Dark Enough | Drarry Fanfiction [being edited]

A scarlet story

AN - I have edited this chapter to make it better and to spell check. The plot won't change! It will mean that the chapter is longer, though! I think it doubled in size! Leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter!

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Draco ambled sadly to his dorm. His six-year was already awful and he felt like nobody knew him at all. Nobody knew he was gay, nobody knew his home life was terrible, nobody knew he was insecure, nobody knew he self-harmed and everyone thought he was a death eater. No, he wasn't. He wasn't because he loved Harry Potter, even if he couldn't have him because Harry most likely wasn't even gay and hated Draco because of his façade.

While walking to his dorm, Draco saw Harry. Harry had looked at Draco slightly sadly as he walked past. To avoid Harry's gaze, Draco looked down and quickened his pace towards his dorm, his heart thumping in his chest. Coming from the Slytherin common room was Pansy Parkinson. He huffed as she walked over to him with a look of disgust on her face. Draco listened to what she had to say but strongly wished he hadn't. Draco was painfully aware of Harry's presence as Pansy spoke to him.

He was probably coming back from a Saturday detention. 

"Why are you wearing those muggle clothes?" Pansy asked Draco with a look of disgust on her face. Draco was annoyed in his head. Trying to ignore Harry's presence, Draco gave Parkinson a response.

"Why not?" Draco questioned. Pansy scowled and looked at Draco as if it was obvious. Draco knew what she was going to say and regretted asking so close to Harry. Especially after Pansy said he was a death eater. 

"Because, one, you're not a muggle, and two, you're a death eater," Pansy replied. Draco stared at her, his eyes an icy blue. He was so angry that she would run her mouth. He was not a death eater. Yes, his mother and father were, but he was not and would never be if he could help it. In fact, he hated death eaters and Voldemort. Why would anyone want to kill muggles when they themselves weren't even evil?

"I'm not a death eater. I refused to become one Parkinson! And no, I'm not a muggle, but they're not evil We are for killing them! Don't you see that? I'm not weak anymore, not weak for them anyway." Draco snorted, walking towards the dorm. He had his own little cupboard that he had used a spell on. Nobody knew about it as they thought that he slept in his proper bed but he really slept in the cupboard in the corner that he had magicked a mattress inside. He didn't need anything else, he just needed a space of his own.  He couldn't deal with this. He saw Harry look after him but ignored Harry. It wasn't like he'd have anything nice to say to me anyway, Draco thought as he rushed past him. This was just too much for Draco to deal with. Especially with the stress of school and his family on top of it. 

Draco forcefully pulled himself out of bed the next morning. He reached over to the trunk that barely fit in the cupboard and pulled out some clothes. He was careful to put his hoodie on to cover his scars. Draco had been self harming a lot this year. After toeing on his trainers, he began to comb his hair half-heartedly. Without a second thought, Draco skipped breakfast and went straight to the lake, at a part that not many people sat at. Silently, Draco stared into the empty waters. Draco remembered his father locking him in the dungeon when he had found his muggle books and Draco refused to dispose of it. His eyes filled with tears but he refused to let them fall. It has been a long time since Draco had been truly happy. Draco pulled his hood up and he frowned again. He did that a lot. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled. 

An owl came flying above the lake. It was Draco's father's owl. Draco froze with dread at the sight of the bird. His father hadn't written to him yet this year and he didn't want any writing to begin. The owl landed gracefully in front of Draco and he untied the letter from the owl's outstretched leg. 

He opened the letter with a shaky hand. 

Dear Draco Malfoy,

I am very disappointed in you! If you won't become a death eater, sign this. We never want to see you again. You are a dishonour to our family and you a disgrace! If you even bother to see us again you will be Crucio'd into next week! And don't you even try to get us sent to Azkaban for this! nobody will believe you, you filthy blood traitor.

Lucius Malfoy.

Draco felt as if his whole world had just shattered as easily as if it were glass. He stared at the parchment in slight shock. He should have expected this. Even his family didn't love him. His mother didn't love him. Who would? He conjured a quill and ink and signed his name on the dreaded, dotted line. Draco didn't even bother to read past the second line. But he knew it made no difference. Draco tied the letter back onto the owl's leg and began to cry even more. He couldn't even comprehend what was happening. Draco had nobody. He was completely and utterly alone. He would never get to see his mother again, hear her sing, feel her embrace.

"Malfoy?" Came a calm, worried voice.  Draco spun around quickly, suddenly realising his hood wasn't up anymore.