If I Lose Myself

Chapter Eight: Draco

Draco was confident of his skill now, blocking out anything that could possibly distract him. However, in his arrogant tranquility, came his mind drifting into a color just dotted in the silky void. He thought he might distract himself by staring at the attractive color, to block out the banging that went on and on for what seemed like hours now. And then, all at once, the tiny color that he'd been focusing on grew and he was immediately sucked into a world full of light.

The scene shifted before him. Now, he was high on top of the world, riding his broom with the grace he did when he wasn't using it for Quidditch. But instead of holding onto his broom's handle, he was holding onto someone seated in front of him – her black as night hair whipping shamelessly against his face. Draco pushed the strands of hair away from him menacingly before he realized that the girl sitting before him was Astoria. Almost at the mention of her name in his head, she turned around and smiled at him.

"Hey, look at that! You're actually smiling!" Astoria jabbed at him with a slight giggle, her green eyes boring into his grey ones pleasantly. "You should really smile more! It's certainly more attractive than your pompous smirk!"

"You think I'm attractive?" Draco heard himself tease her as he drew closer, the cold winter air rushing past him a bit faster now. "Little Greengrass, I'd never thought I'd see the day."

"I said your smile, Malfoy, not you in general." Astoria rolled her eyes at him as she threw her head back in laughter, her sweet-smelling head now splayed against his chest. "I wouldn't be attracted to your arrogance if it saved me from dragon pox!"

Draco found himself laughing at this and inevitably inhaling the witch's sweet scent of vanilla and roses; and he is briefly reminded of their little Amortentia incident only a few days ago. It was the same incident that granted him this "date" with Astoria, even if she claims that it isn't one. It definitely was, no matter how other people put it. Her eyes sparkled with merit as she looked up at him, her head still resting against his chest. It took all of his self-control not to lean down and feel her lips against his, the way they probably should have had Slughorn not interrupted them days ago.

Then, all at once, an excruciatingly painful shock hit his head and travelled through his entire body. The scene of Astoria laughing and staring at him with her green eyes dissolved into instant darkness, and he opened his eyes to find that his aunt was now inches before him. Her hands were fists against his black coat and the look on her eyes was pure, unadulterated menace.

"What are you doing, you foolish child?!" Bellatrix's shrill voice resounded throughout the room. "You fool! Coward! How dare you?! You were doing perfectly fine!"

"Bella, please, that's enough!" Narcissa's voice rang behind his aunt pleadingly. "He's just a boy!"

"A boy that's about to be dead if he doesn't rid his mind of this ridiculous Greengrass girl!" Bellatrix shrieked violently before pushing him away. "A repulsive school-boy crush on a girl! Pathetic! This is not the right time to be thinking about kissing innocent little girls, Draco!"

Draco tumbled back into his seat, but before he could actually understand what was going on in his surroundings, he heard the curt, loud cry of an unforgivable curse.

"Crucio!"

Draco let out a blood-curling scream as the most unbearable pain rounded into him. He lurched forward and fell onto the unforgiving floor.

His bones felt like wrought iron as their heaviness held his entire body down. Both of his legs writhed dangerously as they twisted in odd angles, giving him terrible discomfort. His arms, on the other hand, were forced to stretch upwards as if someone was pulling them far into the back of the room like taffy. It was pure, unsurpassable horror and his body twisted and jumped from left to right, every part of him felt like he was being injected with thousands upon thousands of hot waxed knives. He could feel his throat tighten up as harsh tears welled from his eyes, blinding him from everything. Though the pain was just as deafening, he could distinctly hear his own cries and screams just as clearly as he could hear his aunt and mother have a row.