BEAUTIFUL DISASTERS ｢DRARRY｣

PART 20

He ran.

Harry Potter ran through the hallways, avoiding eye contact with students and trying to keep his breathing steady. Within the span of an hour, he found out that he had a soulmate who just so happened to be blood racist and a follower of Voldemort.

He ran. And although he was only there a few minutes ago, he had only one destination in mind—Minerva's office. The witch clearly had some sort of explanation for this, as she had always mentioned knowing Draco's past.

Harry didn't know what he wanted—an explanation or to shout until his throat was sore. Draco was all he ever wanted, Draco was amazing and beautiful and intelligent. Draco was a Death Eater.

And God, Draco was probably a murderer.

"Albus," he muttered to the statue, which quickly began to spin. His heart was thudding. The mental image of the tattoo would not fade from his mind, as well as the tears that were building behind his eyes.

Finally, after all these years, he had something. He had something truly unique, something only for him. And now, he finds out that that certain something is not nearly as pure as he assumed it to be. It was tainted.

Even after what happened, he wanted to go to Draco. He wanted to demand an explanation from Draco, not from McGonagall. But he couldn't face him, he couldn't listen to a word coming out of that filthy mouth that had probably spoken an unforgivable curse.

He opened the door, and Minerva was right where she was ten minutes ago. She looked up, surprised. Harry's ears were absolutely ringing in his slight panic and desperation, as well as anger.

He told himself not to shout, that she had nothing to do with it, but the words spilled out of his mouth. "YOU NEVER TOLD ME HE'S A DEATH EATER!" The words were harsh and sharp but they tore through Harry's throat, reminding him that Draco was his, Draco was entirely his but he wasn't even sure if he wanted him anymore.

He felt so utterly betrayed, so completely used and fooled. Did Draco believe him to be an idiot? Someone who didn't deserve to know the truth? Yet at the same time, he hoped to Merlin and any deity above that there was a proper explanation, that he had the chance to go back to the classroom and fix it.

But he never had good luck, and at this point, he was already resigned to accepting that life had once again fucked him over.

McGonagall sighed in response to his outburst, and Harry slowly felt his anger fading away to confusion and betrayal. "Sit down, Harry," she said, and Harry walked over and sat down almost violently, the chair creaking underneath him.

"I think it's time to tell you Draco's tale, although I'm really a bit disappointed that he isn't telling you himself," she said, and Harry shook with anticipation. He wanted to hear this, he wanted to hear whatever justifications Minerva had for him. He didn't know whether he wanted a reason to jump into Draco's arms or a reason to slap him and catch a train back to the orphanage.

But in the end, he was in love with Draco, and he hoped to God that there was a proper explanation, because if not, he would have lost the one thing that was truly his.

"Draco was born into the Malfoy family, a pureblood and blood-racist family. Both his father and mother's sides were followers of Voldemort. He really was quite the troublemaker when he was younger. He would go out of his way to make Neville and his friends miserable, and he believed that everyone else was below him, especially muggle-borns."