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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: betrayed by bones — hellogoodbye
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( 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘, 𝟏𝟔 )
Draco Malfoy stared at the Dark Mark on his arm in the ornate mirror. His Dark Mark. Claiming it as his own was a foul taste in his mouth.
It had its ugliness. The ink was blacker than the night, in stark contrast to his pallid skin which had become even paler after the month of confinement inside the Manor ever since he had returned from Hogwarts with one word ringing in his mind 'failure': His father's failure to snatch the prophecy had reflected terribly on him, and unfortunately, Draco bore the brunt of it. The mark of his father's failure seemed to swirl sinisterly in the dim lighting, taunting him. The two freshly healed wounds on above the ugly splotch only accentuated it even further.
Because all that it showed was that Draco was not a filial son carrying on his father's legacy to finally bring his family glory, but a scared cowardly boy who was frightened of the daunting task he had been set in the oncoming year. A task designed for Draco's ultimate failure, to humiliate him. He hastily shoved his sleeve back down and turned away from the mirror, his breath caught in his throat. No, he couldn't fail now, not when his and his mother's lives were on the line.
