Filthy ; DM + LB ; 2024 Rewritten

L O N G N I G H T

"Draco, it's pent-up frustration collected from over the years. I don't expect you to understand."

"Try me," Draco replied.

I looked at him with confusion. "What?"

"Try me," he repeated.

I scoffed until I realized he was serious.

"For starters, you, Pansy, Goyle, and Crabbe, have done nothing but call us mudbloods, and you've called your own friends blood traitors. It's so demeaning, and it's not right. No one has ever had the courage to defend themselves. But, I'm done letting it slide. Grow up."

"They're just fucking names," Draco defended, to which I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Have you ever heard that saying? The one where it's like, 'words only have power if you give them power'?"

"What 11-year-old wants to hear that? Really, are you that daft? It's isolating. It's cruel. It makes a person think they're not enough for the wizarding world."

"Sorry you feel that way," Draco said without meaning.

"You're insufferable."

"I know," he replied.

"You're hurtful."

"Heard that before."

"Do you not think about others?"

"No."

Before I could raise my hand to slap him again, his hand intercepted my wrist. Draco had a firm grip as he stood up from the sofa. With a tight hold, he began to drag me out of the common room and into an empty hallway.

"Let me go!" I yelped, trying to fight back. Fear settled in my stomach when I realized I'm not as strong as Draco. "Where are you taking me?"

His grip remained tight as he walked swiftly. Eventually, he led us to an empty corridor, where he pressed me against the wall, trapping me between his arms.

"You have no idea what it's like to be the least favored, Lucille," he harshly spoke, his voice near my ear. "Everyone loves you, Lucy. Everyone worships you. Everyone favors you. You had everyone. Pansy and I? Goyle? Crabbe? We had each other. All we did was call you names, I get that. But what else did we know?"

I pushed him away in disgust. "That's your fault. No one told you to be prejudiced. No one had a knife up to your neck or put your life on the line. Refrain from blaming me for your loneliness, truly. It's embarrassing."

"You have no idea what it was like growing up like me," he began. "You don't have a fucking clue."

"You don't talk to anyone about it! I know nothing about you. No one knows anything about you! Lorenzo knows, but it's not like he's going around telling us about your sob story," I yelled at him. "Maybe if you had someone to talk to—."

"They all spoke to you, Lucille!" Draco's voice grew louder. "Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy are fucking idiots! They wouldn't understand."

"Are you seriously trying to get me to pity you?"

"No, Lucille," he said with frustration, his hand running over his face. "I just need you to understand where all this resentment comes from."

"I'm not interested," I said harshly.

Draco stood still, his hands in his pockets, his weary eyes fixed on me. Truth be told, I was lying. I wanted to know more. I just—. I couldn't let him know I cared in the slightest. Not now.

He sighed and shook his head, his gaze downcast. Draco finally looked up at me, his mouth slightly open, but no words came out. Eventually, he spoke.

"You want me to apologize?" Draco asked, annoyed.