𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

16-A Lovers Muse

CW: Cutting (Not self-harm)

The dinner had lasted well over an hour, although it felt like so much more. The food was stale and undercooked, the chicken felt like it had been raw If you looked any closer, you would see the pale shade of pink and the poorly plucked feathers still there, the mashed potato felt rotten and hard to swallow, the wine was bitter and tasted more like blood than any frizzy grape. The food was poison and the words were venom - nonetheless, they had to eat, they had to listen.

"Leave him alone. I wish to speak to Draco privately" Narcissa had the look of pure death on her face when receiving those words. She stared blankly at her almost empty plate with shaking fingers. Her sister, to most surprise, gave her a simple touch of reassurance, although the touch felt more like a sharp slap on the wrist; One a teacher would give to a student for being too late

Draco however, felt numb to everything. He did mind, he did- But throughout the taunting hours, he'd learned to block out certain senses. None of them said a word as they left, his mother wanted to kiss him on the forehead, sending a message through it to not fret, as she always said. But she did not, she left with wobbly legs, almost tripping on her way out from the nerves that spiked her body. Pansy gave him a pitiful look as her expression looked sick from the underdone food, And Bellatrix left with a mischievous sharp grin that would cut him or anyone carelessly

Once they were alone, he looked up at Draco and tilted the left commissure of his lip to meet the hollow line between his cheek. What song would set the scene? The scene of a young boy quivering with consternation. His eyes were inscrutable that cast locked thoughts only he could think of whenever he wanted- although that freedom came at a high cost

"Don't be shy, Draco. You know, shyness is a criminally vulgar thing..." Despite the fact his face had been one of a well-made portrait, it was almost more intimidating.

He stood up from his chair, his fingers gathering the dust on the table, studying it in between his fingerprints. "You remind me much of myself when I was your age" He said.

Freckled specks of piloerection covered his body. His arms and limbs looked as if a pin needle had poked them for every time he had the epiphany of smashing the half-empty wine glass on his skull, hoping for an omit of neglect

"I was like you- Oh I was. Popular, witty, a bit arrogant, others might say" He chuckled at himself, at the remembrance of those young days. Draco, who was failing miserably at maintaining himself acknowledged all the fuzzy words that came out of him. Draco had kept his eyes on the table, rapidly playing with his fingers that were linked together

The Lord seemed to be in a train of thought. Shaking his head, he looked over in Dracos' direction. "Have you enjoyed your dinner, Draco?" He asked. He, of course, knew the honest answer. He had seen the pure look of disgust that was masked with respect by them all. Draco nodded. His nauseous stomach had made him too frail to use his throat to answer

"And the wine?" Draco had not been the proper age to consume any form of alcohol. He had before in house parties after a good quidditch match. The 2 cups of alcohol had been enough to leave him with a needy brain that was constantly bickering and scolding him for being so childish

"'Wine was good as well" He answered shyly, his eye still eyeing the mahogany table

"And how do you know that? You barely drank any of it" He proclaimed, pointing his finger toward the almost spillingly full drinking glass that had the fog prints of parted lips on the sharp brim

"Drink" Voldemort said-no- commanded- raising his glass as well

Draco hesitated at gripping the glass. The sip of wine he had earlier burned his nasal and made him feel dizzy despite the teaspoon amount he took. Draco took a full gulp this time. The taste of intoxicated grapes clung to his tongue, knifing through the bristles and bumps. His eyes watered at such a strong pungent. Spirytus was what it had tasted like. Not the oaky bitter-sweet taste that anyone else would expect.