ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ | ᴅ.ᴍ

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘

SOMETIMES when people panic and have no control over how their emotions are swirling in their brains, they say the wrong things and the worst time.

I could also say that sometimes when people lie, they don't look into the other person's eye, the endurance of doing that doesn't exist — it hurts too much.

At first, he had his hands cupping my face so gently that he wouldn't let a feather touch my skin, and the next he had my back pinned against a wall. My heart was beating out of my chest so aggressively that I could almost feel faint — this was too much.

"What the fuck do you know about the Dark Lord?" He snarled as my hand was wrapped around his wrist — his hand holding the back of my neck. "Fucking speak, Young. Don't make me get it out of you the other way."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I hurled as my hands were pressed against his chest. His face was so dangerously close to mine that I felt suffocated. "I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. I'm only asking you, it's that simple."

His grip on my hair tightened as my hand curled around his shirt. "Don't make this harder than it already is, witch. Tell me what you know right this fucking moment before I tear your throat open." His fingers curled under my jaw, making me look up at him as my body stiffened against him and the door.

"Then do it," I argued, "you quite take an interest in tearing my throat open so fucking do it." I pushed against his chest as he didn't stumble. "I'm being honest when I tell you I don't know a lot, and right now was the worst possible time to ever bring it up. I'm sorry — I really am. I didn't mean to bring it up, it just came out."

"Didn't mean to bring it up?" He's questioned as he takes another step forward. "How long have you known this? Answer the fucking question." His eyes burned into me like a cigarette against your lips.

"Did the Dark Lord do that to your mother?" I asked. I wanted to hug him so badly, I just wanted to make him feel better. I was horrible at this, and I didn't know how to fix all of this. "That's why I asked, it was merely a question. I don't want to assume — I just — I don't know much at all. It was an assumption that seemed to be," I breathed, "true."

"Then you know what I am, don't you?" His hand traced the curve of my jaw as his fingers tangled in the strands of my hair. My hands by my side as my eyes are studying into features. "Then you're aware of what I should do right now, aren't you?" My legs traced back as there was a look on his face — a look I wasn't aware of just yet.

"You should be more careful then," I spoke as his eyes narrowed at me. "You're incredibly suspicious of people. Incredibly suspicious to a certain group — if you are a Death Eater, then you should be more than precise." I took another step towards him.

"Is it the orphan who carries an immortality luck," he questioned, "or that one family whose only trait is being ginger?" His hand was still on my face, I tried my best to look impeccably calm, I didn't want fear to range on my face. I knew about Death Eaters, I knew about the Dark Lord since I was quite the one helping destroy the Horcruxes — that they're supposed to protect if I'm right.