Our Constellation--Dramione

Chapter Thirty-Two

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, plotlines, characters, places, events (etc.) all belong to J.K. Rowling, she is the rightful owner. When a character is created by me, you'll know right away ;)

A/N: HOORAY, I UPLOADED! (Cue Anna from Frozen "For the First Time in Forever") This chapter is dedicated to KelseySheldon. Thank you for your unwavering support and encouragement! ... Even if it's telling me that I need to write more, you are my inspiration. As is all the other lovely comments I receive, yours is the one I've received most throughout this crazy journey.

xx Madeline

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10 May 1998

The cell was cold and provided no mental, physical, or emotional warmth. Despite exiling the dementors to near extinction, the place still chilled him with their emptying presence.

"Big day for ya, aye, Malfoy?" said a cruel voice from the cell beside him.

"Something like that."

"Well, count your blessings. S'pose you get out, what's the first thing you do?"

"That's none of your concern."

"I'd find me a mudblood and strangle 'em one last time. See if I can't paint with the juices that come outta her." He licked his lips as if picturing crude images. The thought made Draco sick to his stomach.

"And that's why you're serving a life sentence, you rat-faced buffoon," he snarled.

"Easy words, there, Malfoy. Hard for a low-life peasant like me to understand big-man words. I's just picturin' me that lovely Penelope girl. A sight for sore eyes. Too bad I didn't see what came of her... she'd've served nicely as a treat for the boys."

Instantaneously, he identified this poor excuse of a man. He didn't have to see him know this scoundrel was called Scabior. He was present at the incident at Malfoy Manor, among the many snatchers that reeled in the golden trio. And he knew he wasn't referring to a young woman named Penelope Clearwater.

Draco could conjure a million reasons to hurt this man. But this perverted comment gave him a reason to kill.

"You sick, twisted bastard!" he growled, dragging his shackled hands to the iron bars, rattling it like a quake hitting the earth. He continued slamming his body impulsively, causing the old foundation to split in half, breaking holes in the old cobblestone wall shared between them.

The menace only screeched with interminable laughter, "I knew I could rankle you boy... you talk 'bout her every night in your sleep, only you don' call her Miss Clearwater, don' you?"

Draco could slip his hands through the bars just enough to snake his fingers around the man's neck, pinching his airways so tight so that the man couldn't breathe. Scabior's skin quickly turned purple as the seconds that he went without air increased.

"Malfoy--Malfoy!" came a voice from the prison entrance. "Jesus Christ!"

"He needs to die!"

"Malfoy!" Someone roped their hands around him and desperately tried to restrain him from killing his neighbor.

"Don't you even think about putting your hands on her!"

"Malfoy, stop! You're going to kill him!"

"That's the point, dipshit!"

Trained guards finally arrived on the spot and detained Malfoy, pinning him to the floor, as well as re-shackling his hands and feet.

"Alright, alright, alright! Let me go!"