XIX

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Draco laid in this bed, his feet stuck out from the blankets and he wiggled his toes just a bit. Week's passed by like minutes and he found himself wishing for once, that he could slow down time. He was in no rush to enter a war. Draco spent little time with his parents during the duration of the past weeks, although Y/n was usually being called in by Bellatrix who was most pleased with her.
"She says i'm just like her...Draco please tell me i'm not." Y/n would whisper to him as they laid on the hard wood floors.
"You're not." He'd say back barely above a whisper.
Draco knew she couldn't be like Bellatrix, if she was like Bellatrix she would have killed anyone of those Mudbloods the second she had the chance. He knew how much all of this was killing her, and in some ways that hurt him even more. It hurt him that she was here, because he knew that she could be anywhere else...even the Weasleys would be a better place. It was eating him alive, the guilt, the stress, the anxiety, everyday was excruciating. Although he was not alone in this agony, Y/n felt the same.

Every day she woke up, and she wished that she was with her parents, six feet under ground. If it wasn't for Draco she was almost positive she would have given up by now, but when her mind traveled in to those dark places, she liked to imagine that house, with a boy running around with blonde hair like his father, and maybe a cat or two. Little did Y/n know Draco imagined the same thing. It seemed the only thing that kept them going was the hope of a future together. As time passed the imaginations got more detailed, sometimes Draco thought about telling her his fantasy's, however he didn't want to give her any false hope. Yet he couldn't help himself from dreaming, especially during the small moments, moments like right now where he stood in front of Y/n who was standing quietly in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea.
"I like your ears." Draco said, instantly regretting opening his mouth.
"My ears?" Y/n reiterated, not fully grasping the meaning of the compliment. "I like your ears too Draco."
Draco smiled, it had been so long that the expression seemed foreign to him. Y/n smiled back, and then dumped her tea down the sink drain and went to walk out, but Draco slid in front of her.
"Where are you going?"
"Bellatrix wants to see me...I-"
"I get it." Draco said cutting her off and placing a chilly hand on her shoulder.
They haven't acted like a couple since that night when Y/n struck George, and the gesture caused her to shiver. It's not that either of them were disgusted with one another, it's just that any physicality, any soft and tender moments just seemed wrong, especially when wizards and witches were dying every hour. It almost felt better to just be with each other mentally, than to lay in each other's arms.

Draco didn't leave the kitchen after Y/n walked off, he stood by the sink and watched her go out to the front yard. It was becoming warmer outside and they were finally able to open the windows. And although there was still a bit of chill in the air, Draco stood by the open window and let out a sigh. For someone who knew his whole life that this day would come, he seemed to be handling it extremely poorly in his mind. Y/n handled it with a grace unbeknownst to anyone else except for him, he knew of the constant nightmares she faced and the fear that engulfed her, yet every meeting she held her chin high and talked with such eloquence that Lord Voldemort and the others were fascinated every time she spoke. He wasn't handling it nearly as well, Draco was always in shambles, it was visible that he was always at wits end. They just think your shy. His mother would reassure him, even though they both knew this to be false.
In the distance he could see flashes of light popping in to the sky, and he knew that Bellatrix and Y/n were dueling in the yard.  Judging by Bellatrix's happy screams Y/n must be doing well. Draco had spent plenty of time with his aunt in his youth, learning spells, dueling, enduring hours and hours of stories on how disgusting Mudbloods are, and he was pleased that that chapter in his life was closed. But he dreaded the fact that it had just opened for Y/n, it seemed that she was reliving his bleak childhood right before his eyes.

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