On the Run: A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Lost Hope

LIANA POV

Weeks had gone by, turning to months. It was mid-March. I still hadn’t heard from Harry or the others. I was beginning to worry that they were no longer alive.

I had no idea where Draco was. He hadn’t come looking for me either. I didn’t blame him. I’d been so cruel to him. I hated myself for it. I didn’t even know if he was safe.

I’d said that I’d go looking for him myself but every time I decided to, I talked myself out of it. This was the last straw. I had to see him. I had to apologize. I wasn’t expecting for him to take me back or anything, but a huge weight would be lifted off my shoulders if I told him that I was sorry. It wouldn’t change things.

I missed him terribly. There was no one to run their fingers through my hair until I fell asleep. No one to hold me close. No one to confess their love for me. I’d taken him for granted and managed to ruin everything. Not being with Draco hurt more than anything, and I was the cause of it all. I broke up with him. I broke his heart. I sent him away. It was entirely my fault.

I was depressed. There was no doubt about it. I was tired of being sad. The family owl tapped on my window with her beak. I opened it and took the letter from her mouth. I patted her gratefully and she waited for me to read.

Liana and Draco,

We’ve managed to destroy one of the horcruxes. We have to find the other three before it’s too late. I hope that you two are okay.

            I was far from being “okay.” And it was a shame that Harry had no idea that Draco and I had broken up or that we were no longer living under the same roof. I’d had enough. I had to see him this very moment. I shoved some clothes, the letter, a photograph of Draco, and money into a bag, slipped my wand into my pocket and went downstairs. It was the middle of the night, but I didn’t care. I swiftly wrote a note to my grandparents explaining that I was going to find Draco, then walked out of the house, closing the door behind me.

            Before I began my journey, I decided that there was one more thing that I wanted to see. I Apparated to England. I ended up on a very familiar street in London. I kept walking until I found the house that I’d grown up in. The memories I’d had in this house were fresh in my mind and they’d stay with me forever.

            The house looked much shabbier than I remembered it. The grey brick was cracked in some places and the windows had been boarded up. Muggles couldn’t even see it. I wondered if there was anything left inside, so I approached the door and pushed it open.

            The air smelled stale. No one had been here in months. The parlor was the way I remembered it, the shelf above the fireplace still had pictures of me riding my toy broomstick, taking a bath, and of me reading a book upside down as a little girl. Tears started falling down my face as I looked around the room. The floor was littered with bottles of firewhiskey. It killed me to know that he drank until he could drink no more.

            I went into the room that my parents once shared. The bed was unmade and he kept a picture of my mother, Ophelia, on the nightstand. She was smiling at the camera, holding my hand. We both smiled and waved at the camera. I remembered that day. My mother had taken me to my first ballet recital. That was when I immediately fell in love with the dance.

            I left my parents’ room and went to mine. The door was closed. It must’ve been too painful for him to look inside knowing that I might never be in the room again. I opened the door slowly. It was exactly the way I remembered it. I sat on my bed. I hadn’t sat on it in years. I felt like a little girl again. Before I knew it, I drifted off to sleep.