Becoming Flexible
I did not ask of what you wished for, Draco. I am your father. Not your friend. This witch is the one with whom you are promised to. Mudblood pet or not, I do expect you to follow through on the arrangement. It is the best interest of this family to have a pure match aligned. Your games have captured the intense interest of our Lord. The success of your venture, I fear, will determine our fate. It is best to distance yourself from the likes of mudbloods and half-breeds to intermingle amongst your own people.
Please, son. Consider what is best for you.
Your father.
Draco raced through the sky. The wind grasped at his flesh, his cheeks, his eyes as he pushed faster and faster through. Ice leeched in through his grasp. He was frozen to his broom. A sharp burn started at the back of his throat, followed all the way down to a pair of equally burning lungs.
He had received the letter only three days after the start of term. His father doubted him.
It burned to have that dark wizard rule over his life. Draco was in the power. He was gifted the choice of anything in the world. What he found was that he wanted a pet like Granger. He was not for contracts and courtship. The thing he liked was the way she was there out of her will, grasped in his. Her breath caught when he came close. It was fear and thrill all laced into one common drug that he devoured.
His need. His feed.
One common pureblood witch would not change his desires. Honorable or not. Stunning or not. There was little fire that he found himself attracted to that was not at the end of a Gryffindor's tongue, one that was so easily snatched out of her mouth if he did not like it.
The fresh air was supposed to calm his spirits. He needed to gain control. It was his duty to honor the wishes of his elder.
No matter how much he did not want to. He would. Because it was a Malfoy's responsibility.
The broom brought him down to the edge of the castle. Its relief somewhere up higher in the clouds, higher than he wanted to go. His feet dropped to the steady ground. Their want to run to her side was drowned by his duty.
Draco rubbed the broom shaft with oil, cleaned and tended to the bristles, shined the footrests before it was placed away. It was perfection. Neatly placed in his closet along with all the other aspects of his belongings, arranged in neat rows, organized, and spaced in three centimeter sections to prevent overcrowding of the fabrics.
A creeping ache crawled up the side of his face. He relaxed his jaw.
He took his time to assemble his outerwear. It was a ritual. Each movement a delicate action that was done time after time. The laying of his trousers and suit coat, the delicate handling of his button-up shirt. Tie. Socks. Shoes. There were all placed atop his school-issued comforter of silver. The enchanted stitching of a snake moved through the threads as he added to the collection. Cufflinks.
The time spent focused upon his attire made it easier to set the emotions aside. The dark box of his feelings was chained and sank to the deepest depths of his psyche. He willed it all out of his current position. There was no choice. His honor demanded more of him.
Draco took his time. He placed every item just so. The end of his wand textured his hair. He ran his hands through to shape their body. He'd liked the shorter fade on the sides. It was a more modern style than his father preferred.
It was not his father tasked with maintaining it so what did it matter?
He preferred the sleek look. It matched his clean image.
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Year 5 - Stockholm
قصص الهواةHermione is blackmailed into being Draco Malfoy's pet at the expense of her friends safety. He becomes obsessive and controlling of all aspects of her life. The harder she fights, the closer he becomes. Draco becomes more human than monster. So she...
