Choice's Curse {d.m.}

Convergent

"You're not dying here," he retorted, clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Stop being dramatic."

" Do not screw with me right now. It's not the time."

Draco, still looming over me, pushed up his sleeves, revealing his strong, unblemished forearms. The way his veins traveled down his arms like strokes of a paintbrush made a shameful heat blossom in me as he stared down at me. "Threatening me? Really?" He chided, making me scowl at him.

"Not a threat, asshole, a reminder," I said. "Would you please let me out of this? The ropes are starting to hurt."

I made sure my voice sounded slightly pained as I spoke. It didn't truly hurt but I was hoping to inspire a bit of sympathy. Or at least make him feel guilty enough to untie me.

A flash of worry flickered in his eyes before he caught on. "See? Dramatic."

I let out a frustrated huff, feeling the subtle strain on my ribs. I'd been sitting here too long. My legs were falling asleep. I tried to move a bit, feeling the bite of numbing pinpricks, like ants crawling up my legs.

As I did, I let out a hiss of pain as the rope scraped harshly against the tender, red skin of my wrists. The sound must've been more convincing than my last performance, because his frown grew slightly as he moved to inspect me.

He tugged back the material as much as the tight knot would allow, getting a clearer look at the skin. I looked as he did, wincing at the inflamed state of my arm. It was red, almost flaky from the friction of the rope, and even the cool air of Snape's office felt too extreme on the hot skin.

Draco looked back at me, concern barely discernible, but still present, oddly enough. He seemed to think for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek as he did. "If I undo these," he said, gesturing to the restraints, "You have to promise you'll stay and hear me out, okay?"

My first instinct was to say no, to laugh at him for thinking I'd want to listen to his excuses, but it was growing more and more painfully annoying to be trapped by the twine, so I nodded. He let out a breath as he procured his wand, then muttered the counterspell to the one that had previously been cast.

Instantly, the material vanished from my chair, and I brought my wrists to my body, rubbing them like I had seen prisoners do in movies I'd watched with my father when I was younger. My sleeves had ridden up with the action, and I noticed Draco's gaze caught on the scar that traversed the length of my forearm. Quickly, not really caring that it was obvious, I slid my robe sleeve down, hiding the gruesome mark that made my stomach revolt whenever I looked at it.

Warily, Draco stepped back, as if he thought I was going to bolt for the door. To be fair, I did think about it, but I had promised him I would stay, so stay I would. Once he was sure I was staying put, as I stretched out my legs, he leaned against the table next to me, his arms crossed in front of him.

"I need you to just listen , okay?"

"Bu-"

Draco held up a hand, his silver ring glinting softly. " Listen , instead of talking, Elaine. Just for once in your life, okay?"

I bit back the indignant remark that arose, mimicking his crossed arms and leaning back in my chair. Letting out a slow breath through my nose, as if I was breathing out the anger and annoyance that was directed at him, I raised an eyebrow, indicating he should go ahead.

He ran his hands through his hair, which, I was beginning to notice, seemed to be a nervous habit of his. "I know that erasing that memory feels like I took something from you, and I did, you're right. Memories are...they're meant to be ours. Really, they're the only thing that are truly solely ours, aren't they? But," Draco let out a sharp breath. "Sometimes...they can be used against us. Sometimes, people invade the only real place of solitude we have. Mine-mine..."