black out days ✞ dramione

one | draco

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draco escaped his house the second lucius left. he couldn't exactly leave forever, but he just needed a few hours. days, even, but he knew that if he were to go for longer than ten hours lucius would come searching for him.

he couldn't take it—everything just... hurt. he needed to leave, before he broke and descended into madness. he needed to go before lucius completely ruined him. he just... he just wanted out.

hyperion crosses his mind—ah, his perfect, poster child older brother. perfect hyperion with the perfect life and the perfect family. it made draco angry—so angry he didn't notice when a branch completely obliterated or when he set a bench on fire.

dear old hyperion had it good, didn't he? he was born fucking perfect. everything about him was perfect. from his hair to his kind smile to his innocence to his polished shoes and sheltered heart. he knew nothing of what it was like to live in the real world, so why did everyone love him?

all hyperion did was choose the right person to be with. draco, at the age of five, had a heart of gold. when sirius came into their lives, lucius gave them the option that one of them could go and live with their cousin. hyperion automatically chose sirius and draco didn't blame him—he would've too, but he had a heart of gold.

if he chose his cousin, his dad would be all alone. so draco, at the age of five, with nothing but innocence and naïvety to his person, draco chose his dad. and my, wasn't that the worst decision he ever made.

he kicked the ground with so much force mud and dirt and grass flew everywhere, but in his current state of mind he didn't care.

the best part was, after they chose their respective guardians, they never saw each other again until draco started hogwarts. he was slytherin, of course, and he was one hell of a popular one despite being eleven. any malfoy was royalty, no matter the age.

he was revelling in the attention he was given—with a dad like lucius, who only gave draco attention when littering him with cuts and bruises and emotional blows, it was expected—and he made new friends, but on the second day he ran into his older brother.

and wasn't that awkward. draco, not with his friends because he was only returning from the owlry and hyperion with the weasley twins flanking his sides.

hyperion has smiled awkwardly, shuffling his feet. draco noticed how... bright he was. at eleven, he noticed things he shouldn't have, and one of them was the things draco himself was lacking that others had. hyperion was happy, truly, genuinely happy. draco wasn't.

"hi," hyperion had said. "been a while, hasn't it?"

and draco—he stood there, shocked, but then he nodded, biting his lip lightly. "yes, it has."

and then it was the awkward silence again. draco shoved his hands into his pockets and waited—waited for hyperion, or even the twins, to say something. anything. but they didn't, so he smiled tightly, politely, before walking around the three and onwards he had went to the great hall.

their first interaction after six years wasn't a nice one, really. it was strained and awkward and it continued to be until the end of the year, when there was a quidditch match between slytherin and gryffindor. hyperion was a chaser for the gryffindor team and was knocked off his broom by a bludger. draco, despite everything, felt his heart tug violently at the sight of his brother descending rapidly to the ground. however, seconds later, his brother disappeared only to reappear on the floor of the pitch, clearly only suffering the blow from the match. draco had ran to him, stopping at the bottom of the platform, hiding under the tower. he hadn't dared go any closer, or visit hyperion.