Lady Malfoy and The Boy Who Broke Her Heart

(Art by the incredible @JarvisLin1210)

Dracaena was sitting with her parents in the drawing room when a commotion happened at the front door. Her mother, Narcissa, stood up and left the room to see what it was, leaving her alone with her father, Lucius. Alone for the first time with her father since Christmas, she sat alone in her thoughts.

Dracaena had been through so much since last year, and had accepted her fate. She, as the heir to the Malfoy family, had finally moved on from that Potter boy after he so viciously cut her up. She could feel the scars he made upon her otherwise perfect skin as they brushed up against her dress.

Her dress.

The first dress she's worn in a very long time. It was satin, a mix of black and dark green with black lace along the neckline. A stitched snake wrapped themselves around each of her sleeves. They matched her favorite hoop earrings, which she was wearing once again.

Those sleeves, however, she would not give up. Feeling the scars were bad enough. Showing them to the world, let alone even seeing them, was beyond the pale.

She figured it was about time that she dropped those suits, after listening to her father talk to other families, planning her marriage to unify and strengthen their bloodlines. She was to be Lady Malfoy, at least for a while, and she must look and act the part.

Voices from the entryway echoed up the stairs and into the drawing room. She couldn't hear much, but she could make out "We've caught Harry Potter!" said by a rather unpleasant man.

Her blood ran cold. Potter? Here? Right now? Dracaena's heart started beating faster. She hadn't seen him since that day in the Astronomy Tower, almost a year ago at this point. It was good for her, having the distance, but that did not matter now.

He, the Boy Who Broke Her Heart, was at her home and delivered to her on a silver platter. She could finally get rid of him once and for all, if not for her, then for her family and her future.

But why was she so nervous?

A general din grew louder and louder as an avalanche of footfalls climbed the stairs, with an occasional thump and grunt heard as they grew closer. The steps grew silent to Dracaena as time went on, but she realized the could not hear them due to the pounding in her chest echoing in her ears.

Her hands began to hurt. She looked down to see her unpainted yet immaculately manicured nails dig themselves deep into the armrests of her chair, trying to run and hide: the one thing she couldn't do as Lady Malfoy. If Potter was indeed here, it was time to save her family and do what must be done. She made her fingers relax, and her hands felt better again, but an incessant tapping started up at the same time which sounded suspiciously like one of her shoes on the floor below her chair.

The doors to the drawing room swung open, and Dracaena was happy to be facing the other way. The small fire was almost unnecessary as it was Easter, but it did help with the chill in the air that wasn't there but a few minutes ago. Her father rose and turned to see what Narcissa had brought to them.

"What is it?" Lucius called out to Narcissa as she entered.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa coldly replied. "Dracaena, come here."

Dracaena took a deep breath. She refused to look at the mirror above the fireplace, too scared to know what laid in her future. She rose to join her father and turned around to see if Potter was really there, but was surprised to first see Fenrir Greyback and she involuntarily shuddered. She never did like that... wolf, she finally chose after a moment's search.

Beside him was Potter, roughly held by the scruff of his neck in one hand by Greyback. She knew it was Potter the second she saw him, despite his unkempt appearance and... whatever happened to his face. Probably a Stinging Jinx, judging by how taut and pink it was.

She looked at him, taking in how low he's brought himself. Long hair, almost as long as hers now that she was growing it out again. A faint shadow stretched along his chin. He's grown a tad taller as well, and for a second she couldn't help but think he was... handsome.

She stopped herself there. No. Her scars brushed against the satin of her dress to remind her of who he really was. She, Lady Malfoy, was above this half-blood Potter and everything he did to her... everything he stood for, she corrected herself.

"Well, girl?" rasped the werewolf.

Dracaena looked at Potter and started crossing the room towards him. Even with his eyes no more than slits, she could tell Potter was avoiding eye contact with her. Dracaena was fine with that. She didn't need the extra pressure. She stared at the Boy Who Broke Her Heart, Potter, as she crossed the room. Finally, as Lady Malfoy, she could crush that insolent boy that has caused her and her family so much harm and so much pain.

And so much heartbreak.

The room was quiet, save for the steady sound of her shoes as she crossed the room. All eyes were on the two of them... once again. She walked across the drawing room, but all she could see was the Great Hall from three Christmases back. Harry, her Harry, standing there in his dress robes from that wonderful night, held out a hand and smiled. She started to smile as well and began to raise her hand, then she blinked and returned to the drawing room.

Harry was standing there, still avoiding her gaze.

Greyback, his stench filling her nostrils, was standing beside him.

The crowd of other prisoners, which Dracaena still paid no mind, stared on.

The Snatchers, with their greed in their eyes, waited for their inevitable reward.

Her mother and father, looking expectantly upon her for their salvation.

All of their futures relied upon her to say the word, to call Harry out, and to end this war once and for all. In the name of her family and in the name of the Dark Lord.

And all she could feel was shame.

She had everything she was ever raised to want and yet she was empty inside.

She was Lady Malfoy, yet the name she wanted was a curse she spat at the boy... the man before her.

She felt her scars brush against her dress, yet the only scar she wanted to feel, under her lips, was the one in the center of her sight.

Harry still hated her, of that she had no doubt. She was sure of that. She had done unforgivable things in so many ways and for so many times to him. There was no way he could ever forgive her for what she did to him, and she could not bear the thought.

But he was still her Harry, at least to her.

Stupid Harry, making her lose her mind like this. Now? Right now? Just as she had accepted her destiny as Lady Malfoy? That boy drove her insane. Dracaena bit her cheek to hide her smile. She hadn't felt like this in a long time.

She vowed to herself, right then and there, to make things right between them. Somehow. The details as to exactly how she would achieve that impossible goal, as many of her plans often started out, did not appear in her mind.

All except one.

"Well, Dracaena?" said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded almost avid. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Silence once again as she squinted once to play the role of Lady Malfoy, then she responded.

"I can't - I can't be sure."