Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

N i n e t y - s i x

Mature content ahead. This chapter contains mentions of abuse and emotional trauma. Please read with caution.

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''Marry me.''

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Draco was panicking. Never had he panicked as he did now. She walked out. Amelie never walked out on him, except she did now.

He hurt her this time. This wasn't about what he'd done a month ago or what he'd done leading up to this day — this was what he said to his mother. Malfoy wanted to leave when he was done protecting them. He wished to rest, and Amelie heard him.

Clearing that this was simply her believing that he rather fade than spend his days with her, Draco didn't understand how she got his words so wrong. He never meant that. He never said that he would leave her in ways she believed he would.

Draco loved Amelie. Draco loved Amelie more than he loved anyone, more than it was humanly possible to care for another. He cared for her.

Amelie was everything to him, if not more, and it crackled and burnt in his chest as he was left with the heartbreak of her walking out. She'd leave him. He knew she would. She said she loved him. She said he loved him, and Draco knew what it meant.

She was leaving them. He knew her deeper and more intense than anyone. She could simply look at him, and he'd know what she was up to. Hearing that tiny flicker of hesitation in her voice and he understood she'd place herself in harm's way.

Malfoy knew her better than she knew herself.

He wished to rest, indeed, but he didn't comprehend why — why he said it in the ways he did — why he said it like it was a choice, like it was a thing he craved to do more than to be with her. Foolish, he cursed to himself, regretting every little thing leading up to this moment. The door slammed shut, and the thud of it echoed along with the emptiness her absence brought.

Ache. It ached.

Everything ached without her.

He counted the minutes again. There wasn't a thing he could do in his chained position. Adrian had secured the bonds around his wrist tighter now, ever since he attacked him weeks ago. He couldn't get out.

So Draco counted. He calculated every hour that passed until steps began to sound through the basement roof and morning rose around them. She hadn't left yet. He could tell from the way she was walking upstairs.

He knew because it was always four feet. Amelie and Atlas. Her unsteady tracks, followed by the tiny tripping ones. Atlas still pathed her everywhere.

She must be waiting until dawn, Malfoy thought. She'd spend one last day with them before surrendering, and hell, how Draco would make that day count.

Knowing that Pucey would reach him any minute, he began to turn impatient. Adrian ever so paid him a visit in the morning before he did anything else. At the beginning of it — it shocked Draco. Horrified him almost. That Adrian so willingly helped him back into sanity, that he did everything he could to help Amelie get him back.

Nothing made sense to the blond. He despised Adrian, and he promised himself that he'd get his vengeance for how he treated Amelie all those years, but that wasn't what he prioritized because she was leaving.

''Morning,'' Adrian mumbled. His voice drowsy, ''Did you sleep—''

Draco rolled his eyes, not out to make conversation with the boy who stood with a shoulder brushing against the doorway, his arms tightly crossed, ''You need to push me today.'' Draco's words pressured, his eyes narrowed, ''You need to push me further than usual today. She needs me.''