The Ultimatum ~ Draco Malfoy

Chapter 21

Draco felt something crack and ripple inside of him. Perhaps it was his jaw from clenching it so hard; or maybe it was something else. He didn't even know.

His face was twisted with rage; his ears hot as his eyes burned. If someone stepped in front of him, he probably would've burned a hole right through them with his eyes.

He didn't even know where he was headed. He just knew he needed to get away. And fast. His rapid, determined footsteps echoed through the manor.

He'd tried. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had put a lot of effort into being civil—being nice to her. He had lowered his walls, let himself feel things—for her. Just so that she could have a sliver of warmth to hold on to.

And—for what? His vision pricked with black spots. For her to see the real him and hate him even more. For her to judge him. To have her shudder at his words; to hear her tell him what a monster he is; to watch her eyes fill with horror as she looked at him.

Draco could not shake the image out of his head; the way her shoulders shook, the way her lips trembled, the way the colour drained from her face. He—had induced that reaction on her.

He snapped his eyes shut as he forced his mental walls back up, trying to push the image of her somewhere deep in his mind where it couldn't reach him. As soon as he let go, it slipped back up to the surface. He growled through his teeth as he continued to shove the image away forcefully, again and again, but it just kept bouncing back into his vision. His walls would not stay up.

A pained groan rippled itself from his throat as he shoved himself past a set of doors and stumbled into a spare bedroom. His head hurt, and he wanted to gouge his eyes out. He slammed the doors shut with a flick of his wrist and placed an extensive locking-spell on them.

Muttering a quick silencing charm, he paced forward, eyes glazed over in black. He stopped abruptly in the centre of the room. It was dead quiet, save the violent thuds of his heart. Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump. He took a quick look around the room. Then he tore it apart.

A flash of dark green exploded from the tip of his wand and he made a slashing movement, cutting a harsh, black line along the walls. Black smoke started seeping out of the tears in the patterned tapestry, tinging the air. He turned swiftly and pointed his wand at the bed; it exploded into a cloud of splinters and feathers. He levitated the shards of wood and angled them, shooting them right through a picture like daggers. The horrified portrait had just managed to duck out of the frame before the shards struck. A couple of gasps spread, and the rest of the portraits in the room immediately left their pictures.

Draco's dark eyes flitted across the room and landed on an old vase; he smashed it into a million pieces before he could blink. The sound rippled across the room. He walked all over the glass as it scratched from the friction against his thick boots and the marble floor. He suddenly tilted his head up, peering up at the ceiling and pointing his wand at the large chandelier that hung from it. He let it crash to the floor. The sound boomed through his ears as the ground shook and the marble floors cracked. He felt suddenly inspired, and shifted his gaze to the floor. Extending his wand arm, another jet of green emerged as he began cutting through the floor around him with force. The stone floor cracked up and rumbled in protest as he went. He didn't stop until he had made a full circle with a 10 foot radius around himself.

He threw himself in the middle of the floor in exhaustion, shards of glass biting into his skin. He could feel a piece of glass right beneath his hand, and he pressed his palm harder against the floor, letting the glass cut deeper into him. Not a sound emerged from his throat. He lay completely still, looking up at the ceiling as his breaths calmed, feeling his anger slowly slip out of him with his blood.