Draco's Hufflepuff | Diminishing

Two: Ungrateful

**

Tuesday, 5th August, 1997

I was getting desperate now.

It had gotten to the point where I was sending Draco multiple letters a day. I was writing to him about anything and everything. More or less any thought that popped into my head got sent to him.

Each time our owl returned back from Wiltshire; I was sending him off on another journey. All I wanted was one letter back – that was it. Even if that meant a scathing note of his contempt, infuriating him to the point of explosion, it would be something. Some were even quite risqué because I wanted his attention so badly.

My parent's probably thought I was taking something, because I had gone from being basically comatose and dying in bed to constantly up and down the stairs, pacing around my bedroom, and restless.

Here are some examples of some of the very short and borderline unhinged notes I had sent Draco over the past few days:

I had some Fudge Flies today; I know they're your favourite.

Do you miss playing Quidditch? I miss watching you and cheering you on, you look so good in those emerald robes.

I keep watching this speck of dust floating around in my bedroom and I feel like I'm going crazy. Perhaps I am.

Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like if I were hit with the Cruciatus Cruse – do you know anyone that would come and cast it on me? You can't lie because I know you do.

Mum done a tomato pasta for dinner tonight, but I didn't eat any of it. What did you have for dinner?

Quickly come and fuck me, Draco. Hard and fast. No one would need to know. I need your cock inside me.

What do you think you'll come back as when you die? I'd like to be a butterfly, but I think I'll probably come back as a Flobberworm.

I want to gouge my eyes out and poke my wand through my eye sockets and into my brain.

I miss you.

I knew deep down I should be embarrassed by the sheer amount of letters I was sending him, but I wasn't. I just wanted him in any way I could have him. I couldn't help but feel like maybe this was my punishment.

**

Friday, 8th August, 1997

For the first time in well over a month, I had stepped outside of my house and willingly socialised. Well... sort of willingly. It's taken everything out of me, and I was laid in bed, spent, and drained – both emotionally and physically.

Unbeknownst to me, behind my back, Hannah had been arranging with my mother for us to meet up. I knew that they only had my best intentions at heart, but it kind of pissed me off. It made me feel pathetic and like they were laughing about me.

I did manage to have a shower, however, and wear ordinary, normal people clothes. I still looked like a state, and I looked horrendous next to Hannah. I was in a pair of Muggle denims and a plain black t-shirt, with my air-dried hair in loose waves, and black rings around my eyes. Hannah was wearing a lilac and baby pink floral sundress; her blonde hair was up in two French braids, and she had the faintest smattering of make-up on.