a christmas break | draco malfoy - 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃

30

"... Flick the hand the same way you would a wand. Let the magic flow through your veins the same way it flows through the wand's core and out of it..." she sighed as she quietly read to herself, "Yeah, as if it's that easy."

"Having trouble, Miss Lilith?" She looked up from the dining table, watching Dumbledore stroll past her, sitting down next to her.

"Oh, sir, no..." she closed the thick book, tucking her hair away, "I was just reading the book I found on wandless magic. It isn't simple, as I recall you saying."

Dumbledore nodded, his own breath leaving through his nose, "Yes, well, as all things do, you need to practice. Tell me, have you tried?"

Yes, and I almost killed a student.

"Erm, well something did happen, sir," she said slowly, afraid to look him in the eye, alarmed he might see her secret, "I was practicing and I got a little annoyed. Actually, I got quite angry. And... I let out a spell."

Dumbledore stared intently, registering every word she said. He furrowed his brows, afraid of what she might say next, "What are you saying?"

"Well, this green magic came out of my fingertips and... I knocked a few books over," Books and a whole human, she thought to herself, "But, it was weird because the book says one must be calm and concentrated to do wandless magic. I wasn't either."

Albus stared at the book on the table, his brain working, almost being able to hear the machinery that is his mind work. He voiced his thoughts to her, assuring her to practice and continue as she is. But as Astera recieved advice on something that interested her, Draco was alone in the Room of Requirement, his knuckles bruised from the contact of his skin to the wooden cabinet.

His breaths were heavy and fast, his head spinning and colours making him sick. His stomach turned and rumbled as he voiced out spells, cussing himself for telling Snape the cabinet was almost finished. Why did he lie, that stupid boy?

His fingers grabbed the quill he left on an old desk, scratching off the spell he had just used. His body was limp and tired. It felt as if the days were an endless loop when he was there. Like a film with no ending. Just characters going on forever. The blouse he wore was unbuttoned, exposing his chest as the first three buttons laid on his body. His sleeves were rolled up messy, exposing the covered up Dark Mark that was barely healing.

"Dammit!" his fists crashed against it again, laying his head on the wood and exhaling roughly, "I can't do this now."

He slumped himself on the floor, resting his back on the cabinet. He cursed it many times, talking to it as if it would talk back like a human. Draco's mind had separated into two dueling brains, both fighting over what was more important. The voices in his head constantly argued over his family, Snape, the Dark Lord, the legacy he had to keep and the girl he had kissed. A mudblood.

He was caught in an endless loop of thoughts and ideas, not sure whether he should just keep going with the lie he feeds her, or come clean to both her and Snape, possibly getting killed by one of them. The double life he had been keeping up for both parties was draining him out, frightening him that he might accidentally spill something to the wrong side. It was becoming too confusing for him. Too exhausting.

But, something that had made him anxious was her. Not her literally, more about what they were going to do when Christmas was over. Was he going to hold her hand proudly in the halls, or was he going to push her away, make her hate him and keep her safe? What would they do when the seasons change? Would either of them stand by each other, or would they be enemies again, fighting on different sides? Draco knew what was coming. A war. And he was on the side she feared and hated.