Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

F i f t y - o n e

This chapter contains violence and scenes of death. Please read with caution.

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'' If something happens to her, you're dead.''

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Draco Malfoy.

The wind tugged at his hair as he landed safely outside the Malfoy manor. Draco was relieved — he was pleased with the matter that Theodore's father wasn't sick as they feared him to be.

It turned out to be a lie — something none existent. Mr. Nott was fine, more than it, and he couldn't possibly grasp why his own father would fill his mother with such lies.

Draco's hand closed around the doorknob, and his eyes flickered as he stepped inside. Even if he'd been away all day, even if he left Amelie in bed this morning — he was happy because she said she wouldn't move.

She would be waiting for him, and nothing in this world caused him to feel more at ease than her, lying in their bed and him being able to stay close to her for the rest of the day.

As he took a second step inside, his heel nearly slipped upon something wet across the tile floor of the foyer, and his sight grounded.

Blood.

Blood was shattered everywhere, a path of it crossed over the ground towards the kitchen, it stained the walls and as the tips of his fingers gripped the wood behind him, to close the door shut — his skin drenched by the red color.

Draco's head shook, and the first thing that clocked his confused mind was Amelie. His veins iced, and his heart nearly missed its beat as he marched over to the stairs and with storming steps — he rushed up to their room.

Nothing.

The covers in his bed still held in a complete mess since he left this morning, and the slippers — his slippers, the oversized ones that she always wore, rested on the floor next to the bed.

She never walked around without those slippers.

His fingers combed through his hair as he slightly towed it back, and he ran downstairs again. He failed to hear the silent cries that echoed throughout the manor — because when it came to her,

His Amelie, nothing else mattered.

Draco's heart pounded roughly within, and a thin coat of sweat layered on his forehead as he stumbled into the kitchen.

His breaths hitched, and his arms dropped to his side at the look of a body resting underneath a white blanket on the kitchen island.

'' Draco—'' His mother said, softly, but his head shook at her words, '' Draco, listen to me—''

'' Is that—'' The blond choked out as his teeth gritted, '' Who is that?''

He didn't want to seem obvious. His mind couldn't properly process what he was seeing or who he was seeing. Who the person, resting lifeless underneath the cover — was.

'' No, it's not—'' Narcissa couldn't finish her sentence before Draco snapped, and he marched up to the counter, his hand shook violently.

His entire body vibrated.

'' Draco...'' Theodore barely whispered, his cheeks stained by tears, '' It's not her.''

His neck arched and his eyes that held glued on the body on the island noticed the bump showing beneath the white fabric — the shortcut hair slipping out underneath the material and the color of it. It held differently than Amelie's. He could place the shade of her hair and the length of it anywhere.