Stockholm Syndrome (Draco X Reader)

14. The Encounter

"Father..."

The rain drummed steadily on the cemetery's ancient stones. Draco muttered something I couldn't hear properly as he turned around to look at the person who had called out to him.

"Draco, who I--"

"Hide behind me, Y/N."

Before I could finish, Draco's hand shot out, firm and insistent, pressing me to stay behind him. His fingers brushed my waist, a silent command to stay put.

Curiosity gnawed at me. I craned my neck, peeking over Draco's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the man who had called his name.

The stranger stood about five or six paces away, a black umbrella shielding him from the rain. He was tall, his posture commanding and formal, much like Draco's. Long blonde hair, tied into a ponytail with a black ribbon. His resemblance to Draco was unmistakable, though he looked much older, the lines of time and experience etched into his face.

"It has been a long time since we last met, Draco," The man said, his voice carrying a sinister edge that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Why did you come here?" Draco's tone was sharp, filled with a displeasure that was impossible to miss.

The man's lips curled into a mocking smile.

"Is that the way to speak to your father, Draco?"

Father? My heart skipped a beat. This man had caused so much pain in Draco's life—the man who had left his mother. I could feel the tension in Draco's body, his muscles tensing as if preparing for a fight.

"I stopped considering you my father the day you walked out on my mother," Draco shot back, his voice barely controlled.

His father's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Ah, Draco. I see time hasn't changed you. Still the same insolent child."

Draco's fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with the force of his grip.

"Why are you here?" Draco questioned, his voice a mix of frustration and barely suppressed rage.

"I've come to pay my respects to your mother's grave," His father said, his voice deceptively calm.

The rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming a somber rhythm on the gravestones around us. Draco stood rigid, his body shielding me and the man approaching us. His father.

"You have no right to respect her grave."Draco spat, his body trembling with barely restrained rage.

His father shrugged his indifference a stark contrast to Draco's anger. He took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them, his black umbrella casting a long shadow over Draco.

"Go back...Go back to the adulterous woman you loved." Draco ordered, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage.

A smirk played on his father's lips. He took another step forward, his presence looming.

"Y/M/N left me a year ago. She found a new man she liked more than me."

Y/M/N... My breath caught in my throat. He was talking about my mother.

"Serves you right," Draco spat, his voice cold and unyielding.

His father continued his slow advance until he was standing mere inches from Draco.

"I've come today to pay my respects to Narcissa's grave...I wanted to apologize for what I did." His father said, his tone dripping with false sincerity.