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I can't do this can't cant can't can't can-
DRACO!


The Dark Lord had done it again. He couldn't be stopped.

I've can't , please , let me go!
You try that one more time.
Draco immediately regretted his comment as he flinched in pain.
" Professor, I need t-" 
Without even bothering to gather his things, he dashed out of the dungeon and stumbled into an empty classroom. He yanked up the sleeve of his left hand and bust out in cries of pain and anguish.

Please, I'm sorry, one more chance, I swear it'll be different!He could sense the lie in his own voice. The Dark Lord wasn't an idiot.
Draco lowered himself slowly onto the floor, evidently shaken but no worse for wear, she breathed heavily as he knew the worst was over.

Crucio!Or at least he thought it was. Immediately the effects of the Cruciatus curse came into effect , Draco writhed and flinched on the floor, every second more painful than the last,

and then it just stopped.As abruptly as it had started.

So this was how he played with people. 
You didn't want to listen, you were made to listen.
Apparently you had no choice. 
I need to get rid of this, now!
Draco shook as he talked to himself, trying to calm down, trying to get the after-effects of the curse out of his system. And then a flash of long brown hair.

Brown hair?!
Still shaking, Draco hastened out of the classroom. There she was. Ivory skin practically glowing. Hermione Granger. Alone. Walking toward the Astronomy tower.

"Granger!"
It sounded so wrong, so wrong, so wrong.
Draco didn't like the sound of his own voice. It sounded needy. It sounded helpless.
She had turned around
"What do you want?" She asked with her eyes narrowed.
"I  ...”

“Well?” Hermione said, tapping her foot and looking bored, like the sight of him disgusted her.

“Nothing, mudblood.” Draco said at last, turning away as he uttered the last syllable of the phrase. Hermione took another glance at his cape as he walked off into the snow and turned away, feeling somewhat foolish.

Draco continued to pace up and down in the snow, trying to find somewhere to stop and think, trying to find a place of solace away from the fate he knew he had to face up to eventually. He wondered if he should carry out what he had been ordered to. He flinched at the thought and continued pacing, hoping the answer would come to him.

After about a half hour, Draco heard footsteps. He turned his head up, long blond hair he hadn’t bothered to trim grazed his collar as Pansy Parkinson can prancing toward him. “Draco, darling! Where were you the whole of Potions? Walking out halfway wasn’t at all nice! I missed you!” she said in a simpering voice, beginning to gently kiss the nape of his neck and working her way upwards, stopping at his lips which were pink from cold. Draco turned away, and Pansy frowned. 
“What’s wrong? Sick of me already? Honestly, Drac. I don’t understand you these days.” Draco dismissed the comment as she briskly walked away, looking disgruntled.

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