Thread: The Secret [HeyThereLittleBear x Timelessmemories]

As the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune and the son of the famous Lucius Malfoy, there were so many things that were to be expected of him. He had as of yet lived up to the name of what he was supposed to be, from being sorted into the Slytherin house and getting himself a spot on the Quidditch team through use of his father's money, but also lived up to his own personality. In the short six years that he'd been at Hogwarts he had carved a niche for himself among the lovely women in the Slytherin house and the easily corrupted males that were seeking their own strike to fame. Draco had spent his years making a name for himself and had done well enough in his grades that he was able to keep passing to the next year. He'd fought his way through his social life until the Malfoy name was emblazoned in the mind of anyone that knew the Slytherin house. He had made quick work of becoming a young a rising socialite in a world where money could literally buy him anything he wanted... Except, really, for one thing that he dared not want openly. Draco lived in a world where he was expected to woo one of the daughters of another rich pureblood and have precisely two children that would grow up just as evil and filled with greed as his family had raised him. In his heart, that wasn't what he wanted and he hadn't known it until he'd found himself quietly yearning for her. It had started sometime in his fourth year when he'd gotten a glimpse of her. Her hair was the color of fire and it was a personification of her spirit, which made her eyes burn like embers and her face in comparison look like a porcelain doll. There was no mistaking her lineage. Fiery red hair, freckled nose and cheeks, and secondhand clothing that looked it had been stitched at home. A Weasley. A blood traitor that sided herself with weaklings like Potter, who believed himself capable of saving the world from He Who Must Not Be Named, and worse, a cocky little shit that pined after her more openly than Draco ever could. Even still he suffered in silence as he watched her from his place in a world where she could not exist. He lived in a world that was devoid of emotion. He kept everything that he felt at arm's length and anything besides contempt clean from his face. In comparison to her burning coal eyes, his were harsh and cold, long dead from having his boyhood dreams crushed and his aspirations for greatness kicked back down to size. Sure, he would be a wealthy and successful man, but he would never be a happy one and the difference was... Vast. This year, though, would be his defining moment. It would be the time when he struck out a name for himself that was separate of his father's name and legacy. He would make it known that Draco Malfoy was more than twice the man his father could be. He was, after all, more cunning than anyone could ever imagine, and more crafty than he could even express.His task was simple enough, but even stil... He was just a boy trying to be a man. The Vanishing Cabinets hadn't worked in years, possibly even decades, and he knew that it was a long shot in the dark that they would ever work again. But he didn't have a choice. Unlike Potter, he wasn't given a life in which he could have chosen to do the right thing.There was one path for him, and he walked it with a grim set to his lips now, the color all but drained from his face and his hair a disheveled mess from his lack of sleep and poor attention to his own appearance. The task had taken its toll on him and he had changed from the beginning of the year. His arm ached dully as a grim reminder of what he was to be and who he had to impress, but even still he caught himself glancing over at Her. The way that her hair moved over her shoulder as she laughed just a bit at a joke he couldn't hear, the way the candlelight caught her eyes sometimes and made them glitter like stars... A forbidden desire. A secret affection he kept locked away in his chest, she was too pure of a thing to ever wanted a twisted and darkened shell of a man such as himself. She wanted someone like... Well, Dean. The guy that she was currently with but seemed to be more interested in his best friend than her. He couldn't help but notice that Dean seemed to be more interested in spending time with Seamus than the girl that was obviously doing her best to keep their relationship together. He felt bad for her, not just because she was the third wheel in a relationship that lasted longer than their own, but because he could see the way her face fell at times when Dean would ignore her when she spoke, or the way that her lips moved from a soft smile to a straight line. He couldn't think about it. He couldn't spend his time on his own petty feelings. Draco forced himself away from thoughts of her entirely and instead made a decision that was... What he needed, not what he wanted. He found himself in the library, getting his hands on any book that would tell him anything he could find about the vanishing cabinets in desperate hopes that he would find something... Anything, really, that would unlock the secrets. With his nose in a book for once, he didn't see her as she came in as much as he realized that he wasn't alone. She was quiet enough that he didn't pay much attention as she took a seat at a table, but his body was hyper aware of the other person in the library with him. His nostrils flared as he realized that there wasn't the soft scratching sound of a quill or the soft whisper of pages turning. He gripped the edges of his book so tight that his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched as he fought against the urge to spit something acidic at the person that had come into the library to lurk. Everything dissolved into soft surprise as he rounded around the bookshelf and caught sight of bright red hair falling over her pale shoulders, a green shirt making her seem like something from a book than a real person. His sharp insult died in his throat before it had been spoken and he pulled back out of her line of sight. His eyes glanced down at his outfit nervously, correcting the Slytherin tie that was around his neck and straightening his dark grey sweatervest that he'd layered over his white button-down. He looked like he was going to a funeral and she.... He forced his concerns to the back of his mind and tucked his book under his arm. Draco rounded the corner with a look of forced nonchalance on his face, staring at her as if he hadn't already spotted her before. Weasley. He muttered her last name, the only one he'd ever called her before, looking at the pictures she was drawing in the air. Shouldn't you be in Hogsmeade with your... Boyfriend? He drew out the last word, saying it more as if it were a piece of slime than word, his nose wrinkling in disgust.