This Town ⇢ Draco Malfoy

FIFTEEN

FIFTEEN

Draco was back to his normal, stoic self. His face voided all emotion that he could possibly be feeling, a scowl returning to his pale lips. Normalcy was beginning to return after the fitful, seemingly intoxicated, mental break. His eating returned to what was normal for a teenage boy, his rude remarks returning to his mouth.

Zinnia sat across from him now, knowing her closeness would break his shell. New rumors about the so called 'Slytherin Prince' began to circulate the students. This one detailed a personality disorder Draco apparently had.

"Please slow down! You're going to worry the professors differently!" Zinnia harshly whispered, softly pounding her fist on the table in front of her. Draco looked up from his breakfast, swallowing an egg he had somehow just crammed in.

"They want me to eat, my family wants me to eat, so I'll eat." Draco replied, guilt flashing in his blue eyes. Being rude to Zinnia was the last thing he wanted to do, they both knew it. But, it was something he had to begin to do again. He gracefully ignored name calling and just stuck to short tempered responses.

The pair still met at night when sleep alluded them, his personality back to what he wants. It was just an act, an act they both had to bear for safety sake. "You look disgusting when you eat, Draco." Zinnia added, mentally cursing herself.

He froze, setting his fork down. "I apologize." Draco simply stated, causing a few heads to turn at the Slytherin table. Apologizing was not something Malfoy's did, especially for such small, petty things.

"What the hell has gotten into you, Malfoy! Real men don't apologize, especially not Malfoy men." Blaise prodded, elbowing Draco in the ribs playfully. Draco looked towards him, a mildly creepy smile dancing on his lips.

"And you know so much about being a real man?" Draco sneered, the boys around him snickering. A first year poked Blaise's arm, laughing nearly hysterically at the older boy.

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy. It's all you're good for." Blaise remarked, returning to his plate of food. Draco did the same, ignoring bits of congratulations from younger students. Many had decided to join the older students to learn the ways of being Slytherin. No one truly liked it, but they tolerated it.

Breakfast was finished in silence, remarks being taunted towards Zinnia from other sixth year boys. With no clear protection from Draco anymore, she began a target all over again. Her disfigured looks were once again the epiphany of a generic beast, or even a house elf at one point.

Draco's heart throbbed as he heard every word spoken to Zinnia, but he needed to keep the intense stare. "See you after class?" He whispered, discreetly leaning forward to squeeze her hand before walking in front of her. Keeping his face contorted in disgust, he said, "I'm so sorry."

The tone was sarcastic, but she knew what it really meant. "See you then, and do try not to snog Pansy."

"Oh you know, I'll take what I can get." He winked, smirking as he walked down the hall to his class. Immediately, Draco's expression fell to sadness. Only for a moment, no longer than, but no one had noticed. His scowl was back as he limped to class, cursing every so often at his leg.

'Must've hit his head pretty hard when he fell.'

'The injury lasted months!'

'Come on, have you seen him? He's always been mentally insane.'

Fits of laughter broke out behind Draco, unknown that he had heard them. To change so quickly was a mistake, but it was a mistake that had to be done. Surely the papers would be asking his parents about his mental health, whether the suicide attempt or the insanity were real claims. He gave it one week until the entire Wizarding World would hear.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you could kindly pay attention in my class." Professor McGonagall chimed in, interrupting those behind him. He looked up, his blue eyes seeming almost pleading. Charms was normally his favorite class and with McGonagall filling in he thought he may have had the day off easy.

"Why? Half of those lot couldn't make water if it splashed them in the face." Draco remarked, resisting to urge to roll his eyes. That was a step too far in his opinion.

"Okay then, Mr. Malfoy, please perform a perfect Avifors spell." She asked, setting a class in front of him. Turning an opponent into an animal was something he was not fond of, particularly since his ferret incident fourth year. "Fail on the first try and you have detention."

Draco smirked, looking around at the class audience. He thought hard and long, summoning any and all energy he possibly good. "Avifors!" He exclaimed, opening his eyes to see the result. An elegant, long feathered tale bird stood where the glass once was. It's blue appearance made it look entirely fake, yet the creature was moving.

"Most impressive Mr. Malfoy, that spell is difficult for most. Your first try, I am impressed. Due to your initial lack of respect, I award zero points to Slytherin." McGonagall added at the end, creating moans of protest from other Slytherins.

Across the room, Hermione Granger even looked impressed. Most avoided all contact, but a few girls looked as though they wanted to move beside him. It always seemed like he was with Zinnia, but now since he was back to acting his normal way, actions seemed to tell a different story.

"So," Pansy began, "you're free from the beast. Wanna have some real fun?" She smirked, giggling as she leaned toward him. Draco's heart stopped, his whole body froze.

"Pansy you loud mouthed, pathetic low life, second hand wand! Why on Earth would I ever want to kiss you?" Draco sneered, poking her in the nose with his quill. A dot of black ink stuck on her nose, her eyes crossing trying to see it.

"You, you, you!" She eventually yelled, rage boiling inside. Draco winced as her hand collided with his cheek, fear overwhelming his mind.

"Ms. Parkinson! Stop parading over Mr. Malfoy and meet me in my office after class! Immediately!" McGonagall intervened, the whole class startling to a halt. McGonagall was normally scary, but her raised tone escalated the feeling of fear in the students. Draco gathered his bag and left the room, muttering the entire way.

When no one was wondering the corridors of the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, he broke his mask. A tear shed from his eye, his leg seeming to protest any movement at all. Draco could barely move the important limb, his mind stationed on other activities.

An agonizing walk to his room was exactly what he needed. Exhaustion was taking over, pulling Draco under to take a nap. Life had other plans.

A letter was neatly placed on his bed, the Death Eater sealed and out in the open. Everyone in the room was a Death Eater, there wasn't anyone in that room that wasn't. The paper crinkled as Draco opened it, the parchment paper falling to his lap.

Draco L Malfoy

War is about to rage onto Hogwarts, we will be invading within two weeks. The choice is yours who to fight for, just keep in mind you'll be the top of our kill list if you choose the wrong side. It's up to you, choose wisely.

The note wasn't signed, the Death Eater insignia was planted on the paper instead. Trembling hands nearly tore it in half, destroying the contents within.

Looking around, Draco noticed everyone had the same letter neatly placed on the foot of their bed. He knew their decisions, but his must be different. If he were to join and fight for Lord Voldemort, he would most likely lose any respect anyone ever had. His belief system would be destroyed, no one would ever take a chance on the real Draco. Zinnia would be lost emotionally, she would no longer love him. Destroying any hope at happiness he had left.

If Draco decided to join Hogwarts and fight, he would be going up against his parents. He would have to kill or injure his family. The dark tattoo on his arm would make him stand out. Zinnia would also become a prime target to be killed, most likely prompting him to die as well.

Draco released the breath he had been holding, tears now pouring down his cheeks. His body gave way, going limp on the bed. Moving seemed like too much, even breathing took all his energy. War was looming, war was inevitable. There was nothing he could do but destroy one thing he loved.