Draco Malfoy and the Girl Who Hid

40

Yn awoke with a start, a scream tearing from her throat as she sat up, her chest heaving with the remnants of a nightmare that felt too real. Her skin was slick with sweat, her hands trembling as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the shivers that wracked her body. She could still feel the phantom echoes of pain, the lingering ache that seemed to burn beneath her skin, and for a moment, she wasn't sure if she was awake or still trapped in the nightmare.

The door burst open, and Draco rushed in, his face pale with concern. He scanned the room quickly, his eyes landing on her where she sat curled up on the bed. "Yn," he said softly, his voice filled with a rare tenderness. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched as though he wanted to comfort her, but she recoiled, scrambling back against the headboard with wide, terrified eyes.

"Stay away from me," she hissed, her voice shaking as she pressed herself against the wall. Her gaze was wild, filled with a mixture of fear and fury, and for a moment, Draco looked as though she'd struck him.

"Yn, it's me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he were afraid to speak any louder. "It was just a dream. You're safe now."

"No," she replied, her voice cracking as tears began to stream down her face. "It wasn't just a dream, Draco. You actually did it. You put me through that." Her voice was raw, filled with a pain that cut deeper than any physical wound, and Draco could feel his chest tightening as he looked at her, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a stone.

He swallowed hard, a flicker of guilt flashing in his eyes as he tried to find the right words, the words that would somehow make this all bearable. "I had to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yn, you have to understand... If I hadn't—"

Yn let out a harsh, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she hugged herself tighter. "Understand? You think I could ever understand that?" She looked away, her eyes filling with tears again as she bit her lip, her voice shaking. "We're all going to die, Draco. Don't you see that? None of us will survive this... Not you, not me, not your mother. We're all as good as dead."

Draco's face fell, and he moved closer to her, his hand reaching out to rest on the edge of the bed as though he were trying to bridge the gap between them. "Yn," he said, his voice filled with a desperate kind of hope, "this will all be over soon. You have to believe that. And when it is... maybe we can be together. Away from all of this."

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of the girl he had once known, the girl he had loved in secret, the girl he had risked everything for. But then the light faded, and she shook her head, her expression hardening as she looked away, fresh tears streaming down her face.

"I don't want that," she whispered, her voice choked with sobs. "I can't... I can't just pretend this will all work out. Not after everything you've done."

Draco's heart ached as he watched her, his fingers curling into fists as he struggled to hold back his own tears. He reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed his fingers against her cheek, trying to wipe away her tears, but she flinched away, her eyes filled with a sorrow that cut him to the core.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, his voice hoarse. "But I just... I need you to know that I did it to protect you. To keep you alive. You have to believe me, Yn."

Her eyes were filled with disbelief, and she shook her head, her voice breaking as she looked at him, her gaze filled with a mixture of pain and pity. "Protect me? By torturing me? Do you even hear yourself, Draco?" She took a shaky breath, wiping away her tears with a trembling hand. "You're as much a prisoner here as I am. But you're the one who put yourself in these chains."

Draco looked down, a wave of shame washing over him as her words sank in. He knew she was right. He had made his choices, had chosen this path, and now he was paying the price. But he couldn't let go of the hope that, somehow, they might still find a way out of this. That they could still be free. That they could still be together.

"Yn," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "I never wanted this. Not for you. Not for any of us. But it's too late for me now. I've made my choice. I have to see this through. For my mother. For you."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that made his heart ache, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in her gaze. But then she looked away, her shoulders slumping as she took a deep, shuddering breath, her voice barely audible as she spoke.

"I don't think you realize what you've done, Draco. You've tied yourself to a sinking ship, and you're dragging all of us down with you." She shook her head, a look of resignation settling over her features. "I'm sorry for you, I really am. But I can't be a part of this. I can't."

Draco felt a surge of desperation, his heart pounding as he reached out, his hand closing around hers in a last, desperate attempt to hold on to her. "Please, Yn," he whispered, his voice filled with a raw, aching vulnerability. "Just... give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I can change. That we can both be free."

She looked down at their joined hands, her expression softening for a moment as she met his gaze, her eyes filled with a sadness that broke his heart. But then she pulled away, her voice quiet but firm as she looked at him, her gaze steady.

"I can't, Draco," she said softly. "Not after everything. I can't keep pretending that this will all work out. We're trapped, all of us. And the sooner we accept that, the sooner we can find a way to survive."

Draco felt his chest tighten, a wave of despair washing over him as he watched her turn away, her back straight as she walked to the window, her gaze fixed on the dark, stormy sky outside. He wanted to reach out, to pull her back, to make her see that he was trying, that he was fighting for her. But he knew that he had already lost her, that she was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

For a moment, he stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of his choices, the choices that had led him here, to this cold, empty room, to this hollow, aching loneliness. He had thought he could protect her, that he could keep her safe, but he had only pushed her further away, had only driven a wedge between them that he could never hope to bridge.

As he turned to leave, he took one last, lingering look at her, his heart breaking as he realized that he had lost the one thing he had fought so hard to keep. And as he closed the door behind him, he knew that he would never be whole again. Not without her. Not without the love that he had destroyed in his desperate, misguided attempt to save her.