𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

32 - I turn and Burn

After long conversations in delicate rooms, I felt wonderstruck-ingly overwhelmed with the amount of information I had just been fed- almost baffled by how I knew so little before, and how Draco was right, this world was truly corrupting- however, he was wrong to assume it is not as corrupting as the black lake, as there was a hierarchy only this seemed to apply to me,  

"Why can't I say his name? What is it?"

"You just don't- it's like an unwritten rule- unless you're potter" He spat vigorously that I could feel the air from his mouth brush onto my face. He had already mentioned who 'Potter' was, and by the looks of it, he seems arrogant, overtly ambitious, and obnoxious. What amused me the most was the fascination everyone had with the lightning bolt-shaped scar on the edge of his forehead. If that's what made him likable to others, then I find that it can be easy to win people over, here. Regardless, this lord he was talking about, the dark lord, sent my spine into spikes. The fear sewn onto his face only induced me. I could sense that Draco was too close to this, as he had mentioned some families are.

He told me about blood purity, the three rankings in order from dirties to purest: Muggle-born, Half-blood, and Pure-blood. This construct made me shy away from these four walls, as I was neither. I was a creature: something worthless to be categorized into these three options, but worth it enough to study in their care of magical creatures class.

"For the sake of things, let us keep one toe in the water and say you're a half-blood- plus, you would be from a French family, so even if you did make it up, no one would know."

"Right," I said, so quietly that he would not hear me if he were not nearby of my face right now.  "I'm on the waves of being tossed right now, Draco," He simply nodded at this, and I knew he did not know what to say. I think about it now, why did he bring me here with no plan of setting me in stone? Is this his simple impulsive nature? Does he jump into things without knowing where he will land? So, what if two humans had captured me in their exploration? What interest does this serve him to bring me here? There has to be more, more that I cannot grasp at as I am too close, tucked beneath his hold. 

Draco had gone to bring some supplies for me, as I had expressed my concern about how the other girls in the hallways always seemed to never look like me. They always had their hair straightened and neat, with no tangles or knots. They smelled of daisies and vanilla when you walked past them. Their clothes snatched onto their angles and their skirts seemed to curve just above their hamstring. I had felt out of place by just looking at them, and spent most of my time with Luna, as she was normal without making me feel strange. 

He had come back with a briefcase of items, explaining each one to me.

"You use this to wash your hair with water, scrub it in until it suds. Then rinse it off with this-" He held up a purple bottle that smelled of a lavender haze and cinnamon. The smell itself had left me at ease with the rest of his instructions. This all seemed like too much work to do for the sake of fitting in. 

"This is what you wear at night, this is what you'd wear at Hogsmeade or on the weekends," he said, pointing to a set of comfortable pale nightwear gowns, as well as dark-blue pants alongside a collection of shirts and jackets. He had also bought 'undergarments' for me, explaining them with a perplexed blushed look on his face, one that would only wash his face when his hands were in mine, which I could not understand. 

"Who'd you get this from?" I asked this because of how much stuff there was, all looking new and matching the shape of my exterior as if made for me.

"I snuck into Hogsmeade and bought this- which reminds me, you need galleons," He said, rushingly, reaching into the back pocket of his pants to pull out a dark pouch of leather that rang with each movement it made. I noticed on this pouch, it had the embroidery, M on the click. It was cursive and illusive, and I wondered what it would feel like to trace the letter with an ebb and flow; up, down, up, down. He pulled out circular pieces of metal as shiny as the handle on the door. Few were silver, most were gold