New Girl (Draco X Reader)

Chapter eleven

   Streaks of sunshine flitted past the clean linen that covered the glass. The room was a bit cluttered, books and papers spread across different flat surfaces, a familiar, slick black wand rested forgotten on a mahogany bedside table. The bed, pressed up against the wall opposite of the window and door leading to the hallway, was an utter mess. The occupant hadn't bothered to make it for some time, and it seemed obvious that they thrashed around violently at night. For fear of something trapped beneath the surface of a his own mind.

Clink. Went a silver coin as it rolled off the windowsill and collided with the floor, falling onto it's side in defeat.H He didn't bother to retrieve it, or even see where it had rolled off to. Fingertips danced across the smooth white wood with boredom, dark eyes watching through a crack in the curtains, the thin stretch of road cascading over the rolling hills all he could see.

He hadn't gone back to school this semester, no, no, of course not. He had to stay here, trapped in his own home. His own home that had become a hub for Snatchers, and the Dark Lord. Oh, he hated it. He hated the meetings, especially the. . . the. . . recent ones. He could barely sleep at night without having horrible visions of his loved ones being tortured like those Muggles. Draco may not have liked them all that much, but it made him flinch just thinking about the things that were done to them.

Shaking his head, the slicked back blonde locks coming undone, some falling over his eyes. It did little to clear his mind, but there was nothing else he could do. Draco crossed his arms on the sill and set his head on top of them, watching the day start to draw to a close. He could see memories float through his mind, of days long passed with the same melancholy colors spread across the sky. Memories of happiness.

The night was not the only thing that approached, to his surprise. On the horizon, he spotted a pitch black speck moving towards the manor. As it got closer he could make out the healthy black stallions leading it, their manes flowing in the breeze. He wondered who it could be and why, there were much easier ways to get around rather than by carriage, nowadays at least.

A knock at his door made him jump up from his seat at the window, it was a quiet sound in the emptiness he was reminiscing in. He spun around to face the door creaking open in the slightest.

"Draco," It was his mother. He let himself relax in the slightest, "He requests your presence downstairs, we have visitors,"

"I can see, Mother," He replied, quietly. Smoothing over his hair and pulling at the sides of his suit jacket back into a presentable position, he followed her out into the hallway. Then down the stairs into the main foyer. The furniture in the room had since been moved, the chair that the Dark Lord normally sat in, turned towards the door.

He who shall not be named was standing now, though, spinning his wand in one hand and then the other, soulless eyes watching the front doors. Draco noted that he seemed impatient, but for what or whom, he could not deduce.

Silently, he fell in beside his mother who stood to Voldemort's right. Waiting for someone to speak, he felt his eyes wander to the edge of the window that he could see the gates almost clearly. The carriage came to a stop, the two identical horses rearing as they came to a stop. He could hear the neighing from through the door, seeing them paw at the ground with their hooves.

It had to be a Death Eater of some sort exiting the contraption. The person, whom Draco couldn't tell was male or female, stepped out draped in all black. A hood was flipped over her head so that the only part of her face that was touched by light was the nose. They retrieved something from the back seat, holding it in their arms like a child, before starting to move towards the criss crossing metal bars. Two snatchers pulled the gates open like the arrival was of some regal blood.

Draco was distracted by movement in the corner of his eye, his father had stepped in from who knows where. When he turned back to the window, the dark person's transportation had disappeared as well as him or herself. He momentarily wondered where his aunt was, or if it was her in disguise all along.

Lucius strode over to the doors, the creaking of floorboards filling the almost silent room. The chandelier shook slightly, the glittering crystals that dangled from it clinking together. He stole a glance at the Dark Lord, wondering why the noseless man had called him down here to meet seemingly just another one of his minions.

The doors were opened revealing the person, now he could tell it was a woman and the thing she had been carrying. It turned out it wasn't just a thing at all.




Draco's heart stopped. He tried with all his will power to hold back the tiny, frightened cry that rose in the back of his throat but to no avail.

It was you. There was no doubt.

No. No. No. No. No, his mind was screaming, tearing itself to pieces in a matter of seconds. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from watering. You weren't dead, there was no way. There was room for reasonable doubt, since you didn't seem to be breathing. You couldn't- there was no reason- this wasn't-.

Voldemort was a smart man, picking up on Draco's distress even before it had begun. He chuckled evilly, glancing at the panic stricken boy and then towards the woman holding you in her arms.

"Emily! My dear, long time, no see," He was grinning, showing off ugly yellow teeth, pointed like a serpent's. "What have you done now, darling? Gone and killed her, have you? Wouldn't have surprised me," The Lord relished the whimper that followed his own sentence, he found it so easy to tease the young Malfoy.

Draco, on the other hand didn't find it to funny at all, more on the side of horrifying. Eyes wide, frozen to the spot with terror. With the elder man's words came the terrible realization, that you were dead, but the worst part- that he'd never once told you that he loved you. Three simple words, that he thought that you would never hear.

This Emily, your mother, shook her head vigorously. The hood fell from her crown, letting (H/C) locks spill from her head and envelope her shoulders. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, as well as several valley's of wrinkles, if it was from age or stress, no one would be able to tell.

The doors closed with a loud clang, and bang. Shutting out the source of evening light and leaving the room in the grey glow provided by the light struggling through the curtains.

"No! No! She's alive, I think- no! She is, I promise," Her own stutters overwhelmed the woman, and she fell silent. Her head craned down again to look at you, at your hands, the knotted (H/C) hair just like her own.

"Oh, lighten up dear, I was merely teasing you," Voldemort laughed, and he was joined by Emily, who let out a meek chuckle. Everyone else was stiff with the dark, fearful atmosphere. It soon went silent again, the ominous sounds of the old house all that accompanied different levels of breathing.

Shifting uncomfortably, from foot to foot, Emily seemed to be waiting for instruction. She didn't seem to know what to say or do, just the remains of a puppet. The Lord rolled his eyes and pointed at you, then towards Draco in a fluid flick of his wrist.

Your mother seemed hesitant, but she obeyed, scuffling forwards. Her dress, or so it seemed she was wearing one, wafted around her like a waterfall of ink. She stopped in front of Draco, looking down at your sleeping face, and then at his grey eyes with her own (E/C). He barely even noticed the fear floating in her facial features, as she observed him, his attention focused on you.

It came as a surprise when she gingerly moved you towards him, silently handing you over. This Emily made sure he had secured you to his chest before letting her hands slip away and even then she hadn't let go. She ran her slender pinkie down the side of your cheek, gazing at your figure lovingly. It sent an unpleasant chill down his spine the way her eyes went from full of fear to empty sockets, he almost wanted to jerk you away from her creepiness.

She stepped away with haste, returning to the center of the room, fingers clasped together. The Dark Lord stepped forward and enveloped her in an embrace. It was cold, and it almost stung her skin a little. In her silence, she accepted it.

Draco had one arm around your shoulders, holding your head slightly up instead of letting it loll, and the other under the crook of your knees. You weren't all that heavy, less so than he expected, at least. A sharp breath left him, the alarm that had spread through every vein ebbing away slowly. You were breathing softly, peacefully unaware of everything that was going on.

"You've been quite illusive these years since my return," Voldemort clicked his tongue disapprovingly, causing Draco's head to snap up and rejoin the group. His mother was standing beside his father, like two dolls, shoulder to shoulder with matching expressions.

"Haven't I always been?" She shot back, slyly. As if she wasn't scared out of her wits, as if she was talking to an old friend. Which, in all honesty, she must have thought she was.

Her whole demeanor flipped suddenly, at the drop of a shiny silver coin, she bowed her head in a respectful greeting. "It's good to see you, again, my lord,"

"The same to you and your. . . pretty little daughter," He smirked, not that he was truly happy, or pleased with anything. He only did it to spite the audience in front of him. Waving his hand lazily in the general direction of the elder Malfoy's, silently commanding them to do something, he then wrapped his free arm around the (color) haired woman. Voldemort started leading her into another part of the house, away from the main room. Which, it could be assumed, for him to speak with her about who knows what privately.



The pale skinned boy ran his fingers through his hair, tentivly glancing a slight to his right. An equally pale girl, you, but for all the wrong reasons, lay.

Draco gingerly rubbed the tips of his digits across the side of your cheekbone, wishing you'd just wake up already. It was well into the night of the same sunset you had arrived, this sleeping spell couldn't last that long. Right?

To be completely honest, it was all too good to see you. Even in such a conditiinhe would have rathered you be asleep than. . . other things. Dead, paralyzed, imprisoned, wounded, not here at all. Instead you were at rest in one of the 'spare' rooms. To put it in other words, his room. It wasn't like he slept anyways.

His back was to the mahogany headboard, on the opposite side from the door, right up beside you. eyes staring a hole into the wall opposite of the bed. Draco didn't know how to feel, afraid, angry, worried, or relieved. Maybe it was all of them, squished into one horrid monster. It could also be neither, none.

There was a soft knock, something that made him jump nowadays regardless of if he knew who was standing on the other side. The door creaked open, revealing a familiar face, but not the one he was expecting.

Emily, or rather mother. She looked a lot like you, so it was easy to assume things.

"Hello," she greeted him with meek words, inviting herself into the room and shutting the door behind her.

The young Malfoy was half in mind to snap at her, demand information from her. He knew better though, this woman, she was in high standing with the Dark Lord, and he was not someone Draco wanted to upset.

Their was a candle on the bedside table, shining light on the elder looking woman. The crude lighting illuminated every imperfection in her face, from her hollowed eyes to sunken cheeks.

"Your mother. . . said I would find . . . the two of you here,"

For a moment, Draco mistook the careful approach to speaking with him for disapproval. His brows furrowed at her, like a silent warning to raise hell with him.

"No, no! I do not-" she waved her hands back and forth in a frantic manner, the sleeves of her robe falling down to the crook of her elbow. Visably biting her bottom lip, chewing off the dried skin, she stopped suddenly. Her expression now reflecting an elder's authority over a child. It was like she forgot she had that privlage.

"I trust a Malfoy has some decency," she paused, "Especially one as close to my daughter as you,"

Ah. So she was your mother. Charming, just charming, Draco thought. He still said nothing, watching her with sharp grey eyes as she tip toed over to the edge of the bed.

"How do you know that?" It was a stupid question to ask, but it was quite obvious to him that you were a Daddy's girl.

Not to say you had ever said much about your family, the two of you kind of lived in the moment. Whether it was a good or bad one. It was kind of odious though, the pictures in your room, the chain around your neck.

"How do I know you have decency or how I know that you and (Name) were an item?"

"Well, how are you to know, we only just met. As for. (Name) and I- just assumed- you didn't know,"Draco explained. She took a seat on the bottom edge of the mattress, her back against the foot board. Bright emerald eyes fixed on him from a diagonal angle.

"I trust you. Besides that, I don't think you're stupid enough to try anything," Emily shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms and taking on a relaxed position much like his own.

"Why would you assume that? I am her mother- her parent- aren't I supposed to know these things?"

"Yes, but- I just- nevermind,"

It almost felt like she was looking through him, picking him apart. It must take awhile to do that, because a quietness stretched through the room. Draco didn't want to really speak of it further, anyways.

"Nevermind indeed," Emily concluded, her gaze falling from him and going to you. "I didn't come to chastise you, forgive me if I came off- rude. I'm just worried,"

"About (Name)?" He asked, finding your limp hand and fitting his hand against your palm.

"Who else? She's all I have," She scoffed, "Certinally not for myself," Venomous as the words were, there was no mistaking it as anything but truth. Draco didn't dare ask any questions, he had learned that silence was key in the Death Eater society.

"Tell me something about her," The almost peace had stayed for quite a while, without words or suspicious looks being thrown about. Emily just had to shatter it.

"What?" Draco responded, jolting out of his literal cat nap. Blinking frantically to get a clear picture of the dark clad widow in front of him.

"Anything, just tell me something I don't know about her," She paused, laughing dryly. "Which is probably a lot," her voice was kind enough for him to realize she was being serious.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" He rubbed at his eyes, before resting his head on his knees.

"I haven't preformed a temporary sleeping spell in quite a while. She will wake up, I'm just not sure when." Blunt. "Besides, even if she was. . . able to tell me, she wouldn't. We haven't been on good terms in a while,"

"Why is that?" Now he was just being nosy, and she knew it.

"Just. . . Family problems," Emily mumbled, rubbing her temple with bony fingers. Draco sighed in a tired manner, tired of this conversation, tired of waiting. He sat up again, politely finding eye contact with her, yet he still said nothing.

There were a lot of things he could say, but he wasn't sure what would appease the woman sitting on the edge of his bed with her hand running down the side of your leg.

"She likes to fly," Draco said, finally, thinking of it true. Even though, you hadn't really flown in a long time. Not with him knowing at least. Before the two of you were, well- together, you used to 'borrow' his broomstick and sneak out for a flying session. Draco even got to join you sometimes, which more than paid your quite hefty 'borrowing' fee in his eyes. He could remember clinging onto for almost dear life as you zipped this way and that, went upside down and around. Draco still couldn't figure out why you didn't get sick.

Emily let out a soft chuckle, her skinny arms folding in her lap. "Thank you, just, thank you," She whispered, was she- was she crying? Shiny droplets seemed to try and blend in against her skin, against the darkness of her cloak, but she stood, rather feebly, and made her way to the door. Possibly, she was going to speak with the Dark Lord again, or maybe just head off to bed.

It wasn't a long while before sleep called Draco's name again and again until he blew out the candles and scooted down beside you. He didn't let your fingers leave his for a moment, a second. They were so warm, a sign of life. He leaned over far enough to brush his lips over your temple, a silent 'good night,'.

For the moment, he could pretend that you'd wake up as normal, that nothing was out of place, but somewhere in the back of his mind he was still . . . well, scared. Short lived as it was, he crawled into the clutches of drowsiness, letting them whisk him away from all the problems he found himself facing.



The morning was a bit cold, and you shifted in an uncomfortable way, not having anything but what you were wearing previously on. Whining ever so slightly in your fervor to awake, your feet kicked like a sleeping mutt's would when it dreamt of chasing a rabbit through a wide open field . Your eyelids felt like they had been replaced with lead curtains, and it was all your could do to try and push them up and away from your vision. When you finally did, you were nearly blinded by the morning light that angled itself perfectly with your face.

Shifting away from it to see a door, directly in front of your head which laid on a pillow, you nearly screamed. This wasn't your room. Your bed with angled so that the bed sat with itself facing the opposite corner to which the exit was located.

Forcing yourself to sit up on shaky arms, you tried to breath normally, and not choke on the realization that you had woken up in someone else's room. Even though this place felt vaguely familiar, you were silently becoming frantic through the abnormal breathing pattern you chose. In, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, in, out.

As soon as you did manage to pull your head away from the clean white sheets, everything started spinning, your vision blurred at the edges and became black pits trying to drag you back down, but you didn't let them. Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped, and a river of memories gushed forth, flooding you.

You had been at home, reading a book, and you suddenly felt. . . coldness seep into your bones, something hadn't felt right. So, naturally, you went to investigate, and when- when you got downstairs you started calling for your mum, but she wasn't there. You didn't return upstairs, thinking she went shopping or something, you were knocked out. . . with a sleeping spell, and you ended up here.

Now that you had that straightened out, you could calm down. A little. You were still alive, that made- enough sense. Your ears picked up on the sound of running water, a shower. That meant- someone was with you. Who would it be? Were you dreaming? You slowly, scooted off the edge of the bed, your sock clad feet finding the floor with ease.


The water was hot, steamy, what a summer day should be like. Granted, it was morning and the beginning of spring, dew had just settled on the emerald blades of grass that adorned the ground giving it a short of shimmer when the sun finally showed it's face.

Draco could have stayed there for much longer than he had, letting the droplets cling to his shoulder blade and drip down his back in a sluggish grace. However, he didn't have the luxury of that. So he shut it off, the symphony of little tiny drums leaving the room in near nothingness.

Mirrors, a truthful yet cruel device. It had nothing to show Draco today, seeing as it had steamed up to the point that he could barely see through it, like a thick fog.

He grumbled lowly, pulling a towel off the rack and rubbing it against his head in an attempt to dry it. It was odd, how he preferred not using magic for such a menial task, maybe he liked the way the cold air nipped at the back of his neck, or maybe it was because he always left his wand in the other room. Which, that was just the case, it was any other day, wasn't it?

Pulling on suitable clothes, dressy stuff, something he had to do nowadays. He fumbled with the small, clear buttons on the blouse, pausing for a quick moment to unlock the door and push it open, he looked down just in time to not notice your vertical position.

It wasn't until you gasped lightly that he realized that he hadn't been paying attention. Draco looked up with a jerking movement, locking his gaze with yours as soon as possible. It was almost a stale mate, the two of you standing there in a thick silence.


This was crazy, your mind whirled, Draco? The first thing that came to mind was how happy you were to see him, and how handsome he'd gotten. Of course, you blush at the thought.

Your shocked, almost smile, turned into a sort of- frown. You really wished to just shut off the logic machine in your brain cavern and run into his arms like a cliche' fairy tail girl, saying how much you had missed him and how scared you were right now.

It was impossible to do that, and even if it wasn't, you didn't think you were brave enough to do anything embarrassing or extremely girly such as that. Instead, you momentarily thought that he was the culprit, and it made you stifle any sound that came out of your mouth.

What did he want you for? Why would he bring you here? Assuming he had access to your house, assuming that this was all just a friendly kidnapping- god what were you going on about?

"(Name)?" He whispered, knocking you thoroughly out of what you thought was trying to fit puzzle pieces together, only to figure out you had lost more than you thought when you had dumped them on the floor. He was closer than you remembered.

"Ahuh," You mumbled dumbly, blinking your eyes rapidly. Before you could ask questions, his hands were holding your face as if you were a porcelain doll, orbs specked with a rare sort of happiness and well- tears. Draco leaned his forward on yours, causing you to rock back momentarily before steadying yourself.

"I love you," He breathed with meaning, making sure you heard him say it. The fluttering in your chest made you think that your heart had transformed into a butterfly in the short time that it had made itself present in your chest. Before you had time to respond, he kissed you gingerly, his fingers falling from your face and finding your waist with little problem.

Returning the gesture, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, noting how his damp hair tickled the underside of your wrists. You were smiling on the inside, all your worries washed away for a minute, wanting only to enjoy this moment. Moments like these had been missed, oh so missed.

It didn't surprise you when a warm presence slid across your bottom lip carefully, a very Draco-like gesture, and you didn't even mind it, so you let him in. Pfft, like you could say no to him. What did surprise you however, was that he was the one who broke it up.

"(Name)," He panted, "Don't ever do that again," He growled, everything seemingly jumbled and just- unreal.

"What?" This chilly feeling spread over you, somehow realizing immediately that he was talking about something you couldn't remember. Maybe it was his eyes, distant, thinking.

"Almost giving me a heart attack," Draco's voice softened, pecking your lips again, very softly and almost unsure of himself. Another strange thing to think when describing the blonde Malfoy, but it was a fleeting thought. "I thought you were dead,"

"Oh," you murmured, reaching up and brushing your fingers along his unkept hair. You were sorry for that, but it wasn't your fault, really. You wouldn't want to think of that either, so all you could do was kiss him and hope that counted as an apology.


Tranquility washed over the room, content with one just holding the other. It probably wouldn't

Fidgeting with your hands, knotting your fingers together and then undoing them again, until finally, you got up the courage to speak again.

"I love you, too," He said it himself, and he meant it. You knew it was sincere, he wouldn't have subjected himself to saying it wasn't. Right?

His eyes fluttered open from their closed position, finding your gaze directed into his own, he didn't give you many choices to direct it away.

A smile crept onto his face, not entirely happy, but nothing short of a husk of that hidden feeling. He hadn't had such an experience to be named 'happy' in so long. It felt . . . nice. You found yourself mirroring it, wondering if you should start asking questions soon. Draco had to know what happened.

Nothing was fair, nor could things last forever, a sad truth. Like the mirror, it always told the truth, no matter how ugly.

Knocking, gentle but still urgent.

"(Name)? Draco?"

"Mom?!" You yelped, jerking away from Draco to stare at the door in surprise. He took a step back and towards the bathroom, his shirt yet to be closed. It would have been bad if your mum had seen him that way, probably would have taken back that whole 'trusting' bullcrap from last night.

"Oh, (Name)! You're awake!" The door was flung open, nearly being smashed into the back of the wall as the woman rushed in to tackle you with a hug. Something clicked with you, some piece was jarred into place, her voice, her clothing.

Scrambling back, you pointed your finger at her, "Don't touch me," The bed just had to block your way.

"(Name) I-" Emily paused, reaching towards you only to have you move to the side of the bed, trying to scoot around it at the very least. She stopped trying, "The Dark Lord wishes to see you downstairs," She whispered, you could almost distinguish regret from just her voice, maybe you were making that up.

"The- the- the-" You stuttered incomprehensibly, even to yourself. For a moment, you expected to faint.

"I love you," She whispered, closing the door and leaving you standing with no sense of what was even going on anymore. This was crazy, complete and utter craziness filling the space around you.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders, a soothing presence finding a way to keep you grounded. You searched for his fingers, finding the cuff of his jacket instead, but he had already removed himself from your side and took a stance in front of you. He held you by the shoulders, very gingerly.

"Take a deep breath," He instructed with shaky words, this was something he had to do many times and still did even now. The man- the man you were going to meet, wasn't to be taking lightly.

"Come with me," You looked up at him, your voice betraying the sudden bout of fear that was attacking you. He thought about it, he didn't want to get in trouble, or somehow disobey the Lord.

"Alright," He whispered finally.