Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Return of Bellatrix

Returning to the Burrow was the worst idea right now, as you sat in Jack's bathroom on the floor before the toilet, releasing the contents of your stomach into the toilet, the morning after. He kept his TV on in the front room, as he himself groaned every two seconds and proceeded to cook you and him some chicken soup. The morning with Jack was enjoyable, despite your horrific feelings, but at least it acted as a distraction from the horrible boy who lived rent free in your mind. As you sat at his small table, you both ate your soup in silence, forcing it down with pallid faces. The situation only made you and him gently laugh back and forth.

"Feel better?" He asked.

"I'm hungover."

"I don't mean the alcohol," he said lowly and warily.

Sighing, you continued to eat your soup in silence. Was it possible to feel better? After a heartbreak caused by a boy you cherished so much? No - it was not. The most you could do was repress this deadly pain until it faded away, if it ever did so.

When you'd washed your face, sorted out your hair, dressed yourself back into your casual wear, you bid Jack goodbye as it was time to return to the Burrow, where you were worriedly awaited. He told you to continue writing to him, which you agreed to, and he instructed for you to keep him updated with the Malfoy matters, and he promised to provide you with advice.

Back at the Burrow, when Mrs Weasley inquired about your night out worriedly, asking where you'd been, you stared at her with empty eyes, not processing any of her words. Harry, Ron and Ginny watched you, worried and confused, as Fred and George simply could not hold back their laughter any further, exhibiting the most typical forms of laughter as they shook their heads in disbelief at your state.

"What's so funny?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Oh, please, mum! Can't you tell?" George began.

Fred continued, "the girl's hungover as hell. Get her into a bed."

When Christmas came about, it was spent very pleasantly. The entire Weasley family took you and Harry in like usual, as you were family. You'd received presents from the Weasley parents, and you spent the time even merrily singing Christmas songs. Harry and Ron did everything in their power to keep you distracted at all times, hoping to keep back thoughts of Malfoy, knowing of your endless suffering. Even if you did not express it, they knew, for they could always see the low, dazed eyes with the gentle tears in the corners of their eyes. In moments where you were alone, the feelings got worse; the excessive terror of Draco leaving you ate you up, devoured you harshly, that every moment spent in silence daunted you. Thus, Fred and George, after hearing of your state, also took it upon themselves to always show you their cool new gadgets; they played funky pranks on you. This proceeded throughout the entire Christmas period.

The day after Christmas, most of the members of the Order of the Phoenix came to visit you at the Burrow. All sat around the table, sharing laughter and joys, but it seemed as though they arrived for a deeper purpose than just to bathe in Mrs Weasley's tea. When you came downstairs, you caught them all in the middle of a conversation which was cut short upon the sight of you specifically.

"You don't have to stop talking about it just because I'm here," you sighed, "I'm not going to kill myself over him."

"But you don't like hearing about it," Harry said.

Inhaling deeply, you groaned and took a seat at the table. "Talk about it."

"But, [F/n] - "

"No, Harry. If the boy ... if the boy is a Death Eater ... you were right. That's not a mistake. That's not something you accidentally go into ... so we must be prepared. If he became one ... it means Voldemort is planning something."