When You Loved Me (Druna Fanfiction)

Forgotten

The towering paperworks and the clutter of unread memos were proofs of how much work Draco was trying to accomplish. The silence was disturbed only by the furious scratching of his quill on parchment and the ticking of the wall clock.

It had been three days since that night when he clutched onto the confines of firewhiskey as if it was his lifeline, when he suddenly was unable to orient himself in the swirl of flashbacks that were too painful to bear. He tried to act as unaffected as he could but the knowledge that she would be coming back had the knack of doing otherwise.

That was the problem, Draco thought. The problem was the fact that she could still invade his mind even if she wasn't even aware of doing it. She was at Ireland but he already felt vaguely tortured by the mere memory of her; an agonizing presence of a ghost that he couldn't run away from. What more if he would see her everyday at work?

He furrowed his brows and scratched his quill harder on the report. He would just get enough excuse to go to work everyday earlier than everyone and go home after everybody had. That way, the chance of running into her would be pretty slim. Draco considered that thought for a moment then stared stupidly at the mess of undone reports and permits infront of him. He only had to do half of this himself as he wasn't the only one in his department but he figured that it would keep him busy and preoccupied. It was better than alcohol, wasn't it?

Absently, he wondered if she was already back in the country or if she was already a few floors above him. His egotistical side wondered if she was in any way anxious of meeting him and if she had been thinking about him too, one way or another.

However, the questions that had been buzzing inside his head like a hundred doxies made him stop in the middle of writing.

What would she do if they met?

Would she ask questions? Would she want him to explain why? Draco gulped back the lump forming in his throat. What if she just ignored him as if nothing had happened at all? He gripped the quill that was still poised on the parchment so hard it was a wonder why it didn't snap in half. Why did he consider her not caring a bad thing?

Draco knew the answer, he always had done. It was so simple, no further explanation would be needed to understand the situation. He had known ever since those dreamy eyes watched him analytically through the cold darkness of the Manor's cellar. He had known ever since she smiled at him behind a curtain of dirty blonde hair when he first went down to bring her food. He was aware since then that he wouldn't be able to get her out of his head even if he tried.

How he bitterly wished he hadn't come down that one night to the cellar. How we wanted to go back in time and stop himself from craving her companionship throughout that dark chapter of his life, when the very foundation of his life had revolved around the Dark Lord and the war. If he hadn't been caught up in the middle of the cataclysmic swirl of obligations and do-it-or-die pressure, he wouldn't have given her even a second glance. He was just desperate, that was all there was. He just needed someone to share the weight with and she just happened to be locked in his house's cellar.

If he hadn't lingered longer everytime he went down than needed, the tight feeling in his chest wouldn't be appearing everytime he heard her name.

The ink-loaded quill and the parchment had been shoved to the side with an exasperated sigh. His hands ran through his hair as he closed his eyes for a brief second to will himself to stop thinking.

Through all the hazy numbness that suddenly coursed his body, he was vaguely aware of the fact that he had known this turn of event would come to pass a long time ago. Somehow, he had anticipated this with an intense anxiousness for almost everyday.

It wasn't a wonder why she suddenly wanted to come back, or atleast had to come back.

She would want to see her friends again; the only people she considered family aside from her own blood. That was just the type of person she was-- she put a great deal of sentimental value upon those who were closest to her. Draco could say that he knew her enough, atleast that he could admit. For her, the bond that had been established between people was a kind of luxury, a precious piece of unearthed gem so rare that it had to be treasured immensely.

That connection would be something she would want to establish again, wouldn't it?

Then again, would she want to regain what she and Draco had in the past?

He gripped the edge of his desk so hard it turned his knuckles white. Something new was bubbling from the pit of his stomach that made his sweat ran cold, something that he had always resented feeling- fear. An anxiousness to a different level had his insides feel like they had been drenched in ice.

Yes, he thought; that was the kind of thing she would do, or would want to do- she had always valued any kind of human interaction as long as it ran along the lines of pleasant and welcoming. It was the very glue that kept everything in her intact. Without those connections, the bond of friends or something much more intimate, she would fall apart.

He knew because she told him so once.

A wave of nauseous guilt had mingled with the settling fear in his system in a startling second. Suddenly, his mind wandered to what he might have caused her to feel-- the pain and the grief. Draco gulped, a cold sweat running down the side of his face.

She had given everything to him completely, even the things he knew he didn't deserve. She willingly surrendered all there was for him and he suddenly felt a pang of shame for taking everything she had to offer. Draco's brain betrayed him as it flashed a memory of her smiling in that carefree way, when her eyes sparkled and her hand absently tucking a strand of golden hair to the back of her ear.

That imagd became distorted before it faded away, a new memory rippling into focus. She was now laughing, her silky dirty blonde hair framing her features like a porcelain angel. Draco couldn't point out the exact time it happened but he somehow knew that she was laughing because of him, because of something he did. Those memories had been stored away for too long that Draco was concerned he had forgotten about them, about her.

But he hadn't. Draco hadn't forgotten. He knew by heart, even if the details in his head had faded, that during that little piece of recollection, they were watching the sunset near Ottery St. Catchpole. She laughed because he had forgotten about the flower she had put behind his ear and he sat beside her completely oblivious of a pink lily besmirching his masculinity. She had melted into giggles when he annoyedly threw the hideous flower away and glowered at her exasperatedly. m

He gave off a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes, letting the details of her face infiltrate what was left of his sanity.

It took him a moment to realize it. He didn't really know what to make of it. He didn't know that the painful contraction in his chest was in fact his heart aching at the resounding melody of her voice echoing in his head.

Draco missed her. He probably wouldn't admit it, but he knew it deep inside him; painfully and bitterly.

He kept his eyes closed as the scene inside his head changed. Draco prepared himself for the worst as her voice speaking words of endearment slowly morphed into pained sobs. The once dreamy look in her eyes had been clouded by a steady stream of tears as she clutched onto his hand, begging for him to not go away, never to leave her.

But he did. He had stopped himself from thinking that thought long ago, but he did leave her. Draco remembered it too well, like it was just a day before yesterday when he closed the door shut, taking a final glimpse of the sobbing girl on the floor, scrambling to her feet to get to the door before he had gone and left.

Draco blinked back furiously, angry tears had welled behind his eyes. His fists were clenched, his breathing shalow and rapid. He suddenly felt mad-- at himself, at his own cowardice, at what he had made her feel all those time back.

You don't leave a person in agony without explaining why it had to happen. You don't slam the door at the person who had made you feel a thousand of different emotions in a single dreamy smile. You don't retire in bed everynight knowing that that person had had to cry herself to even sleep. It just wasn't right.

And Draco damn well knew that he had been wrong.