H I M ; Draco Malfoy

C A N V A S

V i n n i e

I woke up with my head pounding, like a nail was dug on it and was continuously pounded with a hammer. I'm in the Slytherin common room. I didn't know why. All I could remember was I was looking for the loo and none came after that.

I lift myself, with my elbow rest on the soft cushion of the couch, it was the same semi-circle couch I sat when I first attended a Slytherin party.

Million thoughts came racing on my head: why was I here? Did Draco brought me here? Why would he bring me here? I'm sure if he saw me laying in the cold he'd rather watch me die slowly. And why was I wearing a dress?

"You're awake!" A voice called, made me yelp. I turned and saw Pansy coming out of one of the three doors that I do not know where leads to. She had a box on her hand "I had Blaise run for breakfast, come spend it with us"

I hesitated. I bit my inner lower lip, opening my mouth to protest but Pansy speaking up didn't let me.

"Draco's not here, don't worry." She said, placing the box down on one of the low tables by the couch.

I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded with a brief hum.

My head still ached from whatever happened last night. I knew I got drunk but I didn't knew why in the bloody hell I got here. Maybe Pansy brought me? How? She's smaller than me. Basically a twig compared to how my body shaped. Not in a bad way, of course. She's hot.

If she did brought me here I hope she told Luna. I'll get grounded. I do not know how on earth did I started getting reprimanded by those younger than me—Luna and Ginny— but for some reason I did. I still obliged. They're the only ones I'm left with.

"Does Luna know?" I ask Pansy, she was sitting beside me. Her legs crossed and her arms flung on the backrest of the couch.

"Yeah, I ask Enzo to say so. He slept there for some reason. I ask him to buy pasties on the way back but he never came back" she replied, chuckling mid-sentence.

"Ohh" I replied, lifting my leg up into an Indian sit. It was awkward, silent, uncomfortable. I attempt to stand up to save myself but Pansy started speaking.

"Why did you two broke up, anyway," she ask, closing her eyes while her back rest comfortably on the couch. "You and Draco, I mean."

I stayed silent for a bit. I mean, what was I to say? Your friend tried to kill me and continued to threatened me to do so. "Have you ask him?"

Pansy sat, mimicking how I sat, her head lifted up. Her short jet-black hair flows behind her and her fringe messed up, then going back in place when she looked at me. "No, he wouldn't talk to us," I heard a small shake in her voice. I'm sure she heard it to. She cleared her throat then spoke again. "Even since you two broke up, I mean. All we know—me and Blaise, I mean, I'm not sure what Lorenzo knows. He kept drifting the topic. Draco never spoke to us in long deep conversations again. He said he was busy about something important."

I felt doses of anxiety rushing through my veins like it was some slide you have fun with in pool. I pushed my foot to back away from her, digging my arms deep into my armpits in a cross. "Look, I really don't want to talk about him of all people."

Pansy opened her mouth, then closed it again. Nodding, she said. "Okay, my apologies." She placed her hand on her knee, thrusting herself up from the couch. "I'll take you back to your common room once you had breakfast."

I didn't know how, but there was an awkward wind blowing my face. I curled my knees to my chest, then rested my cheek on my folded knees. I still didn't know how I got here but it didn't matter. A lot didn't matter to me at that moment. I want to get out of this place. I have a lot to search: Gringotts, The Malfoy Manor, anywhere nova might hold present of. Who am I, Hercule Poirot?

"I have breakfast" a voice announced before the sound of the door locking happened. The voice was Blaise's. I was sure of it. His voice was rarely heard, I've observed. He barely talk, and participate in classes, not that we have a lot of classes spent together, that is. His was, if it was a painting, would be painted with dark, hard, charcoal. I closed my eyes and imagined.

An easel, a green peculiar one. Three charcoals sticks all engraved with 2B. I picked it up. Holding it like a wand, and treating it like a weapon. My hands with one of the charcoal sticks glued to it, slashed across the once clean and blank canvas, leaving a greasy strip of pitch dark charcoal to it, the dust from the force slithering down the canvas like snow from an avalanche. Then again. The force almost threw the easel down to it's side, but I caught it with my free hand. Gripping it hard that it if I did so any longer it would snap— the voice I was hearing warp, it was alienating. But my hand continued gashing, holding the charcoal stick like a dagger. A face started to form, at first it had looked like Pansy but when the voice vanish from it's vagueness, the way my hand uncontrollably moved changed. The voice was cold, hoarse, it whispers so closely into my ears that I can almost start to smell it.  Mint. The voice wasn't Blaise's anymore. Another dose of smell came rushing like leaves getting carried by the current of the wind. Cardamom. The charcoal stick I was holding was almost out, my hand flicked it away the hold grip of another one. Fresh parchment. My mind was too absent to pay attention to the gashes of red liquid hardly blending with the powdery texture of the charcoal. Green Apple. The voice continued as a whisper, it didn't formed words. Just mindless whispers. My foot backed away unknowingly. Then I snapped out. The drawing was of a girl. Her features were barely recognizable because of the hard strokes of the charcoal and red liquid of what seems to be blood. Her hair was glued to her forehead and neck by sweat. She have bangs, but blown by the wind directly away from her face. Her eyes was covered by what seems to be a piece of cloth, and she had scars and bruises on her cheek and collarbone. She was naked, fully stripped. But the drawing didn't show any sensitivity as she covered herself with her hands. She was familiar. Maybe because she was me.

A faceless figure appeared behind the canvas made me draw back to reality.

—
HELLOOOOOOO IM BACKKKKKKK

THIS IS COMING TO AN END CJDJCBSJHD

I'm really glad people are commenting, I've tried several times dropping this because of lack of confidence and motivation but people commenting on ALMOST every paragraph in EVERY single chapter keeps me from dropping it (yes, I'm looking at you, gyoro 👀)

ANYWAY! THANK YOU FOR STAYING THIS FAR INTO THE STORY!! EVERY VOTE, COMMENTS, READS, AND FOLLOWS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED!!! ILY ALLLL