Unhealthy [A Draco Malfoy Fanfic]

glass chandelier

He took my hand and the golden snitch and raised them up into the sky, looking around at the crowd like he was holding some kind of trophy. The cheers became louder but were soon deafened by the sound of Professor Dumbledore's voice coming out from his wand

"Ah young love is one of the purest things that we at Hogwarts can experience, but for now, please head back to your common rooms and let the couple celebrate." His voice said.

I don't think I had ever blushed harder. This was all a mistake. We weren't a couple. And young love? This is so wrong. I wish I had stayed in my dorm, I thought to myself. 

Harry turned to me.

"We're having a party in our common room, you should come."

"Um, Harry I don't know," I answered hesitantly.

"Cmon it'll be fun." He laughed pulling me behind him.

Something inside me hinted that this was wrong, but it didn't matter. I needed to escape, to dance, to sing, to feel something again, and if going to this party meant that it would happen, then that was what I was going to do.

As we walked by the transfiguration courtyard, I looked over and saw an empty shell of a person sitting with his face in his hands. If it weren't for the hair, I wouldn't have recognized him. These past few weeks, Draco was different, but he still had this sort of authoritative stance wherever he was. But tonight, he sat there under the big tree that he was so fond of looking so weak and fragile. I stopped walking and just stood there watching him. His hair was disheveled, and his quidditch robes were thrown next to him, revealing his dark green Slytherin sweater. Harry realized I had stopped walking and called after me.

"Um, Harry give me a minute, won't you?" I managed to get out.

I walked over to Draco. I knew he heard me, but something told me that he wasn't going to look up.

I stood there in front of him for a minute before opening my mouth and whispering a simple "I'm sorry."

I wanted him to be able to feel how sorry I genuinely was. Seeing him like this made it feel like my heart was crushed under a glass chandelier that had fallen from the ceiling of an old victorian manor, shooting millions of pieces of glass deep into my cold, beating heart. But it was my fault. Harry had kissed me, and I didn't stop him. I was the one that unscrewed this deadly chandelier.

Then he told me six words that took my glass pierced heart and tore it into a million pieces. "I wish I never met you."