Optionless with Draco Malfoy

6. Optionless

Juliette

The Malfoys had one place on their property which I loved; the garden. Each morning, I went to the garden, and I'd take a few moments for myself to think.

Everything in it was dead since no one bothered to care for it. It seemed like all that was left was soil, a few crumpled flower petals, and a wooden bench. It was nice because I'd use the garden as a place to practice a few spells, and I'd try to bring life back to the plants.

I paced around the garden to clear my thoughts of last night, massaging my temples. With everything that happened, I tried to keep the thoughts locked away in my brain.

I refuse to believe the unbearable truth. Something is going to happen. Tonight. No matter how much I try to deny it, I know that I'm in denial of reality.

In the corner of my eye, I could see a figure begin to approach me. For once, Draco Malfoy seemed abnormally pale and nervous. Typically, he wore a smirk or an evil smile plastered on his face with confidence as he plotted against me, but today was different. 

"What do you want Malfoy?" I asked in a distasteful tone which came instinctively.

He sat down beside me on the old wooden bench. He gave me a long look like he was trying to figure out something. "I heard you last night," he said flatly. "I couldn't fall back asleep. Thanks for that, Trails. Why were you screaming?"

"What are you talking about?" I lied, clicking my tongue and trying to ignore Malfoy. For the past few nights, I've been having nightmares, but I didn't know that I screamed. 

I fixed my gaze towards the dying flower a few meters away from me. The plant was still in its pot, only the soil seemed dry as the plant. "Aguamenti," I said quietly, and water shot out of my wand and into the pot. I watched as the soil absorbed the water.

"You're lying. I'm not trying to pick a fight, but be honest Trails. It's the least you could do, I'm restless, can't you tell? What's your deal, Trails?"

I turned to Malfoy and glared at him. I was just in a mood where I couldn't be bothered by him. My mind wasn't in a good place. "My deal is that you're a prick, Malfoy. It's none of your business. So for once in your life, could you stop bothering me about this and stop being a prick?"

"It's my business if I'm the one who's sleep deprived. I'm not the one making such a ruckus at night," he said in a sour tone.

"Nightmares," I answered honestly. "Don't expect me to be dreaming about daisies and rainbows after I witness freaking Lord Vold-"

"Shut up, Trails," said Malfoy in an annoyed tone. I was about to speak, but he hissed, "Muffliato," a charm that prevents people nearby from hearing your conversation. 

"Did you not think that our parents could hear you rambling about how scared you are of the Dark Lord? How pleased will your parents be if they find out that you're a wuss? Especially after knowing that you're good friends with Potter and Weaselbee..."

I glared at him and said, "Listen closely, Malfoy... You-Know-Who used an unforgivable curse on a Muggle. He tortured him and ended his life. After witnessing Voldemort, use an unforgivable curse on a bloody innocent Muggle, I'm allowed to have nightmares. Second of all, I don't have a choice to become one of them! I don't want to be a bloody Death Eater!"

Malfoy gave me a disgusted look. "So this is what happens when you hang out with pricks. You speak like Weaselbee. Stop using bloody in every sentence!"

"Can you not just lay off my friends for one goddamn minute, Malfoy?" Thinking about Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurt. They were my best friends and I was forbidden to write to them. They knew nothing that happened after we broke into the Ministry of Magic a few months ago. I felt guilty, terrible, and even sick about the thoughts of them. I was going to become a Death Eater and I couldn't stop that, unless I wanted to die.

I got up from the bench and examined some of the plants in the garden. As I walked, I began to vent out at Malfoy without even noticing. "They've each written to me twice. They probably think I'm a traitor. The timing-well everything is wrong. The worst part is, I am a traitor. The Dark Mark will be imprinted on my wrist soon. I don't stand for any of this... at all. Better yet, how am I going to explain it to my closest friends when Voldemort has been after one of them since he was a baby? How am I-"

Suddenly, the words wouldn't escape my mouth. Malfoy used a silencing charm on me. I gave him an angry look.

"Calm down Trails. Not even Muffliato will be strong enough to prevent you from being heard if you're going to talk this loud." He un-silenced me with a wave of his wand.

I sighed deeply. "I'm being serious, Malfoy! Do you think that I want this? I never even wanted to be a Slytherin. Do you think I wanted to be born in a family where my parents are loyal to Voldemort? I never wanted to get the Dark Mark engraved on my wrist. I didn't want any of this. And there's no way out of this situation! Having the Dark Mark on my wrist will haunt me for the rest of my life. It's going to be engraved here-" I pulled my left sleeve up to my forearm, "-until I die... that's not what I want."

I used my sweater to wipe the tears off of my face.

Everything only began to sink in now. The anger, frustration, and everything else. I'm optionless.

"Do you think I want this?" Malfoy said in a small voice. At first, I couldn't even recognize it. I'm too used to his cocky and overly-confident voice, that this innocent, small voice was unknown to me.

I scoffed, "I mean... you hate everything about Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and the idea of rebelling. I wouldn't be shocked if you felt that same hatred towards me. Get the mark, and this will be your time to get revenge on them," I answered. I was half-joking and half-serious.

As he stared at me, he only seemed broken and scared. For the first time, I could actually see the fear in his eyes.

"Revenge is not what I want. I don't care for the mark. My entire life, it's been all about my father. Listening to him and following his orders. And look at where that's landed him: in Azkaban. I'm done with the following. But I can't leave or anything without feeling pity for my mother. I'm sticking around for her. You're not the only one who's optionless either, Trails."