Imperio ⇢ D.M

Chapter Sixty Eight

Missing Her

Bellatrix roughly turned her nephew's head to the side to further examine the scars on his face left by Harry Potter the year before. They had healed significantly, but the long gashes are still clearly visible on his face.

"Who did this?" Bellatrix hissed as she let go of Draco's face. Draco didn't respond, looking down at his black shoes, purposely avoiding eye contact with his aunt. "Come on! I want to know who ruined your looks!"

Draco sighed, "just an accident during a duel," he brushed off, "nothing serious." Narcissa led her sister away, asking her to leave her son be. Bellatrix however wasn't having any of it. She ranted to her sister that Draco was unpresentable to the Dark Lord. Draco rolled his eyes as he eavesdropped, since everyone he knows has seen the scars, and never questioned it.

He traced his fingers over the particularly deep scar on his left cheek, cringing at the feeling of his healing skin. He wasn't too fussed about the scars left on him, his physical appearance didn't matter too much to him anymore.

Life at home was not the same ever since Voldemort made it his new headquarters. Draco felt like he was being watched at all times, like his thoughts were being read. After years of believing that blood status was key and Muggles were scum, Draco was almost eager to become a Death Eater before it was ever forced upon him. With his upbringing, he thought Voldemort would change the world for the better.

Sitting in his room alone, holding back tears, Draco realised how wrong he was, wishing he were somewhere else, anywhere but under the same roof as the Dark Lord.

The past few months, Draco spoken to no one unless spoken to. The only person he replied with more than a sentence was his mother, and when he talked to her, he poured his heart out about how he felt. About Voldemort, about the fear of the war, and even about Arden.

He tried to not think about her as much as he could, but who was he kidding? That was almost impossible for him to do. He ill during the day not knowing if she was okay, he didn't exactly give her one of the greatest goodbyes ever.

He missed her rosy cheeks, and how they'd become brighter every time she laughed or smiled. He missed her stunning silver eyes staring at him with unconditional love. He tugged onto his hair, the pain he felt in his head made him stop thinking about her. He didn't want to stop thinking about her, but it only made him miss her more. Not to mention, Draco was paranoid that Voldemort could somehow read his thoughts without him knowing. He may have mastered occlumency, but that didn't mean that Draco wasn't afraid that Voldemort could break into his mind.

Narcissa returned to his room, reassuring that Bellatrix wouldn't intrude anymore. She hurried next to her son as he noticed a tear roll down his cheek.

"Draco? Are you alright?" She hummed, wiping away the drop of water with her thumb.

Draco's voice was almost inaudible from how quiet he whispered, "I miss her..."

His mothers arms wrapped around him tightly, and he leaned his head on her shoulder.

"I know, sweetheart... you'll see her again soon-"

Draco scoffed, "you say that every time-"

"It will happen. You'll see her again, she'll be happy, healthy, no harm done to her." Narcissa interrupted. "Don't assume the worst, people have noticed that you're worried about something. "

Draco sighed, knowing that his mother was right. He stood up from his bed, and looked down at her. "Can I at least be in contact with her?" He begged.