Friday's Child // Draco Malfoy

23

Draco didn't even spare Juno a glance in the weeks following.

He threw himself into his work, spending every minute of the day in the room of requirement, doing everything he could to make the cabinet work. Working, and working, and working, until his body collapsed with exhaustion. That way he wouldn't have to toss and turn in bed. That way he wasn't plagued with nightmares. 

He realised he hadn't truly wanted it to work before now. But now, now there was a fire inside of him, an eagerness to lay his and Juno's relationship to rest, to become the villain everyone knew he was, to appease the Dark Lord, to save himself and his family, to stop pretending and just accept his fate, and his side of the war. And he was so close. So, so close to fixing it.

Juno on the other hand had spent the weeks willing Draco to look at her, trying to catch his gaze in lessons, and in the Great Hall, whenever he would actually turn up. She'd spoken to Blaise who'd merely given her a sad smile, a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and shook his head. She'd owled him notes and letters, just wanting an explanation. She was distraught, and confused, but worst of all - angry. Juno Lovegood was so angry she feared she may explode into flames. Never had she felt such a fury in her life. She was normally so level headed and placid. But Juno was just so angry with Draco.

After everything?

Every week. Every conversation. Every emotion. Every secret. Every moment. The vow. The letters. The shoes. The trip to Hogsmeade. The common room. The kitchens. After their entire friendship? The first friendship during both of their times at school that meant something? He could just give it up like that?

Without so much as a goodbye?

Without an explanation?

Would they go to war without goodbye?

Would that bitter memory of him leaving her naked by the lakeside, confused and yearning, would that be the final memory of him etched into her mind?

Would her vision of him always be tainted now?

Would one of them die?

Would they die without ever having said goodbye?

The thought was enough to sicken her. She couldn't believe he could do that. That he could care so little. That he could know their time was sacred, and short, that soon they would be enemies and one could end up dead and he could leave it on such an indignant note.

Had she been a fool?

Had she always been a fool?

To accept so readily and love so easily? To feel the good in everyone? Had she been a fool for thinking Draco Malfoy was anything less than what she had expected him to be? Had she really been naive enough to believe she would be exempt from his cruelty?

She was a fool. A foolish, foolish girl. A girl so foolish to fall so foolishly and blindly in love with a man like Draco Malfoy. She had to be a fool. To love him.

She'd opened up an irreparable wound. A self inflicted wound. No matter the care, the stitches, the bandages - no matter, it would weep, and weep, and weep. A constant flow of blood, blood, blood, and pain, and stitches splitting. A wound that would only worsen as she fought against him in war. A wound that would throb and pulse as she fought for good and he fought for evil.

Foolish, foolish girl. Falling in love with a boy who fought for evil.

Her performance in the DA meetings had significantly improved. She cast spells with ferocity, precision and fire. She was careless, and reckless, and angry, and it channeled through her wand and she'd make the entire room quiver as she so effortlessly fought duels and took on any challenge Harry threw at her. The fuel of the anger Draco had created inside of her made her a force to be reckoned with.