After Saving Draco [ONGOING / REWRITING]

chapter twenty-two

[WARNING] — Some chapters from here on out may contain stronger language.
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Tala. 107 days before May 4, 1999.

      When Draco Malfoy makes an ill-fated promise, he keeps it.

      "Don't make this harder for me..."

      "You know what, maybe I will."

      "And that, is why we are not together right now."

      In a short span of 3 days, he quickly decided that it was now his life's mission to make my own life as insufferable as possible, oblivious as if that weren't the case already. Instead of saving Draco's victims from his cheap attempts at power, like I have done everyday for the first half of the school year, I found myself at the opposite end – falling victim to taunts at every corner I turned, impossible to escape his decline in growth. Though, I could see through his petty insults.

      "Hi Half-ling," he sneered, desperately wanting to say 'hi Tiny' instead.

      It was a cold day today, pieces of snow falling at the top of my head from the branches of the swaying trees, the winter breeze pushing past impolitely, as if scolding me for skipping classes. Sitting against the cold cobblestone on the frozen grass, I was comforted by the initials of my parents while the well it was carved into continued to chip and crack with age. I kept picking off the petals from today's white rose, playing a sinister version of 'does he love me or does he not', switching the words out with 'should I keep going or should I give up'.

     And once it had finally ended with 'keep going', I split the petal in two, ending the game with 'give up' – mirroring a feeling that's been brewing inside of me.

     I was hiding away again, finding no reason to participate as everyone studied relentlessly for the upcoming N.E.W.T. exams, knowing I wouldn't be able to take them myself. I was only attending classes for the social aspect of it at this point, trying to hold onto the time I had left with friends.

      "Missing Mum and Dad?" A voice crept up.

      I didn't need to look up because I already knew who it was, the scent of vanilla giving it away, but I did anyway due to their neutral tone – almost as if it came with the slightest hint of empathy. I met a pair of silver eyes, almost enchanted for a moment until a trail of chuckles came from behind them, causing my head to whip harshly in another person's direction instead, dismissing a moment of weakness immediately.

      "What Mum and Dad?" Goyle chuckled cruelly, misreading the tone. "She's an orphan, even her foster families didn't want her."

      A million thoughts played in my head all at once, like lava gradually filling to the top of a volcano – ready to erupt. I could feel the heat run along my veins, my ears and head visibly turning red at Gregory Goyle's words, so hot that the winter that surrounded us started feeling like the heatwaves in New York during the summertime.

      The audacity.

      "Not Cool," Zabini said, sending a sharp glare at him.

      Draco's mouth had dropped to the ground like Blaise and I's, about to shoot bullets of words out at either Goyle and I – not giving away his emotions, tipping the balance on the scale of whether he should act on the part of him that was light or dark. But before he could even get a single word out, I was already on top of Goyle – my knuckles turning a dark red almost instantly.

      "You son of a bitch!" I continued to punch him, his consciousness slipping away.

      Draco and Blaise's shouts started to blur together, variations of 'stop' clashing against one another. I continued to ignore them until the moment they struggled to pull me off of Goyle, preventing a mistake that I would regret later as I proceeded to spit out curses.