Everlasting 2 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Rebellion

Upon arrival, Jack was still not asleep, and therefore welcomed you and Draco with a warm welcome. He was more than excited to see the two of you, and even felt it suitable to hug Draco when he saw him, which, though slightly taken aback, Draco reciprocated, patting Jack on the back. You were left to watch and stare, laughing, but ultimately warmed at the sight of their individual friendship which did not solely rely on you.

The three of you relaxed by having TV on in the background as you caught Jack up. He offered drinks and food; you all settled for pretzels. 

But, in all honesty, nothing significant happened up until later on in the night. You were sleeping already on the sofa-bed, which Jack and Draco had prepared. Draco had been in the bed too, but, feeling restless and finding himself unable to sleep, he rose from his position and headed through the darkness into the kitchen. He turned on the light, looking around quietly, hoping to not awake anyone. He chose a glass of water to suit his fancy as he filled a glass from the tap, staring at the water pour itself and fill the glass completely. 

He needed sleep, but sleep did not need him. His mind was painfully encompassed by you and the future, what he could expect from now on. He had actively rebelled against Voldemort in this moment; he'd gone out of his way to ensure your safety and security - the very thing that the Dark Lord was trying to tear down slowly. He hated to admit that, in the end, he was less worried for himself than he was for you. As he sipped the glass, he felt its coldness scrape down his raspy throat. Yes - he believed that if somewhere were to happen to him, he'd accept it. However, if something was to happen to you, he would not accept it whatsoever, and thus his mind remained plagued with images of you and potential horrors.

"Can't sleep either?" Jack asked suddenly, causing Draco to flinch and turn around to face him in alarm, but relaxing upon the sight of Jack.

"No."

"Me neither," Jack said, crossing the kitchen, also to the tap where he filled another glass and downed it immediately. "I'm worried for [F/n]." 

"Yes, same." 

"But will she ... will she go to ... pris - Azkaban?" 

Draco pursed his lips. He had not actually thought of that, and now it was another thing for him to worry about. 

"I'm inclined to say she may ... but," he paused, "she's [F/n], so I doubt she will, really."

"Yes," Jack laughed, "that's always a positive. We know she always gets her way."

"Exactly. I don't think Azkaban is something she'd enjoy."

"What do you worry about then?" Jack asked, leaning on the counter beside Draco, who also had his back against the counter and stared out ahead of himself in horror. 

"Everything."

"That's a tad dramatic."

"He's going to kill her." 

"Who? Voldemort? Oh, come on."

"You haven't heard the things I have. [F/n] doesn't even know ... I can't possibly bring myself to say it, or to even think of it. It's so scary. And it's not even him - it's the rest of them. They're insane ... they hate her so much. More than him, I'd even say." 

"What have they said?"

"Don't make me think about it," Draco scrunched his face, turning away in disgust and pain. 

"You'll have to face it sooner or later, or you won't be able to actually fight it." 

Draco's face became plain as he continued to stare. There was something uneasy about his posture and the slouched shoulders, signifying his relaxed state but also his carelessness. He was indefinitely worried and petrified; that was clear. A stranger would have been able to tell. For Draco had heard horrors, and had been forced to picture them within his mind, forcing back any faces of pain whenever they infiltrated his ears.