Chapter 4 Draco

I'd been home for a few hours, but I still felt lost. I hated Malfoy Manor after everything that had happened there the previous year, but I hated it even more after the arena.

In my childhood the home had been a playground and a happy place. After the manor had become headquarters to Voldemort, it became dark. While the décor remained the same as always, the halls had shadows of past, present, and future. And then came the day the Snatchers had brought the trio to our home.

That day had haunted my nightmares since it happened. My childhood home had already been changing, but to see someone I personally knew, be tortured and threatened, had been horrifying. I felt even worse now.

But after the arena, the whole house screamed danger and for me to hide in every nook and cranny I found. I couldn't be out like this. I had to hide! Everywhere I looked there were suits of armor and coats of arms. Those simple decorations held so much blood, danger, and horror in my mind. With each sword I had a memory of someone being stabbed. With every flick of my eyes to peer for danger, I heard a scream or a cry. My home felt like a prison.

I was currently hiding in my room, too confused and angry to risk running into my father. I felt so angry at everything. They'd made us re-watch the horrors we'd endured in the arena, and by doing so, they'd made us relive them. And then returning to the manor and finding so many items that reminded me of the Tournament, all I could think about was screaming as I ran through the house and destroyed everything I found that reminded me of my pain. And running into my father would only add fuel to the fire. He hated me. And I hated him.

A soft knock sounded at my door followed by a soft, "Draco, are you awake?"

I took a deep breath, debating if I really wanted any visitors before answering, "Yes."

My mother slowly opened the door and entered my room cautiously. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Her eyes signaled that she knew the truth, I was far from fine, but she stayed silent.

She chose to sit down on my bed beside me before speaking. "Your father will come around Draco."

"No, mother, he won't. I've officially betrayed everything he has believed his entire life, everything he's taught me, everything he killed to protect! He will never 'come around'."

She nodded silently. I knew she believed differently, that he would indeed come around to the idea of me being in love with Hermione, a muggleborn, but I never would. He was a vile, cruel man, and I regretted so much ever thinking I wanted to be like my father.

We sat in silence for a bit before she asked me, "Would you like to talk about Hermione?"

I thought for a moment. Thinking about her, especially being alive, brought a soft ease to my reeling mind, but it also brought a deep pain. I'd killed her after all. I finally settled on simply shaking my head. I wanted to continue in my silence.

She nodded again before standing to leave my room, "I shall have your dinner brought up for you"

I sighed before quietly replying, "No thank you. I'm not hungry." She nodded again and left my room at last. I loved my mother, and I knew she wanted to help me, but I needed to be alone.

As much as I wanted to be alone, I also wished I had some company. Not my mother, as she would never understand how I was feeling, but a friend. I wanted the company of someone who knew the hell I'd been through. I wanted Hermione.

Suddenly there were tears streaming down my cheeks for the millionth time that day. I so badly wanted to hold her in my arms again, to know she was actually alive and actually alright. I wanted someone to talk to about how I felt, someone who wouldn't look at me with pity. Someone to hold me back and just let me listen to them breathing. Someone I loved.

I'd contemplated writing her a letter, or even trying to go to her, but I knew the idea was a bad one. She lived in muggle London. Was she even allowed to receive owls there? Was that a common thing? And, obviously, I had no idea where she lived, or of finding the info.

I suddenly remembered her fireplace message to her parents, a soft smile coming to my lips when I thought about her happiness at getting to speak to them, but the address was far from memory, a lot had happened since then after all.

I soon fell asleep, but the night was far from peaceful as my dreams were haunted by tears, screams, and bloodshed.