draco's pov–
"Success lies in our future." That's what my father said in his letter. As I walk away from Y/N, and walk away from the chaos happening in the courtyard, the fear of growing up hits me too hard.
Father wants me to be a Death Eater, I can see it clear as day. My mind contradicts itself, trying to figure out whether or not I should have told Y/N that Voldemort was after Potter's prophecy. As much as I hate the boy who lived, she would be in danger.
I don't know what their stupid little club does, but my best bet is that they would try to be heroes and save the day, and in the process she might end up... I don't even want to think about it. I start to sweat, loosening my tie.
Those things she said. She said i was pretty much using her... I mean, I was, wasn't I? I was angry after receiving my father's letter, and she was the first thing I came in contact with. It turned into a way to get my mind off of my predetermined future. She isn't worth my time, that's what I told myself every day, but once the sun set I sought out her touch as a comfort. I let myself be vulnerable for half an hour every night as we laughed and snuck around to find someplace.
I've never felt this way about anyone or anything before. She invades my mind for no reason at all. Her face just swarms my thoughts, leaving me feeling utterly stupid.
I shouldn't have let myself even become friendly with her. At least, that's what Father would say, and maybe I believe it myself. Maybe I have a dark soul like my father, and maybe she does too. Maybe that's why I'm drawn to her so much. Nobody can be completely good, right.
It feels like she is.
I feel tears creeping into my eyes, but push them back. I won't let my feelings break out, instead hiding them behind my emotional barrier, one I learned to put up when I was eight.
I open the door to the boy's lavatories, rinsing my face off in the sink. Everything feels like it's falling apart. Maybe I'm an idiot telling Y/N about what's happening at the Ministry, maybe I've just led her to her death. I fiddle with my rings, somehow feeling every feeling in the world at once. So many maybes.
What have I gotten myself into.