Regrets
"We're over," The blond simply stated, indifference obvious in his voice.
"What? Why?" Her voice barely a whisper, a pair of chocolate eyes already sparkling with unshed tears. She reached out a hand, but he pulled away as though he didn't he even want to touch her anymore. The Room of Requirement had always been a place of warmth and happy, tender memories for them but despite the roaring fire she felt frozen. Just like his heart.
Draco Malfoy raised himself to his full height, looking down at the girl through his nose, grey eyes focused on her, but cold. "I don't want you anymore, Lydia. You're nothing special and you care too much. You're weak and pathetic. Why would anyone want you? You claim to be in love with me, well I hate to break it to you sweetie, but love is not real and even if it was, you along with Granger are the last people I would ever choose to spend the rest of my life with" He spat patronisingly.
Scathingly he continued: "I didn't love you, I wanted to screw you and leave you. But obviously you are too frigid and useless, to even do something as primitive as that. You're so bloody self-righteous, you ungrateful Gryffindor bitch, and you think you're a pureblood, more like a blood traitor." She yelped as if he had hit her but Draco just rolled his eyes at the tears now flowing freely, no streaming down her cheeks, leaving dirty mascara trials in their wake, and she was trembling too. But her eyes were not weak, they were hard with anger the deep brown irises penetrated his soul, but there was pain behind them which was evident for Draco to see.
He hated himself for doing this to her, but it was for the best, it had to be. He couldn't watch her get hurt, and it be all his own fault. Well physically hurt. However, what he didn't realise was that physical pain ends eventually; emotional pain is lifelong and fifty times as painful as any wound. He held is left forearm, through his jacket and could still feel it burning. She was too important. Draco turned away from the special girl, and then spun on heel pulling her into his arms tightly, his eyes lidded focusing on remembering what she felt like, knotting his long fingers into her dark mane. A lone tear slid slowly along the length of his pale cheek. Then again he turned away swiftly and left the heavy doors slamming shut in his wake. Lydia stood confused as to what she had done wrong; a river flew down her olive cheeks wishing he would come back for her. Draco had to leave her; he knew this, for her sake he could never return to her.
The next few years became a blur of sadness, hatred, war and disappointment. Draco had to follow Lucius, Lydia had liked to pretend that Draco was different, but once again she was bitterly wrong about him. The war came to a joyous end with good vanquishing evil, people healed, the evil repented and cracks in Lydia's heart slowly began to repair, though the fundamental fault lines remained vulnerable and were ready to be reopened at anytime. All who fought for good such as Lydia received good jobs, salaries and reputations; some had even married and settled down. Lydia was the anomaly to the pureblood society she grew up in; she fought for good and was of pure heart. What happened to the Malfoys? Lucius was condemned to life in Azkaban for high treason, being a death eater and general lawlessness and would remain there lifelong. Narcissa and Draco both escaped prison; they made their plea to the judges saying that it was all Lucius who forced them and that they had no choice. It was surprising to all that Draco got off, with the mark on his arm and an icy soul in his body ,but the jury were manipulated by Draco's charming personality and completely taken advantage of by his injured, lost little boy face. Or at least that's how Lydia told the story of Draco, after the trial of the boy turned man who she now despised.
It was now July four years after the war and the word had spread in pureblood society that Narcissa Malfoy was now dying, the strain on her heart of losing her husband, her only son on trial and the pain over the past few years of losing the girl she regarded as her daughter had finally finished her. She was slowly passing and it was estimated by the Medi-Wizards that she now didn't have long to live. Lydia mustered all of the courage she had left and apparated to the building she had once considered her second home, after Hogwarts of course. When most would bring white lilies, Lydia carried a large bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers to try and raise Narcissa's spirits as well as her own. Lydia dressed smartly for this difficult occasion a white tea-dress with large yellow floral print and white straps and corresponding hemline skirt trim. To match she wore expensive white wedges and carried an equally valuable large tan tote bag on her shoulder. Pushing her oversized designer sunglasses onto her head, smoothing her dress and taking a deep breath she rang the doorbell. Lydia was surprised when the door quickly slammed open sharply and something crashed into her calves. Looking down startled she realised it was Loppy the house elf loudly crying.
"Oh Miss Lydia, I have missed you and Mrs Malfoy is ill and the young Mr. Malfoy is not the same anymore." Releasing his clutch on Lydia and pushing himself up, his large ears flopping, Loppy now looked annoyed, "Why haven't you visited?" waggling a finger at her kneecap. Lydia painted on a false scarlet lipstick smile, ignoring the difficult question and asking if she could come in. After she entered the familiar large marble formal entrance hall, she asked if Draco was in.
"Yes Miss, follow me," the elf squeaked proudly, grabbing her hand eagerly. Lydia was shown (well dragged) to the drawing room by Loppy, which she knew well after many: Christmases, summers, Parties, Birthdays and generally growing up. Lydia's red expertly manicured nails bit into the flower stems tightly; however her face was cool and blank. Blaise Zabini lounged lazily across a large heavily padded settee, with what appeared to be a large brandy in one of the antique crystal glasses on the end table and a cigar dangling from his mouth arrogantly. Draco, no Malfoy, sat in a large leather arm chair throwing back another glass of whisky.
Draco stood shocked, his was face hollow and grey, and his lean frame now looking thin obviously stress was taking its toll. However, he was still extraordinarily attractive.
"Lydia, why are you here?" he questioned warily looking back and forth from her to Zabini and his raised eye brows.
"Your Mother wrote to me Malfoy. Asking for my presence today, as she wanted to say goodbye" her words harsh and cold with no sense of warmth or familiarity, her walls were up. Loppy led her upstairs to the east wing landing, where she sat in a large arm chair waiting for the doctor to leave. Admiring the carpet in detail, rather than focus on the pull on her heart; the thick cream pile and the stain she recognised as a bottle of Butterbeer she spilt at Draco's fourteenth birthday gathering. Looking up from the neutral carpet she saw a discarded copy of today's Daily Prophet on the coffee table, she picked up the thick paper and then when she looked down to the front page the newspaper slid out of her fingers numbly. There face up, on the thick pile navy carpet, was an image of Draco with his arm around his new fiancé. Astoria Greengrass batted her huge green eyes at the cameras her long auburn hair falling in gentle waves. Lydia picked up the article, with extreme caution, as though it would bite her. She sat numbly staring at the image, when the Medi-Wizard left and Loppy beckoned Lydia inside. She felt as though her knees would give out, when she read on to that the hype was about the Malfoy-Greengrass wedding tomorrow!
"Jesus Christ "said Zabini under his breath, looking up from his own copy of the Prophet, Draco already looked like death and as though he wanted to stab someone, pacing the expensive imported Persian carpet into the ground. " Drake, you might want to read this," Zabini quietly urged. From the gravity of his voice Draco was jolted from his inner-monologue; he stalked towards Blaise, and roughly snatched the article from his hand.
"Blaise, I have already read this. Astoria made sure to show me her hair in this photo this morning." Draco spat.
"Look at the rest" was the only response Blaise gave. Draco opened out the folded back newspaper and fell into the identical settee opposite Blaise. The main article was a comparison of the Malfoy- Greengrass Wedding and another tomorrow the Sharpe-Nott wedding! There on her finger was a large oval cut diamond on a gold band a painted smile on Lydia's face, much like the one she had earlier. What disturbed Draco most was that he knew Lydia would hate that ring; she had always wanted a princess cut white diamond on white gold band, not yellow. It's not like she doesn't have a voice she certainly knows what she wants and isn't afraid to say it.
"I don't understand" Draco whispered dumbly, fixated on the article and the ring on her finger and one of his old friends on her arm.
"You didn't expect her to wait around forever for you mate? Did you? You moved on, you proposed to Astoria, why shouldn't she?" Blaise gave the difficult sort of guidance only a best friend could give.
A string of profanities came from Draco next; he stood up and stormed out of the drawing room, slamming the heavy oak doors for effect. Punishing Blaise's eardrums, for what his had to hear. However, Draco was suffering the greatest punishments of all for his mistakes and was suffering for it every day, but he didn't deserve this, nothing like this. He walked upstairs aimlessly following his feet, to where they led him, and she was his other magnet and polar opposite. So entirely different, but completely attracting together and pulling away from that force had taken a lot of strong will, brute force and pain. He watched her from a few steps behind, palm firmly clutching the ornate gold doorknob the oval cut diamond sparkling in the midmorning sunlight. But she was motionless; her eyes were closed mascara trains staining her cheeks, a flashback of her similar to this as a teenager haunted Draco. She was muttering to herself a motivational speech to hold her courage and to summon her strength to face her fears. The exact same speech she had given herself that morning before leaving home, to Malfoy Manor.
"Are you going to go in there, or just stand talking to yourself like a raving lunatic" Draco mocked scathingly. Lydia span round so fast her brown tresses fell over her face and her neck cracked. Clutching her neck, she glared at Malfoy eyes fiery and body rigid and stiff.
"Piss off" She growled quietly with aggression rumbling in her throat, surprising Draco with her venom, throwing open the heavy polished cream double doors. She strode in looking confident but trembling all over but the sight that met her was worse than anything that she had imagined. The once exquisite room with it cream walls and pale coral carpet was dimly lit, the air was hot and sticky, and the floor to ceiling windows and balcony doors were all firmly closed and the thick, heavy drapes were pulled closed over the top blocking out almost all of the light. The white wood dressing table from Paris was in a thick layer of dust, almost untouched dinner plates piled up on every surface and the worst sight was the bed. The cream Chinese silk sheets were crumpled, with the matching exotic silk duvet and its cover cast onto the floor. But the worst sight was the skeletal figure inhabiting the enormous super king sized bed, completely overpowered in a dirty periwinkle blue nightdress. How long had she been ill? Her hair was thin and grimy, hanging limply around the woman's shrivelled face and there was not an ounce of makeup or her notorious Red Rouge Allure Chanel lipstick that she always donned. The shadow of a woman that used to be the beautiful Narcissa Malfoy smiled weakly. Summoning Loppy, Lydia had all of the dirty plates cleared away; she pulled back the curtains with a simple charm and threw open the double doors of the balcony allowing the wind to sway the light drapes underneath, blowing outwards like a bride's train. Automatically the room felt lighter and less suffocating, as though there was more air inside it. Sitting on the chair next to the bed, Lydia took Narcissa's hand.
"Better?" She asked hopefully. Narcissa nodded her head smiling softly. "I've missed you; I've missed our lunches and this house" the girl sighed sincerely.
"You were always welcome here, no matter what happened with you and Draco. You are so much more than an ex-girlfriend of my son's. You're my daughter, or the closest thing I had, or will ever have." Narcissa croaked earnestly her voice hoarse. Lydia stood and put the sunflowers in an empty vase, it was only a distraction though to hide her guilty tears.
"I didn't know what to do, I was so hurt by Draco" she took a gulp and controlled her breathing "It was so hard to visit, I tried to, but every time I stood outside the gates it was so painful and I just was consumed by not wanting to see him. Wait, what about Astoria, surely you love her too?"
Narcissa slowly shook her head "Astoria will not ever be a third of the woman you are now. She's selfish, rude and very materialistic. You are all I will ever want for Draco, you would make him happy. Astoria has asked several times for my engagement ring which is an heirloom, but it isn't hers to have."
"No, no Draco and I are completely wrong for each other. We are different, too different. We don't love each other anymore and as for Astoria she always seemed a bitch, sorry."
Narcissa smiled and nodded wisely, she was essentially the saviour of the Wizarding world, but never got acknowledged, without her lie to the Dark Lord the world they lived in would be a much darker place.
"Now darling, we have important matters to discuss." Narcissa stated determinedly and professionally, clasping her chipped nails on her lap. "You're wedding being one. Don't make mistakes this consequential and vital to your future. Don't sell yourself to an unhappy marriage, I know about that. However, I sold myself for unrequited love and blood purity. You too are doing the same thing but you are marrying the one of less pure blood and whom you know you do not, and will not ever love. How long have you been engaged now?" This was the question Narcissa had a feeling she knew the answer to, but had to be sure.
"Oh, I've been engaged my whole life." Lydia whispered darkly "To your son, or so my parents thought, and when they realised that wasn't going to happen they found an alternative option, after all no pureblood reaches twenty one unmarried."
Narcissa wasn't going to tell this new light to Draco, he needed to work that out for himself, but he might need a little push. That was Zabini's job; even Blaise didn't know that he had only been invited to the Manor to force Draco to face his mistakes.
The Grand Staircase as Malfoy Manor was beautiful to behold with its white Italian marble and mahogany handrails, it was separated in two halves which spilt and met becoming a landing at the top. From here the Manor was more homely with carpets and paintings which were slightly less expensive and were more personal taste than a demonstration of wealth. Blaise padded up the stairs anxiously, worrying what Malfoy would be destroying whether it would be his life or personal possessions. Blaise was pleasantly surprised to find Draco sat on the landing outside his mother's room talking to himself. Sitting in the other chair on the other side of the coffee table Blaise considered how to tackle Malfoy and his ever changing, dramatic and sometimes quite frightening emotions. That was one thing about Draco; he always spoke with either raw passion or pure idleness.
"Your mother really loves her and I think you still do too. Why don't you talk to Lydia at least apologise for what you did to her, explain the truth to her Draco, it will improve the situation."
"What good will it do anyway Blaise? She is getting married in the morning, and so am I. It's too late." Draco spoke gravely and wallowing in self pity.
"Your mother will never accept Astoria, she hates her. Deep down I think you do too, as she is everything Lydia is not. You scorned Lydia though, wounded her; love is not mean to be easy Draco. If you fight for her, I think she would surprise you, and she definitely won't marry Nott in the morning if she knows everything. That girl in there is definitely not over you, no matter what you say; now get off your arse and fight." Straightforwardly Blaise tried to make his best friend see reason, see what he was letting go of, losing because he was scared.
At that moment Lydia stumbled out of the master bedroom, her eyes were red raw from crying and her face was swollen, but Draco still found her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Draco stood looking at her, completely understanding her pain, Narcissa was as much Lydia's mother as his. Surprising everyone in the room, including herself, Lydia flung herself into Draco's arms and wept. She cried for the stealthily approaching end of Narcissa's life, she sobbed for the loss of her boyfriend and best friend, she howled like a lone wolf for the end of everything she had come to love.
"Draco? Draco?" Drifted a high feminine voice, the voice was not melodic or soft but demanding and stern, not the way a fiancé should. The voice of the other woman sliced the amicable silence like a knife, Lydia flung herself away from Draco, eyes wide, backing away, she looked terrified and disgusted by what she had done, instantly regretting the first moment she had spent with Draco for seven years.
"Notify me with updates on your mother's health, I best be going, I have to go and... Bye" Lydia rushed and swiftly left passing an irritated Astoria on the landing. Once out of the gates she apparated home, she sat at the kitchen wracking her brain as to how she had ended up in that situation. Lydia sat swirling another glass of red wine in a large glass, watching the blood- like liquid swill and ripple with her every movement. It reminded her of the war. Of the bloodshed, the loses and the evil that committed such horrifying crimes. Though what Lydia could never understand was why she fought against the boy she loved, her parents and her class for a cause she wasn't sure she truly understood. There would never be only goodness in the world; evil would always exist, just to different degrees. Tragedy is meant to bring people together and make them stronger, united. But not for her and Draco they fought against each other on opposite sides of a high wall. The wall was not constructed by leaders or groups, Draco and Lydia created that wall and brick by brick it became taller and wider and stronger, giving it less and less chance of collapsing. What frightened Lydia though was that the protective wall that she created was quickly crumbling, the mortar was flaking from between the stonework and it was weaker and more unstable than ever before and was more likely to fall to pieces. The foundations for the wall were strong though, purpose built and you couldn't forget what was supposed to be there. That's what scared her she knew why it was there but couldn't prevent her protection from falling apart around her. Now he could cross her frontier she would be vulnerable without it but she could still see the basis of why that wall had been put there and the scar in the fractured land was still evident.
However, Draco couldn't run away like Lydia, he watched a large brick fall from his wall it landed noticeably at his feet. Astoria was screaming and demanding what he was doing and why he didn't even comment on her new shoes, why he never noticed anything.
Astoria's shrieks had reached an ear-splitting frequency that Draco was pretty sure that only dogs should be able to hear. "Draco Malfoy, you wouldn't even notice if I arrived home naked and performed a naked belly dance for you and Blaise. You never understand or notice me!" To highlight her argument she stamped her foot twice into the carpet, like a petulant four year old throwing a tantrum.
"I think I would notice if you did that 'Stor, and we are not married yet, this is still my home not yours" announced coldly whilst grinning perversely. Draco was then forced to throw his hands over his ears as the screeching got louder and even more painful.
"Oh my god Draco! You're missing the point, you're marrying me, and you just can't understand me. You won't understand! You didn't even notice my hair Draco, or the new shoes. You bloody bought them, for Merlin's sake" Waiving the key to the Malfoy Gringotts vault, which she took from the drawer in his vile mother's dressing table. Astoria couldn't understand what she had done wrong, she was perfect: pure blooded, a Slytherin, the most beautiful young witch of her age, head and shoulders above the do-gooder Sharpe girl. Then it hit Astoria why Draco was the way he was, why he had no time for her, no interest in her or her wedding it was the girl, it had to be. Astoria was not stupid in fact she was quite astute, she knew Lydia and Draco both loved each other; that they never let the ideology of happily ever after go either. But Astoria was a manipulative, spiteful and selfish person; she wanted what Draco could give her: wealth, a good name, access to the pure blood hierarchy ultimately power. She had little feelings for Draco; in fact Astoria had few emotions at all and didn't really care for or love anybody other than the annoying older sister who she merely tolerated and the person she saw when she looked in the mirror. Lydia had been kept a token within pure blood society, she was the one who fought for Potter, she was meant to prove that there was still hope for pure bloods that they weren't all Death Eaters- but Lydia never really acted like a pure blood to begin with. She attended the parties and was beautiful and careful .But she mingled and befriended mudbloods and blood traitors alike, she was a very unusually pureblood. However, Lydia was a very extraordinary girl. Privately Astoria knew that Draco liked the idea of redemption and atoning for his wrong doings during the war, it all seemed to fit that loving a member of the DA and the Order would help him to achieve that. He was a very different man to the schoolboy he once was.
Therefore, some harsh words were in order for Astoria to get what she wanted. "You don't honestly think you and Lydia could work do you Draco?" Astoria said this phrase seemingly innocently, but she spat the other girls name as though it was an insult. Astoria gave a short shriek of cold laughter "She doesn't love you, she hates you. Did you hear me Draco? Lydia. HATES. YOU! You hurt her so badly the first time; she'll never take you back. You lost her, and you have a better woman in front of you but you're a blind fool who doesn't give a shit because you're too busy pining like a kicked puppy over that stupid bitch, she is as much of a blood traitor as the Weasleys" Astoria was no longer screeching like a spoilt little girl, she was shouting the tirade at Draco but her voice dropped menacingly low, almost a whisper.
"And you my darling, are well on your way too." The look in Draco's eyes frightened Astoria, it was an emotion she didn't recognise or understand. Draco remembered the pain in her eyes when he said those words to Lydia and he hated himself for it, he grabbed Astoria by throat and pushed her up against the wall smashing a vase and kicking a chair aside in the process.
"Don't ever call Lydia a blood traitor. Ever." He threatened seething into Astoria's terrified face. Draco released her, and she fled down the staircase attempting fruitlessly to flounce away, slamming the Manor door on her way out. But it was more like bolting with terror.
"Nicely handled there Drake. Nice to see some of the old cruel, ruthless and overall callous Malfoy is still within your soppy soul." Blaise sarcastically smiled.
Draco turned on heel ignoring Blaise and entered his mother's bedroom. Draco was gone for many hours and as Blaise Zabini watched from a window worrying constantly about his best friend as afternoon became dusk which became sunset and eventually night. At ten thirty Draco staggered from the room clutching a sheet of parchment in one hand and a sunflower in the other, he stumbled towards Blaise and eventually sunk to the ground leaning heavily against the door. "She's gone." Draco whispered quietly his voice cracked and thick and a lone tear slid down his pale sunken cheek. "My mother Blaise, the doctor and I watched her pass in her sleep- he said it was painless. We spoke for hours, before she became weak and slept. Lydia, tidied her room opened the curtains." Blaise no longer saw Draco, he saw a broken shell of a man. Slowly Blaise moved from the window and sat beside Draco on the landing, and did the only thing he knew how to do. He took Draco into his arms and let him cry, Draco's facade was lost and he wept into Blaize's shoulder, and feeling for his best friend Blaise began to quietly shed a few single tears too. Draco showed the parchment to Blaise, a few moments later unsure of what to do next, clutching the sunflower for dear life.
"Fuck Astoria, go to her." Blaise urged passionately.