To Destroy » Dramione

|15.| Go

It was late in the evening when Draco returned to the manor. He could barely stand the thought of returning to such a place and having Granger be there. He didn't want to see her, for his mind had reminded him of so many memories as he walked the streets, he couldn't face her. He couldn't even think of facing her. She pained him, she reminded him, she shamed him. He hated her, he hated her for what she did to him, and he found himself clenching his fists, causing his knuckles to go white.

As he walks past the spare bedroom, he holds his breath, his steps quick and lively. He couldn't stay another night in there, sleeping on the hard chair and listening to Granger breathe. He needed to sleep in his own room, to be distant and far away from the brown eyed girl that was angering him as the minutes went by. She hadn't even done anything, except remind him of so many things he despised, that he wonders for a moment as he lies in bed, where everything went wrong. For, there once was a time were Draco Malfoy had a heart — despite his cover up with bullying — only now, that time was far gone, and he couldn't remember what it was like to care. To love. He loved his mother, but he couldn't remember how to show her. Maybe, I am broken, he thinks to himself, before letting out a scoff. I don't need fixing. I am not broken, I just grew up. I grew up and stopped being childish. I did the thing most people are afraid to do. He had to tell himself he changed, because he had grown up, and he began to believe it. After all, if your heart turns cold, it ends up deceiving you. And that's exactly what Draco's heart did to him, it deceived him.

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Draco woke up early in the morning. He hadn't slept the greatest, but he also hadn't slept the worst, either. He felt exhausted, though, and was tempted to go back to sleep. However, he couldn't hide in his room all day, despite how much he may want to, and he forced himself out of bed. After all, it was another day. Perhaps, he wouldn't be reminded of so much today, and he could get a few more things done.

He had to walk past the spare bedroom to get to the dining room, and he couldn't help but hesitate as he passed by. He had left Granger drunk yesterday, and he wondered if she was experiencing a hangover, especially with how much she had drank in just a quarter of an hour.

Slowly, he turns the knob, before pushing the door open. He expected to see Granger lying on the bed, covered up in the blanket and still sleeping, but she wasn't there.

Swiftly walking down the stairs and down the hall, he enters the dining room, to find Granger sitting there drinking some tea, and reading a book. She hadn't heard him come in, resulting in her eyes still fixed on the pages, the words jumping out at her and creating pictures and scenarios in her mind. Her head ached a bit, but the tea was helping tremendously, not to mention the time spent away from Draco also helped.

"Barely seven o'clock, and you're already reading," Draco scoffs, before walking over to the tray to fix himself a cup of tea.

"Better to read early in the morning, than plan out murder early in the morning," she whispers, not looking over at him. She was still angry with him, still furious, and she knew it was going to be an extremely long time, before she could look at him without hurting. It would also be an extremely long time, before she could ever admit there wasn't negative emotions towards him. She didn't hate him, despite what she had said, but her feelings were close to despising him.

"I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you, Princess," he sneers, before taking his tea and grabbing and apple, before sitting at the chair farthest away from her. "I kill, you read. Mind you're own business," he snaps, before taking a large bite of the fruit.

"Mind my own business?" She half laughs, before clapping the book shut and slamming it down on the table. "You want to kill me, to get to my best friend and kill him, but it's not my business?" Her voice was echoing off of the walls, and she didn't care if Malfoy's parents heard her. She was so tired of caring, anyway. "You're bloody selfish! All you care about is the burden on your arm, the way that Harry made you feel, the fact you lost the war. You think it's all about you, but it's not! It's not about you, Malfoy, none of this is about you! You may have wars of your own in your mind, but bloody hell, don't you think other people do, too? You don't think other people have excruciating memories and reminders from the war? It was a war, for Merlin's sake! Stop being so bloody selfish, you're not the only one in this world that was hurt from what happened!" Her chest was rising up and down, her breath coming out in large pants, as she stood there, not even realizing she had stood up. She couldn't even look at him for very long, before looking down at the table. It was hard for her to be here, and he was foolish if he didn't think she had wars and memories and reminders. After all, he wasn't the one that was tortured in this very manor, and that's something he has to remember.