Post by Draco Malfoy on Jun 21, 2015 8:49:17 GMT -5
WORDS: 609 | TAGS: Hermione Granger |
No matter how hard he tried, Draco couldn't turn away. He wanted to place a hand on the freezing white stone, but he felt as though his touch would violate the body within. Then again, hadn't he already? A grimace spread across his lips at his last memory of the man. He didn't allow himself to break eye contact with the tomb, the man didn't deserve that. The eighteen year old was very aware that it was not his curse that had actually killed the man, but it had been his actions. His fault.
If Draco could go back in time he would take the old coot up on his offer for safety. Hell, he would have gone to his office long before and beg for help, on his knees if need be. Past Draco would have found the simple act to be disgusting, but now it's all he could have hoped for. A small part inside of him still found it disgusting, but he tried his best to ignore it. The war had taught him a lot, and one thing was how to not be such an ass. Kind of. The tomb starring at him was evidence he couldn't ignore. A short, bitter laugh fell through his mouth.
He often wondered why they even let him of all people return. Sure, the Ministry cleared him as A-okay, but the fading mark on his arm was a grim reminder of all he had put the school, and the wizarding community, through. Guilt was once an emotion Draco avoided at all costs, but now he was riddled with it. It had taken a while to get used to. He still wasn't. He hardly deserved to be, honestly. He just wanted to know, for someone to confirm that he was on the right path, that there was something that he was doing which was right for once.
His fingertips made a trail through the minuscule droplets on the marble. A ray of light broke through the mist. It was as cold as death. Draco jerked his hand away as though he's been scalded. Weren't freezing burns a thing? Perhaps it was that. No, it wasn't anywhere near cold enough, it had just been the past. God, he needed to think about things that were less dreary, it was really starting to affect his life. Not sleeping, eating troubles, graying skin, bags under his eyes, and he could even swear that his hair was thinning or something.
He managed to tear his eyes away from the coffin to look at the sun which was just beginning to peak over the horizon. It had already begun to warm up the air, something Draco was rather grateful for seeing as he was only in a turtleneck, not a jacket in sight. He was also lucky that the fabric of his shirt was black, made the light warmer. He glanced down at the marble again. There was a noticeable chill.
The slytherin sighed and gave up trying to fight what was going on in his head. What happened was gong to happen. Trying to fight it was energy being wasted. He sank to the wet grass below him and wrapped his hand around his knees, efficiently dragging them to his chest. He let it all play back; his inability to control the tremors raking through him, the wand flying across the room, his aunt breathing in his ear, the flash of green, all of it. What stood out the most was how gracefully he fell, his arms spread wide as if to greet Death like a friend. So serene. His breaths were stuttered.
"I'm sorry."
If Draco could go back in time he would take the old coot up on his offer for safety. Hell, he would have gone to his office long before and beg for help, on his knees if need be. Past Draco would have found the simple act to be disgusting, but now it's all he could have hoped for. A small part inside of him still found it disgusting, but he tried his best to ignore it. The war had taught him a lot, and one thing was how to not be such an ass. Kind of. The tomb starring at him was evidence he couldn't ignore. A short, bitter laugh fell through his mouth.
He often wondered why they even let him of all people return. Sure, the Ministry cleared him as A-okay, but the fading mark on his arm was a grim reminder of all he had put the school, and the wizarding community, through. Guilt was once an emotion Draco avoided at all costs, but now he was riddled with it. It had taken a while to get used to. He still wasn't. He hardly deserved to be, honestly. He just wanted to know, for someone to confirm that he was on the right path, that there was something that he was doing which was right for once.
His fingertips made a trail through the minuscule droplets on the marble. A ray of light broke through the mist. It was as cold as death. Draco jerked his hand away as though he's been scalded. Weren't freezing burns a thing? Perhaps it was that. No, it wasn't anywhere near cold enough, it had just been the past. God, he needed to think about things that were less dreary, it was really starting to affect his life. Not sleeping, eating troubles, graying skin, bags under his eyes, and he could even swear that his hair was thinning or something.
He managed to tear his eyes away from the coffin to look at the sun which was just beginning to peak over the horizon. It had already begun to warm up the air, something Draco was rather grateful for seeing as he was only in a turtleneck, not a jacket in sight. He was also lucky that the fabric of his shirt was black, made the light warmer. He glanced down at the marble again. There was a noticeable chill.
The slytherin sighed and gave up trying to fight what was going on in his head. What happened was gong to happen. Trying to fight it was energy being wasted. He sank to the wet grass below him and wrapped his hand around his knees, efficiently dragging them to his chest. He let it all play back; his inability to control the tremors raking through him, the wand flying across the room, his aunt breathing in his ear, the flash of green, all of it. What stood out the most was how gracefully he fell, his arms spread wide as if to greet Death like a friend. So serene. His breaths were stuttered.
"I'm sorry."
NOTES ;
It's early in the morning and really foggy out. Draco is wearing a black shirt and dark blue jeans.
It's early in the morning and really foggy out. Draco is wearing a black shirt and dark blue jeans.
＃ENY ADOXOGRAPHY
