If I Love You : A Drarry Fanfiction

Chapter Eight : Blade

Draco POV

The pain.

How I missed this pain.

The pain that tells me I'm worthless.

The bad part is, it's true.

I hated when I use this mistake as a form of aggression.  A form succession. A form of a weapon. I constantly think 'I'll teach them'.  But I'm refusing the lesson.

"Dr-draco honey? Are you ok dear?" Mother. Shit.

"Yes. I'm fine." I've lied like this many times before. I'm just glad my mother hasn't caught on yet. Father wouldn't care. The only people who know are Pansy, Blaise, and the house elves that clean my room. I couldn't care less.

"O-ok dear. Do you w-want me too bring up lunch for you honey?"

"No thank you mother. Please leave."

As I heard the fading of footsteps, my favorite house elf, the smallest house elf, had entered my room to clean. Thankfully she ignored the bleeding wrist of mine.

"Hello Master Draco. Did you sleep well?" She asked. The house elves are always so kind. I want to help them.

"Not very. What about you, Winny? And please don't call me 'Master'. Draco is fine."

"Sorry Mas-Draco. But I slept well. Can I get you anything Master Draco?" I groaned when she called me master again. But I gave up correcting her.

"No, Winny. I'll be fine," and with that, she was off.

~Later Thay Day~

I looked at the wounds. The blood. The blade. I regret nothing. I deserve this. I've been trying to cut off my mark for the past six hours. Only instead cutting my forearm.

I didn't mind either way. But the mark... it's like the mark is deeper than skin.

As I struggled to cut off my new "beloved" death eater mark of mine, Winny entered my room with a sense of urgency.

"Mr. Draco.  Master Narcissa and Master Lucius have asked for your presence as soon as possible. Also you must be off to go back to school tomorrow," she finishes with an exasperated breath. At least she stopped calling me master.

I wrapped my lower arm in bandages and put on a oversized sweatshirt. When I entered the family room, mother burst into tears.

"Mother? What's wrong?" This was unusual for her.

"It seems that your inheritance will be more than just the mark, boy. You... your mother... you are half veela," my father said as smoothly as he could.

Veela?

Me?

What?