Black swan

On top of the Grave

[ Mount Everest- Labrinth]

Quick A/N= this song plays when Draco is thinking about what he done, when Ophelia dances, and when they get freakyyyy. Okay enjoy x

⚠️😼smut😼⚠️

*Draco*

2 months had felt like 2 years. 20 years. 2 decades. 2 centuries

It felt like a revolving door of tasks and jobs. Responsibilities and chores.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes dead, jaw realigned with the sharpness of watching death.

"Draco my boy. Sit. Come eat with us." His eyes were slits. Watching me enter my own dining room with caution. Unsure on weather he would allow me to sit with them. My father motioning for the chair in front of him, my mother not making eye contact but only looking at her plate as she cut her meat.

"Draco. How does it go at Hogwarts. Have the Carrow's been treating it well? Has much changed since our last visit" He hisses the snake coiling around the bottom of the chair as she hissed too, the noise ringing in my ear.

I slink into my chair and grab my glass, red wine already in there and so I took a sip.

"No my lord. Nothing has changed, but they are keeping a good hold on all the students there, even the professors. Many wont say much, and those that do get a beating."

He sits back. Examining the table before peeling his lips back into a smile.

"Excellent. Please eat. Enjoy this meal that was prepared for us."

And I do. I start spooning meat onto my plate not looking at anyone. Refusing to look at those around me, conversations of their next plan whipping around the air like a belt.

"You know, Bellatrix mentioned earlier my lord, that you have plans on advancing towards Hogwarts."

Dolohov.

He doesn't reply to Dolohov instantly, he instead lowers some meat from his plate into the mouth of Nagini, her jaws wrapping around it before she slumps back onto the floor and under his robe my throat tightening along with her muscles as she curled and vanished. My mouth going dry.

I fucking hate snakes.

"I always have a plan Dolohov. Do not discredit that from me simply because another person told you."

Dolohov mutters a hasty apology and sinks into his chair, his face drawn down toward the table as people slowly being to turn back to their plates.

"Pettigrew. Bring me the woman"

And then Pettigrew was gone, hobbling out the room only to return moments later with a scuffled woman who wore a shabby dress and a apron.

"aaaah. Caitlin. How nice of you to join us. This, is the woman who cooked up this meal. Isn't it lovely everyone."

Nobody speaks. People nod and make a slow mumble that could be passed as a yes.

The young woman stands at the bottom of the table, her hair ruffled and sprayed around her face, clear that she hadn't showered in a long time. Feet dirty without shoes as she shuffled around eyes darting. Looking for a way out. A way to run away.

No point love. You aren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Come to me darling. Come. Let me show the men. Come on."