think about Malfoy when

"Rosie?"

"Go away!"

Despite my clear rude response, Malfoy unlocks my door with his wand anyway. I scramble out of my seat, grabbing my parchment behind my back — the writing is facing away from me as the ink isn't dry — I'm worried that he might see what I've written. I wouldn't mind if he read the first part, it's the bottom I'm concerned about.

You idiot Adria. Why would you write that? What were you planning to write?

It has been three days since uhh, well, the accident. I guess we both just decided to not talk about it or dwell upon it. Thank God, if he brought it up then I would've jumped out the window.

"What part of go away do you not understand?"

"Perhaps answer nicely next time." Malfoy looks me up and down. "What's behind your back?"

"My hands."

"Holding?"

"My wand."

"Very funny, your wand is on the table and next to a splotch of ink. So, you are writing. To whom may I ask?"

"My family, in particular Mr Malfoy, my cousin."

He crosses his arms, thinking, then sternly saying, "I will need to read it."

"Is there a reason? Because last time I checked, this is my concern and not yours. I would appreciate it if you keep yourself out of it."

With a smug smile, he steps closer to me.

"A simple no would've been fine. There is no need to be defensive, Harlow. Did you write something you do not wish to show me?" Malfoy approaches me further and my anxiousness leads me to stumble back, hitting the table. He lets out a short laugh but does not say anything.

I roll my eyes, "How many questions do you have? You weren't like this when I sent letters to Daphne or Tracey or..." He comes closer and it becomes a bit harder to think. "Theo."