DISCONTINUED--Letters I Can't Send (draco x reader)

44

Draco's POV

The 17th of December. 8 days to find a date to the ball. I know someone who is an amazing dancer, someone who drives me absolutely nuts but still puts a grin on my face. I know someone who is insufferable but when she laughs or smiles, I can't help but wonder if the gods themselves feel intimidated. I know someone who makes my blood boil, but is so utterly gorgeous that it doesn't even matter anymore.

But that's not what I think, not really. It slinks around in the back of my mind, while I study, write my essays and walk around Hogsmeade.

But I have bigger problems consuming my worries. My grandfather is ill. My own father is on my back constantly, pushing me and pressing me to do good. My façade of rough, rude behavior stays in place most of the time, but I feel it slipping away every once in a while.

Like on chilly mornings where it feels like the world is closing in on me. Like when collapsing onto the stone floor of the Great Hall seems like a good option.

Like when someone I'm growing to care about is pulling herself down into heaps of despair.

As much as I tell myself that my grandfather is a good man, it doesn't feel true. He is a great wizard, proud Slytherin, always trying to make me become the most successful version of myself. But in between the lines, he was a terrible husband, rough father to my father and even worse father-in-law to my mother.

I'm shoving thoughts under the rug, pushing away the perfect portrait of our family, blocking out what I had hoped would be a normal year.

Alone in my dorm, I open a letter from my father. He rarely ever writes to me, so I know it must be news of my grandfather.

Draco,

Your grandfather is too ill to survive much of the new year. I am sending in your dress robes for the Yule Ball.

Your mother sends her regards.

Lucious Malfoy

His normal business signature is signed at the bottom of the letter.

I crumple up the letter and toss it aside, sitting at the foot of my bed, my fingers run through my hair, messing it up thoroughly.

It's not that I ever really loved my grandfather, but I did look up to him for a long time. Until I grew up and realized what an awful man he was. Still is.

I shouldn't feel grief when the man isn't my idol. I shouldn't feel sad when he was a bad man.

I shouldn't feel bad, but I suppose it would feel worse to feel nothing at all.

..........

December 18th and I'm in Hogsmeade, curiously watching Quinn Carson and Y/n as they travel from dress shop to dress shop. Y/n seems to feel nothing as she walks through the village with her best friend. She seems to have no problem at all, but I still feel the unwelcome sense to protect but I shake it off.

The bastard at the ice cream stand still works here, but not in the winter (thank Merlin).

In the least creepy way possible, I follow them into Honeydukes. There, I catch her attention by gently tugging at the sleeve of her sweater. She turns around and looks at me, and the obviously fake smile that was just on her lips moments ago is gone. Without saying anything, I yank her out of the shop. All I needed was for her to know that it's just me, not anyone else—I know she is on edge in this environment.

I pull her in between Honeydukes and the post office besides it, a narrow alleyway. She shifts uncomfortably.

My grip tightens on her sweater. "What in the world are you doing her, Ellis?" I seethe through my teeth. I bend my head to be eye level with her. My brows pinch together as she responds.

"I need a dress," she says in a tone to mock my own.

"And you need to buy it here?" my gaze narrows at her.

She looks away. "Well where else?"

I sigh. "I don't know." I feel myself becoming angry, but not exactly at her. I'm angry at the goddamned world.

"Is that all you have to say?" she asks and I look at her, a hint of confusion on my features.

"I—yes, what did you think I was going to say?" I retort, ignoring my stumble.

She twists her sleeve out of my grip and the look on her face is annoyance, though I am unsure why.

"Then I suppose we're done here if there's nothing else you want to say," she says, suddenly seeming composed.

I, myself, stand a bit straighter, due to her sudden formality.

Just before she turns to leave, I grab her sleeve again and lean to her ear. "He's not here, but, please, stay with Carson." Then I harshly let go of her sleeve and she adjusts her bag on her shoulder, walking away like I hadn't just whispered in her ear.

..........

Only when I'm opening another letter from my father, and dreading what the contents could be, I realize what she meant.

Was she asking about the ball?

No, that's barbaric.

No, of course not.

I take the slip of paper out of the envelope and immediately see my father's handwriting. A package has come for me as well—unmistakably my dress robes.

Draco,

Your dress robes are in the box.

The Bronnys are spending Christmas with us, so Y/n Ellis will be also be taking residence in the Manor this holiday season.

Yearly Christmas party will be swapped with a New Years Eve party—your mother's idea because couldn't bare the thought of a Christmas party without you.

You will be taking the train home with the girl the day following Christmas.

Lucious Malfoy

I sigh. The last thing I want is to have her come along to one our events.

"What does the old man have to say?" Blaise says curiously as he stands at the foot of my bed, his hands on his hips.

I gesture to the unopened box of dress robes besides my bed. "Yule Ball."

"You're not stoked, huh?" he adds, plopping down onto his bed. "No date?" him and a few others in the room snicker.

I roll my eyes. "You guys know I'm not into that kind of stuff," I rub a hand down my face.

"Maybe he's sad because that Ellis girl rejected him," someone says and shoot straight up.

"That is not—"

"Maybe it's because she has another date," someone else says.

"And with Harry Potter," another boy chimes in. They must be joking with me.

"What?" I say, astonished.

"It's true," Blaise says, his face immediately slackening. He's never been fond of Y/n. "I saw it today. He caught her down in the courtyard and asked right there in front of everyone."

I feel the utter rage surging throughout me, but I mask it, because I would never feel that strongly for anything of that sort.

The room is silent as every pair of eyes stares at me, waiting for a reaction, to see if it really will affect me.

Suddenly, I stand and grab my sweatshirt. "I'm going for a walk," I seethe through gritted teeth.

Nobody says anything when I slam the dorm door behind me.

I need to cool off. I need to let this roll off me. I need—

I stop suddenly when I enter the common room. The only person present is Pansy Parkinson. She sits in front of the fire and looks up at me when I move into her field of vision.

"Pansy."

a/n: yule ball date drama...