Hidden Feelings - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Sixty-Two

Two weeks in total have passed when the door opens and it isn't Draco coming to greet me.

I'm tired, aching, and hungry when I stand, Pettigrew waving me forward. I wonder if they're finally letting me out as I grip the railing tightly on my way up the steps. I haven't told the death eaters I'll do what they want, yet. I haven't let Draco do it either. It was one thing saying I would, but another to actually admit it to the enemies.

To become a true death eater.

My time alone in the dungeon hadn't been all that easy. Whenever Draco left the dungeon, my certainty of the decision faltered, along with the idea that I could hurt someone in the first place. I swing wildly between the ideas, protecting Draco and my father or my own pride. How much would they really have me do? They wouldn't have me kill someone like they wanted Draco to. I'm not on his level of death eater hierarchy. It's clear no one truly trusts my father, and although I haven't heard much of what he's been forced to do, I see him sticking around the manor far more often than any of the others.

I know I'm naive thinking it, but it's all I can do to stick with my decision. My promise.

"Lucius will talk to you soon," Pettigrew drawls, not giving me another glance. I frown, watching him continue down the hall away from the staircase.

"That's it? I'm free?"

He doesn't slow, waving over his shoulder. "I wouldn't run again, but yes. You're free."

I start upstairs, shaky and weaker than I imagined. The lights of the manor are harsh and hurt my eyes in contrast to the darkness of the dungeon, so I squint a little as I move as swiftly as I'm capable of toward my room. I need a shower so bad.

After a solid half hour scraping the remains of the cell off of me, I step out of the comforting warm stream, wrapping a towel around me as I reenter my room. The sensation of not being locked up anymore is odd, exciting, yet I can't feel anything but the overwhelming dread that I know is coming with this supposed freedom.

The outside world still thinks I'm dead. My friends, my mom...that terrifies me. And it's just another reason for them to keep me controlled.

There's a knock on the door. I wrap the towel tighter around me, and slowly step forward.

"Who is it?"

"Draco." I let out a tiny sigh of relief, but only crack the door to look at him.

"Hi. Sorry, I'm a little..." I glance down then back up at his widening eyes. "Preoccupied. Could you give me a minute?"

He laughs softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

I shut and lock the door, grabbing clean clothes to put on. A minute later, I open the door all the way to let Draco in.

"They let you out?" he asks, moving straight forward to sit on the edge of my bed. I nod, standing with my back pressed against the door.

"Yeah. I never...I don't know why they did." I brush some of the damp hair from my face, smoothing it back. "Do you?"

His brow furrows. "They might be giving you another chance."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "Right."

"Are you going to do it?" he asks. I purse my lips, nodding.

"Yeah. Yeah, I said I would, and I want to...I need to protect you."

"And I need to protect you." He offers a weak smile, taking a breath. "Hard to do when you keep talking back to literal death eaters."

I roll my eyes, abandoning the door to sit next to Draco on my bed. His arm instinctively loops around my waist, pulling me in close. It feels so much better, not having to worry about anyone finding out. While we're not safe here in literal terms, our relationship is. Everyone on the other side of the door knows, and while that's not a good thing, it means we don't have to treat this as a basic secret.