Ivory and Steel | Drarry Hunger Games

Chapter 2: Bloodstained Ivory [Draco POV]

The clash of steel on steel was grating but familiar. It held a certain comfort.

Draco's pale blonde hair was slick with sweat as he avoided yet another well aimed stab at his gut.

The blade grazed his arm as he sidestepped it, opening up skin. The crimson looked so interesting on the pale ivory backdrop.

"Just give up already", he called out to his partner, "you can't beat me!"

"I can try", she replied and went for another stab at him.

Her movements were erratic and vicious, driven by pure desire to hurt and take her enemy down.

Draco was starting to get a little tired.

They'd been at this for almost half an hour and he decided that it was time to end it.

He swooped the end of his spear behind her legs just as she was swinging her daggers back, pulling it roughly back toward himself and making her fall.

Then he aimed the spear end at her exposed throat.

Granted, it was a dirty trick but if it got the job done, it got the job done.

Her knees hit the ground hard and she threw her daggers away in frustration.

"That was SO unfair, Dray!"

He held his hand out to her and she begrudgingly took it.

"The Games aren't fair Pans, you know that. So I'd recommend cramming in some extra training sessions before tomorrow instead of complaining if you don't want to embarrass our district."

She exhaled a puff of air and crossed her tanned arms in a sulky manner: "Fine I guess you're right. We'll meet up later though?"

"Yes of course", replied Draco, making sure to sound enthusiastic about it even though all he wanted was to go rest at home, "Now, I think Millicent wanted some practice with you. God knows she needs it."

"Ugh fine, as long as that pig doesn't touch me", sighed Pansy and wiped some stray dark curls out of her face, "Good luck with the assessment."

"I don't need luck."

"Cocky", said Pansy in a tone that made it that she did not at all have an issue with his attitude.

"Just the truth. Bye, Pansy", Draco waved slightly as he left the career training center.

He left the spear where it was.

One of the workers would put it back in its proper place.

He felt gross in his sweaty workout clothes and decided to stop by Crabbe or Goyle's house before actually heading home.

The walk wasn't too long and the scenery was nice.

The sunlight reflected beautifully off of the houses and their pale ivory and golden hues and the sidewalks were meticulously cleaned and imbedded with tiny gemstones that made them glitter.

Many people greeted him on his way and he made sure to reply respectfully as long as they met his standards.

What business did the bums from the outer areas of district 1 have to talk to him out of all people? The nerve.

Soon enough he arrived at Crabbe and Goyle's houses and he craned his neck up to see which house they were currently staying in.

Them being best friends and also neighbors since birth always came with the annoyance that they were never just by themselves in their respective households.

It seemed that they were in the Goyle residence today and so Draco rang the elegantly decorated doorbell and waited.

Half a minute passed by and then the boys finally emerged.

"Hey Draco, just come back from training then?", asked Crabbe in that usual braindead tone the two taller boys shared.

"No, Crabbe, I just took a dip in the town square fountain that's why I'm so wet", said Draco sarcastically and more than a little annoyed. He didn't have the patience for this today.

"Uh you do smell kinda sweaty though", came the genius argument from Goyle.

"Nevermind. I just have to use your shower real quick and get changed here before the assessment."

"Oh yeah that was today."

"Right. So?"

They looked at him dumbfounded.

"... So??"

"So let me through you dunce!"

"Draco is that you?", a feminine voice rang out from within the house.

"Yes Mrs Goyle!"

"Oh how lovely, come on now boys, let your friend in. I made lunch."

The two idiots finally moved out of the way and Draco took his shoes off once he was inside. Never let it be said that he didn't have manners.

Mrs Goyle came into view from down the hall and smiled when she caught sight of him, her full rosy cheeks dumpling.

"Thank you for the offer but I can't stay for lunch. I have to get home soon", said Draco with genuine regret. Mrs Goyle's cooking was fantastic. She was one of the few housewives who didn't hire a servant to do it for her and you could tell. Not that Mr Dobby's food was necessarily bad but there was no heart in it.

"What a shame but there's always another day. I will help dear Narcissa prepare a feast for you when you get back", she laughed, her eyes crinkling warmly. Everything about her was warm and kind.

"I'm counting on it", grinned Draco and and then subsequently cringed when he ran his hand through very sweat soaked hair, "I was wondering if I could use your shower? You know how the ones at the center are.."

"Oh yes of course. I hear they've gotten even worse since my time there."

"Oh they did. Believe me", replied the blonde in a suffering tone. For all the beauty in their district you couldn't change the fact that most teenage boys, and therefor places specifically catered to them, were gross and had no sense of personal hygiene.

After chattering away for a few more minutes Draco was finally in one of the Goyle's bathrooms, slumping against the cool white door when he closed it behind him.

He'd kill for a nap right then, but alas no rest for a champion.

He made quick work of stripping his clothes, beige pants and white shirt falling too the floor and then he stepped into the shower.

The almost boiling hot water made his pale skin resemble a lobster to an almost worrying degree but it also did wonders for his sore muscles.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sting of it all over his body.

The scar on his left arm ached and pulsed painfully as it always did whenever it was exposed to extreme temperatures.

Draco opened his eyes again, blinking waterdrops away from his lashes as his other hand traced the healed wound.

It was longish but smooth and not completely straight.

The start just below the crook of his arm was thin and it got slightly thicker the longer it went on until a noticeably larger bit right beneath his wrist, just barely missing the veins above.

The scar almost resembled a snake, he mused to himself.

His favorite animal.

It's what he used to tell himself when he was younger so he could resist the urge to just rip the skin off, making the shape disappear forever.

His arm rotated and he saw the point on his outer arm were the blade had gone clean through the limb.

Draco sighed and rested his forehead against the warm tile wall.

It wouldn't do him any good to dwell on dark memories now.

He had to be laser focused on the future if he wanted to make it home alive.