Potter? || Draco Malfoy x Reader

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It's been a week now since Wren left. Seeing her empty, made bed was a strange sight I didn't think I'd get used to any time soon.

Just like Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without Draco, it wasn't without Wren, either. And I missed her dearly, especially because I didn't even know if she was alright.

Surely, she must be headed to Malfoy Manor- she knew Luna was there. Would she make it in one piece, though?

The thought alone made a chill run down my spine, and I shifted uncomfortably on the spot in Draco's lap, turning from my side to look up at the ceiling, my head resting on his thighs.

My brows were knitted together tightly in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts creeping into my head time and time again. Draco sighed at the sight, brushing a loose strand of hair out of my face.

I fidgeted with my hands in my own lap, wondering why I was still wide awake at two in the morning, and wondering why Draco was still keeping up with me.

"You've barely closed your eyes in the past 72 hours, at least," He informed, a hint of worry in both his voice and his expression as he gave me a slight smile. "You need to rest, Y/n."

I shook my head dismissively, shrugging his worry off as if he wasn't 100% right.

"I'm fine," I added in a murmur. I felt his eyes burning into the side of my face, but I didn't adjust my gaze to look back at him. I felt fragile, and weak, and wasn't quite sure what would happen if I looked at him- truly looked at him.

Because if I was being honest with myself - I usually tried not to be - everything seemed to be falling apart; had been, for a while now.

Had been ever since that summer. I tried to pretend it never existed; tried to act like everything was fine. Like it was normal, even, to have been kidnapped by your own boyfriend's family and then tortured by his aunt.

Perhaps such tragedies were normal, for a Potter. - They were not, of course, but it's what I've been telling myself in order to avoid the fact I had to deal with those traumas eventually.

Because, whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not, they did scar me. And they did change things. No matter how hard I pretended they didn't even phase me.

The realisation made my breath hitch, and I was sure Draco had said something right at that moment. But I had drowned out his words, stuck in my own little world of nightmares.

This only made me spiral further down the rabbit hole of things that happened but haven't been acknowledged by me in the slightest.

The fact I couldn't even be near my own boyfriend when other people were around unless I were to insult him.

The fact my brother was somewhere out there searching for parts of Voldemort's soul in order to kill him.

The fact my best friend is on the run from Death eaters in order to rescue her kidnapped girlfriend.

The fact my best friend's girlfriend is being held hostage in my boyfriends dungeon.

The fact Dumbledore somehow trusted me with a secret so heavy it felt like a burden rather than a relief after I finally understood Snape's role in all of this.

The fact he died with the belief I was needed to defeat Voldemort.

The longer I thought, the worse it got, and my head felt like it was spinning so fast it was about to simply take off and leave the rest of my body behind.

When I somehow managed to catch a hold of my spiralling thoughts, I realised my breath had picked up quite noticeably, and I was breathing heavier than I first anticipated.