overwritten | ? drarry ?

T H R E E

apologies

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"My mother is what?"

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"When? How? Why- why didn't you tell me?", Draco stuttered, his face as pale as the snow on the coldest winter day. He slowly let Teddy down, who awkwardly ran into the arms of his grandmother. They all stood there in silence, because no one had been in such an uncomfortable scene for a long time.

Andromeda was the first to open her mouth after minutes, answering the emotional wreck in front of her, "She was killed yesterday. No one knows who or why. I am v-"

"I don't-... I'm going to bed." He slowly turned around and made his way towards his room. Meanwhile Harry could've sworn the taller hadn't blinked once since Ron had conveyed the undelightful message.

Draco hadn't even entered his room yet, when the tears started streaming down his cheeks. His vision got blurry and the only thing he realised was himself slamming the door shut and falling on his bed. After this, his whole world seemed to spin around and everything went black.
H

e felt like dying. His whole world was turned upside down.

His mother was dead.

Narcissa Malfoy, the woman whom he loved more than anything, the person he would always go back to, who helt her arms open for him no matter what. She was his anchor, his constant, and he had loved her desperately.

"My little Dragon", he remembered her words. Her voice was still so prominent, he could hear her laugh, as he thought about the first time she had said that to him. "I am so proud of you. You sprained your wrist, but who cares. Right? You flew on a broom! And you looked amazing! My little dragon. Only nine years old, but already so big."

One memory after the other were making their way into Draco's mind, letting him cry inexorably. He didn't mind his tears, even though his father had told him so often that Malfoys didn't cry. But today he didn't mind, he just let go.

"Ignore him", she had told him, "he's being a dumbhead. Don't tell him I said that, okay, Draco? It doesn't matter if you aren't the best kid in your classes, to me you are always the number one."

He had been twelve at that time, when Lucius had punished him because he wasn't at the top of his classes. Hermione Granger was, which was even more of a disgrace- she was a mudblood. Draco had never understood what was so wrong about being muggleborn, he had a friend who was one too. He just didn't like Hermione, because to him she had been an annoying prat, who had also been destroying his pride and ego.

While he remembered those certain things, he started sobbing through his tears, trying to catch his breath again. He rolled into the fetus position and suddenly felt small again. His father was locked up in Azkaban, while his mother only lost her ability to do magic. It was Voldemort's fault, he was the reason his parents- no, his father- turned to the evil side. It was his fault their family was ruined and that Draco felt like an orphan at the age of nineteen.

Sadness had overcome him one more time as he looked back on one of the most prominent memories of himself, his parents and the Dark Lord: