Chapter Text
Harpy hare where have you-
Draco watched the snow fall softly onto the ground, covering it like a blanket in the cold. He touched the cold glass, wishfully thinking that he could go through it if he pressed enough, to jump and play with the snow- no. His hand pulls back as if burnt by the glass, his fingertips red from the cold.
Draco never understood Christmas, it never made sense to him when teachers told him only good kids got presents. It’s wouldn’t make sense, as he got presents every year. Of course he never got to keep them, he was too old for toys and games his relatives and friends kept giving to him. One time his mother had smiled while Draco held a bear Grandmother had given him, eyes bright and she thanked and joked with the adults. That night she had thrown it into the fire, and Draco had-
”Stop crying. You know better than to accept a toy like… like that! You know how embarrassed I was!”
his mother grabbed his arm, dragging him to the fire while she sneered
”If you want it do much, go get it.”
pain. He doesn’t remember much after that, only that he woke up in the hospital and had gotten question by funny people in suits. Asking him about how he had gotten the burnt and his parents behaviour towards him.
“I got too close to the fire and tripped”
offcourse he knew better than to fall for their tricks
He stood up as he heard the door open, his room cold and musky. He hated it, it reminded him of the basement. Cold and dark and there was no one to save him or get him from this nightmare no one to save-
He looked down to his arms, feeling the blood drip from it. It stained his white button up. He smelled the iron, the comfort, the familiarity.
Buried all your children
”Smile when they come to greet you, nod and say yes, laugh when they make a joke. Never disagree, adults are always right.”
Draco sighed, repeating the rules he learnt at a very young age. All he needs to do is this, and just survive the party. Then a few more days and break is over, back on the train and he has survived no not survived. He loves the manor. He loves his parents. He loves Christmas. Few more days and he’ll be back in Hogwarts. That’s it. Yeah.
He walks down the stairs, and approaches some distant relatives
yeah, he can do this
Fun fact: Pansy does not like parties.
okay, that’s a lie. She doesn’t like.. whatever the Malfoy family does. It’s not a party, she sure of that. She huffs and her mother talks in a disgustingly sweet tone to some dude , scratching her skin until her mother scolds her and then it turns to concerned and she uses magic to heal her scratch marks.
her dress is so itchy, and bad. Gold with orange? Who ever designed this deserves to be fired, also sued for the amount of discomfort they caused Pansy.
The ballroom is big and spacious, dark oak floors reflecting the light from the chandelier that looks like a single touch will break to. The walls are glamorous and covered in old paintings of old people. The sound of laughter and glass film the air, it’s suffocating and so so fake. People smile and joke, but their eyes tell a whole other story. Looking people up and down, rolling them, looking disgusted.people whisper as certain people walk by, pointing and laughing. Nothing in the ball is authentic. Not even the one person she’s looking for in the crowd
Tell me so I say~
Draco walks around the ballroom, smiling and greeting on the rare occasion someone addresses him. His silk button up feels suffocating, his fingers itching to rip it off. The smell of alcohol and smoke fills the room, and it suffocated and comforts him. It’s smells of home(?), of mother.
He hasn’t seen neither of his parents, and it could be good or bad. The party has reached the point where the alcohol is catching up. People are stumbling and small fights are breaking out, people are having to be asked to go home and affairs are being revealed. In the crowd, fumbling and swaying with the ripples of events and turning together like a shadow shaming those who had the courage to step out, Draco stopped Pansy. In her elegant dinner dress, perfectly fitted to show off her ‘assets’ as ones mother would say, she was stiffly talking to a man who looked old enough to rival the likes of Proffesor Dumbledore; his teeth bright, prosthetic teeth grinning widely like a wolf waiting to pounce. Draco stood still…
he should do something.
it doesn’t feel right.
he wants to run.
he could do something.
Draco turned, one step after another staying up right like a Malfoy should. Further away from the crowd, from Pansy and the man; the man who stared at this friend like she was a meat to be eaten. Like she was an object, an item to be won. He could do this, one step at a time. Walking further and further away from Pansy, who looked so scared and panicked and… and…
“Get back here boy!”
CRASH
BANG
Tell me so I say~