𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲]

f o r w a r d

"My lord, what do we do with the girl?"

"Ignis Vent's daughter?"

"Yes, my lord"

"Has she been tortured?"

"Yes, my lord"

"And she gave no information?"

"None at all, my lord"

"I want her disposed of; she has no use to us"

Draco got up abruptly from his seat next to his father. Knocking the table as he got up, some cups fell to the ground and he began to profusely apologise. Excusing himself from the gathering, he began to rush towards the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. The reflection he saw in the mirror was a mess. His hair had grown long, uncut and unsettled. Bloodshot eyes with the veins stood out like rivers on the white of his eye. Bags sat beneath them, large enough to carry the quidditch world cup.

"I must act fast" he thought. His head spinning and his thoughts dizzy from the deep vapour of death, that drifted in the room he had retreated from. He momentarily thought of about the consequences of his next actions. They sacred him so he shut them to the back of his head; although they where quieter here, he couldn't ignore the constant repetition of "they will find you."