the girl who lost it all [d.m]

sixty nine: captivus

captivus: captive, prisoner, imprisoned

———

DRACO wasn't a coward.

Selfish, yes. Arrogant, most probably. Insensitive, maybe. But cowardly? He'd purged that trait from his system a long time ago.

And if walking straight into Malfoy Manor to destroy that fucking diadem didn't prove it, he didn't know what did.

But first, he needed to make a visit.

Balloch was exceptionally quiet—like even the town itself knew what Draco was about to get himself into. But his Occlumency kept most of the unwanted emotions away—the fear, the anticipation.

All he could think about was Elara's face, slack with shock as he'd pulled away. He still didn't know what had come over him. All he knew was that when she began to sob and claimed he was doing this to punish her, he'd been determined to tell her how much it was the complete opposite.

How he was doing this for her. Not to make her life worse but to make sure she had the best possible one. So that she could be safe and happy and live without a worry or care in the world. And if that meant sacrificing himself for this one last shot they had at winning this war, he'd do it without a second thought.

He'd never had anyone save him the way she had. He'd never even thought anyone could prize him above everything else—but she did. She'd taken that damn locket from the canyon and stashed it away to keep him safe. As much as it had enraged him, he had also understood. Because he would've done the same for her.

What he felt for Elara was irrational, wild and all-consuming—but it was also slow and steady. Safe. A soothing presence, a comforting hand through his hair. A soft kiss as they lay tangled together, a lazy start to the day.

That had all translated into three words—words he'd said so quietly, he wasn't even sure if she'd heard him. He hadn't been able to look her in the eye as he said it—but the expression on her face as he drew back conveyed everything she felt. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so shocked—and alot of surprising things had happened to her.

He hadn't even waited for a response. Hadn't needed one. He'd only wanted her to know—lest she think he was doing this for any other selfish reason. She was his only focus and he would win the war for her.

"Draco?"

He turned where he'd been about to step through the gate into the driveway leading up to his old home.

His mother was walking down the deserted street towards him, dressed in a muted green dress, two bags filled with groceries in her hands. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She slipped past him through the gate he was holding open and started up the driveway, obviously expecting him to follow.

He didn't. "I'm going for the diadem."