"All I wished for was to not be a Slytherin. Pure blood supremacy was woven into the material of those jade coloured ties and I would rather strangle myself with one than wear it."
After returning from her time spent on the run, Lyra, unruly, sarcas...
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Theo paced back and forth across the room, checking his pocket watch constantly as the blonde still say unconscious on the bed.
"Why is he- I mean...why won't... I can't...why is he not waking up." My words were broken and frustrated and hoarse as they fell out my trembling mouth. All I wanted to do was to make it better, but I didn't have the power to.
"Why is he not waking up." I raised my voice at the two boys as we stood around Malfoy's bed. Why. Why was he not waking up? Why was he like this? I wanted to burst. I wanted to cry.
The service was due to start in 5 minutes. 5 minutes, and Draco was lying on his bed lifeless, his head in my hands as I stroked his forehead gently, trying to stay calm.
I thought to myself how innocent he looked, how pure yet troubled he was, burdened by the heavy weights of his family's responsibilities and it had proved all too much for the young boy. But now, just now, he looked so fair, so soft and mellow in the fragile evening light.
It was then, as he lay before of me that I decided enough was enough. After we killed Dumbledore, we would leave. Run, and slip away, lost in the chaos of the looming war. I couldn't let this go any further, not when Draco was like this. We needed to leave, to get out of this uprising, before it killed us.
"I cant do this anymore..." I stated, Blaise and Theo looked at me with sorry eyes because they knew how deep we were, how trapped the two of us had become. And there was no way out, and we knew that.
"You know, Malfoy once said that in our kind of lifestyle you either end up married or dead." Blaise said with a slight chuckle, earning himself a sharp elbow to the ribs and a harsh glare from the brunette next to him.
I smiled. A sad sort of smile. As though I was saying that I wanted to smile but just didn't know how to. He was only tying to add some kind of entity to the situation.
I stood up. How could I just sit here and wait. Wait. Wait for what. I grew agitated, frustrated that he still had not come to. Why, I thought to myself, why had no not yet woken up.
My eyes scanned the room before as I scanned my head for a solution. I was fed up for just sitting around.
Rather aggressively, I rummaged through his bedside cabinets, pulling out books and parchment and old quidditch magazines. Then, I ran to his chest of drawers but I was only met with folded shirts and underwear. I flung open the cupboard in search of books or potions or articles or anything, anything that could possibly help me, help him, in this situation. I really began to regret not taking that first aid course the school ran over summer.
The cupboard, surprisingly, was filled with an assortment of small glass bottles, tubes and vials, some full with bright coloured liquid, some dusty and obsolete. I rummaged through them, some labels were illegible and some were just too confusing to read in Draco's writing.
