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Summary
-- His bare feet slid in the cool sand and he got as far as the crashing waves permitted. Despite his strict upbringing, he allowed himself to flop very unceremoniously into the rough sand, only an inch or two from where the salty seawater crept up and then pulled back.
He sat with his head in his hands, frustrated with the uncontrollable rage swelling within him. No where to go, everything he’s done in this war worth nothing, whether he agreed with it or not and nothing to think of other than his parents inevitable demise and annoyingly enough, Potter's vexingly green, green eyes. --
OR
Struggling to come to terms with an onslaught of revelations, Draco is doomed to do nothing but unravel.Series
- Part 3 of Man Made
