Chapter 44- Hope Shattered

71.6K 2.3K 21.7K
                                    

Draco stayed in the hospital wing for a few more days, only because Snape was forcing him to. He didn't care about his bloody health, he didn't care how heartbroken he was— all he could think about was the stupid cabinet. Harry, fortunately for Draco, was also out of the equation. 

But the thing is, Draco had no idea why he was so obsessed with it. Maybe because even though he hated his father, he still couldn't bring himself to let the Dark Lord hurt him. He wanted to. He wanted his father to bleed, but he physically couldn't bring himself the thought of it. Or maybe it was the drive of competition inside of him— he couldn't let the cabinet win. No way in hell. Not with all it's done to him. Or maybe because he wanted to get to know his murderer before the homicide was committed, get close to it, form a bond since it was the last bond he could ever make with someone.

Or maybe, just maybe, the cabinet was his rapture from Harry. Harry didn't exist anymore, Draco couldn't feel anything towards the boy, love or hate. He was just Harry. Just another person. Just another disappointment.

Whatever it was, Draco didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to. Everything felt numb, well, emotionally, however everything on the outside stung. His chest ached and throbbed. When he looked down under his shirt, he saw two angry, swollen scars askew. "Will these stay here," Draco asked Snape with tears in his eyes.

Snape frowned. "Yes. It's Dark Magic. No matter what you do, they will never go away."

"Great," he choked. "So every time I look in the mirror, I'll think about him."

Before leaving, Draco checked under his shirt one more time, wishing he couldn't see the furious marks. They crossed right over his heart. His fucking heart. Of fucking course they would.

It hurt to stand. And it hurt to walk. He could feel his muscles rip and tear at each step he took.

But did he deserve this? Was this the price of lying, the price of betraying? Was this the price of hurting the one he loved? And if it was, did he deserve it? Did he deserve to almost be murdered by his ex-boyfriend?

Maybe.

Every step dragged on longer and longer, each echo to the floor wracking with his brain. Draco had to bite his lip because of how much pain he was in. When he climbed stairs, he whimpered.

After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the familiar blank wall, and after doubled over for a bit to catch his breath, Draco met the door, the ugly, ugly door.

What seemed longer than the journey to get the the Room of Requirement was the journey to the bloody cabinet. Because on his way there, he thought of Harry. The bastard.

He worked the entire night, the sting of Harry in the back of his head, but more importantly the images of his mother being hit by Voldemort, and his father cowering in fear from so much pain of a crucio.

Because even though he wished he had different parents, he had parents. He knew them and lived with them. Because parents are still parents. His mother held him and kissed him when he was young, and his father used to take him out for treats before his heart got so cold.

From the hospital visit, he was still exhausted, as passed out during the very early morning.

Footsteps woke him, and he sprung to the shadows just in time with his teeth gritted. It was a boy and a girl, laughing, as if they didn't know the darkness sitting in the room they were inhabiting, as if they didn't know it was evil. They didn't know there was a death eater, a monster, in the room right there behind them.

Draco's curiosity overtook him so he began leaning on a table and attempted to get a peak at the vulnerable students. However by doing so, books that rested the table fell over, leaving a small crash to echo throughout the room.

Drarry- It Was All Just a Game (Old Version)Where stories live. Discover now