denial
Draco Malfoy had been in denial. There was no way. There was just no way that this was how it was supposed to be.
When he told Pansy, she tried to take his hand, and he swore on Merlin if it wasn't for the fact that they were standing right in the middle of the Ministry, she would have been hexed into oblivion in a heartbeat.
He remembers the symbol burning against his skin, the perfect little infinity sign feeling less like hope and more like despair by the second. At the time, he didn't understand how his world had imploded in the span of 30 minutes, but then again when had time been good to him?
Draco remembers the moment that grey met brown, a stoic yet friendly nod on his part, a slight smile on hers. They had come far since Hogwarts, but he couldn't blame the slight trepidation that was ever-present on both sides.
Wounds could certainly heal, but some cuts were deep to the bone.
Her infinity mark had appeared inside her wrist, and he knew that because he had been in the same office when he had heard a scream that took him straight back in time.
Straight back to Bellatrix, to Hermione Granger, to sounds that wouldn't stop haunting his mind, even after all these years.
That night, his infinity mark had decided to appear half an hour ago, during a Ministry event. Draco Malfoy had been in denial for the last half hour, suddenly taking a heightened interest in the open bar. His denial wrapped itself comfortably around him, and Draco concluded that he was either having a fever dream or the higher powers had made a horrible mistake that would be rectified by the morning.
Surely, the universe would not be that cruel. Not to her, at least.