CURSED [D.M]

-(40) he has to look away

DRACO cannot make sense of a single thing happening around him. Sheer fatigue dominates his body but still he stands in front of Zilliah, his wand raised at her supposed mother. "But you dare try to take her away from me, I must warn you. It will only be over my dead body."

The woman's eyes burn into his, threatening to drown him over in the rage behind it. "Then you will die."

"Not when I'm still breathing." It's Zilliah, stepping forward and grabbing hold of his wrist, his skin instantly cold at her touch.

Her mother's gaze flick down onto it. "You're really just dooming yourselves."

"I don't care", comes her reply, the rage in her voice mirroring the woman before them.

"You don't even know who he is."

"I know him better than any of you."

Daphne lifts her gaze back onto Zilliah, shaking her head. "You don't know what I am talking about. Zilliah, he is a death-"

"I know exactly what you're talking about."

"What?", comes the shocked responses of Snape and Daphne at the exact same time. Draco gulps, shocked himself too.

Zilliah doesn't let go of his wrist. "You think I didn't know?! You think I didn't sense the darkness around him? In him? Mother, I am made of it!"

"And still?!", Daphne's eyes widen with utter shock, her nostrils flaring with even more rage if that's even possible. "And still, you would-"

"Yes", Zilliah cuts in. "And still, I would."

"You..", Draco's voice is barely above a whisper, woven with shame and shock. "You knew?"

Zilliah's eyes flick onto him, instantly softening as she holds his gaze. "Yes..", she nods before returning her gaze back onto her mother. "I'm telling him. Everything." And with that, she pulls him to the door.

"No, you are not" her mother's shout is heard, her footsteps following them.

But Dumbledore speaks, halting her. "Daphne, don't."

"What do you mean don't?! Albus, she is-"

"I very well know", his response is heard, his voice poised and echoing throughout the room. "Zilliah, stop."

She halts in her track too, turning to face Dumbledore. "You don't get to have a say here", the words roll out of her tongue, venemous and in spite. "You may be on the  good side of the war but you're just as pathetic as Voldemort is."

And with that she leaves, dragging Draco along with her.

________________________

"What is all this?", Draco asks Zilliah as they sit next to each other on his bed, their tired breaths mixing together as one. His eyes are fixated on her as she stares at the ground, his left hand resting on top of her right.

She lets out a long sigh, shutting her eyes. He instantly longs to see the brown in them again.

"Zilliah", he calls out softly, bringing his hand upto her face, gently brushing her jawline with his thumb. "Look at me."

She shakes her head, biting her lips to stop a cry.

"I can't stand you not looking at me", he mumbles, bringing the other hand to cup her cheeks too, turning to face her completely. "Please, look at me."

She shakes her head again, keeping her eyes shut as if that could undo reality. If only it could.

"Please."

"I could've killed you." Her voice is weak and strained, like she is in agonizing pain just by speaking those words. Her eyes open, tears welling up in them as they fix upon him. "You could've been dead if lost control. I-"

"But you didn't lose control", he speaks to her, trying to console her despite being a wreck himself, still having no clue about all of what's happening. "You didn't. I'm still here. I'm with you. But you need to tell me what this all means."

She shuts her eyes again, as if she was ashamed.

"Please, Zilliah. What happened back there? Who really is Daphne?" His heart aches as the next words leave his mouth, to think that he always thought he knew who she was when in reality he was just being played. "Who are you?"

"I should've told you", her head drops, her voice cracking. "I should've told you everything."

He pulls her to his chest, not being able to watch her be so broken, so beaten to the very ground- guilt, shame and fatigue reigning dominance over every last inch of her body. "Yes you should've", he mumbles, trying to keep his voice calm and in control, trying to keep it from breaking as he holds her. "But you can tell me now too."

"I don't deserve you", she sobs into his chest.

It only makes him hold her tighter. He can no longer keep his tears in. "Don't say that."

"Draco, this is horrible. What I'm hiding is- I.. I don't think you'll even look at me the same way after I tell you."

"But you have to tell me, darling", he brushes his lips against her ear. "And there's nothing in this world that can make me look at you differently", he speaks, meaning every word of it, his faith in what he spoke being the only strong thing in the room.

She pulls back and meets his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The world seems to stand still around them, time and space meaning nothing, all matter ever so insignificant. "I'm not Zilliah Emerson. I'm an Auclair."

"Auclair?", Draco asks, his mind racing back to those history textbooks he had read, trying to piece it all together.

"Yes", her voice is even weaker. "But that's not the worst part."

The pieces of the puzzle in his mind fall into the right places. "No", it's almost a gasp as he pulls away from her without even meaning to.

He can see her pain further at it. "Yes, Draco."

"No." He does not accept this. "No no no, it can't be."

Those brown orbs he so adore fall deeper into the black pit of shame and hurt. "But it is."

He's not willing to accept this. He cannot accept this. The last strong thing in the room- his faith- shatters into a million pieces too. There's nothing left. He has to look away.

" I am Daphne Auclair's and Voldemort's daughter. I am Zilliah Auclair or rather Zilliah Riddle."