𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐄 | 𝐃.𝐌

12 | THE WRONG SIDE

Warning — drug use, suicidal thoughts, Self-harm.
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𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟼

It got to that time of the night again. A time, not long ago Draco would have been sleeping. But now, twelve-thirty am was the worst part of Draco's day. Every night he pretended to be sleeping but really he was listening to Blaise and Theodore fall asleep while watching the clock, slowly tick to twelve-thirty.

And when it did, he climbed out of bed, still in his clothes from the day and made his way out of his dormitory.

Usually, everyone would be sleeping. But not tonight.

When Draco opened his door he heard mumbling of a conversation. He turned and he was surprised by who he saw and even more surprised by who she stood next too.

Asmara, in only a hoodie, stood outside Seth Daniels's room. And he was wearing nothing but a pair of joggers.

Draco didn't know Asmara well but he never thought she would have anything to do with someone like Seth. A drug addict. Everyone knew what Seth was and what he does. But no one talks to him unless they want drugs.

So why was she standing outside of his room, half-naked?

The question irritated Draco. His brows seemed to furrow, maybe out of confusion, maybe out of anger.

But then Asmara looked at him, eyes meeting across the corridor, finding his burning stare immediately. Something like shame shimmered in her eyes.

Draco turned his head, closed his door and walked away from them. He couldn't care why she was with him. He had things to do.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

The vanishing cabinet. A thing Draco didn't know existed until he was given the burden the the mark on his arm. He thought the mark was bad enough but his task—

Draco wasn't sure what was worse.

To fix a cabinet so he can lead death eaters into this castle to do Merlin knows what. He feels like a betrayer, even though he's been on the wrong side all his life.

Not long ago Draco would have thought being a death eater was an honour. That was when he was young and he didn't know how manipulative his father was. The man Draco used to look up to but now hates.

Sometimes Draco gets so agitated over the mark that he tries scratching the mark from his arm until blood is dripping from his skin. The pain is a comfort compared to the terrible things he says about himself. Causing himself pain because he hates himself that much.

Because he knew causing himself pain was the only thing he found peace in.

Only scratching isn't enough, he wishes he could have a more permanent solution.

He's thought about it often. He's thought about how he would do it. A slow death would be how he'd want to go — so he would had time to know his pain is coming to an end — maybe drowning in deep waters. He would fill his pockets with rocks and slowly fall to the bottom, watching the brightness of the world disappear as he falls silently.