𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟺 - 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

Draco Malfoy

Oh sweet love was taking down Hogwarts, muggle teenage films could never compare to the dramas happening down the Quidditch Pitch or in the four common rooms. I didn't know if it had always been this way, perhaps I was too young to even notice the side effects of a love story. Perhaps, I was in the middle of it, so much that it blinded me. Or perhaps, I was above the very need of romance.

Truth was I once found a girl I loved. It was back in my fourth year, she was all I ever wanted. She was kind, she was smart, she was beautiful, she was the girl who held me close to her after nightmares, and who wasn't afraid to confront me. She was the best quidditch player of her age and she always impressed me when she was on the field. She had the prettiest laugh in the world and always knew how to make me smile. We shared our secrets and hearts for five months, was it short ? Yes. But being in a serious relationship - in my case - was a dangerous path, somehow chaotic. My life wasn't the easy, colourful and romantic one. Time, secrecy and values stopped our relationship. She didn't want to hide and I couldn't let our story go public. If my family had learned about it, the consequences would have been terrible. The girl I fell for wasn't a pureblood.

After the fourth year, we never spoke again. We weren't mad at each other, on the contrary, but either way, as friends or as lovers, it would still have been a secret and we agreed that we couldn't stay close, it would have hurt too much.

Sometimes, I wanted to break the rule; to run to her, to tell her that I missed her and wanted her back in my life, but how could I explain the mark on my left arm ? A mark I wasn't proud of. I fucking hated it. I couldn't get undressed without a loud and painful desire to cry over and over again. The very view of this black stain made me ashamed of where I was standing. I never wanted this life, I never craved for darkness like one would; like my sister would. Only the feel of it on my cold skin made me nauseous and sick. I would let my finger run over, slowly and carefully as if someone forced me to do so. I hated that situation and I hated myself, but I needed to remember that it was my only option to maintain my family alive. This mark helped me remember that I wasn't a normal teenager craving for fun and bittersweet romance, rather I was a soldier sent to a deadly mission. When I felt like giving up, I would come to my dorm, when Blaise wasn't there and stare at the old wooden mirror that was near the window of my room, and torture myself for hours. I would unbutton my black shirt, in a calm but stressed way, and let it slide to reveal my naked torso, my shoulders, to reveal my back, my arms, to reveal my mark. This mark was my fate, and I hated the world for being condemned to such a dark destiny. I hated my parents for accepting the fact that their children were soon-to-be notorious murderers. I hated the Dark Lord for putting me in this position. I hated that Hekate was happy when I was barely breathing. I hated that she was conscious of the atrocity they asked us to do, and wasn't terrified by it nevertheless. She wanted, almost needed everything that recently happened in our life. But what I hated most, was that I couldn't hate her, not now, nor ever. I only loved and envied her. She wasn't tortured like I was, and I wished I could have been like her. This is why the person I hated the most in this dark story was myself. I was the coward jealous of his sister's darkness.

It only was because Hecie accepted the mark, almost welcomed it, that she was able to find a lover. Perhaps, I just needed to accept it, to have a normal youth. Now the only question remaining was: how to accept to be someone you would hate in other circumstances ? I didn't know, and I couldn't ask for help. So I kept on looking at the reflection of my black stain in this old mirror, hoping that someday, I'll trade the running tears, full of regrets, for an evil, yet satisfied smile.

It was funny to see what a teenager was capable of doing, in the name of love. The passwords of the common rooms weren't enough to stop them, neither was Filch and the Prefects. I knew that because I was one of the Slytherin prefects, and so was Pansy.