True Slytherin Intentions

Chapter 6| Regrets and Heros {Part 2}

Malfoy watched from across the table as the red-haired Weaslette stood gathering her things. From the moment he spotted Granger, the only thing he could do to stop himself from racing over to her and demanding some form of punishment for his earlier insults was to press all his weight down on the ground. At this point, he was close to doing anything just to know he would have her there to finish what they’d- she’d started.

He knew he’d hurt her. Her eyes the minute they met him told him so. So why wasn’t she punching him in the face? 

She just left him standing there; she didn’t attack, that alone sent Malfoy into a spiralling confused mess. 

He’d expected at least a little fight back. It was obvious that his little games weren’t going to work on her all the time, but he was also terrified that they wouldn’t work again. He hadn’t expected her to be the best medicine, for her to be the perfect weapon to punish himself with, but here he was with the scent of sandalwood and fresh parchment with a dash of vanilla invading his senses like a cruel hex he couldn’t quite shake. 

Once her friend had left, it wasn’t long before Granger herself followed. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed almost instantly, the desire to trace behind her almost too pathetic, but he needed it. The shadows were invading too close, the nightmares flaring to life like they’d burn him whole under the sheets. He’d messed up the chance he had to find some form of quiet, some form of solace the night before, if there was any to be seen, but he couldn’t risk it again. 

Malfoy didn’t fear many things. Only two, in fact. 

One of them was himself. 

The moment she had disappeared, he stood quickly, Blaise catching his arm before he could lift himself completely. 

Looking down into his dark brown eyes, Malfoy noticed the already etched creases of his forehead as he looked questioningly up at him. “What’s going on, Draco?” 

“Nothing.” Malfoy snapped, shaking his arm free from Blaise. He stood straightening his blazer for a brief moment. “I’ll see you in potions class.”

Blaise nodded, confused; he hadn’t had such a cold reaction from him like that since the night they met at Hogwarts seconds before the war had begun. Malfoy had been cautious who he allowed into his mind, into his circle, and Blaise had proven beyond a doubt to be the best source of trust he had. His family purity status pleased his father and, in turn, him, he was humble, which at times confused Malfoy when he was younger, but since the last few years, he had begun to understand how pointless it all really was. But Blaise was loyal. He was always loyal. No one had shown Malfoy that kind of loyalty before. 

Blaise had been his only contact outside of his four-walled bedroom after his father had been taken. He was the only one who could grasp the slightest understanding of how he felt. 

Yet it was a new friendship, one that had always been there, but Malfoy had been too blinded to see. It was far too easy for Malfoy to forget; amongst the snakes, he had one that was his friend. 

Deep down, he supposed it was because he didn’t deserve a friend like that. 

But Blaise also knew Lucius. He knew the Malfoy values, and for once in his life, Malfoy was terrified of how his friend would react to learn of his newly found obsession with a certain lioness. 

He just wasn’t ready to share this secret yet. 

He wasn’t ready to risk losing his loyalty or his reputation. 

It took Malfoy a few seconds to catch a glimpse of that frizzy mane bouncing behind a pillar and into the library. Without another thought, his legs raced towards the double doors before coming to a pause just as his hands rested against the old wood that had somehow managed to survive so much. 

This was a choice. This right here would lead them down a road that he wasn’t quite sure he was ready for, but he wasn’t sure he could resist.

It would be far easier to turn around and do nothing, face his punishment and let the demons drag him to hell. His eyes fell to his wrist, and for a moment, he pictured it glowing, winching as if he could still feel the pain of receiving the mark. It would never leave him. Even with the glamour spells, he would always know what was genuinely etched into his skin. 

For so long, this had been a part of what Loyalty was. The loyalty he had always given but was never returned. This was what consumed his father’s life and destroyed both of their lives. This was the loyalty that had dragged the Malfoy name through the mud. 

For a moment, as he felt his chest ignite with a burning heat that spread through his blood, he was proud at how he had spat in the face of everything it stood for. He was glad at how he had made a mockery of the death eaters code.

But it was the morals his father had burned into his being that was far harder to shake, that almost quelled the anger into a sudden tsunami of sadness big enough to cripple a city. Malfoy fell against the door, his forehead pressing against the cold oak. He should be stronger than his urges, more potent than his fears, but even now, he could feel it. He could feel that invisible tether tugging at him to barge through those doors. It was almost insane how sudden the switch had flipped in his mind, how suddenly his desire for Granger had roared itself to life. 

It was almost as though she were the oxygen mask, and he was the patient heaving for a single mouthful of air. But even Malfoy knew not to withhold medicine from a dying patient, especially when his sanity depended on it. 

Without wasting another moment's thought, Malfoy pressed his shoulder harder against the library entrance and slipped through in the quiet, darkened room. It was as if his eyes were on crack searching for her; anything they landed on that didn’t resemble the frizzy head brunette was automatically ignored as he breezed through the tables towards the towering cases. 

Just as he spotted her, he also spotted Goyle, and just like that, his eyes went wide as the air stripped from his body. He threw himself behind the large case behind the two, letting his eyes close for a moment. He could hear his heart slamming against his chest at the fact he had been seconds away from getting caught; what if he hadn’t seen Goyle? What if he had approached Granger while he was watching?

Those thoughts alone sent a stabbing panic through him.

But he didn’t.

That was enough for Malfoy.

Shifting further down into the darkness, Malfoy pressed his ear against the stack of books, trying his hardest to hear what was being said even though he knew it probably consisted of a long list of insults. Whilst Goyle had shat himself in the presence of any death-eater, he held to those prejudices as he did his dessert. 

“-heard Greyback had a one to one audience-“

The minute the words hit Malfoy’s ears, his whole body tensed, his teeth locking down tightly against one another. He could still remember his Aunts haunting laugh as she encouraged that monster to do what he pleased with her.

But regardless, Malfoy had done nothing. He had stood there staring down at his shoes, praying that Potter would somehow escape and end him, end Greyback and him for being so weak. It was the first time during the whole battle and the second time in his life that he prayed for death.

It was also the first time in his life that he looked at Ronald Weasley with admiration and jealousy at his foolish bravery to save the girl he loved. 

Hearing Grangers cries as his aunt tortured her had left him in a permanent state of hatred at his own reflection and the consequences of his actions or lack thereof still left him broken in ways Malfoy could only hope to one day replace. 

“Should we test that?”

Malfoys’ hand curled into a fist while the other reached for his wand faster than he could step around the bookcase holding it pointed towards his throat. 

“Since when was rape a tactic to scare muggle-born scum?” Malfoy forced out, his voice tight as he tried to control the rage in his voice. Goyle jumped to face him, his eyes as wide as gallons before a nervous laugh escaped his lips.

“Malfoy, you scared me!”

“Good.” he spat out. His eyes fell on the shrinking girl behind Goyle. Her face was morphed in shock, but just behind it, Malfoy could see the hints of fear as her eyes blurred at the memory they both knew she shared. He’d seen that look of terror echoed on her face before, and seeing even a hint of it now was sending him towards the edge, the wrong curse tipping around in his mind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just havin’ a bit of fun-“

“You think that’s fun?” Malfoy asked unbelievingly as the boy in front of him thought for a second. 

“Watching the mudblood squirm and scream? Sure.” Goyle replied as if proud of the words that fluttered from his rotten throat. Malfoy bit down on the inside of his cheek; it was all he could do to keep from sending him flying halfway across the library. 

Something about those words sown together and breathed by Goyle of all people sent a boiling rage burning through every nerve as Malfoy couldn’t help the twitch in his eyebrow. 

He lowered his wand towards Goyles groin and, before he could realise what was happening, spat out the hex that sent a look of pure agony through his face before his body slammed into the case next to them, sending all three stacks into one another. 

“Oh Merlin,” Granger breathed from behind him, slowly taking a few steps towards Malfoy. 

“That was fun,” Malfoy muttered before the sound of a horrified cry filled the library. 

“We need to go before Madam Pince finds us. Now.” Granger grabbed his arm, yanking him towards the back exit of the library, and he let her, his mind still wheeling as he looked back at the unconscious Goyle laying on a heap of books hoping maybe this time . . . he could start to make it right.