TOM FELTON AND HIS CHARACTERS IMAGINES!!

Least Deserving

You and Draco had been a team since your fifth year at Hogwarts. You were always friends before that but then something clicked once puberty happened and feelings got involved.

He asked you to the Yule Ball and everything changed after that moment. Draco was never the type of person who was open about their feelings. It took a lot of time and patience until he finally decided to tell you if anything was wrong.

It got worse after the war ended. He was paranoid and jumpy, afraid that Death Eaters will come out of the woodwork and kill him for betraying them in the end. His PTSD and paranoia didn't stop you from loving him.

You were going through your own issues as well when it came to post-war life but you also knew Draco was going through the ringer.

And him not liking being vulnerable led to his temper being one no one wanted to trigger. So you tried to offer him your help when you could see he was struggling worse than most days.

You 'prying' led to him getting angry and saying how you need to give him space or he won't get better. But you've been giving him all the space in the world and you didn't know how else to help him anymore.

After Hogwarts, you became a healer at St. Mungo's. You were quite successful in your work. So much so, they offered you a position at St. Jouge's Hospital for the Ailing and Maimed in New York City.

You thought it was the perfect opportunity for you and Draco to both get away from the demons and reminders of the war. You hoped that you would get the Draco you fell in love with back if you left London.

The evening you found out about your job, you arrived back to your home that you shared with Draco. You were excited to tell him the news but a bit nervous as to how he would take it.

You opened the door and the inside was dark. You knew Draco was home because his jacket was on the hook by the front door.

"Draco?" You called, placing your wand on the table. You progressed further down the hallway and peeked through the crack in the doorway of your bedroom.

Draco was sitting on the bed, staring at the dark mark that was seared into his forearm. You pushed the door open, causing it to creak and Draco stood up defensively, wand pointed at you.

"Hey, it's just me." You said, hands raised in defense. "Y/N," He started, lowering the wand and sitting back down. "Are you alright?" You asked. "I'm fine." He said with a small scoff. "This doesn't look fine. What were you planning to do if I hadn't walked in?" You questioned.

For months, Draco had been talking about trying to get rid of the dark mark. How he would do anything to get rid of the reminder of a very dark period of his life.

"I wasn't going to do anything, Y/N." He snapped. "Draco, talk to me. Please." You begged. "There's nothing to talk about!" Draco yelled. You were used to him lashing out so you didn't have much of a reaction.

"What if we leave? Go to America and just, start fresh? Or at least until we're ready to come back." You suggested.

Draco looked up at you with a look you couldn't quite decipher. It looked as if he was almost disgusted with you. "I can't just leave, Y/N. No matter where I go, this mark will follow me. It'll always be a reminder of what I did." He replied. "You never understand! You try to help me but you don't understand what I'm going through!" Draco added.

Now it was your turn to look at him in disgust. "I don't understand?" You questioned. "I, don't understand what you're going through? I lost my best friend in that war. Lost my parents because everyone thought they were members of the Order." You sneered.