21 ||Draco Malfoy short story

~Chapter 1~

Today is the worst day ever.

First, my alarm clock didn't go off.
Like I don't even understand how that's possible, it's operated by magic!
So that inevitably lead to me being late for work, which is of course the Ministry of Magic and its soooo disrespectful to be late there.

So I almost got fired.

Then, someone thought it would be hilarious to put some sort of stink bomb thing in my office and explode randomly scaring the literal shit out of me.

It was probably George Weasley.
He lives to play with me.

Literally lives to.

Normally I would find it amusing but today was just not the day.
And normally I wouldn't care because he's my friend.

So I almost got fired, again.

But what makes it the worst of all, is that it's his birthday.

Draco Malfoy's.

It's his twenty first, I remember mine four months earlier. George, Audrey, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron all took me out and we got loaded on wizard's brew, which is pretty much magic folk's alcohol.

But he's all I could think about that night.
How much I wanted him to be there too.

How much I want him to be here now.

I wish he had talked to me.
He never thought to write to me after the battle. All I wanted was to hear from him.

But he's probably moved on.
It's fine.

I'm fine.

I wanted so much to be invited or at least asked by someone to join them for his party, but no.
So now I'm just sitting here alone, on my sofa. Scrolling through my Instagram feed.

So many pictures of him posted from everyone else.

I wish I was there with him.

I looked at the time.
11:00 pm.

"Maybe I could call..?" I spoke softly to myself and shook my head quickly, realizing how idiotic of an idea that was.

It's his birthday, let him be.

He must be so happy right now, surrounded by all of the people he loves.

My eyes suddenly got blurred.
I quickly closed them tight.

Don't let any tears escape.
It's not worth it.

I slowly opened them again and a drop raced down my cheek.
I roughly wiped it away with my sleeve, afraid anyone would see.

No one is around.

God, we had that flame, but we were so black and white.

I didn't actually believe that we could stay together for the rest of our lives, right?

It all seemed like fiction.

If I ever see that boy again, sorry that man again, I- I don't even know what I would do.
I would be too nervous to say anything.
I'd just think of the love we had when we were young.

Only, when we were young.

There was a sound coming from the left of me.
I turned my head to look at where it was coming from, my phone. It was a text from Audrey, my best friend since year 1.

I could hear it now.

I had been so lost in my thoughts I blocked out the faint noises of my sobs.

I shook my head and read the text:

~This man is still going :0
~imu c u soon <3

I checked the time again.

12:00 am.

I've been sitting here for hours.

Those messages were also sent along with a picture of,

him.

She was out too?

"Probably spying" I thought, giving myself a good chuckle.

If he's still going he's probably going through something.

Thinking about something.

I wonder, what.

Maybe something just like me.

With everything that's been going on in my head, and recently more than ever, I was told by Audrey to write it down.

Write it down.

It doesn't sound like such a bad idea, but whenever I tried in the past I started to freak out and not go through with it.

I guess I'll just have to fight through the tears and pain.
That's what's going to get this finished, and I'll feel better.

I got up from my sofa and almost collapsed from not moving at all for hours and searched around my house to find any kind of paper and ink.
I found an old journal inside my desk and decided to grab that and the bottle of ink that sat atop my desk, and walked back to the living room.
I sat criss cross and placed the journal in my lap, flipping to the next free page. I dipped my quill into the ink and hovered it above the paper.
Ink dropped on the paper from me hovering over it for so long.

Take a deep breath it's gonna be ok.

And then the ink met the paper.