Part twentyeight

3.6K 127 21
                                    

Dear Ellie,
Your third letter came, and it's tearing me apart not to send you a reply, but I can't, I do not dare. I do not expect you to understand, and I do most certainly not expect you to stand by me. I cannot ask you to wait for me as I sort my mess out, but I wish I could. I hope you and your family are well, and I hope you are having the summer break that you deserve. Something tells me that a muggle summer by the beach, as far away from the wizarding world as possible, would be the most joyous way possible to spend the summer, and I wish I could tell little Rebecka sorry for not joining you. Some things just turned out so different from what I had planned for, so different from what I had wanted. My mother isn't doing too well, being without the other half of her heart is tearing her apart. I can understand, I feel it too, for you. In times like this, I feel her motherly love more than ever, and I am reminded of how important she is to me. I am her only child, and my mother has always put me first. She still is, putting on a strong and mellow face in front of me, however sometimes it feels like I can feel her heart breaking as she hugs me. I like her hugs, I do, there is something so very sacred about a mother's love, I've come to understand.
Still no word about my father, but I attended his hearing at the ministry yesterday and now my face is in the daily prophet. Our family has fallen from grace they say, mentioning Malfoy's wife and son leaving his trial. No one saw his side, no one thought about his wife and son living without him and they sent him back to that cold place. No one cares. Now we're awaiting his second chance. I feel so angry all the time my darling, I feel like fear has taken over my body and agony is breaking my bones. I am stuck in between something bad and something worse, and there is nothing I can do. No decision in my life is ever mine to make, except being with you but now I'm going to lose that too, for I am too weak to let myself be happy with you. And I find myself doubting if you even want to be with me, for who in their right mind would want someone like me? However, I am still thinking about you. All the time.
Yours always,
Draco

As she sat on her bed reading his third letter of the bunch, she felt rather confused. She could feel the pain laced in between his words scribbled with black ink, but she could not understand what he was meaning. Every sentence seemed to be some kind of encrypted message, something he wanted to say but just simply couldn't. She didn't know if it was because he was too scared of his emotions, or if he simply couldn't find the words. But she could however understand how broken it must leave someone to have a loved one locked up, uncertain about their future.

She walked around the castle looking for him, but she did not seem to find him anywhere. Hufflepuff played a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw, and the whole school was there to cheer except him. The Slytherin stands echoed empty of him.

Draco had been absent from classes quite a lot, and his grades had began slipping from what they had once been. He seemed to lose interest in Quidditch, the one thing he had found joy in for so many years.

She saw him on a Tuesday afternoon, his eyes hollow and his face gaunt. He looked like he had a hard time catching his breath. She followed him, wanting to talk to him about his letters and the hidden meaning of them that she wasn't quite understanding. However she seemed to lose him amongst the crowd of students. Frustrated she walked off, entering the girls lavatory at the far end of the corridor.

She sat down in the back, staring out of the painted glass window. The glass felt cold against her hands as she trailed her fingertips along it.

"You're back?" a agonizing voice was heard and she looked up to see Moaning Myrtle floating towards her "oh no it's not you"

"Who were you expecting?" she asked the ghost, leaning against the glass window.

"The boy with the high cheekbones, the pretty one who cries, I like him" Moaning Myrtle whined, tilting her head to the right.

Belong (D.M)Where stories live. Discover now