He was cold in every way. Cold grey eyes that were so pale they were almost blue. Cold sharp defined features. Cold smooth voice always dripping with sarcasm. Cold black heart.
But keep in mind he was a Malfoy. And when your born a Malfoy, you are forever a Malfoy. And Malfoys aren't ones to change. No, they were the type of people that stayed how they were hundreds of years ago-Still with the same features, eyes, and hair; Still with the same social status; Still with the same mammalian brained ideas implanted in their mind.
And while I'm being completely honest-I will say, that he deserved everything he got. It's a harsh thing, I know, but it's true. I even told him once, but he just smirked that annoyed smirk, and told me to shut my mud-blood mouth.
I can hear every word he ever told me, ringing in my ears. I can feel his touch on my skin, sometime soft as a feather and other times leaving scars, and bruises.
I remember that day he was testified, in front of the entire Order, and our Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge; I remember that even though he was trapped in a large steel cage he stood with such nobility of a king, with his head held high, and his chest puffed out. I remember that he looked at me with such an intense stare that it chilled my blood.
Tears began to form at the corner of my eyes as I tried to hold his gaze, trying not to back down. No, I wasn't going to give in to him. I was not going to let him use me. No, I wasn't going to try to defend him anymore-I just couldn't. I was so tired.
He wasn't one to ask for mercy, let alone beg. So we all knew exactly how it would end for him. Fudge didn't even bat an eye when he plead guilty of all charges brought against him.
I had to leave the room when his very soul was taken by the Dementor's Kiss. I couldn't watch it…I couldn't just sit there and watch the man who I had spent every night with for the past three years, become lifeless right before my eyes. Bile arises in my throat just thinking about it.
Who would have known that after every battle, and he would go into hiding that he'd be right under everyone's noses. Who would have thought it was my tent he slept in every night. That it was my bed he laid in.
I wasn't supposed to get attached. I wasn't supposed to find comfort in the enemy. In the person that killed so many of my close friends. It wasn't supposed to have ended this way.
Maybe if I hadn't healed him that day, none of this would have happened-But no, I had to help him-Death Eater or not. Damn it, why'd I do that?!
I hate him, with every fiber of my being. I hate everything about him. And what's worse-I have to watch my son grow up to look more and more like him, every day.
Someday I'll show my son a picture of his father, and make sure he never becomes the man that Draco Malfoy was.
...And one day, I will be able to look at my little Darrien, and not see his father staring back.
