𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 M.R.

𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔

,,And I went home and dreamed of you that night." -A

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Draco's POV:

It was like a death wish imprinted in my forearm. I couldn't stop it from happening. It wasn't an option. They would hurt her, hurt me. She's everything I have left and I can't let them take my family.

The moment I received a letter in the middle of breakfast everything turned up side down. The blood in my face drained away. My skin most likely paler than a ghost.

The words stuck in my head, painfully written behind my eyelids. Nothing could change what was coming next.

I was oblivious to the curious expressions on my classmates. The awkward silence that covered the table. And for a moment there, I could've sworn my heartbeat was louder than the thunder.

But my face stayed masked. It was still a broken shell, needed for replacement. An even stare, only a Malfoy could acomplish.

And so I stood up and left with a court nod, charging to my room. My legs felt heavy, the halls spinning . In the distance, a small whisper scratching my ears, wanting me to go to my so like execution.

An execution is the sentence of death, on a condemned person. I was a condemned person. Nothing could change the outcome.

Saying that I don't have a choice is like saying the sky isn't blue. It's either death or a slow death. And I would always choose a slow death if that gives me enough time to save the only person that was there for me.

She was the woman that raised me and took care of me. The mother that stood up to my father and let no harm come towards me. But there's only so much a person can do.

The place I so called home felt like new surroundings. The smell of dark magic attacked my nostrils. It felt sickening cold and heavy. Maybe one day , when we survive this , I'll be able to call it a home again. A broken, fractured, invaded place. How ironically matching .

The heavy doors opened, twenty or so heads turned around. More than a handful without their masks on, leaving me to see their cruel smiles.

None of them bothered me, only the snake like eyes at the head of the table did. He stood up, like a leader.

And before I knew it, I was left on my knees. The burning death wish imprinted on my forearm. This was it.

I was damned.

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Y/n's POV

Professor Snape is a true pain in the arse.
Yes, he is a good teacher and very much creepy, but overall a pain in the arse.

After the moment Mattheo and I shared, it was a matter of time until we would be facing each other again. So I took the time I had to and distracted myself by attending extra healing lessons with professor Snape.

I admire him, truly. He's very passionated about potions, especially healing ones. If it weren't for his dislike for every single student and this cold face he's showing, he'd be very much likeable.

,,You need to stir it-" he started, staring at the potion I was currently brewing with small appreciation.

,,Clockwise, I know professor." I interrupted as politely as I could. It seemed like his students before must be pretty stupid if he had to explain to them how to brew a simple Blood-Replenishing potion.

He glared at me over his nose before nodding and turning around dramatically, strolling over to his desk and picking up a parchment.

,,Miss Nott, how exactly are you so known with healing potions ?" He asked not looking away from his parchment.