Potter's Twin Sister || Draco Malfoy

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My heart was pounding in my chest as I pushed my legs to their limits, each stride propelling me forward with a burst of energy and though my body screamed for me to slow down, to catch my breath after it didn't have that for a couple of seconds, I refused to give in.

I needed to get away. Get away from him. Not from Draco, but the evil person that took on his appearance and did that to me.

It was not him. It was not him. It was not him.

"...It's as if he's always at war with himself..."

Zabini was right on spot with that description of Malfoy.

When that single tear fell onto his hand, he had loosened his grip but had to take away his own left hand with the help of his other hand.

In the one-second-long moment between being free of his chokehold and running away, I watched him, standing there with an expression as if he scared himself and clutching his own left forearm, rigidly.

As tight as his hand had been holding my throat, blocking air from going through my windpipe.

It was very tense. The same level of terror I felt when his father's big, icy hand clamped around my throat but worse. So much worse.

I was fueled by adrenaline and fear. I didn't dare to look behind me. Felt relieved I didn't hear his footsteps pounding behind me.

It was not him.

It was as if a vile force had insidiously infiltrated his being, and consumed him with a darkness that seemed to emanate from within.

A sinister presence that took hold of him, twisting his thoughts and emotions into a tangled web of evil—the cunning nature of evil was such that it crept into every fibre of his being, corrupting his very essence and leaving him a mere shadow of his former self.

His former self was long gone but it lingered in him. I could see it in his eyes when he let go of my throat.

Then the stupid worry that I had left all my stuff there in the library with him began to permeate through me.

It was not him.

There was something going on with him, something so incredibly wrong and amiss that, in some fucked up way, I wasn't even angry with him. Perhaps, anger was yet to come but for now, my heart ached for him.

I needed to figure out the secret message from Draco's mother but where do I start?

I have since I am at Hogwarts devoured a tall pile of books, desperate to find the words Ladon or Little King but nothing came from it and for now, the Library, where I was most likely going to find my answers, was a place I was going to avoid for a while, I think.

It was a little over seven o'clock. The perfect time to run through the corridors because they're as good as empty. Most students are enjoying dinner at this moment.

I had arrived in the Entrance Hall by this point. I ran. I ran. I ran. I reached the door which is the entrance to the dungeons at the end of the hall.

When I wanted to slam the door shut with a loud thud and vent my rage, I refrained because I didn't want to attract attention.

I hurried down the steps, my left knee throbbing by the time I reached the bottom step. I sprinted into the shadowy passage after turning the bend.

There was a figure.

It was Snape.

Avoiding his eyes, I dodged him and continued down the corridor at a quick pace until–