Dark Promises (A Draco Malfoy Fanfic)

Chapter 22

Two weeks have passed since that night at the Dungeons, and I seem to be getting a hang of 'Keeping up with Malfoys'.

We've created a sort of routine: Sitting far apart and quiet for breakfast, exploring the manor, visiting the forest, giving dirty looks to Draco, him flirting back, talking with Luna and sleeping. A cycle that goes on and on.

Knock, Knock, Knock. A sharp rap thumps on my door, jerking me to wake up. "Aah!", I yelp, rolling off my bed and dragging the disheveled covers down with me. My dark, jet black curls extended across the floor, yanking the blanket back over my head to avoid the daylight that poured into my eyes.

I crawl back into the warm, silky covers, brushing the rest of the sleep from my eyes and staring out at the sky, brilliant rays spreading across the misty landscape.

Awaking in the early morning is no more pleasant than it used to be. There's a brief period where I feel truly human, but it dissolves the moment I open my eyes.

My lids failed to stay opened, enervating and languid with fatigue, then widened, as whoever was at the door was still rattling and knocking.

The sparkling and enticing beams filtered through the glass, bringing strength to my body. Eventually, I got out of bed and staggered over to the other side of the bedroom, as my lethargy had not left me.

"What?!", I say as I tug the door open, glaring at the blonde boy, in front of me.

"I thought you like to wake up early in the morning". He says as he steps inside, totally ignoring the fact that I didn't invite him in. Forgetting that I was in my lace slip nightgown, he looks at me up and down, biting his lip. Bloody hell, it's too early for this.

"What do you want, Draco?"

"Many things, things you wouldn't want to know", he retorts, still gazing at my outfit which was revealing enough for him to stare for what felt like hours. I drag myself to the leather chair, grabbing onto my sheer robe, that pretty much covers nothing. "Did you dress up like this for me because I find this very sexy." He strolls towards me, closing in the gap between us, head facing down to meet my eyes.

"It seems like you had a rough morning", his grey eyes veered to the blanket on the floor.

"Oh, shut up!", I nudge, switching the topic away from the embarrassment. "Why are you here?"

"I live here."

"Not in my room."

"Just wanted to hang out; maybe on the bed over there."

"Draco!", I say with my cheeks flushed and a smile that was so hard to conceal. "Actually, can we talk?"

"Yea, sure", his brows furrow, eyes narrow in perplexity, less coy as he reflected off of my expression. I snag his hand and lug him to the balcony, reminiscing our days together.

Crouching over a marble railing, I feel the icy coldness under my jittery fingers. Directly overhead is the sun, not hot enough to burn me yet not cold enough for me to get hypothermia, and even in the winter weather, my subconscious is fraught with uncertainty. Smoothing the fabric of my robe, I rest against the column on my right with my arms crossed over my chest, warming me up just a bit.

After listening to his confession a week ago, I've had this unusual urge to tell him a secret of mine. I mean, wouldn't it be fair? Nevertheless, I wasn't supposed to be down in the Dungeons that night.

"You know, ever since I was a baby, I was taught to become the next Dark Lord. My father would teach me all the ways of being evil, but I never found it in myself to harm others; it just wasn't in my blood. I've always pretended to enjoy watching others suffer, only to please my father's expectations, that I was going to carry on the legacy and so on." I angle my head so that I'm looking at him. "I've noticed that I wasn't the only one. There was this boy that I once knew who'd smile, joke around, and would play with mischief. I never saw him as someone who would physically misuse his power for the wrong reasons. However, as he grew up, bad influences changed him to a different person. Now, don't get me wrong, he didn't become one of those dire people; instead he pretended to be one of them for good intentions. He did to protect himself, his family, and his lover. Yet, the more they pushed him into the dark side, the more the light faded from his eyes, from his smile. No longer is he that witty, charismatic boy but, turned sullen and depressed.  I just want the old him back."

"Where is this going?"

I scowl at him, annoyed that he didn't get the point of my prodigious speech. "I'm saying that you and I are the same. We both don't want to be here, yet we have no choice; if we did, we'd be back in Hogwarts, celebrating our last year together. So, whatever you're going through, please, just know that I'm by your side, whether you hate me or not."

"You don't know anything about me", he says with a passive tone, pacing back and forth. "I--I don't know anything about myself."

"I do!"

"No, you f*cking don't!"

"Fine!", I hesitate for a dramatic effect. "How about you tell me a secret and I'll tell you mine!", I shout, foolishly smiling at him.

"Okay!", he halts to think about it. "...wait, I go first?", I nod and he rolls his eyes. "Alrighty then. Uhm, you can't tell anyone this. If you do, I'll be forced to punish you."

I nervously chuckle, as my savage and erotic thoughts whirled in my head, fazing me into a daydream. He continues talking, and I snap back into the conversation. "I've never disliked Potter. If I told you the truth, I've pretended that I loathed him, only for the satisfaction and approval of the other Slytherins. To be honest, I think we could have been really good friends."

"Well, that was unexpected."

"You better keep your mouth shut. I don't want anyone to know about it... now, tell me your secret."

"Well, I have many to choose from. What do you want to know?", I ask, shifting my weight onto both of my feet.

"Hmm, do I want to know your dirtiest pleasures or get deep in touch with your past? It's quite difficult", he purrs, slowly walking towards me. "How about you tell me about your family."

I sigh in relief, afraid that he would ask me something else, but, this too might be hard for me to talk about. "O--ok...of course you already know that my father is Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord. Though, you know nothing about my mother and let me tell you this... I don't either. My father bestows very little information about her but, I do know through pictures I've found at home, that she was incredibly beautiful. And it seemed that she had this amazing personality, like she was the kindest and most genuine witch anyone has ever known. I could tell you that she loved me dearly, just by looking into those sweet eyes and the way she held me tenderly as a baby. However, everytime I'd bring her up in conversations with my father, he'd always tell me to forget about it and that it's not worth my time. And even with his harsh words, I would tell myself that he loved her once upon a time, and when she died, he faded into the dark side. I don't know if it's true or not, either way, it gave me faith that a man as evil as him, had fallen in love and was once a good man." I lower my voice into a whisper, hoping that he wouldn't hear me say, "I guess that's why I had faith in you, as well."

He's quiet, fingers twiddling with his rings, possibly stunned from what I had confessed. "I guess now we're even."

"Yeah..."

"While we're at it, I have one more secret to get off my chest." Intrigued by his sudden desire to divulge in the truth, I attentively tune in. "Recently, I started to notice that I feel some sort of connection towards you, like I craved for your attention. It's like all I want to do is spend my time with you. I know we've had a bumpy road but, I hope you've held onto your feelings for me."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Someone opened my eyes, mentioning that the things we lose, have a way of coming back to us in the end. It took me quite a while to figure out what that meant and I'm sorry about that; our feelings for each other is that something we lost, blinded by the corruption around us. Do you think you could give me a second chance?"

I suspected there was more under all the smiles, all the embraces, all the kisses and the pain in my heart had confirmed that. "But what about her? I cannot be with someone who can't give me his all because a part of his heart is out with another girl."

He gets closer to where our foreheads are almost touching and he's clutching onto my face, "Don't you see? It was always you, always has been and always will. She doesn't mean anything to me. I want you, I want you so f*cking bad."

"Nothing you could do or say will ever change the fact that I love you."

He widens his smile, happier than ever, and pulls me into a deepened kiss; memories flooding of the days we were together. His lips were heaven to my heart and soul, tongues dancing, and nothing was better than being with him. For I could be mesmerised by those lips forever, a paradise for all of eternity.