Always. (A Draco Malfoy Story)

Empathy.

Voldemort disapparates us out of the room and we appear in another house. It's slightly bigger than the house we were just in.

"This is where you'll be staying for the time being." Voldemort explains.
I walk around the room and actually see decor that I like. I walk over to the closet and see decent style: not too slutty, too prude. "Who's place?" I ask. He answers back, "Ben Deveroux."
I raise my eyebrows in question, "You're telling me Deveroux did this shopping and decorating? No fucking way." He chuckles, "He had a daughter who is no longer with us." I scoff, "So I'm wearing a dead girl's clothing?" He goes on, "I never said she was dead, Joy."

I look around the room a bit more, "So... this fellowship. What exactly goes on?" He watches me walk around the room, "Just additional training for when I require your assistance." I nod, "Right. Didn't you say I had to start immediately?" He replies, "I did. Are you ready?" I sigh, "I guess so." He grabs my hand and disapparates again.

-

After a long day of training, I grew exhausted. I apparated into my new home and plopped onto the bed. 'I should be honored that I was chosen to be his heir.'
But bloody fucking hell, was I tired.

I tossed my dirty clothes into the laundry and heard something fall onto the ground. I bend over and pick up the ring that I shoved into my pocket earlier.

I examined it a bit. It really is a gorgeous ring. I wonder how it came into my possession? Probably stole it off a poor woman and was the only valuable thing she had on her. At least it fits me perfectly. Maybe I fancy it in my right hand instead. Wearing in on my left makes me look desperate for a man.

And let's face it, I don't need one.

I take a quick shower and pick out some clothes for me to sleep in. Whoever Deveroux's daughter was, is like my fucking twin or something cause her shit fits me like a glove.

I'm surprised when I hear a knock on the door. I thought I was here alone.
"Who is it? What do you want?"

A tiny elf walks into the room, "M-Miss, my name is B-Binky. I live t-to serve y-you." I squint my eyes, "Like... a servant?" His entire body shakes, but he manages to nod his head. "Alright. Well, I don't really need anything right now so... leave." He bows, "Th-thank you, M-Miss." He walks through the door and shut it closed behind him.

I could get used to this.

-

Draco stays in the room as he watched everyone else slowly leave, one by one. He sits on a lone chair, leaning against the table, his head in his hands, and he struggles to breathe.

He never should've left her that night.
He should have stayed.
He should have been there for her, but it's too late now.

He can live with the guilt, and can't make up for it anyhow.

Narcissa walks into the room and slowly approaches Draco. "Darling, are you alright?" He jump at the voice of his mother, "Yes, Mother. I just need a minute." She nods and leaves him alone in the room once again.

Draco begin to softly sob. His whimpers leaving a soft echo to dance against the walls.

He's lost her. She has no idea who he is. She has no idea how much she means to him. How much he loves her. How much he'll always love her.

Draco cried that day, more than he's ever cried in his whole life. He's never had to experience this kind of heartache ever before.

He's never felt this kind of love before.

And now he's lost it... and her.

Draco drags his feet on the ground as he walks over to his bedroom.
He practically kicks the door open, almost creating a shoe sized hole in the wood.

Frustrated, he yanks his jacket off and pulls his shirt over his head. He throws his clothes to the floor angrily and starts to pull on his hair.

How could he have been so stupid?
How could he have treated her like complete shit?

He falls to the floor, down in his knees. Tears filling his eyes once again.

He soon realizes that this was all Joy felt, before he left her in her room that night... and he fucking hated himself for it.