Building A Friendship

Chapter Notes

Mention of past murder

Thursday 23rd of January 1997

It’s early in the morning. Way too early to be up even, but that’s not an issue to Draco since
he technically didn’t wake up, he simply kept his eyes opened the whole night and didn’t
sleep at all.

Now, the darkness was slowly vanishing into the smokescreen of a foggy sunrise which
spread light hazardously and his eyes were still wide opened. He wasn’t closer to fall asleep
than he was six hours ago.

He was sitting against one of the handrail of the Astronomy tower, his back resting against it
as he was sitting on the floor of the balcony. He wished he could’ve slept last night but too
much was keeping him up as his brain soured with the heavy thoughts taking stage inside. A
month had almost passed already and he wasn’t anywhere closer to kill that old man than
he’d been during the past couple of weeks.

In the quietness of the place as the world peacefully awoken around him, Draco’s eyes were
closed as he felt the wind rushing in his hair he now wore short – compared to last month
when he’d come here before the break – and he breathed in deeply to keep the nauseating
feeling from assaulting him altogether. Because the whole ordeal made him sick to his
stomach, no matter how much he tried to pretend that he didn’t care, that he’d find a solution
before the deadline came.

No matter how hard he racked his brain to find a way out of this task, nothing seemed to
come and dread settled in the pit of his stomach each time he failed to save himself from such
cruel irony of fate.

Something was different today, though. Indeed, despite the environing coldness he had to
protect himself from, Draco could feel warmth emanating from a body who was sitting next
to him. He couldn’t see him – he’d explicitly asked Potter to keep the cloak – but he knew he
was there. Not that he needed to feel him to know that, the putrid odour following Potter
around was back tenfold worse than it’d been the past couple of weeks. Draco wondered if it
had something to do with the full moon.

Strangely enough, having Potter by his side made him feel a bit more relaxed than he’d care
to admit. Usually the dork would’ve made his way back to the Gryffindor tower by now but
for reasons Draco couldn’t grasp, tonight he didn’t. And so they stayed together all night as
though it was the most natural thing ever. Draco hated how comforting it was to have him by
his side while facing such turmoil.

After discussing a bit about the task and the whole Sirius crisis situation, Potter hadn’t
spoken again and silence had just settled easily between them. It was not tense or anything. It
was comfortable to some extent and Draco enjoyed it. He hadn’t expected the boy to stay
though, but one rang and Potter didn’t move to go back to his dorm like he usually did. Draco
wondered what that was about but his curiosity wasn’t stronger than the deep desire of some
quiet time and so he never asked and Potter never left him.

At some point throughout the night, Draco began to wonder if that idiot had fallen asleep or
something but then air moved a bit around him and he knew he was still awake. He just kept
his mouth shut, allowing this small little gift – which surely pleased Draco – as he waited
patiently for him to speak. Potter wouldn’t speak without Draco starting the conversation. It
was obvious that he was waiting for Draco to break the silence.

However, Draco had no intention on talking to him either. Even if he wanted to – and he
didn’t, mind you – he wouldn’t know what to tell him. Sure, ever since he discovered the boy
he’d quickly expressed fondness for back in third year was the same boy he’d bullied
relentlessly for years, Draco had put everything in perspective. If he could befriend him once
– though unwillingly and without being aware in first place – then maybe he could do it
twice.

Except it was so much easier back then because the boy he talked to was not Potter in his
head and, almost three years later, Draco knew he had hurt him any chance he got to the point
he didn’t think he would ever be worthy or deserving of his friendship. He did horrible
things, made horrible jokes at his expense and he always made sure to make his life a living-
hell. That didn’t mean Potter was a saint, of course not, he gave as much as he got.

However, Draco feared he’d caused damage beyond repair because no matter how vile Potter
could get, he never crossed the lines the way Draco did in the past and he had no idea how he
was supposed to pretend like those six years never happened. Potter played fairly, Draco
certainly did not. Low blows were his speciality and he never hesitate once before hitting
right where it hurt.

Because he knew it did hurt and he craved for it back in the days. He did bully him and he
did cause him harm and pain.

It made him feel shitty about himself. He knew he was not the same person he once was and
he tried really hard each day to distance himself from his past but that didn’t make it any
easier to start again because his efforts would never be enough to fix the things he’d done in
the past. He’d been a real arsehole to a lot of people, he’d made suffer a lot of his fellows
students and – well… He knew it wouldn’t be fixed easily.

But he wanted to fix this, still. He was not proud of the person he once was but pretending
like it never happened wouldn’t help his case. He had to make amends and perhaps beginning
with Potter would be a good start since they were meant to work together for the greater
good. No. For a peaceful world.
Except he had no idea how to do that and, as previously stated, Draco sucked when it came to
apologise. Though maybe it would be a good start? Maybe he should apologise and then
prove to Potter that he did really care now. That he meant no harm anymore.

He cleared his throat and he wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. Merlin, he was so
nervous. It was ridiculous. No one said anything about doing this tonight but as per usual,
when he had something in mind it was really hard to convince him otherwise and he wanted
to act on it – whatever it was – as soon as possible. Get it out of the way, sort of.

“Potter?” he said quietly but his voice sounded loud in the quietness of the place at the break
of dawn. Potter seemed to startle at that – not that he could see it to affirm it but still, he had
the feeling that he did – and he hummed, waiting for Draco to continue. “I’m sleep deprived
and maybe that’s what’s leading me to do this but I–“ he sighed as he side-glanced to look at
him but saw nothing. “Could you take your cloak off?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

Now was not the moment for another fight. The things he had on the heart were too sincere to
be wasted away and overthrown by misplaced anger. Anger mostly directed at himself by the
way. For once Potter hadn’t pushed his buttons.

Potter’s hand came out of the cloak and he grabbed the fabric – supposedly where his head
was – before he took it off, the cloak sliding along his body and onto his laps where he kept
it. He blinked a bit and he turned his head to look at Draco. Emerald met silver and Draco felt
a jolt rushing through his body and causing shivers down his spine.

Stupid eyes.

Potter readjusted his glasses and he ran a hand in his hair to tame it since it was a bit ruffled
by the fabric. Unsurprisingly, it did nothing to improve his hairstyle despite he did everything
he could so his curls wouldn’t be a complete mess.

“Better?” he asked, his eyes slightly bigger than usually as he stared with an innocent
expression on his face and Draco almost forgot what he wanted to say.

He wasn’t even sure whether the dork was talking about his hair or Draco’s request in first
place. Either way, he waited for an answer and so Draco let out a non-committed grunt which
sounded more like a strangled noise and he nodded. Draco should have seen it coming but it
still took him off guard when Potter granted him with one of his bright and warm smile, those
he only saved for his friends.

Draco wasn’t used to be at the receiving end of those and it showed. His stomach did a weird
backflip and he thought for a second he would be sick – because of the full moon coming
tonight, not because of Potter of course.

How on Earth – with this exact sight in front of him – had Draco could ever think he was
straight? There was just no way.

Potter’s teeth were showing with that wide smile and he didn’t even look ridiculous.
Endearing would be a term more fitting to describe him. Beautiful would be even better. His
dimple was showing, carving his cheek and Draco felt like he’d just discovered a treasure
buried in the sand and he wanted to claim it. He wanted those smiles to always be directed
his way.

He had no right to do that, of course. He’d nipped that privilege in the bud years ago.

He didn’t hate the boy as much as he once did – he honestly suspected the moment they
shared in the trampoling – trampoline? Whatever – had helped him to open his eyes about
Potter and now he kind of regretted being such a twat to him throughout the years because he
valued him more than he could admit.

Draco remembered how Potter had been so vulnerable that day, opening his heart and spilling
his guts about insecurities and fears he never dared to show. One thing was sure: when Potter
went back inside the house that day, Draco hadn’t felt like it’d been so much of a chore to be
there for him. On the contrary. He had wanted it to last a little longer.

Now, as he stared at Potter’s stupid blinding smile, he realised that was why. Potter wasn’t
half as bad as he thought he was. He wouldn’t have liked him three years ago if he were.
Hell, he wouldn’t like him today if Potter was still the same arrogant piece of trash he once
was to his eyes.

Time changed people. Draco surely did change. But now, as Draco stared into his eyes, he
couldn’t help but see the same soft eyes he once dove his gaze into when he was twelve in a
compartment full of people. How was that possible? After everything he’d gone through,
how could he still stand? How could he smile so brightly? Be so cheerful? So hopeful?

How could he be so strong when Draco was a complete mess?

He knew he was still staring – admittedly a bit in awe as his mind came up with the striking
realisation of Potter’s actual mental strength – and he couldn’t care less because that boy
sitting in front of him, smiling like a stupid idiot, was the face of a future Draco wanted to
see. His heart swelled up with hope and he knew it was all Potter’s doing. He just had that
incredible capacity of looking at you and making you feel like everything was possible. Like
everything would be alright.

Yet Draco saw through the cracks of his face that one time after Lily’s return. He’d seen how
fucked up he was, how guilty he felt and how broken he was deep down. He’d seen it all
through one tiny little crack Potter had chosen to let him see. To this day, he still didn’t know
why and, when it happened, Draco hadn’t realised how precious it was.

That’s the thing with those moments, wasn’t it? You never knew how precious they were
until it was too late. Until the moment had passed and it was just a memory playing on a loop
in your head when you couldn’t sleep, shaking your soul to the core with an irrepressible,
gut-wrenching nostalgia as you thought back about that tiny slice of life you once witnessed.

That’s how Draco felt retrospectively as he thought about that day in the trampoline.

Therefore, since he witnessed Potter during one of his most truthful and vulnerable moment
that day, he knew his smiles and cheerfulness were not real. It was all a facade he put up – to
protect himself, perhaps? Despite he knew it was just an illusion, that Potter didn’t know
better than he did what he was doing, that he was completely lost and terrified too, Draco
couldn’t help but believe in him.

Because the longer he stared, the more he was convinced that everything would be alright
because Potter was the Golden boy and he’d deserved that title greatly. There was just
something about him that was soothing and reassuring and Draco helplessly wanted to fall for
the illusion because he desperately needed something to hold onto especially these days.

When the chosen one smiled at you like that, you just wanted to believe it and Draco was just
a man.

“Draco?” Potter called again for the third time in a minute. Fuck, he’d been staring an awful
long time, hadn’t he?

“Draco?” Draco spurted, surprised.

Now he’d recovered from his own embarrassment he couldn’t help but feel completely
startled as he heard his name in Potter’s mouth. Had he ever pronounced it before? Draco
wasn’t sure. Potter’s cheeks flamed hotly as he blushed, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly
opened. He recovered – more or less, he was still blushing – and he scrapped the back of his
neck awkwardly as he chuckled nervously.

“I– I apologise. It slipped out”

“Do you call me Draco often?” he asked because he really needed to know.

Potter stared at him like a doe caught in the lights of a car and he looked like he was looking
for something to answer. Draco instantly knew he was about to come up with a lie – he
wasn’t very subtle this time – and so he shot him a knowing look Potter shut his mouth and
he ducked his head timidly.

“Everyday,” he admitted.

Draco’s eyebrows shot up at the confession. “You speak of me too much, I think,” he said.
His tone sounded teasing even to him. “Everyday seems like a lot. What do you even say?”

Potter’s cheeks only caught fire harder, turning his beautiful tan into a very vivid shade of a
strawberry-like red. Draco smirked at the sight of a very flustered Gryffindor sitting in front
of him and he cocked his head aside playfully.

“Just so you know, you look redder than your scarf,” he informed with a devilish smirk which
only intensified Potter’s blush even more. If Draco didn’t know better, he would think the
boy was about to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. “So? Since when do you use my
name?” he casually asked, his tone detached as though he was talking about the weather.

He had the upper hand, here. There was no way he was going to let him know how it did
things to him to hear his name slipping through his lips. No way!

“Since– Since third year, I think. Ever since I found out it was you I was talking to”
Draco definitely didn’t expect that answer and he gaped at him.

“Are you kidding me? So you’ve been calling me by my name in front of everyone but me?”

“Well, you call me Potter,” he shrugged.

Draco felt his blood boiling because who the fuck he thought he was to be so cheeky when he
was the one who dared to call him by his name but without ever letting Draco know how
pleasant it sounded in his voice? Fucker! But then, he took a deep breath because he really
didn’t want to fight over something as stupid and suddenly he felt really smug about it
because it meant Potter never really hated him if he used his name casually.

Take that Weaslette! He thought childishly and admittedly a bit pettily, too.

Whatever that meant.

“Perhaps shall I call you Prongslet from now on instead, if Potter is too formal for you,” he
deadpanned with an arch of the eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Oh my God, you’re the worst!” he laughed. “No! Do not call me that!”

“You’re the one complaining about it Potter,” he pointed out. “What else am I supposed to
call you if not that?”

“I don’t know, you could use my name?”

“Your name?” he pulled a face.

He would be caught dead before anyone heard him pronounce ‘Harry’ aloud. Only thinking
about it gave him shivers of disgust. Unfortunately, the devilish look Potter sent his way
announced nothing good. He knew he was going to give him shit for teasing him so much
earlier. Had he known it’d backfire so fast, he would have kept his mouth shut.

“Not to go too ahead of myself but I believe that’s why people are given names, Draco. So
other people could use them,” he said smugly.

Draco glared at him. “I’d rather vomit slugs like Weasley instead, thanks”

“Charming,” he deadpanned.

“One of my skills,” he smirked.

Potter shook his head and smiled, amused. “At least say it once. I am sure you’ll see it’s not
that bad,” he said.

“No!”

“Come on, Draco. What are you afraid of?”

“Afraid?” he scoffed. “I’m not afraid of anything, especially not when it comes to you!” he
glared at him quite hard.

What a lie.

“Then say it,” he challenged.

“Fuck off”

“I am pretty sure that’s not my name,” he singed-song with a soft chuckle.

“Shut up Potter, I’m going to hex the shit out of you”

“I’d love to see that,” he replied amused. “But for now all I see is how scared you are of
saying my name. I swear I don’t bite,” he grinned.

And he really shouldn’t have said that because Draco’s dream he had had a few months back
came back to his mind – he would never forget about that stupid dream it seemed – and he
remembered the way Potter’s teeth had grazed his skin while he sinfully kissed him. He was
sure to be flushing as much as Potter had a few minutes ago. He sprang to his feet, flustered
as his hands balled in a fist.

“Shut up! I’m not going to fall for this shit! Leave it!”

“Everyone’s scared of something, it’s okay,” he kept teasing mercilessly, the little shit. Draco
wanted to pull his stupid teeth out and shove them down his throat so he’d stop grinning so
smugly, too busy to choke.

“Fine! I’m going to say it!”

“I’m all ears,” he said, his grin only widening.

“You better listen very carefully shitface because I’m not going to say it twice!” he warned, a
finger thrown at him.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied confidently.

“Potter,” he growled.

“Sorry. Please, go ahead. Impress me,” he said smugly.

“You–“ he exhaled loudly through the nose. “Fine. Here, I’m saying it! Ha– Harry,” he
stuttered a bit as he tasted it on his tongue. It felt fucking weird but it was so worth it just for
the way Potter’s face lighted up before he schooled his face into a smug smile again.

“See? Wasn’t so hard, Draco”

“Fuck off and take that fucking smug smile off your face you useless idiot before I vanish
your stupid mouth,” he mumbled.
But Potter’s grin only widened and Draco felt the urge to throw himself off the Astronomy
tower out of embarrassment. His ears were still hot and his face was way too heated
compared to the coldness of the air. He mumbled something intangible and he refocused on
the sunrise as he tried not to think too much of Potter’s eyes boring holes in his skull as he
leaned against the handrail, turning his back on Potter.

There was no way he would ever call him Harry. That had been such a weird experiment and
he never wanted to try that again.

Potter was Potter. Ally or not.

“People say it gets easier if you say it multiple times. You should say it again, just to check
the theory,” Potter smiled teasingly.

“Don’t push your damn luck, Potter,” he glared at him.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

“Stop saying shit then,” he snorted.

A silence followed.

“I think I liked it though”

“Fuck, you’ve got a thing for me saying your name or what?!” he asked in disbelief which
caused Potter to laugh and to be flustered at the same time.

“No!” he defended himself quickly, maybe a bit too fast actually. “It’s just that it sounds less
formal. More… I don’t know, friendly?”

“And you want us to be friends?” he arched a dubious eyebrow.

Just because Draco had thought about it didn’t mean Potter had too, after all. Better safe to
ask.

“I mean, it’s easier to be friendly if we have to work together”

“Cordial is enough if it’s all about the alliance,” he mumbled.

“Okay then. Maybe I just want to be friends. It’s not like I haven’t hinted at it a couple of
times now,” he rolled his eyes.

Draco stared at him quietly as he assessed the situation. He hummed.

“Who said I wanted to be friends with you though? Just because you want it doesn’t mean I
do too”

“Your little twelve years-old self would disagree with that,” he grinned.

“I grew up since then,” he deadpanned.

“Oh come on!” he whined. “You’re close to my uncle and my godfather. My father seems to
like you too for some reasons and Regulus is eating in the palm of your hand. If my relatives
like you so much, perhaps we could try, too?”

Draco shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, Potter,” he groaned. “Now stop bullying me into agreeing with this madness”

“Friends call each other by their names,” he scolded kindly.

Draco sighed. “If you insist, Harry,” he gave him a pointed look.

“Good boy,” Potter had the audacity to smile teasingly, catching Draco off guard and causing
him to choke on his spit.

He definitely didn’t want to unpack whatever the fuck it was that he felt when he heard Potter
praising him. He was about to dissolve with how heated his body was all of a sudden and he
certainly didn’t want to think of all the reasons causing his heart to pound so hard in his
chest. What he knew, though, was that Potter just provided him with worthy material for his
future wet dreams and he was definitely not going to enjoy it. If anything, he knew he’d
panic even more when he’d wake up.

For fuck’s sake…Potter really was a menace.

Predictably enough, Sirius didn’t come to pick him up.

However, since he couldn’t very well communicate with Remus safely, he didn’t know what
was supposed to happen now he was in Hogsmeade. He thought about staying in the shack
until Remus joined him but what if he never came? Draco would rather not think about it.
Just because Sirius couldn’t come with them this month didn’t mean Remus would abandon
him to his fate… Right?

Merlin, he really needed to have a little faith in him.

He’d love to pretend it was the anxiety he felt about the full moon talking except he knew
deep down it wasn’t. His insecurities made a full-force comeback after everything that
happened with his parents and the betrayal he’d felt down to his core. Now, he was worried
Sirius and Remus would give up on him too.

If his own parents could, who said Remus and Sirius wouldn’t as well?

No matter how much Draco loved to think they were fighting on the same side, he knew it
was not the same as actually being a member of the Order or one of Potter’s closest allies. He
knew he was doing his best but sometimes that was not enough. Actually, most of the time it
wasn’t. If his best was enough, those kids would be alive. They were not and it was his fault.
He could deceive himself all he wanted, at the end of the day he was more of a death eater
than he wished he was. He literally had missions to fulfil for them. How fucked up was that?
Anxiety was creeping in faster than he could deal with and he began to pace. If he were
Remus, he wouldn’t come either. He deserved to be left on his own devices after everything
he’d done, all the pain he’d caused and all the things he didn’t do – like saving those kids. He
wasn’t a good person so why would anyone waste their time with him?

Maybe that was why he’d been so mad at Willow for calling him ‘despicable’. She’d seen
right through him, right? He couldn’t deny she was right. Not after everything he’d done and
all the hateful words he had been spitting through the years. And let’s not even talk about
those he never said aloud… Merlin, he was horrible.

And perhaps had he forgotten just how true that was because he was trying to do the right
thing as though it’d change anything and so hearing those words coming from her had hit him
right across the face. It’d felt like a cold as ice bucket had been poured onto him.

Spiralling was a dangerous thing in normal times but around the full moon, the risks only
worsened. As he paced frantically, his mind supplied him with all the times he’d been a
terrible human being and he fell right back to square one, when he still loathed himself to
death. He could pretend all he wanted that he was now in charge, his mind was fucked up and
it always came up with the harshest truths – those he most definitely didn’t want a reminder
of.

Death eater’s scum.

He still heard the man’s voice in the street that day calling him that. He still remembered it
like it was yesterday but now, it was even worse because the situation evolved and that insult
resonated in him more than it had any right to. He wished he was less sensitive, that he didn’t
take it to heart but he did. And it fucking hurt.

His hands were now lost in his hair as he kept pacing, his breathing got a bit more shallow
and it shortened, too. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t go on full mental breakdown
right now. His emotions were enough of a mess as it was and when he was too caught up in
them, he got carried away and suddenly he couldn’t focus on anything – not even his senses
which was a massive problem considering they were meant to protect him.

It was like everything suddenly blurred and he was lost in an ocean of distress, like those
sailors in stormy seas.

He forced himself to slow his breathing. Berating his feelings would do no good, he’d
learned that much with Regulus after all the time spent with him during their Occlumency
classes. Now, he could meditate to keep everything at bay and put up effective mental shields
but Regulus had also been very clear about it: he had to allow himself to feel.

Regulus thought his emotions were such a mess because he was so used to conceal them and
pretend like they didn’t exist. Except now he was a werewolf, he couldn’t just do that – not
that Regulus knew that. So he had to learn to coexist with his emotions, listen to his body and
deal healthily with whatever he felt. He had to be true to himself and accept the very simple
fact that, as a human being, he did have emotions and they were not his enemies.

But for fuck’s sake, that was hard!

The door downstairs hissed as it opened and fortunately, by the time it did, Draco had
managed to calm down. He turned around, waiting to see Remus – at least he hoped it was
Remus – as the stairs cracked beneath someone’s feet and he stared. Thankfully, when the
person came in sight, Draco was relieved to see curly sandy hair and warm amber eyes
staring at him meanwhile his lips were curled up in a smile.

“Hello,” Remus greeted.

“Hi,” he replied politely.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late. The ministry sent Aurors to search Grimmauld Place,” he explained.
Draco’s heartbeat anxiously quickened a bit at that. Remus raised a reassuring hand instantly
as he caught it fast. “Don’t worry. Sirius wasn’t there. We found a new place to hide him,” he
explained. “I can’t tell you much about it but yeah. He went into hiding”

Draco released a relieved breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding and he nodded.

“Good,” he said in a breath.

“We can’t leave Hogsmeade though,” he said.

“Why not?” he frowned.

“They’re keeping an eye on me. If they see us together, they’re going to jump to conclusions
and we both know it won’t be the right ones,” he said.

“So… We’re staying here?”

“We could stay inside yes, if you want. But I think it’d be better to go to the Forbidden
Forest”

“The– the Forbidden Forest?!” he asked nervously. Remus chuckled.

“Don’t worry. It’s not as scary as it seems, especially not when you’re a werewolf,” he gave
him a reassuring smile and Draco hummed, unconvinced. Remus took off the backpack he
carried on his back and he put it on the floor to open it. “I hope you’re hungry. I cooked
before leaving considering everything,” he said.

“What did you make?”

“Nothing too fancy, just potatoes with turkey and cream,” he explained. “Oh and for the
desert, we have some apple pie. I baked it this morning before everything happened and I
didn’t want it to go to waste”

“Sounds delicious,” he said with a smile.

“I’m glad you approve,” he returned the smile. “Now, let me move the furnitures around so
we can eat”
Draco stepped back to leave him the room he needed to move and he watched as Remus
waved his wand, one hand stretched above his head as to keep a firm control over the spell he
cast. The furnitures came from a bit everywhere. A dusty wooden table rushed in the room by
the stairs. Two chairs followed shortly but those came from the room on the same floor Draco
hadn’t even noticed until now. Then, what looked like a tablecloth came in next from the
cupboard behind a big out of tune piano followed by plates and cutlery.

Draco watched in awe. He didn’t think so many things were kept in there. Turned out he was
wrong.

When everything was settled on the table, Remus took two candles out of his bag and he
placed them on the table before he lighted them up. With a swift twirl of the wrist, he cleaned
the dust from the furnitures, the cutlery and the plates and he even cleaned the floor. Just like
that, the shack looked a lot more welcoming all of a sudden.

Draco sat on the chair while Remus took the food out. He’d kept it under a stasis charm so it
wouldn’t get cold and – exceptionally, they ate early. Usually, they ate around eight in the
evening but tonight it was barely seven. That’s probably because they didn’t need to go back
to the shack. Draco wondered how it’d feel like it spend the full moon here. He was so used
to the forest now. It felt a bit disconcerting but as long as he wasn’t alone, he supposed it was
doable.

The conversation they had while eating was nice. Mostly, they talked about art since it was
something they both understood and it was very pleasant. When they finished eating, Remus
cleaned the plates and Draco put them back from where they came from, then they came back
to sit around the table and they began to play a card game to pass time.

“Have you heard anything about the dagger yet?” Draco asked while playing.

“No, still nothing,” he shook his head.

“You couldn’t tell me much the other day but I want to know”

“Mmh?”

“Why are you all looking for it?”

Remus paused at that and shot him an undecipherable look. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid, Remus. If he was just looking for any dagger, you wouldn’t even know about
it. He looks for a loads ton of shit all the time and yet it’s a dagger you’re all worried about.
You said it was an important object. Why is it? Why are you all freaking out about it?”

Remus’ face remained stoic for a few seconds before it broke in a mischievous smile.

“Sirius was right. You would’ve asked questions about it eventually”

“So? Are you going to reply?”

Remus put the cards down on the table and he focused entirely on Draco so Draco did the
same.

“The dagger is extremely precious because according to the myth surrounding it, it belonged
to the first Black known to this day. He’s said to have killed a basilisk with it,” he said.

“With a dagger?” he asked, unconvinced.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Who would be gullible enough to believe that? We’re talking about a basilisk. How could he
defeat it with a little dagger?”

“I don’t know but he did according to the myth”

“That’s ridiculous,” he shook his head.

No but for real, it was! There was absolutely no way someone could kill such creature with a
tiny little dagger which allowed only such short range. A sword would be more believable, in
his opinion. At least it’d make more sense.

“Do you know what happened during your second year at Hogwarts?” Remus asked.

“When the chamber was opened and everyone started to freak out? Yeah, I remember”

“Yes but do you know what actually happened?”

“We heard rumours,” he shrugged. “Nothing I cared to listen, though. Some said Potter
fought a basilisk and won but who knows how much truth it carries,” he snorted.

“It’s all true,” he deadpanned.

Draco frowned slightly as he stared at him. “You’re lying,” he said flatly.

That was even more ridiculous than the prospect of a man killing a basilisk with a dagger.
Potter was twelve at the time! It made no sense that he won.

“I’m not,” he smirked. “Harry did fight a basilisk and he won. But that’s not what I was
thinking about when I asked you that question”

“What then?” he frowned.

“Your father gave a diary to Ginny that year”

“Weaslette?” he asked, surprised.

Remus hummed and nodded. “The diary contained a fragment of Voldemort’s soul which
Harry managed to kill that day using one of the basilisk’s teeth”

“What the fuck?” he asked, stunned.

“Yeah. Turns out the diary was a horcrux. Have you ever heard of those?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“It’s an object which could be literally anything and in which a wizard puts a fragment of his
soul. This way, the wizard can’t die”

Draco stared at him blankly but he blanched as dread settled in his stomach and he felt sick.
That was definitely not a good thing.

“And… You think he put a fragment of his soul into the dagger?” he asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “The dagger was made by the Goblins which means it absorbs–“

“Only was strengthens the blade,” he finished as he understood where Remus was going with
it. “So you think the dagger can destroy a horcrux? But you said Potter already destroyed it”

“He did. But we think it's not the only one that exists or will exist in the future,” he explained
and Draco swallowed.

“How many?” he breathed fearfully.

“We don’t know. It's nothing we can predict but in case it happens, we need to have
something to destroy the Horcruxes”

“That’s why he wants the dagger, then… So his horcruxes would be safe?”

“It’s a possibility, yes,” he nodded. “However, we’re not sure if he knows how to destroy a
horcrux so he might just want it for what it represents instead. It’s a symbol of power and
strength and according to Dumbledore, that’s the kind of things he seeks for”

“To make another horcrux,” he said, finishing Remus’ thought for him since he wasn’t going
to.

Remus nodded. “Yes,” he said. “That’s why we need to find it. Because if he manages to
make another horcrux, killing him will be harder. We think the diary was the only one he had.
We need to make sure no other will be created. Anyway, we want the dagger because to this
day there are only two weapons to destroy them to our knowledge”

“Two?” he frowned.

“The dagger and the Gryffindor’s sword since it’s also one of the Goblins’ creation and Harry
used it to kill the basilisk”

See? A sword sounded instantly more believable than a dagger. He struggled to wrap his
mind around the idea that tiny weapon could destroy the epitome of dark magic.

Draco nodded. “It makes sense. Okay, uh… I’m not sure yet whether or not I’m going home
on Easter break but if I do… I’ll do some quick research and I’ll try to hear about it as much
as possible,” he promised, a grave expression on his face.
“Thank you,” he smiled.

“Remus?”

“Yeah, pup?”

“Speaking of dark arts I… There’s something I wanted to ask,” he said hesitantly.

“Sure, ask me”

“I know I should probably ask Potter instead but I– there’s…” he sighed. “Does he…? Does
he practice dark arts sometimes?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up on his forehead, surprised by the question. But then, he seemed to
see why Draco was asking and he schooled his face into something akin to sadness.

“Because of the smell, right?” Remus asked, taking Draco by surprise. “I can smell it on him
too. But as far as I know, he’s always smelled this way, at least ever since….” he trailed
before he cleared his voice. “It makes sense though. Just because the spell didn’t kill him
doesn’t mean it didn’t leave a mark on him,” he pursed his lips.

Could it be the scar?

“So you’re telling me it’s normal that he reeks all the time? I mean especially around the full
moon?”

“I think so,” he nodded. Draco pressed his lips together and stared at the table as he thought
about it. So Potter was more fucked up than he thought, uh? The scar on his face wasn’t the
only scar left on him that day. For some reasons, it caused his chest to tighten with sadness at
the thought. Remus seemed to catch on it as he placed a hand on top of his. “Don’t worry
about him. He’s strong. He’ll be alright,” he gave him a tight smile.

Draco nodded as he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Okay,” he replied thickly.

“And you’ll be alright too,” he promised with a brush of the thumb over his knuckles.

Draco never wanted to believe him more than he did at this exact instant.
 How To Heal a Thestral
Chapter Notes

CW PTSD
CW Anxiety
Mention of past children murder

Friday 7th of February 1997

February was, as one could expect, freezing.

His hot skin wasn’t hot enough to keep his bones from turning to ice. It was the weirdest
thing ever, to feel the warmth radiating off of him meanwhile he was freezing his balls off.
That was really disturbing. Two extreme should never meet and yet they met in one boy
named Draco Malfoy. Just his luck, really. Winter was there since two months already and
soon Spring would replace the cold white coat of snow blanketing the school land and
covering every inch of green in the wild and yet, Draco still wasn’t used to it.

There were some odd things about being a werewolf that still put him off to this day but that,
specifically, was the worst one. He didn’t understand how that was even possible to be both
freezing and too hot at the same time, it felt like he was suffering a high fever yet he knew he
wasn’t. Actually, he was so healthy – surprisingly so – that this year he didn’t even catch a
cold at all. He didn’t know why, maybe his metabolism treated diseases differently now he
was a werewolf but it was a nice change.

Still, the gap of temperature between within his body and his skin was off-putting and he still
struggled to adjust to it. What was he supposed to wear? Should he dress like he’s cold or like
he’s hot? His Slytherin polar jumper kept him too warm and he always ended up sweating
meanwhile not wearing it sentenced him to coldness. There was just no way to win. Maybe
he should ask for Remus’ advice in that matter, too. He’d been a werewolf for so long, surely
he knew a trick or two to survive through Winter.

But he knew he’d never ask. Each time he thought about something to ask to the oldest man,
Draco just forgot when they met again and always ended up regretting not asking later when
the concerning situation came back to bite his arse. Still, it would’ve been nice to have the
answer as he went further into the forest in this cold morning – or night? The sun wasn’t
showing yet.

He was wandering aimlessly this morning, he didn’t know what to do nor where to go but he
wasn’t tired anymore – or at least his body refused to sleep a few more hours – and so he
decided to go for a walk. At first, he’d considered just walking around the castle until he was
too tired and returned to his bedroom but for some reasons, the idea wasn’t as attractive as
going into the forest now he knew it wasn’t the dark place the headmaster said it was – at
least, not to someone like Draco.

He knew the places to avoid and those he could step in. His wand stretched before him, a
flicker of light ignited the tip to guide his step in the white landscape spreading further than
sight and his feet producing a soft crunch with each step he took, Draco decided to go near
the pixie’s lake. He didn’t know why this place, particularly. Perhaps was it because of its
familiarity – he’d been there a couple of times and knew his way back and forth – or maybe
was it just because he needed the reminder that he could actually achieve something if he put
his mind to it.

He didn’t know.

And he didn’t care to find out.

He just knew he wanted to go there and that was enough for him to go. He needed to breathe
some fresh air after all the time he spent locked in the room of requirement these past few
days. He was getting frustrated again with the cabinet because now, his bigger issue was to
keep whoever went through the passage alive but it was like it was impossible for now –
every time he tried, the bird he placed inside had returned dead.

It kept him up at night because he hated causing pain to innocent creatures for nothing and he
was also extremely worried because he had no idea about what was wrong with the cabinet.
On the outside, it looked perfectly functional and all the diagnostic spells he cast showed no
alteration of the mechanic gears nor any particular dysfunctional features.

If the problem wasn’t mechanical then it must have been something to do with magic instead
and he didn’t know what. Regulus had been clear. He’d said his spell wouldn’t cause him any
harm so surely a poor innocent tiny sparrow should survive the transition too. It didn’t, and
so Draco began to wonder what he’d done wrong.

Either way, he knew he’d soon have to pay a visit to the infamous shop in Knockturn Alley to
check on the second cabinet because he didn’t see what could be possibly wrong with the one
at Hogwarts but he was certain he was missing something.

So Draco decided to relax a bit and clear his head before the day started because it was
painfully exhausting to constantly mull the situation over while being nowhere near to fix the
problem. When he arrived at the Pixie’s Lake, the sun was finally rising, turning the sky in
shades of pale blue, pink and purple. It was sumptuous as per usual. He stopped walking for a
bit after he reached his destination, just to admire the pixies flapping their wings in the
morning light.

Luna had been right the other day, the sight was beautiful.

He stayed there a little longer, even after they were all gone and he opened the diary he’d
taken with him to read his notes about the cabinet – so much for relaxing, right? But he
couldn’t help it. He was racking his brain, coming up with theories and hypothesises to
explain what was wrong. Maybe it was the spell? Maybe it was the movement he did to cast
it? Or maybe he’d been wrong all along and there was something wrong with the cabinet and
he had to find what.

In his diary, he kept notes of every single experiment he did since the cabinet had been fixed
– from the first one when they found out about Regulus’ spell to the last one he did last night
when he killed the poor bird he’d placed in there. He hated using animals to test the cabinet
but it wasn’t like he had much choice. He had to see if it was viable. And for now, it was not
yet it was the last step before the task was completed. After that, he’d be finally free from this
one.

Flipping the pages one by one at slow pace to take them in properly, Draco wondered if it
wasn’t preferable this way. Maybe he shouldn’t try to fix it. Maybe he should just tell
Voldemort that the cabinet was ready even though it wasn’t and lead the death eaters to their
death so there wouldn’t be any innocent casualties when they’d come in.

Maybe.

No. What was he even thinking about? Betraying Voldemort was a thing, pretending to be
someone he wasn’t was one too but this? This was another level of stupid even Potter would
never dare to reach – and that was saying something – and he wasn’t suicidal enough to try it.
What if Voldemort sent someone to make sure Draco told the truth and that someone never
came back because they’d die between the cabinets?

It sounded too risky.

To protect everyone, he’d have to count on Regulus, Sirius and Remus, perhaps even the
Order or whatever the name of their organisation was and Potter – Harry? No, Potter. That
was it. It wasn’t his role to play in this part of the conflict.

Because Draco wasn’t a saviour, he was no hero either. He wasn’t even a protector. He was
just a weaponised chaotic kid who would surely bring the world to its knees if not for other
people busying themselves to control the damages he was bound to cause and he knew it. So
he’d leave saving to the true heroes because knowing himself, he might cause more deaths
than necessary if he tried.

By the time he walked back to the castle, the sun had risen completely and was shining above
his head. The gloomy forest looked so much more welcoming in daylight – though not less
scary, that was a fact. It was easier to find his bearings too now the sun was washing lights
over the trees and the snow coating the usual muddy path he was borrowing.

He was about to push a branch out of his way, the last rampart between him and the breakfast
his stomach was craving for when he heard a noise. His foot froze midway from breaking a
stick and he pricked up his ears. Nothing came for a second and so he thought it was
probably his imagination but then he heard a wailing voice instead and he knew he wasn’t
dreaming those sounds.

It sounded like a wounded animal. He frowned.

Should he stay on the path and go back to the castle as though nothing had happened or
should he go and check for himself? The forest was vast and dangerous if he walked away
from the path, he knew it. Still, instinctively he wanted to reach out and check on the sound
he heard, he wanted to make sure everything was okay.

His feet moved on their own accord and he found himself searching for the sound, following
the direction where he’d heard it coming from. His hands pushed the branches with urgency
as he walked as fast as possible through the forest – as fast as the snow allowed him, at least
– cutting diagonally through the trees and walking away from the path – from safety. His
breathing dissolved into smoke in the cold air and it came quicker than usually, warming up
his flushed cheeks a bit.

One last effort and another branch pushed away from his face, Draco finally found what he
was looking for. He inhaled softly as he looked at the weird tiny creature laying on the floor,
moving its legs helplessly as blood tickled down its black fur from the left flank.

The creature looked like a horse but it was more… skeletal. Lifeless. Draco could see the
bones even from distance and the fur looked thin and scattered scarcely across its skin – or
what remained of it – like hairs on your forearm. Its eyes were white and smokey, as though
clouds were travelling in its irises and it was so tiny, no bigger than an adult Alsatian.

“A thestral,” he breathed, his eyes horrified.

They looked rather terrifying but not for reasons people might think. Draco was terrified
because as he looked at the creature’s eyes, he couldn’t help but remember those who bored
holes into his soul weeks ago. Those which caused him today to be able to see that creature in
first place. His first thought was to turn around and leave. Running away. He wanted to go
away, he wanted to protect himself from the flood of memories coming to his head at the
sight of the creature and what it represented, what it meant to see it but his resolve died when
he heard the thestral whining in pain.

He couldn’t help but hold his breath, never releasing it until he swallowed harshly and let it
out slowly with difficulty. He couldn’t do anything for that little girl that one time, but he
could help the thestral. That was not the same and it wouldn’t make amends for his inaction
costing the life of young and innocent children but it was the best he could do.

He could help that thestral and make sure it lived to see the sunset tonight. He didn’t know
how yet, but a force within told him he had to make sure it would happen. It was enough to
set him in motion again.

He took a step forward. Carefully and quietly, he moved towards the injured animal, a hand
stretched as to show it he was no menace. The thestral still reacted badly to his presence as its
head rose from the ground as it tried to shift its weight to stand on its legs while it neighed. It
couldn’t, though. It was stuck on the ground, its body colliding harshly with the snow when it
tried to stand.

“Shh,” Draco cooed. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said thickly, his voice softer on
purpose to induce trust in the wild animal.
The thestral neighed again but it didn’t move since it probably hurt it too much. Draco
approached with more confidence, though still slowly enough not to spook it and he let it
sniff his hand, a friendly gesture. The thestral allowed it and nudged its dry and rough nose
against his palm. Draco’s heart stuttered in awe and he released a shaky breath, relieved. He
was touching a thestral, one he could see! Tentatively, he lifted his hand and he patted its
head. The thestral allowed it again.

Once he managed to calm it down, Draco crouched next to it and he shifted aside to check the
wound. It wasn’t deep, thankfully, but it would require some healing and he had no idea what
he was he supposed to do. He didn’t have the required knowledge to help it but he knew who
would. He came back next to its head and he patted it soothingly as he talked.

“I’m coming back, buddy. Okay? I’m not leaving you here”

The thestral made a noise but Draco knew it probably didn’t understand what he was saying.
Still, he felt bad for leaving it. It looked so young and scared. Without thinking about it too
much, he straightened to his full height and he walked away from it, at first carefully and
then when he was far enough he sprinted towards the castle. He didn’t want to waste his time.

León and Luna would know what to do in those cases, he had no doubts so he ran faster than
ever and he took the stairs of the outdoor yard twice at a time. He just needed to find them
first. When he entered in the castle, he stopped running because he knew McGonagall would
take points if she saw him running but he walked fast – really fast.

Everyone would be in the Great Hall for breakfast so he expected to find them there. He
hoped the thestral would be alright for as long as it took to find them. Thankfully, when he
turned another corridor and took another pair of stairs, he found Luna skipping towards the
Great Hall, her long blonde – almost white – hair whipping her back and flying from left to
right like the pendulum in the clock tower.

Two strands of hair which would normally fall into her eyes had been tied at the back of her
head, a tinsel of white daisies wrapped all around her strands. She was wearing her bee
earrings today which clashed with the blue Ravenclaw uniform she was wearing but it took
nothing away from her mystical look. On top of her tie, a necklace was hanging there and
falling almost to her stomach. The pendant was nothing but an actual phial which contained a
golden sparkling liquid.

Close to her chest, she was holding two books with fingers covered with rings – a moon, a
star and a sun all placed on the same finger. The others were less fantasist as it was just
golden rings though she had one on her left thumb which looked like the legs of a frog.

All in all, it was odd, but very Luna.

Never before did Draco think he’d be so happy to see her but as soon as she saw him, she
smiled softly and Draco felt like returning the gesture. He didn’t however, because things
were serious and he had to tell her about it so he schooled his face into a blank expression
instead – it was like his face only knew how to do that anyway.

“Loony! I need you!”

“It’s Luna,” she corrected good-naturally. “What can I do for you?” she asked with her soft
tiny voice.

“There’s a thestral in the forest it’s–“

“How do you know it’s a thestral?” she asked surprised. “I thought you couldn’t see them?”

“What do you think?” he groaned. “Obviously it didn’t tell me it was one so use your brain”

“Oh,” she breathed as she seemed to understand before she came and gave him a little hug
which he didn’t return. “I’m so sorry”

“Don’t,” he clicked his tongue. “That’s not what I came for”

“The thestral, right. What about it?”

“It’s injured and it needs help”

“Could you bring me to it?” she asked, her face falling into concern.

“I came to get you actually so yes,” he deadpanned.

“Great!” she smiled. “I am going to pick my first aid kit, I’ll be back! Wait here!”

“Wait– wait here?” he replied in disbelief. “The Ravenclaw tower is at least fifteen minutes
away! I told you the thestral needs help and it needs it now!” he said.

“I’ll be quick!” she replied as she began to run through the corridors.

Draco groaned. He should’ve expected something like this but it still pissed him off. His
stomach gurgled and he felt hungry as the scent of food came from the Great Hall but he
wouldn’t eat before another hour at the very least – he might just skip breakfast altogether.

With Luna gone and the passage of a multitude of students, Draco sighed and walked to the
wall where he leaned on so he could wait for her without disturbing anyone – younger Draco
would be ashamed at that thought, he’d loved causing so much chaos back in the days but
he’d changed a lot now.

“What are you doing here?” Pansy asked as she approached him. Just like he did, she pressed
herself against the wall and she watched as everyone walked by them.

“I’m waiting for someone”

“Someone?” she arched an eyebrow. “Good to know you remember how to do that since you
were already gone when I left the common room this morning,” she mumbled.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t start being jealous”

“I’m just saying and I wouldn’t have to if you paid a bit more attention to me,” she snapped.
“I literally spend half of my time with you. What more do you want?” he asked, slowly
getting annoyed.

“As if it was enough. Don’t think you’re already forgiven for all the time you spent ignoring
me,” she glared at him.

“I was protecting you”

“I didn’t need your protection,” she clicked her tongue. “So? Who are we waiting for?
Medusa?”

“No”

“Surprising since you’ve been spending so much time with him”

Draco paused at that and he shot her a look before he replied. “What is this? What are you
doing? Did you wake up this morning with the firm intention to piss me off or something?”
he hissed. “Shall I remind you all this mess was your idea?”

“I know damn well it was,” she said though at least she sounded less angry.

“So what’s your deal?”

“I just didn’t think you’d spend all your time with him, is all”

“What did you expect exactly? I told you everything! You know how bad the situation is so
really, I don’t get it!”

“I don’t want you to change!” she half-shouted half-whispered. “You don’t understand. I
thought you were done with me when you abandoned me–“

“–I didn’t abandon you–“

“–You did!” she glared at him. “Call that however you want but I know how that felt!”

“Pansy–“

“That’s besides the point,” she interjected before Draco could start spitting a long apology.
“What I mean to say is that when you came back and I let you in, I thought everything would
be like it used to be. Except it’s not. And I understand why but… Seeing you spending so
much time with Scarhead is so disturbing. I’m just worried you’re going to forget about us,”
she admitted quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he pulled her closer. “Look, I know nothing I could say will
change that but I promise you that no one will ever compare to you. Scarhead and I aren’t
friends. We’re just taking advantage of each other in order to end this mess,” he explained.

Somehow, it felt like a lie.

Since that conversation they shared together, Potter looked more friendly. He ignored Draco
altogether when they shared classes instead of starting fights or pushing his buttons, he
always joined him in the astronomy tower with something to eat and he shared it with him
and, sometimes when they both dove too much into the night and stayed awake, their
conversations even took a friendly tone which was fucking weird.

Potter told him about his childhood with his fathers, he told him about the way he reconciled
with his mother – or how he’s trying to – and he told him about his friends. Draco even found
himself sharing a few times too – nothing too deep or personal, just silly things like a joke
Blaise told during lunch or he told him about things he did during the day. And that was nice.

But those moments were isolated incidents. It only ever happened at night. Most of the time,
they stayed together at the top of the astronomy tower in complete silence like they always
did. Most of the time, when one of them opened their mouths, it was ever only to speak about
the task or the incoming war.

They discussed the plan thoroughly or they talked about the latest news read in the Daily
Prophet – these days, the newspaper was full of bad news: some were about Sirius (though
thankfully he hadn’t been arrested) but most of them were about recent werewolves attacks.
People were getting scared and paranoid all over again, like it happened during the first war.
They were suspicious of their friends and some even suspected their teachers to be
anonymous werewolves. Things were tensed as more and more attacks happened and coffins
filled with blood, tears and unmatched deaths.

Sometimes, during lunch, Draco even heard some of his fellow students from his house
speaking ill of werewolves. They called them names and they said abominable things – such
as how the ministry should keep them all locked in (as though every werewolves were
registered) and some went as far as saying the ministry should shot them down like ill dogs
before they could turn and kill in return.

Harmful words often reached Draco’s ears and it was hard to pretend like he didn’t care, like
he didn’t mind hearing his close friends saying terrible things about people like him. Blaise
was there though, and it helped. He often told everyone to shut the hell up or sometimes,
discreetly, he’d hold Draco’s hand under the table.

“Draco?” Pansy called. He hummed as he snapped out of his head. “I’ve been calling you for
at least five minutes. Are you okay?” she asked with concern.

“Oh, uh… Yeah. Sorry,” he pursed his lips. “I think I’m a bit tired”

“Blaise told you me you haven’t been sleeping much,” she said while frowning
disapprovingly.

“Well, he’s right,” he cleared his voice. “But I’m fine”

“Is it because of the task?”

“Sort of. I can’t tell you much but uh–“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she brushed off quickly. “What about you tell me who you’re waiting
for, instead?” she smirked.

“It’s no one of great interest. It’s just Lovegood,” he said plainly.

“Lovegood? But–“

“Draco!” León said as he approached them quickly. Both Pansy and Draco turned to look at
him. “Luna told me what happened. She’s in deep conversation with that ghost in the
Ravenclaw Tower so she asked me to come and help you instead,” he smiled.

“Oh,” Draco said, surprised. “Okay. Do you know how to heal a thestral?” he frowned.

“A thestral?” Pansy gasped before León could answer. “Since when can you see them?”

“Not too long,” he replied shortly. “So?” he turned to ask to León again.

“How long is that?” Pansy interjected again, leaving no room for León to speak.

“Pansy,” he said, a warning in his voice.

“What happened?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it”

“You know you can tell me everything”

But the longer they stayed on that topic, the harder it was to repress the emotions he felt as
the memory of what happened came back to the surface. He gritted his teeth.

“I know. Now leave it”

“I want to be there for you”

Those eyes staring at him, boring holes anchored deep into his soul.

“Let me be there,” Pansy pleaded, her sentence followed by the heavy scent of blood filling
his nostrils.

Draco tried to take a deep breath but he felt anxiety creeping in, tightening his chest in the
process like Nagini tightened herself around the painting in his living-room, back at the
manor.

The manor. The place it all happened.

His childhood home turned into a cemetery, the resting place of so many innocent souls.
Souls he watched being ripped off their bodies without doing anything, frozen in place,
knowing all too well it could’ve been him.

Throat ripped right before his eyes.

Gurgling sounds following.

Corpses.

Death.

His heart pounded harder in his chest at the thought.

Boom… One body down.

Boom… Two bodies down.

“So? Are you going to tell me what happened or what?” she insisted. Because of course she
did. She never knew when to drop it.

“Pansy I swear–“

“–oh come on–“

“Pansy, fuck! Stop!” he exploded. “I said I don’t want to talk about it so I am not going to
talk about it and feed your perverse obsession with death and shit like that! Can’t you respect
my decision for once in your fucking life or are you constantly lacking of attention that the
urge you feel of meddling with everyone’s life’s too hard to repress this time again?” he
snapped harshly. Pansy gasped softly before she pursed her lips and her jaw worked.

“Fine!” she spat before she turned on her heel and left to join the Great Hall.

“Wait, Pans! I didn’t mean–“ he tried to say but she didn’t stop and he sighed. “Shit,” he
muttered.

He was almost panting at that point and he struggled to recover from the imminent panic
attack threatening to break out. León placed a hand on his back and he rubbed it soothingly in
silence while he waited for the storm to pass. It took a few minutes but then his breathing
evened and he felt like it was easier to breathe. He was bent in half, his hands on his knees
the whole time. When he was feeling better, he straightened to his whole height, happy he
managed to keep it all down despite how sick he felt.

All the appetite he had a moment before was now gone. Completely gone.

“Feeling better?” León checked gently.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Sorry”

“Don’t be”

“Can we go or do you need to take something with you?”

“I’ve got everything I need,” he smiled.

“Okay, good”
Draco didn’t lose a minute after that and he ran full speed towards the forest. León followed
easily his pace – that wasn’t hard considering how long his legs were – and, when they
finally entered in the forest, they began to walk again just in case of it’d scare off the thestral.
Draco didn’t know much about those creatures so maybe it wouldn’t even hear them coming
but in case it had a good sense of hearing, Draco decided to be careful.

They followed the exact same path he’d followed earlier this morning and they pushed the
leaves aside when it was necessary. At some point, they walked away from the main path to
cut through the forest, the exact same way Draco had done. Conversations started again only
after they passed the most dangerous area.

“I should apologise to Pansy,” Draco said. “I feel bad, I shouldn’t have snapped at her like
that”

“Not to be a prick but she kind of deserved it,” León said calmly as he lifted a branch up so
Draco could pass under.

“Sorry?” he looked at him in disbelief.

“It was obvious you didn’t want to talk about it. You stated it clearly multiple times. She
didn’t drop it and she made you feel bad with yourself for needing boundaries. You even had
a panic attack”

“It wasn’t because of her”

“No, I know. It’s because of the thing she was trying to force out of you,” he said seriously.
“If you couldn’t see the thestrals before but you can now, it means it’s very recent. No matter
whose death you witnessed, it couldn’t have been easy. It never is. She should respect that”

“Pansy meant no harm. She was just curious and she always feels the urge to be helpful. She
thinks we don’t love her if she’s not. I know that,” he said, annoyed with himself. “I
should’ve been more considerate of her feelings”

“Maybe the way you said it was wrong but that doesn’t mean you were wrong to say it in first
place”

“Mmh,” he said. “So what should I do according to you?”

“It seems clear to me that you both need to talk about it. From what I gathered, you two
didn’t talk for months?”

“Yeah, it was complicated–“ he tried to justify himself as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh, no,” he said. “I wasn’t asking for an explanation,” he reassured him. “What I meant to
say is that you both changed in this span of time. You, especially, if what your friends say is
true”

“What do they say?” he asked, an eyebrow arched.

That was going to be interesting. León’s eyes glistened mischievously and he smirked.
“They said you were a pain in the arse. A true jackass like they rarely met one”

Draco laughed in earnest before he shrugged. “I suppose they’re right. I was a real tyrant,” he
chuckled.

“So they’ve said,” he replied, amused. “But I think I like you better like that”

“Trust me, you do. A few years ago not only would I have called you Jack Frost all year long,
I would’ve also made your life a living-hell”

“Oh, no. I know,” he laughed. “I meant to ask you,” he added hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember anything in particular from your fourth year?”

“That is… very specific,” he frowned. “What should I remember?” he arched an eyebrow.

“I don’t know? Anything?”

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “If you ask it’s clearly because you know something I should
remember and it’s obvious that I don’t. So please, enlighten me,” he said as he shoved his
hands in his pockets.

León chuckled. “Yeah okay, you caught me,” he raised his hands.

“Spit it out”

“We met two years ago… Sort of,” he said. Draco racked his brain to search his memory but
he was almost certain he’d never met him until September. Confusion settled on his features
and León chuckled. “I knew you wouldn’t remember but when Hogwarts hosted the triwizard
tournament, I came here with my cousins,” he said. “I was shier back in the days so that’s
probably why you don’t remember me”

“Why do you remember me?” he asked slowly, his eyes narrowed.

Whatever he did that was worth being memorable couldn’t be good, especially not two years
ago.

León wiggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Draco shoved him playfully. “Don’t be a cheeky bastard. It doesn’t suit you. Be a good boy
and tell me,” he teased.

“I’d do whatever you want me to do if you always ask so nicely,” he winked.

Draco’s ears heated but he chuckled, amused.

“Answer the question, that’d be a good start”

León laughed. “Fine, you’re no fun. So, as I said, I came with my cousins. I had my meals in
the Great Hall but I isolated myself a lot because I wasn’t comfortable. I barely spoke English
at the time and I didn’t have much friends at Beauxbatons,” he said.

“So you were lonely?”

“Mostly yes but it’s fine,” he shrugged. “Anyway, it’s during one of the meals that I first
spotted you. But it’s probably because you passed by me and you stole my apple when I was
about to eat it,” he laughed.

“Oh Merlin, is that why you always steal mine?” he laughed.

“I had to avenge myself at some point,” he winked.

“You wanker! I didn’t even remember that!”

“I know, but I did,” he laughed.

“Fucker!”

“Be glad I’m not avenging myself for the other thing you did,” he said, his fingers thrown his
way as though he chastised him.

“It can’t be that bad anyway,” he shrugged. “I was too busy bullying Potter at that time to
really care about anyone else”

“Yeah, I noticed that too but you still found the time to stuck me to the ice statue in the
ballroom,” he gave him a look.

Draco gaped at him. He wouldn’t have done that, would he? But then, as he thought about it,
the memory of that night came back and he put a hand on his mouth as he burst into laughter.
León shot him a look.

“Glad to know that still makes you laugh,” he said.

“I’m– you were– I didn’t know it was you! I should’ve recognised you! Be thankful I didn’t
when I saw you in September or you can be sure I would have made your life a living-hell!”
he laughed.

“But why?! What have I done to deserve that?” he gasped dramatically.

“You know damn wall what you did!” he laughed.

“I swear I don’t!”

“You were being a creep! You stared at Pansy the whole evening! You even followed her
once or twice and tried to talk to her at some point and when she brushed you off you kept
trying–“

“I couldn’t speak English at the time!” he laughed. “I didn’t understand what she said!”
“But she didn’t speak French either and you pissed her off”

“Alright yeah, I can see it now. I understand why it could be perceived as a creep behaviour,”
he laughed. “But you should know I wasn’t trying to make a move on her. I was looking at
you all night,” he confessed.

Draco stopped laughing as he shot him an undecipherable look. Did he mean that?

“I was trying to ask you to dance me all night long,” León added.

“Well, I wouldn’t have accepted back then,” he shrugged.

“And now?” he asked, interested.

“Sorry?”

“That’s something else I meant to ask you but– uh… Valentine’s Day is coming soon and I
was wondering if–“

“I don’t date,” he blurted out before León could finish asking.

León looked caught off-guard by the blatant rejection and Draco felt bad because he didn’t
mean to make things weird nor to hurt him. León looked positively crestfallen now, his smile
still there but not reaching his eyes anymore.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he scratched his head awkwardly. “I–“ he cleared his voice. “Let’s find the
thestral before it dies on us,” he said as he quickened his pace.

Draco quickened his too.

He wanted to apologise or say something but for some reasons the mere idea of dating León
was scarier than falling off his broom from very high in the sky. He didn’t want to lead him
on for nothing – and he knew deep down it wasn’t for nothing because he did like him but
also he wasn’t even sure to be alive next year, his situation wasn’t the best and it was
probably better if he didn’t date anyone. Besides, a date implied a lot and he wasn’t sure he
was ready for that.

When they found the thestral, León managed to help it but he also said it'd need to see a real
doctor as soon as possible and that it might not pass the night if it remained alone in the cold.
Draco instantly volunteered to spend the night with it so it wouldn’t die. He knew it was not a
selfless decision, that he was trying to lighten the guilt weighting on his conscience but also,
deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

So he did it.
 Black Headlines
Chapter Summary

It's angsty. I'm sorry!

Tuesday 11th of February 1997

The first few hours of the day passed at lightning speed.

Draco had barely slept last night, obsessed with the tasks he had to complete. He didn’t know
where to begin when it came to kill Dumbledore, he had no idea how he was supposed to
pretend like he was actually trying to kill him without actually killing him. It was dangerous,
a tight sharpened rope he had to walk on with the promise of a deathly fall if he failed.

That kept him up at night. More often than not, he would be laying on his bed while playing
with his hands nervously, his eyes locked on the upholstery of his bed. Before his eyes, a
million possibilities restlessly passing in a flash until he was boneless, anxious and still as
lost as he was before he began to rack his brain.

That wasn’t very helpful and yet he constantly did that. He couldn’t help it. It was literally
eating him alive. February would soon come to an end – and that was not even an
understatement because it felt like time flew desperately fast now Draco needed it to slow
down – and yet he was still far from having completed at least one of his tasks. The tight grip
anxiety had over his heart only worsened as the days passed.

Like a wrecked ship sailed in a stormy sea with no foreseeable escape and no hope of
surviving, Draco was drowning.

Sitting in class, his brain travelled far away from reality as the issue bounced every corners of
his mind, distracting him from the lesson Severus was trying to teach them. It turned out most
of the students struggled to cast a patronus and Severus thought it’d be better to do a quick
overview of the basis once again because apparently everyone seriously needed the reminder.
Draco’s hand had stilled above his parchment ten minutes ago, his gaze completely
unfocused and tired.

What brought him back to the real world was a flying paper shot his way and poking his
cheek with the pointy side. Draco winced and dropped his quill before he grabbed the paper.
He looked up to check on Severus and he noticed the teacher’s back was turned on him as he
was drawing a schema explaining the theory of the spell on the board. Discreetly, he unfolded
the paper and he looked down to check what was written.
“Blaise’s birthday is in three days. We’re going to party in the common room to celebrate.
Don’t tell him. Let me know if you’ll be there,

Pansy”

His eyebrows twitching slowly as he took in the word she’d sent him, he looked up again to
find her looking back already, expectantly. He pursed his lips and crumpled the paper in a
ball before he nodded quietly to Pansy, letting her know he’d be there. She gave him a smile
before she returned to her lesson. Draco did too. His eyes fell on the board as he shoved the
balled paper in the pockets of his robes.

Things had gone back to normal with Pansy with little to no effort. They didn't talk about
their fight nor did they talk about their feelings. They'd never been good at that. So they
pretended like it never happened and moved on. It wasn't ideal, even he could admit it, but it
was for the best. Words would get in the way if they tried to fix this and then it'd be probably
unfixable since neither of them knew how to communicate healthily.

He picked up his quill again and he tried to understand what was written in that scrawny, tiny
handwriting of his godfather. If he could understand that part, maybe he’d finally be able to
cast that stupid spell.

Sure, things had been tougher for him these past few months but he had happy memories like
everyone. Except they didn’t seem to be strong enough to cast that spell. It was getting
offensive that everyone and their mothers could do it but him. Even Nott had managed to get
a flicker of silver tickling out of his wand the other day. It was just a question of time before
he could cast a corporeal patronus like everyone else meanwhile Draco’s wand remained
deprived of that silvery thread after each attempt.

He ducked his head and pursed his lips ashamed before he set his left hand in movement to
write down the explanation written on the board. He’d get there eventually. He just had to try
harder and muster the courage to accept failure. Maybe that was why he struggled so much?
He was so scared to fail that he inevitably failed. Maybe he should change the way he
approached the spell in order to make it work.

Draco shut off his mind for what remained of the class and he focused as hard as he could on
his lesson in order not to fall behind. Being the last one of his friends able to cast the spell
was humiliating enough as it was, he didn’t need else to fail his classes on top of everything.

When Severus dismissed the class a hour or so later – the classes lasted a hour and a half,
sometimes two hours depending on the days – Draco decided to take advantage of the fact he
had nothing else to do for some time to have a little chat with the man because he really
needed to talk to him.

He waited for everyone to exit the classroom before he walked up to his godfather’s desk. He
was gathering a pile of paper and sorting through them – they were tests they’d done at the
beginning of the class, Draco recognised – and he made them fly to his bag with a twirl of the
wrist. When he turned around, he didn’t look surprised to find Draco standing there. To be
fair, nothing ever seemed to surprise him, the stone cold expression stitched on his face was
never letting anything pass through it.
“Draco? May I help you?” he drawled the question just like every other things he said.

Draco wondered if he did that because he was a measured man or if he liked the sound of his
own voice. Maybe a bit of both, knowing his godfather.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?”

Severus stared at him, his eyes dark and calculating and his lips pinched downwards. Draco
swallowed. Maybe he was bothering him? But then Severus finally reacted as he turned on
his heels and went back to tidying his desk.

“Actually, I did want to talk with you, too,” he said. “There are plenty we need to discuss”

“What do you mean?” he frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t follow”

Severus let out a non-committal noise before he replied. “I shan’t expect anything else
coming from you. You look rather distracted these days. But I will not hold you accountable
for that, I know you have a lot going on,” he said, surprisingly understanding. Draco gaped at
him, taken aback. “However, the matters I’d like to talk to you about can’t be discussed in
such mundane setting. We never know who could be listening. I’ll come back to you about
that in a couple of days. What about you tell me what you wanted to ask”

“I–“ he cleared his voice, still struggling to recover from the surprising striking him. “I
couldn’t help but notice how Regulus and yourself are close,” he said. Severus’ hands stilled
for a second at that, pausing in the movement he was doing before he resumed moving.

“I fear it shouldn’t be any of your concern who I am closed to or not,” he said lowly.

“No,” he said. “I suppose you’re right but… Obviously you’re also very close to my parents
or else you wouldn’t be my godfather,” he pointed out.

Severus let out an annoyed noise before he turned around, towering Draco frighteningly, like
a dark shadow swallowing the light. Sometimes he forgot how tall Severus was and moments
like this did the trick to remind him of it. Draco tilted his head back slightly to meet his eye
and he felt uncomfortable under the judgemental look his godfather sent him while assessing
the situation.

“What are all those astute observations about?” he asked, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“Look, this is me trying to ask something to my godfather. Can you please drop the teacher’s
act for a second? I need to talk to you,” he said, frustrated.

Severus glared at him, his face stilling in a complex expression before he nodded curtly.

“You have a minute,” he informed him.

“Thanks,” Draco said, relieved. Why was it so hard to talk to him? “I needed to ask you
something about the past. I believe it followed the event of the first war,” he said.

“Please, continue”
“I found out Regulus was meant to be my godfather at first. I found out we were quite close
but then my parents and he had a falling out and I have no memories left of him or the time
we shared together as a kid,” he told him. Severus didn’t even blink, his eyes boring holes in
his soul. “I was wondering if perhaps you had an idea why?”

“Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord”

“I know that. I meant why I can’t remember him. I know you’ve seen my memories when
you intruded my mind. He wasn’t there”

“No, he wasn’t,” he confirmed, his lips pursed. “But I don’t know what you want me to tell
you exactly. Regulus and I had this conversation before and I’m afraid I’ll have to tell you the
same thing I told him. I know nothing about it”

“But you’re close to my father,” he insisted. “If anyone knows about it, it’d be you”

“Did you ask your mother?”

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “She doesn’t know about it. At least she said so. Either that or
she lied to me. I wouldn’t be surprised since it turns out I don’t know who she is anymore.
She may be covering for Lucius, for all I know,” he replied dryly.

“Covering for Lucius?” he repeated disapprovingly, his tone severe. “What do you think
there’s even to cover for?”

“I think he stole my memories. I think he took my memories and he locked them away so I
wouldn’t remember Regulus,” he said.

“Your father wouldn’t do that,” Severus denied.

“We both know he would,” he snorted, his arms crossed on his chest.

“No, I mean he would think about doing it but he wouldn’t have the magical abilities to do
it,” he told him. “Lucius never could meddle with people’s mind to save his life. It’s a gap he
never learned to cross”

“But it has to be him,” Draco said, desperate. “Who else would find an interest in taking my
memories of Regulus away if not him?”

“I am afraid I don’t possess the answer to that question”

“Severus I’m–“ he said, his tone growing desperate. He blinked quickly to conceal the
emotions shining in his eyes. “I just want to know Regulus the way he knows me. It’s not
fair. It’s like everyone knows things about me and I know nothing. I feel powerless all the
time and I feel like I’ve been betrayed, too. Those memories were mine. I want them back. I
feel…. Incomplete without them,” he said with frustration.

Severus looked at him coldly, his eyes merely reflecting his thoughts for once and Draco
thought something akin to pity clouded the darkness of his eyes.
“I may have a theory but first I need to ask you three questions”

“Three questions?” he frowned.

“Will you answer?” he arched an eyebrow.

“If that’s what it takes,” he nodded curtly. “I’ll do anything”

“That is a dangerous thing to say, Draco. You shouldn’t use such sentences lightly”

“Maybe I mean it,” he retorted.

Severus pursed his lips disapprovingly. One long look later, he spoke again. “Question one: is
there memories from your childhood you don’t remember or is it just Regulus you can’t
remember?”

“I can’t remember everything but I suppose it’s normal. I mean, I’ve got the average amount
of childhood memories like anyone else”

Severus hummed. “Do you think your memory was altered as to conceal Regulus’ presence
in your memories or do you think the memories have been completely erased?”

“I saw pictures and I saw some of Regulus’ memories,” he said while thinking about it. “I’d
say my memory was altered cause I remember some of them but Regulus never was part of
them”

Severus hummed again. “Last but not least. Can you dream of Regulus or not? Did it ever
happen before you met him at school?”

Draco frowned and thought hard but he had to admit he couldn’t remember ever dreaming of
the man. He shook his head. “No, it never happened”

Severus hummed again and he nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said before he walked passed him rigidly.

“Wait? Is it all? You’re not going to share your theory with me or something?”

“What good would it do? Theories are just theories until proven right. You needn’t worry
about this right now. Let me handle it,” he told him as he walked through the door. “Close the
door on your way out. I need to see Regulus”

Draco blinked before he stared at his godfather’s silhouette disappearing in the corridor. He
was dumbfounded. What was he supposed to do now? Wait on his arse for Severus to keep
his promise? That didn’t sit right with him but he didn’t have a choice.

At least Severus had agreed to help him. It could’ve been worse.

Draco was sitting around a big wooden table at the library, Pansy by his left side, Blaise on
his right. In front of him were sitting Crabbe and Goyle. They were eating candies under the
table so Mrs Pince wouldn’t have their heads for putting their sugared fingertips on her
precious books.

Draco was writing a long ass essay for his Charms class. Old Flitwick had asked his students
to theorise the transmutation of energy into the magic channelled through their wands.
According to him, it was the first step to learn how to cast wandless spells.

He’d mentioned they’d learn defensive charms during their DADA classes with Severus and
that his class was a preamble leading to more complicated spells. Draco took it very seriously
– especially because he was aware it might be useful to learn how to cast those spells
wandlessly when the war would break out for good.

He was not a fool. He knew he had to prepare himself the best he could. He was running out
of time, he knew it, and so he decided to put all his efforts into doing something useful and
train for the future. These days, since he was getting nowhere with the cabinet, he went to the
room of Requirement to train. He’d be probably more effective if his opponent wasn’t some
sentient wood statue but for lack of better alternative, it’d do. And it did.

Blaise was bouncing his leg under the table next to him and it caused Draco to pause a few
times to take a deep breath and breathe through the nose because it was fucking distracting.
Draco hated when his best friend got all fidgety. After the third break Draco took not to kick
him, he exploded.

“Will you fucking stop?” he snapped, sending him a glare.

“Sorry,” Blaise said, his head raised as though he was searching in the crowd for something.

Draco hadn’t noticed at first but it was obvious now and it made him frown. He turned to
look at him completely and he noticed he hadn’t even begun to write anything. Draco sighed.

“What’s got you all excited?” he whispered.

Blaise turned to look at him, finally focusing on him and Draco arched an eyebrow when he
noticed the lovey-dopey look on his best friend’s face.

“Remember that boy I crush on?” he asked.

“The one you decided to sign in potions for?” he asked, startled. Blaise nodded. “What about
him?”

“I finally grew a spine and asked him to be my Valentine,” he said.

“Oh,” Draco said, surprised. “Did he say yes?” he asked, his eyes brightening and shining
mischievously now.

Blaise winced. “Not exactly”

“Oh? His loss really,” he said comfortingly.

“He didn’t answer yet, actually. He’s not out,” he explained. “So he’s trying to keep a low
profile because his parents are conservative arseholes and he doesn’t want to get in a position
where he’d have to be disowned. He said he’d think about it though so it’s not a hard ‘no’,”
he smirked.

“I sympathise with that guy,” Draco said. “I hope you’ll get to be his Valentine, still. You
deserve to be happy,” he said.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “What about you by the way?”

Draco shut down instantly as he went back to his essay, pretending to be unbothered.

“What about me?”

“A little bird told me León asked you out,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Pansy gasped quietly next to him. “León’s gay?! Well shit. I’ve tried to get in his pants all
year!”

“I think he’s bi,” Draco said, unconcerned.

“Either way you wouldn’t stand a chance Pans,” Blaise said teasingly. “He’s too busy trying
to get in Draco’s pants”

“What a pity. He’s so gorgeous,” Pansy whined.

“He is!” Blaise agreed. Draco rolled his eyes but he had to bite his tongue not to agree with
them. “So? What did you say when he asked?” Blaise pressed eagerly.

“He didn’t ask,” Draco denied.

“What do you mean he didn’t?” Blaise frowned. “He told me he would ask you out. We spent
a hour or so rehearsing how he would do it!”

That surprised Draco more than it should have. Warmth spread through his body like wildfire
at the thought León put so much efforts into asking him out. But then, just as wild and
untamed the fire spread, it vanished vanquished by the ice cold feeling sinking in his guts. He
had turned him down so harshly. He didn’t even leave him the time to ask him anything
because he hadn’t wanted to hear it. He felt really bad about it. He shifted on his chair
awkwardly.

“It’s not for lack of trying,” Draco clarified, his tone still unbothered despite he was very
much bothered now. “He did try but I didn’t let him finish his sentence”

“Why?” Blaise shrieked, outraged. Everyone’s head spun to look at their table and Draco shot
them all a death glare. Mrs Pince shushed Blaise harshly, sending him the same kind of glare
Draco had shot everyone. “Sorry,” he whispered sheepishly before he refocused on Draco.
“But why on Earth wouldn’t you let him ask you out! You two have been eye-fucking each
other since September! You’re beating around the bush and it’s driving me insane!”
“Sorry about that Blaise but I wasn’t going to go out on a date with him just because you
can’t stand the sexual tension,” he replied dryly. “Deal with it just like I do”

“If I were you and I had to deal with it, it’d involve less clothes and more fucking but hey…
To each their own,” he raised his hands defensively.

“I can’t believe you turned him down,” Pansy said. “He seems like a great guy”

“He is,” Blaise and Draco confirmed at the same time before they smiled knowingly at each
other.

“If you think he’s hot, if the feelings are mutual and that you think he’s great then why did
you turn him down?”

“I don’t have the time to date,” he told them.

It was a half truth – the whole truth was too scary to admit aloud yet – but he thought it was
better than lying.

“You fucked with Willow regularly at the beginning of the year,” Blaise countered.

“Yeah and we all know how it ended,” he snorted bitterly. “Besides, the past tense here is
appropriate because we don’t anymore and not just because we had a bad fight. Things
evolved since the beginning of the year and I just don’t have the time for that anymore”

“But you meet with Potter every night,” Pansy objected, her tone devoid of that usual
jealousy Draco heard in her voice when they spoke of Potter.

“It’s not for the pleasure, just in case you forgot. In that case, I spent almost as much time
with León when we were working on the cabinet,” he told her.

Pansy pursed her lips and added nothing. Blaise gave him a sorry look and Draco knew his
friends were realising he was right. A pat on the hand later, Blaise was back to his essay and
Draco was too. It was only half-way through the essay that Draco noticed Crabbe and Goyle
had left their table already.

Damn. He was so selfish these days he didn’t even notice his friends anymore. He didn’t even
notice Nott didn’t join them.

The Great Hall was loudly erupting in chatters as the owls brought the post during dinner. It
was unusual but something big probably happened. Whatever it was, Draco didn’t feel at ease
when he noticed the faces people made. He watched confusedly as a thousand of newspapers
were dropped from the ceiling onto the tables, the pages flipping loudly as they hit the tables.

Draco perked up at the noise. Blaise stood up and grabbed his own copy before it could fall
in the food. Then, he sat down and Pansy, Draco and Blaise began to read the headlines
together, too curious to know what all the fuss was about. Ice dropped in Draco’s stomach for
the second time of the day as he read the words sending shivers down his spine.
“Sirius Black: The reign of terror of a slayed man coming to an end! Read more page 24”

Slayed.

Draco’s breath hitched and he felt like he was about to die. He tried to snatch the newspaper
from Blaise’s hands but he was shaking so hard, his heart pounding violently in his chest that
he felt like he was about to collapse. Consequently, he didn’t manage to take a hold of it.

“Open the newspaper at page 24!” Draco roared, his throat tight and dry in opposition to his
eyes, wide open and wet.

Blaise obeyed instantly, his face grave as he placed the newspaper between them, flat on the
table.

“Sirius Black has been spotted last night wandering in the streets of the capital around ten in
the evening. As soon as the news reached the minister, a few troops of the ministry was sent
there to capture the man alive,” he read the introduction but he felt like he was going to be
sick so instead, he read diagonally. Draco’s eyes were reading so fast he wasn’t
comprehending every words he read, only key words.

“[…] A bloody fight occurred in the neighbourhood of Soho”

He jumped a line or two.

“[…] spells were cast and flashes of green have said to be witnessed coming out of Black’s
wand”

He knew what they implied but he refused to believe Sirius would use the death curse against
the Aurors or anyone for the matter. He jumped more lines.

“[…] Auror managed to hit Black right square in the chest after more than twenty minutes of
fighting. Witnesses said they saw Black fleeing away from the scene, stumbling and badly
injured. The witnesses present to watch the scene unravelling confirmed the man was
bleeding alarmingly fast. “There was so much blood on the pavement,” one of them said in
the aftershock.

No one knows what happened to Sirius Black after he disappeared out of sight but it is an
easy guess to say he bled out and died somewhere in the street. The ministry is holding a beat
in order to find the macabre murderer’s corpse which hasn’t been discovered yet but should
soon be found.”

Draco reread the sentence at least three times. Why were they talking about a corpse?! It
made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to think of Sirius as a dead body. He didn’t
want to accept he might be dead. He felt like the world was collapsing beneath his feet.

Sirius was the first adult Draco managed to actually bound with. He felt safe with him and he
trusted him. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be. But twenty minutes of a fight was very
long, especially for someone who hadn’t fought in years like it was the case for Sirius. Sure,
he’d been involved in the battle of the ministry but he wasn’t on his own.
Still, Draco admired him a lot as he thought about it. Twenty minutes! Sirius had fought for
twenty minutes against professional soldiers, trained men to take him down! He’d hold his
ground fiercely and he hadn’t gone down once. Not until that finale blow which couldn’t be
the reason Sirius Black, a stubborn fuck, would die. Draco refused to believe it. He refused it
even when he read the next sentence.

“Until further notice, Sirius Black is presumably dead,” the article said and Draco felt like
tearing it apart.

Because Sirius wasn’t dead. That was just impossible.

“The witnesses all agreed upon saying Black looked like black smoke as he dodged the spells,
a death eater trait well known from our readers confirming his allegiance to He-Who-Must-
Not-Be-Named.”

After that, Draco completely stopped reading the article. He wasn’t interesting in hearing the
Daily Prophet staining the name of a man Draco admired and loved so much. Because he
loved him, didn’t he? He had so much affection for him. His heart clenched at the simple
thought of Sirius injured. He wouldn’t recover if he had actually died. There was no way.

Something suddenly came to his mind and he snapped his gaze up while Blaise and Pansy
kept reading. He searched for Harry in the crowd of pupils. He found him effortlessly as per
usual. He looked so confused and Draco’s heart ached at the sight. Everyone around him at
the Gryffindor’s table was reading the article but Harry. Draco watched as he finally got a
hold on the newspaper, too.

Granger tried to take it off his hands but he batted her off and Draco found it unbearably
painful to watch. He wanted to cast an incendio on that stupid newspaper so Harry wouldn’t
read the earth-shattering news. He felt the urge to protect him from the pain consuming his
own heart, causing his chest to burn and his stomach to hurt.

But when Draco took his wand out, it was already too late. He saw the exact moment he read
the headline. Harry’s face – which usually was so insufferably cheerful – fell abruptly, his
lips tugging downwards as though his face had melted like the wax of a burning candle.

From where he was, he saw Harry’s emeralds eyes turning brighter and darker at the same
time – brighter with tears, darker with grief and it was the most heartbreaking sight ever.
Draco’s heartstrings were pulled and twisted painfully. The sensation only worsened when
Harry searched for him in the crowd, too. Instantly, their eyes locked and Harry’s face
constricted in an expression of sheer heartbreak before he stood up from the bench he was
sitting on and he bolted out of the Great Hall.

Obviously, he wasn’t as optimistic about Sirius’ survival as Draco was.

“Shit,” he whispered and before he knew it, he was on his feet too, borrowing the same path
Harry had taken.

His friends said nothing as they watched him leave and he was grateful for that. In two
strides, he walked out the door and stepped into the corridor. Harry was almost at the end of
it, ready to turn and disappear out of sight. Draco did the only thing he could think of. He
closed the gap as much as possible while calling his name.

“Harry! Wait!” he said, his voice pleading.

He was standing in the middle of the corridor now, not too far from Harry when the latter
stopped walking right before he could take a turn. Draco waited for a reaction out of him, his
breathing stuck in his throat. He didn’t realise until now that he was scared shitless. Just
because he decided to be optimistic didn’t mean he was feeling alright.

He felt just as wrecked as Harry looked, except his emotions were like ghosts. Intangible but
desperately annoying the fuck out of him.

Harry turned around slowly with shaky limbs. He looked like he was about to collapse, his
knees all weak and wobbly. Draco had never seen him so shattered, so scared and so
vulnerable before. It was such an odd sight, seeing the Golden boy’s light looking so dimmed
and plain in comparison to his usual brightness. Draco swallowed harshly.

Harry’s face constricted in a terribly grimace. The tears that had been pooling at the corner of
his eyes earlier were now spilling freely on his cheekbones and down his chin, tickling down
and losing themselves in the collar of his robes. A wrecked sob escaped him when he opened
his mouth to speak and Draco felt his own eyes watering.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! His mind chanted.

Before he could do anything, Harry was closing the gap between them, his body crashing
hard against Draco’s as he threw his arms around him and buried his face in his chest, crying
in earnest, letting out the most sorrowing sounds Draco had ever heard. Harry was smaller
than him, he had always been, that was a fact Draco took great pleasure shoving to his face
but right now… Right now? Draco didn’t feel any bigger.

Stunned and unsure what to do next, Draco froze. He wasn’t one to comfort people. He didn’t
know how to do that but the excruciating pain crushing his bones within made it feel easier
somehow, like a gasp of fresh air. Like he needed the pain to act. Because if he hurt too, then
he knew what he’d like people to do to comfort him and so it was easier to do it for Harry
too.

Tentatively, Draco moved his arms and circled Harry’s shaking body. His movements were
hesitant, admittedly a bit awkward but it’s probably because it’s not every day Draco got to
hug his sworn-enemy-turned-friendly-acquaintance. He took a stop closer, flushing their
bodies together and he ducked his head, lost as how to approach the situation.

Instinctively, he buried his face in the nest of hair to hide his own tears as they were now
falling freely on his cheeks. His heart felt too big, too swelled up to contain the emotions
anymore as they spilled out of him. It hurt. And it was freeing somehow to be to so opened
about his own feelings. He wasn’t used to do that.

They remained like that for a while until Harry stopped crying, finally. Draco didn’t let go of
him though and Harry seemed to appreciate as he hugged him more tightly than before. Then,
when the situation started to get awkward, Draco gently pulled away.

“Let’s go to the Astronomy tower. Just because they said he was presumably dead doesn’t
mean he is. We have to reach someone. Anyone! Maybe your father or Remus? They must
know something”

Harry’s eyes widened suddenly at the mention of his father.

“Oh my God,” he said, a new wave of tears coming to his eyes.

“What?” Draco asked, confused.

“Regulus! He must be a mess right now!” he exclaimed.

Draco looked at him blankly and he swallowed again. “Yeah, probably,” he breathed. “You
should go check on him. Meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower, afterwards. I’ll wait for
you,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” Harry breathed before he wiped his tears. “I’ll see you later”

“See you,” he nodded.

When Draco followed the path leading him to the Astronomy tower, he felt his heart growing
heavy again and he decided to blame Harry for that one. Had he not cried so much, Draco
wouldn’t have been such a mess himself. But he couldn’t blame him. Not in such situation.

“Merlin, be okay,” he croaked when he reached the top of the tower, his head tilted back as
he was staring at the bright star in the sky.

Sirius blinked at him but couldn’t make a sound to reply and it made Draco cry again.
 Blaise's Birthday
Chapter Notes

Underage Drinking

Thursday 13th of February 1997

“I know I haven’t been the mother you deserve these past few weeks but here’s a little
something to make amends.

Go to this address on the fifteenth at three in the afternoon. It’s in Hogsmeade. The person
you’ll meet with will explain everything.

Mum,”

Draco reread that letter a thousand times since he received it in the morning. He even reread
it before he fell asleep.

He had no idea how he was supposed to go to Hogsmeade without looking suspicious since
he told everyone he wouldn’t go this weekend. He had to find something – and quick.

Friday 14th of February 1997

Draco woke up at dawn.

It wasn’t because of a nightmare nor because he was unable to sleep any longer – Merlin
knew how tired he was – but because today was a very special day and he wanted to be the
very first one to wish his best friend a happy birthday. He had been the first one each year for
as long as they knew each other and nothing – not even his extracurricular activities which
kept him up at night – would change that.

His brain was a bit foggy with exhaustion. He had been struggling to sleep lately, always
restless and thrashing in his bed because of the nightmares he had, his brain coming up with
graphic depictions of the articles he read about Sirius’ potential death. Three days later, no
one had seen the wizard again yet.

Harry and Draco’s meetings in the astronomy tower were no longer punctuated by nice,
comforting silence anymore. No. Harry was fidgety and just as restless as Draco was. Even
when they both sat down on the balcony, kept warm by polar robes as well as the warming
charm one of them cast, Harry’s foot was constantly twitching or jerking, moving from left to
right nervously like a clock. Unfortunately, his nervousness was transmitted onto Draco and
he found himself having spasms every now and then that he tried very hard to repress.

Silence never got the chance to settle down between them. Where Draco’s worries made him
grow quieter and forced him to withdraw inside, Harry went on full-rambling mode when he
was nervous. And he had a lot to say. He never shut up for a minute. Ironically, Draco
couldn’t even be mad at him because he preferred listening to Harry rambling about random
shit than staying in complete silence, dwelling over a situation he had no control over.

That’s how Draco came to know so much about India, about Granger’s favourite sweets or
Weasley’s bedroom in great details. He also learned about Harry’s childhood, his favourite
food, the way one was supposed to cook it and the ingredients it required. He knew the name
of Harry’s cat and he even knew that his snake had kicked the bucket over the summer – he
hadn’t been allowed to bring that thing to school after the end of their second year but
everyone remembered the snake.

Harry talked and talked for hours about different things. Draco found out a nerdy side of him
he didn’t know existed. Harry told him about his favourite magical creatures, he told him
about the muggle world and the different things he liked to do there. He also told him about
the different countries he visited while growing up, before coming to Hogwarts.

Harry also often talked a lot about his father and memories he had with Remus and Regulus
before Sirius escaped. He never talked about Sirius though. He was a sore topic for both of
them and so it was better not to bring him up in conversation as neither of them felt like
crying a river over his potential death. So Harry rambled and Draco listened attentively to
every bits of the other boy he was allowed to get.

Draco would’ve never thought it would be Sirius’ disappearance from the world that would
lead them to get to know each other – to know Harry, really, because it was barely if Draco
showed he acknowledged him at all so Harry still knew very little about him but still.

Last night had looked like that, too. Harry had barged in the tower unannounced as per usual
and he’d gone on full ramble mode until he fell asleep on the floor. Draco hadn’t dared to
wake him up because he knew Harry wasn’t sleeping enough these days but he’d covered
him with his polar robes and he’d left quietly after he decided he had been there long enough
and needed to sleep too. He knew it was gnawing Harry’s brain not knowing about his
godfather, not hearing from his father and his uncle.

Draco could only sympathise. Every single letters he’d sent Remus all were returned to him,
not even opened. That was scary as hell but there was just nothing they could do.

What he could do right now though was to wake up Blaise loudly and cheerfully as to
celebrate his birthday with him. Pansy had planned everything for tonight. The party would
be great, she’d invited every single one of his friends – even those who were not Slytherins,
yes he had those kind of friends too – and she had made sure everything would be decorated
in the common room when they’d come back after dinner tonight.
With that in mind, Draco decided it was his duty as Blaise’s best friend to make sure his day
would be fucking perfect. He shoved any thoughts of Sirius and Harry he had left in his head
to the back of his head and he grabbed Blaise’s curtains opened, ready to jump on him like
every year to wake him up. A grin plastered on his face, he stared dumbly at the mattress for
a minute too long as he realised Blaise was, in fact, not in his bed. He frowned.

Where the fuck was he?

Did he wake up earlier this morning and left before Draco could even wake him up himself?
No. His curtains were closed. Obviously, Blaise didn’t want anyone to know he’d left
therefore Draco supposed he didn’t even spend the night here. His frown deepened. Where
the fuck did he spend the night if not in their dorm? Was that how his friends felt when they
found Draco’s bed neatly made in the morning when he spent his nights in the Room of
Requirement? Fuck, it wasn’t a nice feeling.

He heard the door of the dorm clicking opened behind him and he turned around. Blaise
entered in silently on his tip-toes. His head ducked and his robes were carelessly thrown over
his forearm as he didn’t wear them. He was still wearing the same clothes as last night and he
looked very much dishevelled, love-bites on display along the length of his neck, his tie
loosened around his neck and his hair a real mess.

So that's where he was then? With his precious Gryffindor? Draco smirked.

When Blaise looked up, his eyes widened as they fell on Draco who was standing next to his
bed, his arms crossed on his chest and a knowing smile on his lips. Blaise flushed heavily as
he realised he was caught. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came and he
closed it. Draco arched an eyebrow, curious to know what kind of excuse he’d find to explain
that. Blaise just stared at him dumbly.

“Nice night?” he smirked slyly. “I guess that means your birthday is starting great!”

Blaise bit his lip and flushed even more which was fucking amusing to Draco.

“Shut up!” He replied with no venom. Draco chuckled.

A moment later, he moved to his bed where he dropped the robes he was carrying and he sat
at the end to take off his shoes. Then, he hopped himself backwards towards his pillow and
Draco climbed in his bed. He was definitely not letting him off the hook so easily. He wanted
to know everything. He closed the curtains and cast a silencing charm before he settled
properly by his side.

He was sitting on his knees, the tips of his toes planted in the mattress as he stared at Blaise,
waiting for him to spill. Blaise returned his gaze without faltering, his expression amused and
unbothered. Draco intensified his gaze and it took a whole minute before Blaise finally gave
in and groaned.

“Fine! Stop looking at me like that, it’s fucking creepy! What do you want to know?”
“Everything!” he grinned as he bounced on his knees to come closer. “Were you with your
Gryffindor?” he asked excitedly.

“He’s got a name you know,” he gave him an unimpressed.

“One you didn’t share,” he reminded him.

“Fair”

“So? Were you with him or not?”

“I was,” he nodded.

Draco let out an excited noise, happy for his friend.

“I take it he agreed to be your Valentine?”

“Oh, yes. He did! He sent me an owl during dinner last night and he asked that I meet with
him in one of the abandoned classroom of the fifth floor,” he explained. “He said he was tired
of pretending he didn’t feel that way about me and we kissed,” he smiled.

“You did more than just kissing what with the way your neck looks like,” he smirked.

Blaise brought a hand to his neck and he bit his lip.

“Yeah,” he chuckled breathlessly, happily.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” he sighed dreamily, a smile blooming on his lips Draco loved seeing him
like that. “But I…I think…”

And suddenly his tone wasn’t buzzing with happiness anymore. He sounded concerned as he
worried his bottom lip. Draco frowned.

“You regret it?”

“No, I wouldn’t say I regret it. It was so amazing Draco, I swear! But… I am worried we
went too fast and that he’s going to freak out,” he bit on his lips. “That’s what often happens
when they’re not out of the closet yet”

Draco made a noise, acknowledging him. Blaise sighed.

“Just last week it was barely if he could look at me in the eyes without feeling like everyone
would know what he was thinking of and then last night we…” he trailed and shook his head.
“I don’t know. I think I’m just worried”

“It makes sense that you’re scared but at the same time that dude chose you, didn’t he?”

“I am not sure I mean, sort of? But at the same time he’s scared about what would happen if
people find out”
“Oh yeah, because of his conservatives parents, right?”

Blaise nodded hesitantly before he pursed his lips.

“I– I kind of lied about that”

“Why?”

“Because Pansy was there and I didn’t want her to ask questions. Bigotry? She could
understand but fears? That’s just not something she cares about. She would’ve belittled him
for feeling this way and I didn’t want to hear her speaking ill of him,” he shrugged. “I am
comfortable talking about this with you but as much as I love Pans, she’s always been more
straightforward than you in matter of love”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “She sure is”

Blaise hummed.

“His parents are not conservatives, not exactly. Actually, they’re quite progressive and
they’re open-minded, at least for forty years old people but they didn’t react very well when
his brother came out and so he’s scared that they might react badly with him as well. It’s not
that they rejected his brother, it’s more like they’re treating him differently now they know
than the way they used to. And with me being a Slytherin on top of everything else, he’s
worried what they might think”

“So this is also about your house?” he asked surprised.

“I am not sure, I think this fear is a bit less funded than the others are but it scares him still
and I can’t do much to reassure him. I mean, my mother used my sexuality against me. I
know how fucking scary that is to show you bare to your family and hold out your quirk on
display. Because that’s how it’s seen you know? A quirk. When you don’t fit in the mould
they’re trying so hard to shape you for, you’re out of the boxes and suddenly it’s all they see”

Draco pursed his lips, upset. He had never thought about it like that but his past behaviour
had showed exactly what Blaise described and so he could only agree with him which meant
that would be all people would see when they’d look at him too if he ever dared to come out.
He didn’t want to think about it, it was too depressing and he had decided to be cheerful
today. He couldn’t worry about his sexuality right now. He did that enough as it was.

“I see. Well, maybe he doesn’t feel scared anymore. Or maybe he still does but he’s willing to
fight against his fears to be with you”

“You think so?”

“It’s a bloody Gryffindor we’re talking about. That’s all they constantly do,” he snorted and
Blaise huffed, amused. “And you know, to do what you did with him last night you have to
be two. I am sure if it had been too fast, he would’ve said so”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he allowed but he still looked unsure.

“Who initiated whatever happened between you two?”

“He did”

“There’s your answer then,” he said gently. “I don’t know him so I can’t say for certain but
what happened last night was a huge step for him if he’s never accepted his sexuality so
freely before. It meant something, it had to. I don’t think he would’ve wasted that first
experience with you if he hadn’t felt ready for it, if he didn’t think you were the right person.
Take it from someone who’s not out”

“Is that why you rejected León?” he asked softly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, startled.

He didn’t expect the topic to shift to his sorry excuse of a love life.

“I didn’t buy that poor excuse you gave us the other day at the library and, from what you
told me I can’t help but think maybe León isn’t the boy you want to risk everything for”

“I–“ he said before he closed his mouth.

The truth was that he had no idea how to answer that.

“Is it because of Potter?” he asked, his tone remaining gentle and never pushing for answers.

“Why would it be because of him?” he asked with a chuckle which sounded anything but
amused as he rubbed his neck nervously.

Why was he blushing all of a sudden?

“I don’t know if you noticed but you two are orbiting around each other. You’ve always been.
It’s like no matter what you do, your roads are meant to cross. You dream of him, you think
of him and he obsesses you. You even fucked a girl for a whole year because she looked like
him when you didn’t know yet you were gay,” he enumerated.

“Yeah okay, shut up. I got it,” he groaned as he put his head between his hands.

“So it is about Potter,” he smirked. “You like him?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his heart beating a thousand miles a hour. “I – he’s not as bad as
I thought he was and I think I like spending time with him at the top of the astronomy tower.
He makes me laugh sometimes and he’s kind, I can admit that much but… I can’t fucking
stand him, at the same time. And it’s like we can’t communicate properly”

“Why is that?”

“He’s a stubborn fuck and he always pushes my buttons. He tries to set me off and he likes it
when I get mad,” he deadpanned.
“You do the same to him, you know? It’s like you can’t help it, you’re always fighting with
each other. Everything between you is a competition,” he chuckled. “But maybe,” he
continued carefully, slowly. “Maybe this doesn’t have to be a competition. I mean… Not to
cross a line or anything but it’s pretty obvious how he feels about you even if he probably
doesn’t know. Just like it’s obvious you like him, too. At least, to someone who knows you as
well as I do”

“I don’t like him,” he denied.

At this point, it was more of a reflex than the truth because somewhere along the road, Draco
realised he started to appreciate him more than he hated him. Don’t get him wrong, hatred
was still there but it wasn’t as hot and consuming as it once was. Not after all those nights
spent together.

“Oh please,” Blaise scoffed. “Even Nott can tell. I didn’t understand at first but I think he
caught on it before any of us did. It’s so fucking obvious”

Draco pursed his lips. “So what? I’m supposed to just pretend like everything that happened
in the past didn’t? Like that fucker didn’t abandon me back in third year? Or that he’s made
my life a living-hell ever since we met? For what, Blaise? Even if what you say is true, which
to be very clear, is not, I couldn’t let go of everything that happened just because I’d like him.
Not over my dead body”

“Why?”

“Because he hurt me! Because he always gets what he wants and I have to content myself
with the crumbs all the fucking time,” he said. “Why would he always win, uh? Why can’t I
win, this time?”

“I told you it’s not a competition”

“It surely feels like one,” he replied moodily. “Harry is–“

“Harry uh?” he smirked. Draco glared at him but held his ground.

“Yes, Harry,” he replied with a huff. “Harry is a wanker, a soft one but a wanker still. I can’t
just go and talk to him, that’s not how our relationship works. We fight, we ignore each other,
sometimes we even hurt each other but we never fucking talk”

“Which is a problem”

“Not to me, no. Not if that’s what he wants so bad. Because it means I have the upper hand
on him this time. I get to choose whether or not to talk it out and I can just ignore my feelings
for as long as it is necessary”

“Would it be so bad if you let him win just this once? If that made you both happy?”

“Happy? You’re going a bit ahead of yourself,” he informed him. “I told you, I don’t like
him. Not like that”
“If you’d rather lie to yourself than admit the truth, I can’t help you,” he sighed.

“I’m not lying–“

“Yes, you are,” he retorted. “Because León is right there. He’s been supportive of you, you
actually like him and you can’t deny you have the hots for him. Yet something holds you
back from making a move and that something is Potter. It’s so fucking obvious it is. And
maybe you’re not ready to admit it and that’s fine. I just think it’s sad that you react like that
when it’s obvious you want to jump each other so bad”

“I don’t want to jump him that bad,” he rolled his eyes.

Blaise actually laughed at that. “Right. Remind me how many wet dreams you had involving
León? And how many with Potter starring in them?” he challenged.

Draco pursed his lips and looked away, refusing to admit he was right about that. He very
rarely dreamt of León in a sexual way despite he was indeed attracted to him. No. All his
horny dreams were always about Harry, even those which began with León. Each time he
reached the sexual part of the dream, it always happened to be with Harry.

All. The. Time.

That was driving him crazy.

“I understand,” Blaise. “It’s easier to pretend you don’t care about him than unpacking every
feelings you got for him–“

“Exactly, yes,” he deadpanned.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” Blaise said with frustration. Talking to Draco
sometimes felt like talking to a wall. “Everything could be sorted between you two if you
only talked about your feelings with him”

“Sure, I could find that old Buckbeak and let him ravaged my body under his hooves too,
what do you think?” he replied ironically. “Besides, I don’t know what you think you know
but there’s just no way he likes me this way. I’ve been horrible to him our whole life. He
doesn’t even care about me now we’re allies, he just cares about that damn school”

“Really?” he asked, unimpressed. “Do you think someone who wouldn’t care about you ask
me how you are doing while you recover in a hospital bed?” he deadpanned. Draco stared at
him, surprised. “Yes, Draco. Potter found me after you collapsed in the corridor and he asked
me to update him about your health when I’d hear from you.”

Draco couldn’t find anything to retort to counter Blaise’s argument. He didn’t know Harry
had approached his best friend while he was recovering in St Mungo’s but it surely came as a
surprise.

“That boy cares about you more than you give him credit for,” Blaise said sternly.

“That’s your safety I care about”

That’s what Harry had told him that day, looking heartbroken and desperate after he had tried
to warn Draco about the dark mark and they got into another fight. Draco hadn’t thought
much about it until now but he had to admit Harry really was going out of his way for him
ever since the beginning of the year.

He also remembered the small comments Sirius had let slipping out when he was drunk on
his birthday and the way he’d seemed so convinced Draco would be the right person to send
to talk to him after his mother came back, as though he knew something Draco didn’t.

His eyes were darting from a point to another as he thought about everything, every hints he
had pointing at Harry’s potential attraction to him. His ears were buzzing as the blood rushed
to his head and he felt a bit breathless because Draco was many things but he was not
oblivious. Not when everything pointed at it, at least.

“That boy is so in love with you that’s fucking painful to watch. He even ran into a column
once because he was too busy staring at you with that lovey-dopey expression on his face,”
he rolled his eyes, helpfully reminding this episode to Draco as well.

He couldn’t resolve himself to think it was true, though. He refused to think that Harry had
feelings for him. Because it’d mean the attraction was mutual and that the Golden boy
wanted to kiss him just as much as Draco wanted to.

That was unacceptable.

The stakes were too high. If they ever crossed that line consciously, then the world was
fucked because Draco wasn’t a good person and just like water extinguished fire, a kiss of his
lips and Harry’s beautiful, blinding light would dim and die. Draco would fuck it up, he
always did, and then Harry would be left vulnerable and heartbroken and then he’d be
completely useless to save the wizarding world and everyone would die because of him.

Because of Draco.

Because he would’ve been selfish enough to let that happen. He couldn’t, under no
circumstances, let that happen. So he’d shove all that newly acquired knowledge deep down
and he’d pretend like he’d never ever noticed Harry’s feelings. It was for the better.

“You two are like ice and fire,” Blaise continued when Draco didn’t reply. “That’s why
you’re always getting on each other’s nerves but you can’t exist without the other, hence why
you’re seeking for each other all the time. Because there’s no heat without coldness just like
there’s no coldness without heat,” he said calmly. “You kind of complete each other but in a
very explosive way”

And Draco wanted to retort that it was in fact possible since his body was both very hot and
very cold at the same time, showing that both could mix without problem and blend in as one
except that if he said that aloud, it'd only prove Blaise's point and he didn't feel ready to
accept that just yet.

Instead, he pursed his lips and looked away, unable to find anything to answer because he
knew deep down Blaise's words carried the unwanted truth Draco had been seeking for to
explain why he felt this way about Harry.

Now he had it, he wished he'd never found it for knowledge hurt more than ignorance, in this
case, and it was heartbreaking.

His classes went alright today.

Professor McGonagall taught them how to transfigure the composition of an object. For
instance, they changed the composition of water which went from liquid to gas in a twirl of
the wand. Draco wasn’t sure how that would ever be useful but he thought the spell was cool
and he had a great time watching the water boiling and returning to its original state. That
was great.

During Severus’ class, they began to work on wandless spells. It was nothing major, just easy
spells they could master quickly now they could cast wordless spells but Draco thought it’d
be incredibly useful so he paid close attention to the class. He was glad they were finally
done studying the fucking patronuses – which he couldn’t cast, still. He had a terrible grade
but he intended on improving soon. Maybe that new lesson was his chance.

After classes, Pansy sent everyone away from the common room to decorate it with Astoria
and her little sister, Daphné. Therefore, León, Blaise, Draco and Nott decided to go to the
library to get their homework done for the weekend. With the party tonight, they might just
not have the time to get work done – or they would be too hungover to do it. It was safer to
deal with this right now, while they still had the time to do it and that their brains actually
worked.

A quill in his hand, the tip dipping onto his parchment, Draco was trying to stay focused too
but it was hard. Almost impossible.

His brain was still stuck on the conversation he had had with Blaise that morning. When they
talked about it, Draco was almost convinced Harry liked him back but now, as he stared
ahead of him, he was starting to doubt it like a hell lot because Weaslette’s hand was resting
against Harry’s thigh as she leaned into his space all the while he explained something to her,
pointing at the book opened on the table before them.

Her face was so fucking close to his and one of her hand was resting on the backrest of
Harry’s chair. To an ill-advised gaze, her posture looked perfectly innocent. She just looked
like she was trying to take a look at the book and used Harry to steady herself but to Draco’s
murderous gaze, it looked like she was really close to get on his laps and jump him here and
there.

If that stupid conversation they had had was of any use, it was to show Draco what had been
right before his eyes all this time and he refused to see. Because right now, as Weaslette
leaned on a bit more and cocked her head innocently while looking at Harry with her big blue
eyes as though he’d hung the moon for her, Draco felt the urge to rip her to shreds, a pang of
possessiveness assaulting his chest and twisting his guts painfully, causing his jaw to clench
and his teeth to grind.
It took barely a second before be identified that emotion and his grip tightened around his
quill as he put a name on that treacherous feeling. He was feeling fucking jealous of
Weaslette of all people and that didn’t sit right with him. That drove him insane.

His lid twitched angrily and the pressure he applied around the quill became too much for it
to resist. It bent under the force of his grip and it cracked before ink was spilled all over the
table. Nott and Blaise rose to their feet so fast, throwing their chairs back and taking their
distance from the table as not to be drenched in ink. León, on his behalf, only cast a cleaning
charm.

“Fucking hell, Malfoy! Careful! I like that shirt,” Nott hissed as quietly as possible but it still
drew Harry’s attention onto their table meanwhile Draco was crossing his arms on his chest,
defensive.

“It looks like shit anyway,” he mumbled moodily with annoyance.

“Oi! Since I tell you I like it! The least you could do is apologise”

“Why are you pissing me off?” he barked. “I didn’t spill ink onto it”

“But you could’ve,” he glared at him.

“Nothing dramatic happened. Grow the fuck up!”

“Not thanks to you. I think it’s Delacour we should thank,” he bit back.

“Get lost, Nott,” he told him. “Sit the fuck down and finish that goddamn essay. Considering
how thick you are, this is going to take long enough as it is,” he mumbled.

“Fucking arsehole,” Nott spat as he sat down, looking pissed off but he resumed working on
his essay.

Draco averted his eyes from his friend and huffed. Harry met Draco’s annoyed gaze with his
soft irises and he gave him a small, barely perceivable smile. Draco stared blankly at him but
his insides felt warmer as he took great pride knowing Harry was smiling at him.

Him! Not Weaslette! Him!

He didn’t return the smile but Harry didn’t seem to mind as he turned around and resumed
teaching whatever he wanted to teach to the weasel-girl. Draco clicked his tongue in
annoyance and he looked away, he couldn’t stand the sight of them. His stomach chunked a
bit as he stared at the back of Weaslette’s head. Under the dim light of the library, her hair
looked a flaming glow and Draco felt angry with himself for noticing.

Of course they’d make a sweet fucking pair! To quote Blaise’s stupid words, Draco and
Harry were ice and fire. A girl whose hair literally looked like fire was a better match for
Harry than he would ever be. Maybe it was for the best, though. Draco knew from the start
that whatever he felt for Harry could never be more than a hidden secret he’d be ashamed of.
Something he could never act on.
As he kept staring at the back of her head, Draco felt himself feeling sadder and sadder – his
face remaining blank. He watched as Harry smiled at Weaslette with the most blinding smile
Draco had ever seen. He watched his green irises coming alive at the sight of Weaslette’s
happy face and he watched how touchy they were with each other. He watched them
whispering to each other, secretive and giggling. He watched as they looked fucking happy
together.

He couldn’t stomach it.

It wasn’t fair she could have what Draco craved for. It wasn’t fair he would never be able to
be at the receiving end of those blinding smiles and be touchy like that with him too. That
was alas the path he followed that prohibited him from that ethereal beauty and the
magnificence of the purest form of happiness.

His eyes locked on them, Draco felt extremely lonely all of a sudden. He wished he’d turn
her hair into snakes again but he knew that’d be completely uncalled for. Besides, it wouldn’t
change anything, either.

He was sentenced to stay on he sidelines. With Harry. With León. With everyone. Love was
made for a handful of people and he wasn’t one of them.

Clicking his tongue completely defeated, Draco looked down at his parchment and he
resumed working on it, using one of Nott’s quill as though they hadn’t been bickering a
moment ago. He forced himself not to look up again.

The party was nice.

Music was blasting through the speakers after silencing charms had been cast in the common
room as not to bother those who wanted to sleep and ensure it wouldn’t alarm the Aurors or
Filch that a clandestine party was currently happening in the dungeons.

People were dancing and having fun. All in all, it was great but Draco felt a bit moody
tonight after the events of the day.

His eyes didn’t leave Harry since he arrived. Pansy had invited him because of their new
friendship but Draco wanted to strangle her instead of thanking her. He had seen Harry way
too much since his talk with Blaise this morning and it was fucking painful because as much
as he wanted to deny it, he did have feelings for him.

He didn’t understand yet what they were but he could feel his heart swimming in a torment of
emotions each time their eyes locked – and locking they did a lot, that night. Harry was
constantly seeking for him, just like Blaise had said except now Draco realised he did that too
a lot.

That pissed him off. He felt so fucking miserable.

As he watched everyone dancing together, couples snuggling and people kissing in the room,
he felt so fucking lonely. His eyes found León a couple of times and he felt really bad at the
moment for turning him down on his offer. He liked him. He genuinely did but he didn’t
know if there was more than attraction to that feeling he had or if he actually liked him. And
he didn’t either if he was feeling this way because he couldn’t have Harry – which was
unfortunate but when was his life not?

His feelings were confusing and he was lost, tormented. He didn’t know what he was
supposed to understand. Everything was messy, his heart made no sense and he was honestly
losing it because as much as he wished he did, he didn’t understand his own feelings.

What did he feel for Harry, exactly? And what did he feel for León?

He didn’t know. He had no idea and that only made him more miserable because if he knew,
then it’d be easier to navigate through it all. Draco really wanted to spend time with León, he
really liked him and he was attracted to him, he knew that much. But was there more to it?
He couldn’t lead him on for nothing. He needed to sort everything in his head, first. In his
heart.

But then, as he stared at León who was standing in a corner of the room while drinking beers,
Draco felt the urge to go to talk to him. He looked so fucking marvellous tonight, wearing his
beautiful hair in a tight bun and those navy robes close to his body. His musculature was
highlighted by his clothes which fitted him so well. Draco couldn’t help but stare at the
movement of his throat with his swallow he took, the way his lips took shape around the neck
of the bottle he was downing. Draco’s breath hitched when León licked his lips to gather the
few drops of beer coating them.

The movement made Draco weak and he felt the urge to cross the room, grab him and kiss
him senseless. He had wanted to do that for so long. He didn’t know why he was fighting
with himself so hard to hold back. He enjoyed the boy’s company, he liked him very much
and he thought he was funny. He even liked that he was so caring and cunning and
devastatingly handsome. He loved the way he smelled, the way he flicked his hair when it got
in the way and he loved the way he made him feel.

Maybe that was all he should care about. Maybe it didn’t matter if he couldn’t understand
what he felt for him. Maybe feeling was all that mattered and that it had no explanation other
than that.

Harry couldn’t matter neither because Draco knew he was not an option. Never an option. He
shouldn’t ever bothering with thinking of him. León was right there and he made him feel
things. That was more than convenient; it was perfect.

Yes! Perfect! Because he was meant to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow to meet with someone
and León happened to have tried inviting him to go with him. Maybe León was the solution
to all of his issues – after all, the cabinet wouldn’t be fixed without his intervention.

The longer he stared at León and more he was convinced he was right. If he felt that strongly
about him then it meant what he thought he felt for Harry was nothing but a smokescreen
hiding deeper feelings, confusing things. Hatred, for example. Yes, he was confused. Because
he hated him and at the same time he didn’t and so he thought he felt more for him than he
actually did. Blaise also added to the confusion with the conversation they had.
Yes. That was the explanation.

So, as soon as León left the corner he was standing in to dance, Draco grabbed his wrist, not
letting him go and he pressed himself on his tip-toes to reach his ear in which he whispered
seductively.

“You look beautiful tonight”

León smiled and turned around slowly. Draco was happy they were standing in a lowlight
corner or else everyone would have noticed them. He had drunk a bit of beers but he wasn’t
drunk enough to think it didn’t matter if someone caught them.

“Do I?” he asked cheekily.

Draco brought a hand to his cheek and stroked it slowly, his eyes dangling all over his face as
he admired every features.

“So beautiful,” he breathed. “You’re otherworldly”

León chuckled softly. “Thank you”

“I regret the way we left things off”

“No, don’t. I’m sorry. I should be apologising. My reaction wasn’t the one I should have
had,” he said remorsefully.

“I didn’t even let you finish your question”

“I know. But it’s my fault. I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried to–“

Draco pressed his fingers onto his lips.

“Ask again,” he murmured near his lips, his eyes travelling between his lips and León’s blue
and purple eyes which widened softly at the request.

“What?”

“Ask again and let me surprise you with my answer”

“Are you drunk?” León checked.

Draco chuckled lowly and looked at him through his eyelashes, amused.

“I am not”

“Then what is this?” he asked warily as he snatched Draco’s wrist and took his hand away
from his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I tried to ask you on a date so many times since we met and you always turned me down,
one way or another. So I am wondering why all of a sudden you decided you wanted to date
me?”

Fair enough.

Draco decided to go with a half-truth.

“Because I’m constantly rejecting everyone and I don’t know why I reject you, in particular. I
don’t want to. I am scared but I also know I want you. And I’m done with this game we’ve
been playing. Our feelings are mutual. There’s no reason to let this drag longer than
necessary, don’t you think?”

León didn’t reply but he scrutinised Draco’s face slowly as though he was trying to find
something in his eyes.

“Alright… Draco Malfoy, will you do me the honour of being my date tomorrow when I’ll go
to Hogsmeade?” he asked with a smile.

He looked even more handsome when he smiled.

Damn, Draco was fucked.

“It would be my pleasure,” he smiled.

León’s face lighted up and Draco felt his stomach flipping at the sight.

However, when his eyes met the same green irises he’d been obsessing over, Draco’s
stomach fell and his smile faded as well. He suddenly felt like he had been turned into stone
under Harry’s hard gaze. It reminded Draco why he’d called him Medusa, all those years ago.
Harry’s frown was upsetting his soft features and Draco hated the sight. It made him sick to
his stomach but he also knew he was probably the reason for that frown, if what Blaise had
said was true.

Just like that, all the excitement he’d felt a moment ago vanished and he felt miserable again.
Not even the sight of León’s smiling face could change that. Feeling like shit, he turned down
León’s offer to go and dance with him and he walked back to the table where the beers were.
He opened one and he leaned against the wall while he sipped on it.

Around eleven in the evening, the room was starting to get less and less crowded.

Eventually, people stopped dancing and settled in different corners in small groups to talk
with each other. Draco was sitting alone. He’d decided to withdraw again, too overwhelmed
and confused to mix with everyone. He just wanted to go to bed, really, but he figured it
wouldn’t be nice to leave Blaise’s party so early. He was drinking another beer when Pansy
clapped her hand in the middle of the room, grasping everyone’s attention.

“Alright everyone! Let’s play spin the bottle! It’s Valentine’s day, after all. There’s no better
occasion to snog!” she said excitedly, clearly drunk too.
People cheered and Draco stared from where he was. He watched as everyone moved to join
her. Slowly, people gathered and sat in circle around her. León and Harry joined them too but
Draco decided he’d stay where he was. It was better this way.

He didn’t want to play whatever that game was anyway. Draco didn’t know what the fuck it
was and he didn’t care to find out. It was a muggle game and he thought it was stupid. He
genuinely didn’t know how that was entertaining to kiss random people just because a bottle
had told you to and so he outrightly refused to play – was that even a game? He highly
doubted it.

He took a long gulp of his fourth beer of the night, feeling a bit tipsy – but he definitely
needed it after the day he had had – and he kept leaning against the wall as he watched
random people kissing each other. Thus far, Harry only kissed Millicent but the game had just
started after all. The sight had made Draco so angry. He had felt the urge to throw his bottle
at the head of that girl – even though she had admittedly done nothing wrong – but all he did
was downing his beer and discarding it aside before he uncapped another one.

At some point during the night, Draco was completely drunk.

It turned out he wasn’t a funny drunk tonight like he’d been during Sirius’ birthday, nor was
he the touchy-kissing drunk he usually was. No. Alcohol only reinforced the sentiment of
solitude smothering him in a room full of people. He watched them one by one but found no
friendly faces except for his actual friends but they all looked so happy tonight meanwhile he
was feeling like shit. He couldn’t ruin their night. He wasn’t selfish enough.

Just because he wasn’t feeling in the mood for the party – why? He didn’t even know to be
honest. His mood soured and soured throughout the day, a bit like it did before a full moon
but he didn’t think it was that time of the month yet because he still hadn’t heard of Remus.
So he was moping around with no good motives to explain his behaviour, always watching
from the sideways without ever partaking in the game, without interacting with everyone.

His eyes kept going back from León to Harry and Harry’s kept coming back to his. He didn’t
know what Harry read in his eyes but tonight Draco wasn’t sure he could read the boy’s gaze
either. A few rounds of kisses and a few more beers later, Blaise decided this round would be
the last one, allowing everyone one last spin before they’d find another game to play.

“Draco?” Blaise called.

Draco, who was still staring at those green, hypnotising irises with such intensity snapped his
gaze to look at his best friend.

“You wanna play?” Blaise asked, slurring his words a bit but not much. He wasn’t half as
wasted as Draco was.

“I already said I didn’t,” he mumbled.

“Pretty please!” he said. “For my birthday? It’s the last round,” he said.
Draco groaned and took a long gulp of his beer before he put it down harshly and walked to
the circle. Pansy made some room for him and he sat next to her.

“Happy?” he asked grimly.

“Very,” Blaise grinned.

That did make him feel a bit better, honestly. Blaise was so fucking warm and his smiles were
even more so. He felt the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his own lips and he didn’t
feel like concealing it.

People spun the bottle and Draco waited patiently for his turn. Thankfully, the bottle never
once fell on him. However, he knew he’d have to kiss someone at some point because when
it’d be his turn to spin it, he wouldn’t escape it.

He watched as Nott kissed Astoria. Pansy ended up kissing León and León kissed Blaise.
Astoria kissed Harry and Harry kissed Nott which was fucking weird and Draco felt the urge
to murder both his future wife – gross – and his best friend. That wouldn’t be very polite
during his other best friend’s birthday party so he didn’t but that was tempting.

Then, it was his turn to play. His heart was pounding in his chest and he grabbed the bottle
hesitantly in the middle of the circle.

“Come on! Spin the bottle!” Pansy encouraged.

Ah, right! Spin the bottle, that’s how that stupid game was called.

When he didn’t, everyone encouraged him to and the ambiance was rather festive. It was like
Draco had just became the new attraction of the night and he felt very weird about that. He
tightened his grip around the bottle and he spun it with no certainty. He felt sweat rolling
down his temple as he stared at the bottle, waiting for it to land and seal his fate.

It spun.

It spun.

It spun again.

Draco’s heart was hammering at that point and he was close to spit it out of his mouth with
how hard it was beating. He just wanted the bottle to fucking stop spinning because staring at
it was beginning to make him sick, his own head spinning in time with the bottle because of
how intoxicated he was.

Finally, the bottle stopped and Draco’s breath hitched. Slowly he looked up to see who it had
landed on and he stopped breathing altogether, his eyes planted into two beautiful green orbs.
He swallowed harshly and schooled his expression into blankness. Even drunk he wouldn’t
show any weakness, he wouldn’t show how distraught that made him feel to look at Harry
knowing he was supposed to kiss him.
Everyone in the room held their breaths as Harry and Draco stared at each other’s eyes. It
was like the world was reduced to just them suddenly. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it
was because of the tension or the electricity sticking their eyes together but either way, Draco
couldn’t look away and neither could Harry.

He saw how Harry swallowed, the movement of his beautiful throat as his spit travelled past
his oesophagus. He saw the way he bit on his lip nervously and the soft flush spreading over
his cheeks. He was so fucking beautiful. Breathtaking. Maybe that was why Draco couldn’t
breathe? Because he’d sunk all the air of the room when he entered while looking so
beautiful.

Draco shouldn’t have drunk. He was regretting it immensely. He knew from Sirius’ birthday
party that Harry only looked prettier to his eyes when he’d drunk, alcohol couldn’t diminish
and tarnish his natural beauty. But he also knew he was freaking tempted to kiss him. And it
was dangerous that, right now, within the scope of that stupid game, he was allowed to.

He knew it would be hard to resist the urge to kiss him after wanting it for so long and he felt
the tug behind his navel, the same kind he felt when his feet left the floor when he
disapparated. He stared and stared and stared again, unable to set himself in motion.

It felt like forever before he snapped out of it when, in reality, his reaction was almost
immediate to everyone outside of the bubble they’d created for themselves – hence why he
felt like the world had reduced to those two beautiful orbs and nothing else.

Draco stood up aggressively, his nose wrinkled up in disgust as his gaze charged with anger
because despite he was dying to taste those lips, he knew they weren’t his to kiss. They
weren’t his to touch and it fucking drove him crazy. He shouldn’t even want that in first place
and that thought was enough to send him back into a spiral of self-loathing and profuse
hatred he directed at Potter because it was his fault if he felt so weird tonight. It was his fault
if he was overwhelmed and confused and lost and irritable. Potter just knew how to push his
buttons, he knew it. So Circe’s tits, why did he allowed him to play him like a doll tonight
again?

Fucking Potter.

“I knew that fucking game was so fucking stupid. I’m out!” he spat before he stormed out of
the room and ran downstairs to his bedroom.

The door rattled when he shoved it opened and it slammed after it hit the wall. Draco threw
himself on his bed and didn’t resurface until the next day, too upset and drunk to unpack
everything right now. He just needed to sleep. He’d be fine after that.

So much for being cheerful.

 Free Fall
Chapter Notes

CW Vomiting
Mention of self-harming

Saturday 15th of February 1997

“Do you ever dream of a different life? One in which waking up in the morning wouldn’t be
as excruciating as it is now?” Harry asked, his eyes locked on the stars above their heads.

There weren’t much of them, their lights dimmed by the clouds just like the flame usually
igniting Harry’s orbs was missing tonight. The green of his eyes looked duller, tamed.
Scarred. It wasn’t as bright and flamboyant as the one Draco knew him to carry, not as
burning as the sun now it set behind the horizon.

Draco glanced at him with worried eyes. Harry had been acting weird all night. After the
party ended, Harry had asked Blaise to ask Draco to join him at their usual spot. Draco had
been asleep by the time the party ended and so Blaise had to wake him up. Reluctantly, he’d
dragged himself out of bed but as soon as he had joined Harry, all the reluctance he’d felt
earlier left his body.

He had never seen Harry looking like that before. He looked particularly exhausted and the
words he spoke… They were highly concerning. He’d been saying weird things all night. An
alarm rang in Draco’s head, sensing danger. If Harry’s eyes shone tonight, it’d only be
because of the tears pooling in them.

“Constantly,” Draco replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the floor
beneath their feet, over the handrail. Harry hummed.

“I wonder what I’d see today, in the mirror of Erised,” he said quietly. Draco looked at him,
waiting expectantly that he continued. “I used to see my mother. Well, my fathers and my
mother, really. The four of us were there and we all looked very happy. Now my wish has
been granted, I wonder what I’d see nowadays. Probably something unreachable”

“Like what?” he asked, curious.

Harry didn’t answer for a while but then, he pursed his lips and sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said as he pulled away from the handrail. Draco’s eyes followed him and
he watched as Harry rubbed his face tiredly before he picked up the cloak he’d left on the
floor. “I should go to bed. It’s getting late,” he said.
Draco pulled away from the handrail and approached him. “Don’t go,” he said.

“Why?”

“You look like you could use the talk,” he shrugged.

The truth was that he wanted to smooth the lines of concern disfiguring his pretty face and
kill that sadness in his eyes. He hated when Harry looked defeated. He hated when he looked
sad and miserable. That made his heart clench all the time.

“There’s nothing to say,” Harry denied.

“Or maybe there’s so much you don’t know where to start”

Harry paused at that, his eyes meeting Draco’s. He bobbed his head once in recognition.

“Yeah, maybe”

“What’s bothering you so much?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You look like you’re about to collapse tonight,” he informed him.

Harry shook his head quickly and he swallowed hard before he transferred his gaze back to
Draco.

“It’s been almost a week,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.

Draco saw his eyes shining as the first tears appeared. He wanted to comfort him but it felt
like he couldn’t find the words, his own throat constricting around a hard swallow. He knew
what Harry was talking about. Sirius, of course. But there was just nothing he could say to
make him feel better about it. He took a steadying breath.

“You still haven’t heard of your father or Remus?”

Harry shook his head. “But Regulus is withholding information from me”

“He does that with everyone”

“Yeah, he’s like that. But I’d appreciate if he didn’t do that now. I mean, it’s Sirius we’re
talking about. I deserve to know if my Godfather is…” but he couldn’t resolve himself to say
the word. He didn’t need to. It hung in the air between them. Harry bit his lip and he tried to
stop himself from crying. “I’m so exhausted,” he sighed.

Draco stared at him helplessly. He wanted to lift a bit of the weight weighing on his shoulders
but he was collapsing under his own shit and he didn’t know what to do to make this better.
His eyes darted from a point to another as he tried to find the right words to speak.

“It makes sense. You’re allowed to be tired,” he said quietly.

“Is that how you feel, too?”

“How, you mean?”

“Like the world’s not spinning right. Like you’re being crushed under the weight of your
responsibilities. Like– like there’s no good answer but there’s a ton of bad ones,” a pause.
“Like you’ll never be happy again”

Draco’s eyes watered as he listened to him because everything he just said did sound a bit too
familiar to his liking. He blinked quickly and he nodded silently.

“Why?” Harry asked, his voice cracking. “Why does it have to be like that? I’m trying!” he
said forcefully, his voice quivering with frustration as he gritted his teeth. “Why isn’t it ever
enough? No matter what I do, there’s always more waiting for me. More suffering, more
murders and more steps before everything ends. I'm bathing in a world of violence and
nothing I do can change that. It's been written this way, I have no power over this. It’s only
escalating and I can’t do anything to stop that. People think I can but they’re wrong. I don’t
even know what I am doing half of the time!”

“Harry,” he breathed sadly.

“I really want to stop this war, Draco. I want to win it. I want to stop Voldemort so he
wouldn’t hurt anyone else. I want to do it for people like you and for people like Hermione.
For those who are being unfairly treated. I want to help people, I swear I do, but it’s like no
matter what I do people are still suffering around me. Werewolves are attacking muggles,
muggleborn families are targeted and attacked constantly now and there are those seers who
are disappearing across the country and everything is falling apart! I see it is and I can’t do
anything!”

“This isn’t your responsibility. Aurors are here for a reason,” he tried to reason.

“Really, Draco? How long before he takes the ministry again, like he did during the first war?
Who will protect the population if not me?” he asked, his eyes glistening.

“You’re not even legal,” he said. “It'd be pure madness to expect you to protect everyone.
That’s not your burden to carry”

“But everyone seems to think it’s my mission as the saviour. And– and I think I started to
think that too somewhere along the road and it makes me feel so useless to be there, in
Hogwarts. People are suffering while I’m learning about history at school and I’m– I’m…” a
tear rolled down his eye and he wiped it clean quickly. “And now Sirius is missing and
maybe even d– dead and it would be my fault,” his voice quivered and he began to sob, a
hand placed on his mouth to muffle it.

Draco grabbed his shoulders and forced their eyes to meet as Harry broke down. He felt how
shaky he was beneath his fingers.

“Harry, stop it,” he said firmly. “None of this is your fault. Not everything has to be about
you. You hear me? Voldemort put you in a position you don’t like, one’s that feels more like a
burden than anything else but you seem to forget that he was already being an evil prick even
before you and I were born, okay? His behaviour isn’t on you. You don’t control the things he
does but you control the ones you do”

Harry nodded and released a shaky breath. “But I–“

“No buts. None of this is your fault. As for Sirius, we still don’t know what happened to him,
okay? Until someone confirms he died, he’s fucking alive for all we know, okay? We’re not
going to trust old witches gossiping to the Daily Prophet of all newspapers that exist. We
know how they manipulate the truth. They love spectacular, they don’t care about the truth as
long as it entertains their readers. I think they exaggerated when they wrote that article,” he
said, forcing his voice not to quiver.

“You think so?” Harry asked, tears-stained face looking up at him hopefully.

“Of course!” he said, forcing his voice to sound more confident than he felt. “We would’ve
heard of Remus and your father by now if something terrible had happened. You said it
yourself. It’s been five days. If Sirius was dead, we would know by now, okay?”

He was convincing himself as he spoke and he was glad to see it seemed to convince Harry a
little bit too.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay? You believe me?” he checked.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Good,” he breathed before he pulled away.

“Can I hug you?” Harry asked timidly.

“That was a one time thing. That’s never going to happen again,” he deadpanned.

“Please?”

“No! Fuck off”

“But I’d really need a hug”

“Hug yourself, a fucking pillow or even your cloak for all I care but you’re never going to get
a hug from me”

Harry pouted and Draco felt his determination faltering. He groaned and opened his arms
awkwardly.

“Bloody hell, fine! You’re such a baby! I warn you Potter, you tell that to anyone and I’ll
deny it until I’m dead,” he said flatly.
It was worth it, just to see the way Harry was smiling blindly at him again. It was the first
time tonight that he smiled like that and it warmed Draco’s insides. He didn’t show it, though.
He rolled his eyes as the Gryffindor closed the gap and placed his head against his shoulder
while he closed his arms around Draco.

“Thank you,” Harry breathed.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled in his hair.

But he couldn’t help but tightening his arms around him while he smiled to the sky after he
readjusted his position. It was nice. Especially now they weren’t hugging in urgency like it
had been the case last time. His smile widened and he relaxed in his embrace.

Yeah, that was nice.

“Stop saying that! You’re not going to die!” Draco heard Parvati saying quite loudly on his
right.

He turned his head to see what was happening and he noticed Harry, Parvati and Lavender
were gathered together in the courtyard, waiting like everyone else to go to Hogsmeade.
When Harry saw him looking, he gave him a smile and a little wave. He was such a dork.
Draco glared at him, his face impassible and he rolled his eyes when he saw Harry finding his
reaction amusing. He stopped looking at them but he didn’t stop listening to their
conversation though.

He had nothing better to do anyway. He was waiting for León, his arms crossed over his chest
as he leaned against the statue of some wizards everyone forgot about nowadays.

“Since I tell you I am going to die!” Lavender insisted. “I dreamt of it and you know what
Professor Trelawney said about prophetic dreams,” she said.

“Maybe you shouldn’t listen to everything Trelawney has to say about that, though,” Harry
said now he refocused on the conversation rather than on Draco.

“She is an excellent teacher. You’re just too narrow-minded Harry. We already covered that,”
Lavender said.

“So what? You’re going to waste all your money because you had a dream? That’s stupid!”
Parvati said reasonably.

“I won’t need it where I go,” she shrugged.

“Why are you so casual about your death?” Harry frowned. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Why would I be? It’s part of the plan. I can’t go against fate,” she shrugged.

Parvati groaned. “This is so stupid!”

Draco couldn’t help but agree. He listened as the two other Gryffindors tried to convince
Lavender that she was wrong about that but nothing they said seemed to convince her. A few
moments later, they were joined by more Gryffindors and the conversation started all over
again. Out of the corner of the eye, he saw Weaslette approaching and his jaw clenched when
she leaned against Harry, using his shoulder to support herself, her head cocked aside as
though she was giving him a quick hug. It pissed Draco off.

Too riled up to handle it, he turned his back on them as to block the sight so he wouldn’t
explode right before his date in Hogsmeade because he was jealous of Weaslette of all
people. Jealous for someone who was not his date, at that. How fucking pathetic.

Draco felt stupid. He shouldn’t have asked León to come with him to Hogsmeade – or, more
accurately, he shouldn’t have asked him to ask him to go with him – that had been such a
stupid idea. He felt disgusted with himself. He knew he was leading him on. That was
honestly mean to play with his feelings that way but he didn’t mean to. He was a bit drunk
and angry and sad and he thought León would be the cure he needed except he couldn’t be.

He regretted the way he handled things with León. He liked him. He genuinely did, he knew
that much. But it was so different from the way he felt about Harry.

His feelings for him were all fire and consuming, anchored in the past, the present and the
future. Timeless. He got burnt multiple times through the years, his wings catching fire
because he dared to fly too close to him and yet he was always coming back for more. It was
intoxicating and maybe a little passionate as well – okay, a lot! They had hated each other
passionately for years and now they were bonding passionately over their shitty lives because
it was the only way they knew how to do things. With passion. Intensely.

No matter how much he liked León, it would never ever compare to how it felt with Harry.
Never. And that pissed him off, really. He truly wanted to feel this way about him. He wasn’t
blind. He knew León was the kind of person he needed, the kind he deserved. But he was not
the kind he wanted. Not really. Or, at the very least, he didn’t want him like he wanted Harry
and that was a problem.

Maybe if he did he wouldn’t feel the urge to murder Weaslette every now and then. He hated
seeing her so close to Harry. He always did. He gave her shit for that for years now, even
when he didn’t understand why he hated their proximity, their friendship. Now he did, the
sentiment was even more accentuated and he felt the urge to drown her in the closest fountain
because it felt like she was stealing Harry.

Except he wasn’t his. He would never be. He had no right to claim him, especially not after
everything he had done in the past and everything he’d do, in the future. So what if he didn’t
feel for León the things he felt for Harry? Did that mean that they couldn’t work? Perhaps not
or else it’d mean he would never be happy with anyone that wouldn’t be the bloody Chosen
One. Still, he was uncomfortable with it. It felt like he was using León – maybe because he
was – and that didn’t sit right with him.

Before he could dwell on the situation any longer, León appeared by his side and gave him a
warm smile which Draco returned effortlessly. It was just so easy to smile, to be happy
around him.
“Hello,” León greeted. “Hope you didn’t wait for too long. I was feeding the thestral you
saved the other day,” he explained.

“The one you saved, you mean. I didn’t do anything,” he reminded him.

“You spent the night with him in the forest. He wouldn’t have survived without you”

Draco rolled his eyes but he blushed lightly.

“That was the least I could do”

“You’re the sweetest. I knew there was more warmth under that cold demeanour than you let
out”

“Fuck off, I’m not sweet or soft or warm,” he denied.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

“So? What did you name him?” he asked after he shoved his hands in his pocket and kicked a
rock.

“I didn’t name him”

“Oh please,” he snorted. “You named the giant squid but you didn’t find a little name for
him?”

“Believe it or not, I didn’t. But if it matters so much to you, we could find him a name”

Draco snorted. “As if,” he clicked his tongue. “That’s your thing, not mine”

“But you’re the one who brought it up,” he arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah because it’s unusual for you not to name every stray you meet”

“What about Jack? You know, because he looks skeletal like Jack in that Halloween myth,
Jack O’Lantern?”

“Too morbid. Besides, that fucker deserved what happened to him,” he denied. “You’re not
going to name him like that”

“Any suggestions, then?”

“I told you, it’s not my thing. It’s yours”

León smirked but said nothing for a while.

“What about we name him Tom?”

“He’s a magical creature, not your estranged uncle”

León laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to find his name?”
“I’m starting to reconsider actually. We can’t have you naming him Salvador or any other
terrible name,” he snorted.

“I named him like that because of my favourite painter,” he said. Draco shot him a curious
look. “He’s a muggle, Spanish artist that I love. His art is fascinating. I think you’d love it, if
I showed you some paintings,” he smiled.

“Yeah, you could show me”

“Did you know the giant squid’s ink was used in the composition of the magical paint? That’s
why I thought it was fitting”

“That’s clever, I’ll give you that. But still, it’s a terrible name,” he said.

“Salvador loves it”

“He just wants you to keep feeding him,” he denied. “What about we pick a French name?
For the thestral I mean,” he added.

“Mmh,” he said as he thought about it. “Yeah, it’d be nice”

“We’ll have to think about it,” he nodded.

The conversation died shortly after that when Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick,
Professor Sprout and Severus joined everyone in the courtyard as to make sure everyone was
allowed to leave the castle. The trip to Hogsmeade wasn’t a very long one and as soon as they
reached the small wizarding village, everyone parted ways after agreeing to meet on the
central square, in front of the statue of a chimera.

León and Draco made their way towards the first shop. It was just a clothes shop but León
wanted to go inside to buy himself a new jacket. Draco followed, his hands shoved in his
pockets to hide the way he was sweating. He was both nervous about the date, which had
now begun, and the fact he’d have to find a moment to sneak away from León to join
whoever he was meant to join at three in the afternoon.

In the shop, Draco looked at the different clothes on display but there was nothing that really
caught his eye. When he turned around, León was already gone. He was probably trying on
the different jackets he was eyeing through the vitrine when they approached the shop earlier.
Draco walked to the fitting rooms which were located at the back of the shop and he poked
his head. There were multiple cabins aligned, all closed by a curtain.

“León, are you there?” he asked.

“In there!” he heard him reply somewhere at the back. He walked until he reached the last
cabin.

"I think it's not a clothes shop but a costume shop"

At the same time, León snatched the curtain open and he grinned. Draco couldn’t help but
burst into laughter as he watched the bright pink jacket – the other half was black – he was
wearing, rhinestones scattered all over the shoulders.

“I look hot, don’t I?” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, a eat-shitting grin plastered on his
face.

Draco shook his head. “If by hot you mean ridiculous, then yeah. You do. You look like a
fucking cowboy,” he laughed.

“Yeah but a very hot one,” he winked.

Draco chuckled. “Pick something else. That doesn’t match your complexion anyway”

“You’re just jealous cause I slay in that outfit and you wouldn’t,” he replied playfully.

Draco rolled his tongue along his teeth as he shot him a look full of disbelief.

“You think I am jealous of… that?” he asked rudely as he gestured to the jacket.

“You know you wouldn’t look as sexy as I do if you tried to dress like a cowboy, is all,” he
shrugged casually.

“Is that a challenge, Delacour?” he asked, amused.

“Maybe”

“Fine,” he said, determined. “I’ll be the hottest cowboy you've ever seen and I’ll rock that
look. You don’t know it yet but you already lost”

“Do I?” he grinned. “We’ll see about that”

Draco shook his head and walked back to the shop. He gathered as many articles as he could
find which would match the cowboy style and he entered in a cabin. He pulled on the curtain
to shut it and he began to undress.

“I found clothes that’ll prove you I was right!” he warned as he began to dress up.

“Can’t wait to see,” León chuckled.

“Did you even pick other clothes?”

“Nope! That outfit was all I had to submit,” he laughed.

“You definitely lost, then!” he said as he adjusted the fringed jacket he’d found.

He checked himself in the mirror. He twisted on himself to check his arse and the way the
trousers hugged his thighs. Satisfied, he gave himself a smirk and he tucked the hat on his
head. He knew he could pull any outfit but he had never thought that one could turn out
incredible on him. He was wrong. He looked fuckable in that outfit. He almost laughed as he
realised he felt confident while wearing such ridiculous clothes. It was so far from his usual
standard. Maybe that was why he felt good in them? Maybe.
“Are you done?” León asked. He was now on the other side of the curtain.

“Yes, come in,” he said. He pulled on the top he’d found to smooth the fabric and then he
turned around, confident. “So, what do you say?” he smirked.

Draco was wearing black and white leather trousers which were holed on the side, leaving a
small part of his thighs on display. There were big, white stars scattered on the bottom of the
legs. The fringed jacket he’d chosen was sleeveless, the colours matching the trousers. There
was a big, white star on his chest meanwhile the tassels were just as black as the jacket, stains
of white scattered here and there. To magnificent the outfit, he’d picked a see-through black
top which wasn’t hanging past his navel, leaving it on display while a black harness hugged
his muscles tightly and highlighted his thin waist.

“I– I–“ León blinked dumbly, his eye turning a beautiful shade of misty rose, clashing
beautifully with the arctic blue of his other eye. He cleared his voice. “I’m not sure cowboys
wore leather,” he said as he nodded to his trousers.

“Are you sure?” he said innocently. “I’m pretty sure they killed cows and used the skin,
didn’t they?”

“I freaking don’t know,” he chuckled. “Maybe. Still, they surely didn’t look…”

“Hot?” he smirked devilishly.

León chuckled. “That’s one way to say it”

“How would you say it then?” he challenged seductively.

Draco could hear his heart beating with how close they were standing. León’s heart surely
was beating fast as he bit on his lip.

“I don’t know but you look marvellous”

“That I do,” he smirked.

“Don’t look too smug,” he chuckled.

“I can look as smug as I please cause I look freaking hot in this outfit. Have you seen how
those trousers fit me?! I look great”

“You do,” he smiled.

“Thank fuck for leather!” he chuckled.

“I really need to check when we’ll go back to the castle whether or not they wore leather. If
they did, then it’s not fair how beautiful it makes you look!”

“I know for sure that they did. For one, it helped protecting their legs from the vegetation and
it was sticking to a leather saddle better than any other fabric so it protected them better,” he
said.
“You’re so sexy when you say smart things,” León whispered near his lips after he pulled
him closer by the waist, a flirtatious smile on the lips that caused Draco’s heart to miss a
couple of beats.

“So… I think I won, don’t you?” he smirked.

“Did you? I very much feel like I’m the winner, there,” he said, his eyes intense and
seductive as he looked at his lips.

Draco’s smile faded slowly, a hand placed on León’s chest as he watched him leaning on. As
he stared into his eyes – which by the way was turning an intense shade of purple now –
Draco forgot what all his doubts were about. They vanished abruptly and, for the first time in
forever, he was sure that he wanted this. He wanted to kiss him. He was happy being here,
with him. The way his heart stuttered when León brushed his lips against his was the
confirmation he needed.

He planted his silver eyes into León’s, searching for something and he gathered the courage
he needed to act on his desires, for once. He brought a hand to the nape of his neck and he
pulled him to his lips. The effect was immediate. His eyes fluttered and he shut them tightly
as their lips moved together in the softest kiss he had ever received. León was gentle, even in
the way he was holding him. It was almost protective, somehow. Draco felt really good. He
loved the swarm of bees emerging in his stomach at the contact of his lips on his. He felt like
he was levitating.

The kiss remained chaste and slow all along. It felt extraordinary. He sighed contently against
him as he deepened the kiss. His free hand moved to his neck and he circled it with both
hands as León wrapped his arms around his body, one of his hand resting at the top of his
back, right between his shoulder blades as the other was left loosely around his waist.

They pulled away after a little while and they laughed breathlessly. Draco ducked his head to
hide the flush on his cheeks. León rested his forehead against his, giving him a blinding smile
as he stroked his waist gently.

“You’re okay?” he checked kindly.

Draco laughed airily. He had never been happier. His smile truly reached his eyes when he
looked at him and nodded.

“Yes. I’m okay,” he grinned.

“Good. I’m glad”

“Me too,” he bit on his lip. “Are you okay too?”

“More than,” he replied with a small laugh. “Would you like to share an ice cream with me to
celebrate that?” he offered.

Draco took his hand in his and laced their fingers.

“It’d be a true honour,” he replied.

León’s face only lighted up further more.

“But first we need to get out of those clothes, cowboy,” León joked. Draco laughed.

“Right!”

When Draco left the cabin, he pressed his fingers to his lips and he smiled like an idiot as he
walked to a free cabin. He pulled the curtain closed and he undressed. His smile never
faltered once.

They were sitting inside of a coffee shop as they ate their ice cream.

They had only one pot for two, digging their spoons in each side of the pot as they sat in front
of each other. They were laughing as they talked. They discussed about different things but
now, they were circling back to the thestral.

“You know, now you made him trust you, maybe the well would grant you one of your
wishes,” León said casually.

“The well? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know about that?” he asked startled. Draco gave him a look and he chuckled.
“Yeah, okay. You wouldn’t ask if you did, got it”

“You read me so well,” he ironised with a smirk. León chuckled. “So? What is it about?”

“Luna told me that story when we started hanging out together,” he explained.

“And what does the story say?”

“According to what she told me, there’s a well in the southern aisle of the school which can
grant your wishes if one of the four creatures crafted in the well trust you,” he said.

“Of course, something like that could only come from Lovegood,” he said with an eye roll.

“I saw it,” León said. “She showed it to me one day”

“That doesn’t mean it works,” he pointed out.

“But who knows? Maybe it does. And if it’s true then… Maybe you could make a wish”

“I have nothing to wish for,” he shrugged. León gave him a pitiful look which Draco
pretended he didn’t see and he refocused on the ice cream. “Speaking of the thestral… Any
suggestions for his name?”

“I think Sinistre would be–“

“Sinister?! Not over my dead body,” he deadpanned.

“Why can’t we call him Sinistre? It’s a good name!” León said.

“No, no, no! Absolutely not!” Draco shook his head exaggeratedly as he shoved the spoon
into the pot to gather vanilla ice cream on it before he shoved it into his mouth. “He deserves
better than that, don’t you think?” he asked.

“But it’s a cool name!” León objected.

“My thestral is not sinister, there’s no way we’re calling him that,” he said.

“Your thestral, uh?”

“I kept him warm all night long. He’s mine now,” he decided because it was too late to take it
back. León laughed.

“I’ll hold it against you”

“You better not, Delacour!” he said, shaking his spoon to his face. “What about Crépuscule?
It’s a great name, don’t you think?”

“It sounds like a disease plus it’s too long,” León waved off.

“A disease?!” he shrieked. “That’s a cool name! Besides, you think Crepuscule is too long
but Salvador is fine?!”

“Salvador is an appropriate name for a squid,” he argued.

“Says who?”

“Me!”

“I vote for Crépuscule,” he said stubbornly.

“Oh, come on! You’re taking the piss, right?”

“I am not,” he shook his head.

“Okay but then let’s use the English word instead. It’s shorter”

“Twilight?” Draco tasted the word on his tongue as he tried to decide. “Mmh. It sounds good
but we said we’d pick a French name,” he pouted.

“But Twilight is fitting,” he shrugged.

“Wait. Why would you have the last word, there?” Draco narrowed his eyes.

“Why would you?” he countered.

“I thought I was supposed to pick the name,” he crossed his arms on his chest.

“No, I said we’d name it together because you said multiple times that it was my thing”
“To hell with that,” he rolled his eyes. “I want to name him Crépuscule”

“But Twilight is prettier! And shorter, too!”

“I don’t want prettier, I want Crépuscule,” he shook his head.

“You’re so stubborn,” León groaned.

“That’s an argument you can’t win,” he smirked.

“Fine!” he raised his hands in surrender. “You know what? I’m going to the loo and then,
when I come back, we’ll discuss about this in great details and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong
about this”

“What if I tell you why you’re wrong about it, instead?” he said, his eyes following León as
he circled the table to go to the loo.

“Fat chance you succeed! I know I’m right,” he winked.

Before he could answer, León walked away and Draco watched him leave. A small chuckle
escaped him and he leaned over the table to take a sip of the Fairy Cherry drink he’d ordered.
His lips closed around the straw and he sucked. He felt very satisfied when he swallowed the
liquid, his body singing happily as he felt the rush of sugar coursing through his veins.

Draco almost forgot why he had agreed to come to Hogsmeade for in first place and he felt
his mood shifting suddenly as his eyes found the clock on the wall. It was almost three. If he
didn’t leave now, then he would be late. He glanced around the coffee shop expectantly. He
wanted León to come back from the toilet so he could find an excuse and leave. Alas, the
minutes passed and León didn’t come back yet Draco was running out of time and so he did
the only thing he could think of: he left without saying anything.

He hoped León wouldn’t be too mad at him for leaving so abruptly but he really couldn’t
wait any longer. He had almost missed the meeting already. He got up from his chair and he
put his robes on before he exited the shop, leaving León behind.

Hogsmeade was buzzing with life this afternoon. Everywhere he looked, his eyes found
students and he realised it was going to be hard to sneak in the streets without being seen in
those conditions. Luckily, most of his schoolmates were probably sitting around a butterbeer
in The Three Broomsticks so he shouldn’t meet with them on his way to the Hog’s Head.

He hated having to go there right now. He was having a good afternoon, far away from all the
issues that made him anxious all day. He wished it could’ve lasted a little longer but it wasn’t
like he had the choice. He was awaited somewhere else. He grabbed the hood of his robes
and he put it on as he walked across the alleys.

When he entered in the pub, what he saw was definitely not what he expected to find. Sitting
at a table, Bellatrix took off the hood covering her wild curls and she gestured to the seat in
front of her. On the table, Draco saw a box standing between the two of them. When he
uncapped the lid, he felt his heart stopping.
Onyx stared right back at him and he felt like he was about to be swallowed by the darkness
as his aunt smirked at him. His stomach churned at the sight of the necklace and he looked at
Bellatrix in confusion, though he did know what he was expected to do with this.

He didn’t think he could do it.

“I believe you know what to do but in case you don’t… Let me explain,” she said.

It turned out that he could. Or not really but almost. Sort of.

Draco didn’t come back to his dorm until late after dinner. He didn’t eat that night, too busy
throwing up in the toilets of the second floor, crying his eyes out in the sole company of
Moaning Myrtle. He felt dirty and guilty, his chest hurting so bad. He regretted everything.

He regretted giving the necklace to Katie Bell. He’d regretted it as soon as he had given her,
in the toilets of the Three Broomsticks after he used that disgusting spell on her but he
couldn’t take it back. He’d tried to. Merlin, he did try! But he couldn’t.

By the time he finally caught up on her, Harry, Granger and Weasley were walking right
behind her and Draco couldn’t intervene without giving himself away. So he stayed there,
hidden behind a tree like a coward, and he watched as Katie touched the necklace and almost
died because of him.

Hours later, she was still unconscious and she’d even been sent to St Mungo’s.

Draco couldn’t go to the Great Hall knowing what he’d done. He couldn’t face everyone, he
was sure guilt was showing on his face and he couldn’t stomach the sight of Harry’s bright
eyes. Not after what he’d done to one of his friends.

Oh Merlin, Harry… He would hate him so much as soon as he’d realise what had happened.
Draco just ruined all the progress they made, didn’t he? He ruined his chances to survive this
war. He’d sentenced himself to the torment saved for people of his kind.

And so he cried, and cried and cried again.

He cried for hours in the toilets. Moaning Myrtle had been awfully quiet as she watched him
crying but he was a bit thankful about that though he supposed he deserved to be tormented
by the ghost for what he’d done. He deserved all the punishments in the world. He disgusted
himself. He scratched his skin so fucking hard, leaving it raw and burning under the hot water
as he tried to wash the sin off his skin but he couldn’t.

He had almost killed someone!

He didn’t mean to go to her toilets, to be perfectly honest. He’d just needed a place where no
one would find him and he’d felt the urge to wash himself after what happened. It seemed
like the perfect place at the time. He’d wanted to disappear from the world, choking on his
sobs and feeling utterly miserable.
It’d taken hours before he’d managed to gather his shit and stopped crying. Now, he was
heading towards the dorm, ready to drop dead on his bed and never resurface. He needed to
sleep. He was drained and miserable. He wanted the day to end.

It was Saturday night so he knew Nott wouldn’t be in the dorm. He spent his Saturday night
with Daphné, Pansy and Astoria in the greenhouse to smoke and play games. Blaise, on his
behalf, might be gone too. If Draco was lucky, he’d be off to snog with his Gryffindor and so
he could avoid all the questions his disappearance would bring up. Then, León surely
wouldn’t be in the dorm because he’d heard him making plans with Willow and Luna for
tonight so the dorm should be empty when he’d open the door.

Except that, when he finally entered in the dorm and closed the door quietly behind him, his
eyes red-rimmed and swollen, he was very much not alone.

“What happened?” León asked coldly as soon as he entered. “Finally found your way back to
the castle?”

Draco startled and his eyes found him sitting on his bed. However, he didn’t stay on his bed
for long as he got up. He stared at Draco coldly, his face hard as he waited. Draco tried to
meet his eyes but he didn’t find the comforting sight of purple he usually found there.
Instead, there was an angry red staring at him and he felt small. His throat tightened again.
He needed comfort, not confrontation right now.

Though he supposed he didn’t deserve it neither.

Blaise looked up from his bed where he was doing his homework. He looked at Draco and
then at León. He must have felt the tension because he sat up on his knees and he gathered all
his stuff quickly before he shoved them in his bag and he swung it over his shoulder.

“I’ll be in the common room if you look for me,” he said quietly as he walked across them
awkwardly.

The door clicked behind him and Draco stared at it even after he was gone. He wanted Blaise
to come back. It would’ve been easier to handle if he had been there. He knew León would
be hurt because of earlier – though he had to rack his brain for a second to remember what
he’d done to piss him off because their date felt like a lifetime ago now – but he didn’t expect
anger. That was too unusual on his features.

“You’ve got nothing to say?” León pressed, obviously getting riled up as Draco said nothing.
“I fucking can’t believe it. Is it the kiss? Did it freak you out?” he asked, his voice quivering
between anger and something else. He sounded like he was trying to understand. Sweet,
sweet León. He was too good for this world. “I know you’re not quite there yet but you
kissed me! You’re the one who–“ he pursed his lips and took a calming breath as he heard
himself raising his voice.

Draco stared at him dumbly. León never rose his voice until now. It felt weird to hear him
doing it now. He swallowed as fresh tears threatened to pool in his eyes.
“I’m not saying you owed me something, Draco! But the least you could’ve done was being
honest to me! I didn’t force you to go on a date with me! You literally asked me!” he pointed
out. Draco couldn’t find his words. Everything died in his throat. “Putain mais–!” he caught
himself swiftly as he realised he’d switched to French when he exploded. “Say something for
fuck’s sake!” he shouted.

“I–“ he opened his mouth but he couldn’t find anything to say. He felt so empty.

“Was it too soon? Did you feel pressured? What happened Draco? We were having a good
time and I left you for five fucking minutes and when I came back you were not there
anymore. You didn’t even come back with everyone else to the castle! So what the fuck
happened?!”

“I… I don’t know what to tell you honestly,” he said, his voice small. He looked at his feet,
his eyes stung too much to look at him without crying.

He was taken aback by the anger he read on León’s features and he was tired after the day he
had had. He felt like shit, he didn’t want to argue with someone right now. He just wanted to
sleep and forget about the disaster his day was. He could barely find his voice.

“You don’t know what to tell me…” León repeated, hurt. “Well I know what to tell you,” he
said more firmly, his features hardening at eye sight. “I am done with your shit, for real. You
don’t know what you want and you’re obviously not ready for anything serious. I am done
running after you. I have been more than patient with you but I feel dirty right now. I feel… I
don’t know, used? It feels like I was the perfect toy for you to experiment with except I am
not in for shit like that. That’s not my thing, so find yourself someone else to hold your hand
on your self-discovery journey because it won’t be me. It could’ve been but I can’t. Not in
those conditions,” he shook his head.

“León,” he said, pleading. His voice cracked, a quiet sob escaping him.

“I really like you,” León said with sadness. “And it’s fine if you don’t feel that. It’s more than
fine. But you should’ve told me. You shouldn’t have played with me like that. This is over.
From now on, we’re just friends and that’ll be it. But for now, I need to take my distance
from you for a while,” he said.

Red turned into a deep blue as tears pooled in his eyes. Draco hated being able to read his
gaze despite he’d wished he would be able to, someday. He didn’t like the things he saw right
now.

“Wait I–“ he tried wetly.

He didn’t even realise his own tears had already spilled.

“C’est terminé,” he said before he turned on his heels and walked out of the dorm.

“León!” he called.
But León walked away and Draco started to cry in earnest as the door clicked. He felt his
heart breaking in his chest and it hurt to watch him walk out the door without being able to
say anything. He ended up sobbing on the floor, tears spilling alarmingly fast out of his eyes.
A few minutes later, the door opened and he looked up, hopeful to find León but it was only
Blaise.

“I thought you’d need the company,” he said quietly.

Draco sobbed harder as he sprang to his feet and ran to him. His body crashed against
Blaise’s and his best friend instantly wrapped his arms around him as Draco choked on his
sobs. At this point he wasn’t sure whether he was still crying about León or about everything
that happened today. About Katie Bell, really.

“I fucked up,” he cried hard.

And he couldn’t tell what he was talking about neither.

“I know,” Blaise whispered as he hugged him tightly.

And maybe Blaise too didn’t know whether he talked about Katie or León
 The Forgotten

Saturday 22nd of February 1997

It had been a week since he last saw León.

True to his words, León had kept his distance from him, solely returning to the dorm to sleep
and spending all his meals at the Ravenclaw table with Luna rather than sitting with his
friends in Slytherin. It wasn’t very useful considering Draco wasn’t eating anymore, guilt
killing him softly for what he’d done to Katie Bell.

No one really knew what happened between them – bar from Blaise but only because Draco
had cried about it for hours and kept telling him about it even days after it happened – but
everyone knew something had happened. It was so obvious because they behaviour changed
radically. They didn’t interact together, for one.

León wouldn’t meet his eyes in the corridor when they crossed ways, he wouldn’t talk to him
neither and, more importantly, he’d leave their group of friends when he chatted with them
every time Draco came closer. All in all, he was avoiding him and he did a poor job at hiding
it. Quickly, rumours began to spread as to explain why they stopped hanging out together
after all the time they publicly spent together.

It was sickening Draco. Why couldn’t they just mind their own business? What had happened
wasn’t meant for everyone to find out.

Some said Draco felt threatened by him because he was a Veela and so he was taking Draco’s
spot or some shit – the rumour of Draco being a Veela didn’t die, not even after all this time.
It turns out having a real Veela in the castle did nothing to help people to see Draco was, in
fact, nothing but a normal wizard – except maybe that he turned once a month but people
didn’t need to know that.

Some people were creative and mentioned a potential betrayal – the blame being put equally
on both Draco and León depending on who told the story – and he even heard some people
speculating about the possibility that León stole Draco’s girlfriend – as if he was interested in
girls in first place. Even if he were, Draco had never dated anyone before. There was literally
no way this could be a plausible theory and yet people believed it. Some even thought the
said girlfriend was Pansy, offering an explanation for the moment they spent apart.

People talked and they did that a lot. Too much in his opinion. He certainly didn’t want
strangers to speculate about the reasons of their quarrel. It was private and he highly doubted
anyone could even guess what truly happened between them. At least, he hoped they
wouldn’t. The truth was more humiliating than anything they could have imagined – except
for that one theory which disgusted Draco wholeheartedly. Indeed, someone had said León
had used his powers on Draco but since Draco wasn’t into guys, it didn’t work and so they
had a fight because he noticed it.
It was utter crap, if you asked him. For one, León’s powers did work on him or else he would
still be in denial about his sexuality. Secondly, León would never use his powers on him, not
after they talked about it. He just knew that wasn’t his type.

Due to the tension building between them, Draco decided to take his distance as well. Or
well, that’s what he told everyone at least. The truth was that he was dealing with a lot, too
much at the same time and it threw his emotions on a roller-coaster which only seemed to go
down, never up. He couldn’t face his friends anymore and he started to withdraw again,
going mute during meals when he attended them and leaving the dorm at night without
coming back because León was definitely not the only problem he had to deal with.

Ever since he almost killed Katie Bell, Draco hadn’t been able to close his eyes.

Sleep didn’t come to him easily anymore despite all the exhaustion he piled up through the
week and when he did, he woke up feeling sick. He often ran to the bathroom to empty the
content of his stomach. The whole situation was much more concerning than the fact he fell
out with León. He couldn’t help but hate himself for doing that to her.

Each time he thought about what he’d done, he felt sweat gathering and pooling across his
body – his spine mostly and his forehead too, sometimes. He couldn’t live with himself. So
he started to drink invigorating draughts again because he didn’t know what else to do to
keep the nightmares at bay. He locked himself in the Room of Requirement at all time,
refusing to quit it even for a few minutes. He’d have a meal per day and that was that. He was
punishing himself, he knew it. But the things he’d done were keeping his appetite at bay. He
couldn’t stomach to eat anything.

He knew he deserved to feel like shit after that and he knew it was only the beginning. What
he’d done to Katie should’ve been done to Dumbledore instead. There would be more
victims of his scheming in a few months too. However, what happened with Katie seemed to
anchor that truth deep into his flesh. Because for once, he was the instigator of that pain she
endured. He hadn’t just witnessed it. That made him feel monstrous.

Blaise tried to talk to him. He tried to comfort him and be there for him but Draco didn’t let
him. He still didn’t know what Blaise knew or didn’t but there was something in the way he
looked at him that made Draco think that perhaps he knew more than he said. He and
Regulus shared the same kind of glint as they looked at Draco and it was unnerving. Either
way, he didn’t want Blaise to comfort him. It didn’t feel right.

He was back to spiralling, every thoughts he had about himself led to self-loathing and
disgust. He was ashamed and guilty. He wanted to apologise but he couldn’t. Words were not
meant to fix such irredeemable mistake. Was that even a mistake? That probably wasn’t. It
was a blatant attempt of murder. He’d known it at the minute he saw the necklace and yet, he
still did it.

Because Bellatrix asked him to. Because he couldn’t think of a way to turn her down.
Because he was scared and he knew he had to work on his task to kill Dumbledore but he still
hadn’t even started. Because this time, as he stared at his aunt in the eyes, he realised there
was no way out.
That made him understand that there wouldn’t be any way out at all soon. Like, generally
speaking. That made him ill and so he complied to her orders. He did what was expected of
him. He had no choice, right? Or did he have the choice but made the wrong decision? He
didn’t know. It was too late now to think about that.

So he’d done it and now, an innocent girl was spending her days at St Mungo’s because he
had almost reduced her life to nothing. If Hagrid hadn’t reacted fast enough, she would be
dead and Draco would’ve been a murderer. When realisation washed over him somewhere
between midnight and three in the morning, Draco had thrown up. He wasn’t better than
those death eaters he hated so much.

Tonight, he tried to work on his task to pass time because he still had no idea what was wrong
with the cabinet but he couldn’t handle it. Working on the task meant helping the death eaters
and after everything, he couldn’t stand it. That’s how he found himself crying hard again.

His back resting against the wall of the Room of Requirement, he pressed a hand against his
mouth to muffle the sobs, his tears spilling alarmingly fast on his cheeks. He was choking on
his spit when he tried to swallow, coughing with difficulty around his sobs. He tilted his head
back and squeezed his eyes shut. His chest was too tight and he felt out of breath so he forced
himself to take off his hand from his mouth as to breathe but each time he inhaled, it felt like
he was undeserving of the air filling his lungs. That was unfair.

Unfair. Unfair. Unfair.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

Death eater’s scum.

His mind chanted restlessly each time he tried to calm down.

His chest heaved when he remembered those two piercing eyes staring into his soul back at
the manor. He had almost caused Katie Bell to look like this too. He had almost sentenced
her to death because his cowardice led him to force her to fill that task for him. The spell that
flew out and struck her came from his wand. He had forced her to take the necklace. He had
forced her to bring it back to the castle. And it was his fault if she ended up hurt because at
the last moment, he decided to lift the spell and free her from his control except she touched
the necklace and she almost died.

She almost died because of him.

Not because of Yaxley. Not because of Dolohov. Not because of the other death eaters. Him.
He was responsible for this.

It twisted his guts painfully and he sprang to his feet before he heaved again. He felt the bile
coating the walls of his throat and he wondered if he was going to be sick again. He thought
hard about a bucket and he was glad when it materialised right on time before him. He
grabbed it and he threw up again for the third time of the day.
His tears burnt his cheeks, turning them red and he felt like he was going to die. He kind of
wish he could die, actually. But he knew it was just the cowardice speaking. He just didn’t
want to face the things he’d done. He didn’t want to be held accountable for the price his
actions had costed.

But he would be held accountable, right? Because Katie Bell was stable at St Mungo’s which
meant she would come back to school soon and then everyone would know what he’d done.
Because she’d seen his face in the mirror of the bathroom, back in the Three Broomsticks
where he found her and submitted her to his complete and utter control. Because he
remembered the surprise he read in her gaze when she noticed his presence. Because she was
about to turn around to question him when the spell struck her.

He knew she had seen him. It was just a question of time before everyone would know it too.
And then, Harry would know too. And then, because Harry would know, Sirius and Remus
would find out too – though he still hadn’t heard of either of them. Which ultimately meant
that they would give up on him, let him down and watch as he’d spiral into darkness because
there was no way they’d want him anymore. Not after that.

He knew deep down that he should just go and come clean, admit he had done this. He knew
he should. But he couldn’t. Fear paralysed him and he couldn’t even think anymore, too
panicked to put his thoughts together. He heaved again, ready to throw up again as his
stomach clenched painfully.

“Move!” he heard a voice growling on the other side of the wall against which he was sitting
again. It was coming from the corridor.

“Get the hell out of here, Potter,” Vincent spat.

“I just want to see him,” Harry explained. “He’s been avoiding me for days!”

“For good reasons. He doesn’t want to see your nasty face, scar-head,” Gregory sniggered.
“Move”

He heard some shuffling on the other side of the wall as he held his breath. He was scared to
make a noise as he sat very still against the wall, listening intently to their conversation.

“I know you’re in there, Malfoy!” Harry said loudly. “Come out! I have some news about
Padfoot!”

Draco’s breath hitched and within a second he was on his feet. He wiped his face quickly and
he ran to the door. He opened it harshly and he grabbed Harry by the sleeve before he yanked
him inside the room. He closed the door immediately after.

“How is he?” he croaked, his voice hoarse and sore after being sick so often.

“My dad sent a lett–“ he came to an abrupt halt as he cocked his head to try to meet Draco’s
eyes. “Have you been crying? Are you okay?”

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Potter. Just tell me what he said,” he demanded.
“Wait, no. What’s going on?”

“Potter,” he said through gritted teeth.

Harry placed the letter on the table beside the door and he strode to close the gap between
them. He placed his hands on his cheeks and Draco jerked his head before he took a step
back. He didn’t want him to touch him. Not after what he’d done. He couldn’t let him
comfort him knowing he had hurt one of his friend. He just couldn’t.

“Look at me,” he said patiently.

“I swear I will hex you,” Draco said, tears still pooling in his eyes.

He hadn’t stopped crying in hours and his head hurt like a bitch. It felt like he had no control
over his emotions. He was shaking from head to toe as he tried to keep everything down but
it just seemed impossible.

“Did something happen?” Harry asked with concern.

Draco’s shoulders shook before a broken sob escaped him and the tears rolled down his face.
He clasped a hand on his mouth to repress it but he crouched down and he cried hard. Harry
looked at him dumbly, his lips parted as he tried to process that Draco was literally breaking
down in front of him.

“Is this about the task?” Harry asked softly as he knelt in front of him. He placed a hand on
his shoulder to comfort him and it made Draco sob harder.

“Harry, please…” he cried.

He didn’t even know what he was asking for. He placed his hands on his face to hide himself
but Harry took his hands off and he tilted his chin up so he’d look at him in the eyes. Draco
felt like he was about to die because of the gentleness and the kindness he read in his gaze.
He didn’t deserve it.

He didn’t fucking deserve it.

“Just yes or no, okay? Is this about the task?”

“Y– yes,” he cried, his voice quivering.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Harry asked quietly, his hand moving to his back where he
rubbed it soothingly.

“I– I can’t,” he shook his head frantically, his eyes widening in horror.

He should tell him. If he admitted it right here and there, Harry would maybe hate him a little
bit less. Except Draco didn’t think it was fair. He deserved to be hated for what he’d done. He
deserved to hurt. So he didn’t say anything. Besides, if he told him right now, then Harry
might hate him instantly and then he’d be all alone before he could even understand what was
going on. He didn’t think he could handle it.
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t tell me. Can I hug you?” he asked softly.

Draco hesitated. Once again, he didn’t think he deserved it but at the same time, he very
much needed a hug. He’d kill to have some comfort right now. Yet, when he looked at Harry
he shook his head.

“Please, don’t,” he whispered while struggling to keep his sobs under control.

“Okay,” Harry breathed empathetically. “You should sit down at least. You’re shaking hard,”
he said.

It’s only after Harry pointed it out that Draco realised his thighs were burning like hell. He
took a deep breath to try to stop crying and he sat down awkwardly. He rested his back
against the wall again and he folded his legs. Then, he rested his head between his knees and
he kept crying a little bit longer. Harry remained quiet the whole time but he came to sit by
his side. Suddenly, Draco felt like the darkness surrounding him dissipated a bit. He felt
invaded with light, one so bright that it chased the darkness for good while Harry kept
rubbing him gently. It felt like he could breathe again.

Slowly, his cries died and he started to catch his breath. Harry didn’t stop his movements
which definitely soothed Draco a bit. He took deep breath after deep breath and he waited
until his heart calmed down for it was beating wildly in his chest and he felt close to a heart
attack. Several minutes later, Draco was back to normal though his eyes were swollen and red
and his cheeks were no better. He sniffed sadly and wiped his face before he looked at Harry
again.

“Thanks,” he croaked. “I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. It’s okay”

“No, it’s not,” he croaked as fresh tears came to his eyes. He groaned bitterly. “Fuck! Why
can’t I stop crying?!” he exclaimed with frustration as he wiped his eyes again.

“Are you sure you still don’t want to talk about it?” he asked. “You’ve been spending all your
time in there. I came to the astronomy tower a couple of times over the last few days but you
never showed up”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry it’s just I– I–“ he took a steadying breath. “I just wanted to be
alone”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“You said you heard from Sirius,” he said as he suddenly remembered why Harry had come
here in first place.

“Yeah. My dad sent a letter this morning. Hold on”

He watched as Harry stood up and walked to the entrance where he picked up the paper he’d
dropped on the table. He came back a few moments later and he sat down next to him again.
Draco took the letter when Harry handed it to him.
“Prongslet,

Things have been crazy over there. I am so sorry I didn’t reach out earlier. I couldn’t. The
Order sent us on a mission somewhere in the UK (I can’t tell you where exactly nor can I tell
you much about it but just know that I am safe. Everything is alright, you needn’t to worry).

Pads was badly injured as you read in the newspaper and that is an understatement. I
struggled to keep him alive but he should be fine now. He’s still not awake but I am hopeful.
He’s been stable for five days. He should be recovering soon. I am so sorry. You must’ve been
so scared when you read that article in the Daily Prophet.

As for your last question, once again I cannot tell you much. When I picked him up in the
alley, he was half-dead but he mumbled something about Moony. I think Dumbledore sent
him outside to find him because something went wrong with Moony’s last mission. I don’t
know what though. We’ve been apart for two weeks now and I haven’t heard of him since he
left at the beginning of February. However, if Dumbledore asked Pads of all people to go out,
then it must have been really important. I just hope Moony’s alright.

I don’t want to scare you, of course not. But as your father, I think I owe you the truth.
Voldemort is gathering new forces across the country and he’s creating alliances with the
countries in the east. Giants joined his ranks and soon, the Veelas will too from what I heard.
Harry, you have to be careful, okay? The members of the Order are disappearing and a lot of
us have been killed over the last couple of weeks. He is coming. It’s imminent and there’s
nothing we can do to stop him anymore. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. We really tried but he has
so many allies now.

Be careful. Please, stay safe. Do not try to contact me or Moony or Pads or anyone from the
Order until I tell you it’s safe enough to do it. Use the mirror if you really need to but
please… Please do not trust anyone. Some members spoke under torture and he knows too
much about our plans now. He’s going to use them against us, it’s just a matter of time. You’re
not safe anymore at Hogwarts. We’ll come and pick you up as soon as possible. Until then,
listen to Regulus okay? He’ll take care of you so go to him if you need help.

With all my love,

Dad”

Draco gulped loudly as he read the letter and he felt like he was running out of air again.

“Oh Merlin,” he gasped, a strangled noise died at the back of his throat as he shot the most
heartbreaking look to Harry.

“Are you going to cry again?” Harry asked, startled.

“Moony is… And Pads… And he’s coming and we’re all going to die! Oh Merlin this is a
fucking nightmare!” he gasped.

Harry grabbed his shoulders and forced their eyes to meet.

“Oi, what is this? What are you doing? You cannot breakdown now, okay?”

“How are you so chill?! Didn’t you read the letter?!”

“I did! But I’ve been living like this for two years now! I cannot breakdown over this, not
right now. Besides, we knew it was coming. We knew it Draco,” he said firmly.

“I can’t– I can’t–“ he gasped.

“Hey, shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be alright. You have to breathe, okay?”

“This is my fault,” he cried. “I am making things easier for him by completing the tasks he
gave me”

“Of course not. He didn’t even begin to act on the task you were given. All of this, everything
he is doing is not your fault. You’re not responsible for this. It’s part of a plan much bigger
than you and me, okay? This has nothing to do with you. Nothing”

“But– but it’ll be! I’ll be responsible of it, soon! Oh Merlin, this is a disaster!” he cried.

Harry shot him a concern look. “Are you always crying this much?”

“I don’t know why I am crying so shut up about it and pretend like I am not!” he shouted.

“I– how am I supposed to pretend like you’re not crying when you’ve been tearful the whole
time since I came in?” he asked.

“I don’t know! Fucking look away for all I care, Potter!”

Harry pursed his lips but he didn’t reply to the jab.

“Look, I know this is scary. I know it. But he hasn’t won yet, okay? We haven’t given our
finale answer yet. This isn’t over, it’s only beginning”

“Exactly! It’s only beginning! Which means more people will die! Oh– shit, shit shit, shit!”

“Draco, calm down,” he said firmly. “I need you to breathe and to calm the fuck down so we
can think about something”

“Something? What do you want me to do?!”

Harry paused at that as he racked his brain. Draco watched him, wide eyes unleashing more
tears. Fuck, why was he crying again?! Harry was right, he knew this was coming. It was not
a surprise so why was he reacting as though it was the end of the world? He supposed he was
distressed because of everything that had happened recently. Still, it fucking sucked.

He took a deep breath to stop crying but it did little to help. He forced his breathing to slow
down and he wiped his tears angrily. That pissed him off so much. It felt like before a full
moon except he knew it wasn’t the time yet. Because Remus hadn’t sent the potion and he….
Remus didn’t send the potion.

Remus had gone missing, too, according to James. What if that was why he hadn’t sent the
potion? What day was it? It was the end of February, he knew that much. It meant the full
moon was due soon. When? When was the next full moon? Had he forgotten about it? Had
he not noticed the signs because he was too caught up in everything to notice? Because
anxiety, tears and dread were common occurrence to him and didn’t necessarily echoed the
moon’s treatment of his feelings?

As unexpected as it was, it was this thought that forced Draco to stop panicking as he
blanched and froze altogether. If he had forgotten the full moon, then he had to know when it
was meant to come so he could leave the school land when the day would come. He knew
using Remus as his personal calendar as not to forget about it wasn’t his brightest idea. He
should have checked the calendar, he should’ve learned the days of the full moon in advance.

He should’ve been more careful. He shouldn’t have relied on Remus so much but since he
had it covered for him, Draco never worried much about his lycanthropy until now because
he had so much to think about that having Remus taking care of it for him had been relieving.
But Remus wasn’t there today, was he? He was missing. And Draco was a wreck. Fuck, he
really needed a calendar to make sure he still had time.

If his feelings were such a mess because of the full moon, then it meant it couldn’t be too
long before that time of the month came again. It drove him crazy.

“What’s this?” Harry asked with a frown as he picked up a calendar which popped in the
room at their feet.

He looked up at Draco with a questioning look in the eyes and Draco snatched it from his
hands to check on it. Draco’s eyes scanned the paper, looking for the day it was and he
realised he had no idea. He had lost track on time since everything happened and he started to
fall back into an unhealthy lifestyle.

“What day is it?” he asked to Harry, his voice surprisingly even compared to how it sounded
all night long. Dread was settling in the pit of his stomach.

“The 22nd,” Harry replied hastily. “What’s going on?”

Draco’s stomach chunked and he pursed his lips hard. He grabbed his wand and he cast a
quick Tempus spell. He read ten to nine and his eyes widened. He sprang to his feet quickly.

“Draco? Wha–“

“I have to go,” he said as he strode to the door. “I have this thing I have forgotten about”

“Oh, okay? Will we meet tonight at the top of the astronomy tower?” he asked.

“I think I need to be alone a bit longer. I’ll see you when I’ll feel like it,” he said before he
opened the door and he ran outside without leaving enough time to Harry to speak.
He had to get out. He couldn’t stay here. Not after seeing the fucking full moon next to the
day it was on the calendar. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about it. He couldn’t believe
he was barely fifteen minutes from turning. He couldn’t believe it.

He ran like the wind through the corridors, breathless for a whole other reason than the
exercise. He would never be out of the castle before he’d turn if he didn’t speed up but his
muscles were sore and he was weak after spending so many days skipping so many meals.
He still had to try. He couldn’t turn here, inside the school. That was too dangerous – and for
once, that thought was completely selfless. He didn’t think once about the fact his secret
could be discovered. No. All he thought about was the casualties this could cause.

He ran faster, his robes flying behind him.

He reached the moving stairs and he skipped on spot, impatient, as they took their sweet time
to settle in front of him. Draco climbed them as soon as he had the possibility to. He lost five
minutes just to go down because they decided to be capricious tonight – right when he didn’t
need it. He was relieved when he finally reached the first floor, though it didn’t last because
he almost ran into his cousin, Tonks. She was talking to a student. He stopped breathing and
he pinned himself against the wall and hid there until she left.

“You know I’d love to but you really need to go to your dorm now, Elezar,” she replied to
something Draco missed.

The Slytherin boy gave her a charming smile.

“Please, I swear I won’t be out for too long. It’s a Saturday night. Surely you used to have fun
too on Saturday night when you were young,” he said mischievously.

“Watch your mouth, young man. I am not that old!”

“You just called me ‘young man’,” he pointed out teasingly. “Please, Tonks. Pretty please? I
swear I’ll be back before ten,” he said.

Tonks gave him a stern look as she pressed her lips together. She shook her head and smiled.

“Alright. But you better not lie to me. I’ll come and check your dorm at ten o’clock,” she
warned.

“I’ll be there!” Elezar promised as he hugged her with excitement before he pulled away and
turned on his heels.

Tonks watched him leave with a fond smile.

“Oh and! If you meet with Filch, I know nothing about this! Got it?” she called.

“Sure!” he replied without turning around and disappeared into the night.

“That kid’s going to be the death of me,” she said before she grabbed her wand and walked
away. She probably went back to work.
Draco didn’t dare to check how much time he just lost again and he resumed running as soon
as she was out of sight. He supposed he had really no time left. His head was pounding and it
felt like something was making his vision all blurry. He looked up to see if the moon was
there but it was hidden behind the clouds like it had been for weeks. It wasn’t very helpful.
Looking away, he took a sharp turn and he hoped he’d reach the exit of the castle before he’d
turn.

When he arrived near the toilets on the first floor, he thought he was going to make it. He
could see the exit. He saw the yard spreading before his eyes. A little more effort and he’d be
outside. So he sped up as much as possible, yearning to turn far away from the castle. His
eyes shone with hope as he saw his feet bringing him closer to the exit.

Just a little more and he’d be out.

Just one tiny little effort and he wouldn’t be a threat to any students.

“Draco! What are you doing here? You should be in your dorm!” he heard his godfather
calling behind him.

Draco’s breath hitched and he felt suffocating all of a sudden. He looked over his shoulder
and he saw Severus coming towards him. His eyes widened and he forced himself to look
away as he kept running towards the exit. He couldn’t stop right now. He was too close to the
exit. He couldn’t ruin everything now.

“Draco! Stop this instant!” Severus growled behind him, his heels hammering the floor faster
as he came after him.

Draco opened his mouth to shout something at him but a deafening scream escaped him
instead and he fell on one knees, stopping him in his run. His heart pumped blood faster and
he watched in horror as his claws started to tore the skin of his fingertips to come out,
drawing blood which dripped down to the floor.

“Draco?” Severus called. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t come closer!” he shouted, a hand stretched towards him, a silent plead.

“Draco…” he breathed in horror.

His claws were now out and he screamed again in pain as his bones broke one by one. It felt
like he was burning inside and the ache in his head worsened. His skull almost split in two as
his fangs came out and he fell to the floor as his feet broke under his weight. He was shaking
like a leaf.

“Go… away…” he tried to say.

His worst nightmare was becoming reality and he could do nothing to stop it from happening
because Greyback sealed his fate months ago and he was now forced to comply to the whims
of the moon, making him a subject of the majestic celestial ball. He was turning here, alone
in Hogwarts, in the middle of the castle with no potion digested for a week. And Remus
wasn’t there. Sirius wasn’t either. It was the first time he turned alone and he had no idea how
to deal with it. He had no idea what to do. With the last strengths he had, he crawled on the
floor. The loud cracks of his broken bones echoed in the stony corridor and he cried hard.

He dug his claws into the stone and he forced himself to keep crawling even though his
whole body hurt. He heard Severus coming closer and his eyes fluttered as he dropped his
hand to the floor. He couldn’t make it. He didn’t have any time left. His tears rolled down his
cheeks as the white fur started to spring all over his body and his face extended in the shape
of a muzzle. He felt his last forces leaving him as black spots came in his vision.

The wind hit his face when he closed his eyes. The last thing he saw was the dark of the night
and the tree nearby which he could see only because of the lights in the corridor. Tonight, the
moon was shining like a thousand crystals behind the clouds and even though Draco couldn't
see it, it still took away his consciousness.

Just like that, as fast as a butterfly flapped its wings, he was gone. He let out a breath before
he passed out to the sound of a door opening on his right and before he knew it, the wolf took
over. He hadn’t made it outside. He had turned here, in the corridor of the first floor, so close
to the exit as his claws touched the grass nearby.

He was close. But not quite there yet.

 Aftermath
Chapter Notes

TW Minor Character Death

Mention of Past Murder

Monday 24th of February 1997

His eyes fluttered open, admittedly a bit slowly but with no difficulty thankfully.

He felt a bit disorientated, as though he’d been sleeping for days. Maybe he had. His body
was sore because he hadn’t moved much lately. His body was visibly recovering from the
injuries he got during the last moon, not that he was aware of it. His head pounded hard when
he tried to sit up on his bed. He groaned in pain and he pressed the heel of his hand against
his forehead to stop it from spinning. He was going to be sick.

“Don’t move too much. You’ve been badly injured,” Blaise murmured near him, reaching out
to help him to lie down again.

His ears were buzzing a bit and his vision was blurry. He’d noticed it too when he woke up
but he’d thought it was because of tiredness except his eyes never focused, not even now he
was slowly coming to his senses. He glanced sideways without moving too much, just like
Blaise had advised and he realised he wasn’t in his dorm. Through the blur, he recognised the
hospital wing and he wondered how the hell he ended up here.

He blinked slowly as he tried to coerced his vision to stop being so blurry. It took a while
before everything finally came into focus and it’s only after a tear rolled down his cheek that
he realised his eyes were wet, causing the blur to persist even after the tiredness had gone
away. He brought a hand to his face, startled. His fingertips met the tear before it reached his
chin and he sent a look to Blaise, confused.

Why was he crying?

“Mr Malfoy! I’m glad to see you finally woke up,” Madam Pomfrey said as she entered in
the room, energised as ever as she made her way towards his bed. “How’s the head?”

He looked at her, even more confused. He wished someone would just explain how he ended
up here. Before he could ask anything, Madam Pomfrey was next to him and she tilted his
chin up gently to look at his eyes.

“How many fingers do you see?” she asked as she levelled her fingers with his face.

“Three,” he replied hoarsely.

“And now?”

“Seven”

“Good,” she said.

Then, she picked her wand and cast a quiet Lumos. The light she placed in front of his eyes to
check his pupils caused Draco to jerk away, blinded, but he meekly resettled on the bed and
he let her check on him because if what Blaise said was true, he’d been badly injured and he
probably would benefit from her care.

“Thankfully, I think you’ll recover without too much difficulty. Your eyes are responsive and
it’s encouraging,” she informed. “Let’s check your memory now. Do you remember how you
got here?”

Draco stared at her, unsure how to answer. He tried to remember but he couldn’t and it was
perceivable in his eyes, confusion settling on his features. Out of the corner of his eye, he
noticed Blaise played with his fingers nervously and pursed his lips.

“Draco?” she asked, her eyes searching as she waited for an answer.

Oh right, he had to speak.

“No,” he said.

“Mmh, well you were in a bad shape when you arrived yesterday. I am not surprised you
can’t remember,” she said. “Right. Perhaps you could tell me about what happened instead?
Is that something you remember?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he focused. He didn’t remember much actually. His last memory
retraced the moment he shared with Harry. And then, he remembered that he’d forgotten
something very important but he couldn’t tell what. His eyebrows were frowning in earnest
as he tried to remember more. No matter how much he tried, he knew he was missing
something. Suddenly, he had a flash of memory. He remembered running in the corridor and
meeting with Severus but he didn’t know what happened before nor after.

“I– I,” he said slowly before he looked up to look at her in the eyes. “No”

Madam Pomfrey gave him an undecipherable look before she started to take off the bandage
around his chest – which he didn’t even notice until now, mind you. He looked down at
himself and he saw an ugly wound crossing his chest. He winced. That would definitely leave
a scar. He missed the time his alabaster skin was left unwounded. He was covered with scars
nowadays and he hated it.

Madam Pomfrey cleaned the wound and changed the bandage as she hummed to herself and
then, she stood up and walked to a tray where she’d placed a few potions. She grabbed one
and she gave it to Draco. He thanked her and he downed it quickly, relieved. The ache would
finally leave him alone.

“What happened?” Draco asked when he finally put the potion down.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and he stared at the nurse expectantly. Out of
the corner of his eye, he saw Blaise stiffening, sitting straighter than he had ever seen him sit
and the ambiance shifted in the room.

“Oh, my boy,” Madam Pomfrey said with a hint of sadness poorly dissimulated in her voice.
“Let me fetch Professor Dumbledore. He’ll explain everything”

She shot him a sad look before she left the room, door clicking behind her. Draco stared at it.
He wasn’t satisfied with that answer and he was growing anxious. What the fuck had
happened?

“Blaise?” he called his best friend.

Blaise met his eyes reluctantly but he looked like he could barely stand to look at him.
Something akin to empathy was glistening in his eyes, though. Draco really hated that.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice smaller than ever.

“What happened?”

Blaise squeezed his eyes shut and looked at the ceiling.

“I knew you were about to ask that question,” he said before he looked at him again.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“I– I really want to tell you. But I don’t even know how to,” he said around a hard swallow.

“Blaise, you fucking scare me,” he said, his stomach churning.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” he sighed and ran a hand in his hair before he stood up and came to sit
on the bed by his side, a leg still touching the floor meanwhile the other was folded on one
side of the bed. He took his hands in his and he released a shuddering breath before he looked
at him again. “Something happened during the last f–“

The door opened again and their eyes snapped towards it to see Dumbledore and Madam
Pomfrey entering in the hospital wing again. Blaise let go of his hands before he stood up.

“What’s going to happen now?” Blaise asked a bit frantic. “Are you going to expel him?
Because it’s not fair! It wasn’t his–“

Dumbledore raised a hand to shut him up and Blaise closed his mouth.

“Not today, my boy. Not today,” Dumbledore said calmly before he looked at Draco, blue,
glinting eyes found grey and Draco swallowed.

What had he done that would cause him to be expelled? And what was Blaise about to say?

“Draco. I’m glad to see you’re finally back among us. You scared us quite a lot. Your state
was highly concerning. Though it wasn’t anything Madam Pomfrey couldn’t deal with,” he
said while approaching, his hands clasped at the front of his grey-ish robes. He stopped at the
end of his bed as he took in the extent of his injuries. “Madam Pomfrey told me you were to
stay a day or two at the hospital wing to make sure your wounds won’t reopen. Please, come
and find me as soon as you’re out. I believe there are matters we need to discuss”

“I will, professor,” he said respectfully.

“I trust you will,” he gave him a small, peaceful smile. “You need to rest, now. I will see you
in a couple of days”

Draco nodded and Dumbledore turned on his heels. He watched as the man walked towards
the exit, Madam Pomfrey still by his bed. Before Dumbledore left the room, he turned around
and shot a look to Blaise.

“Mr Zabini. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“But–“ he protested.

“Do not worry about your friend. He is well taken care of,” he said. “Let me walk you to your
class”

Blaise bit the inside of his cheek, something he only did when he was upset. He glanced at
Draco one last time before he nodded reluctantly and he stood up to leave the room with the
headmaster. Draco had no idea what happened but whatever it was, it was obvious it upset
Blaise a lot.

He didn’t see him again after that.

Wednesday 26th of February 1997

Draco left the hospital wing two days later, as promised.

He wasn’t fully healed but his wounds were closed and he just had to be careful now while he
recovered. Still, he couldn’t miss too many classes so he found himself leaving the hospital
wing at dawn as not to miss today’s classes as well. He was on his way towards
Dumbledore’s office but he didn’t know if he’d have the time to both eat this morning and
meet with the headmaster. The serpentine corridor leading to the stairs was crowded by
students who were flocking together in direction of the Great Hall and it was hard to avoid
them or make a way through the crowd.

Despite the large amount of students gathered at the same place, the corridor was deadly
silent if not for a girl who was crying. When he noticed her, he saw it was Parvati and she
was surrounded with many Gryffindors. Granger was rubbing her back soothingly,
whispering comforting words to her.

“I can’t believe it’s real. I still can’t believe she really is g–“ Parvati’s voice was strangled
around the word and she cried harder, her head in her hands.
Draco wondered what was going but he didn’t question it much. He didn’t very care about
whatever happened in the Gryffindor Tower and he supposed someone had broken her heart
or something. Grateful for the distraction posed by Parvati’s cries, Draco managed to walk
faster in the corridor now most students were gathered around her. They all looked like
someone had died and it was way too depressing to his liking.

He didn’t glance at them twice before he turned into another corridor and walked away from
them. However, he did notice Harry wasn’t among them.

When he finally approached from Dumbledore’s office, he heard some shouting even before
he gave the password to the gargoyle. He wasn’t sure if he should go and see what was
happening for himself. Maybe he would be intruding or something? But at the same time, it
was Dumbledore himself who had asked him to meet with him today. He’d dropped a note
last night saying so and he’d given him the password, too.

He took a deep breath and he said the password aloud. Then, he watched as the gargoyle spun
on itself, revealing stony stairs. He didn’t wait until the gargoyle immobilised itself before he
climbed the torturous stairs. The closer he got to the office, the louder the voices got and he
recognised Remus which was a fucking relief because despite he didn’t remember much, he
remembered reading about his disappearance.

What surprised him though, was that Remus never yelled and right now, he was quite losing
it in Dumbledore’s office, cursing like a sailor. His voice sounded so angry and indignant that
Draco wondered – not for the first time since he woke up two days ago – what the hell was
happening.

“–killed them and you fucking did nothing to stop them! You fucking let him rot in this shit-
hole for years to die like a dog! You’re a fucking hypocrite! All the speeches you gave
through the years were nothing but lies! He told me everything! Everything! Because once
again I was defending you and he lost it and now he told me, I can’t help but see why he
hates you! I’ve been nothing but loyal to you, Dumbledore and that’s how you fucking
thanked me?! By taking him away from me and betraying me?!”

When Draco pushed the door quietly to enter in the office after a knock that went unnoticed,
he froze. He should leave, right? It sounded rather personal. However, curiosity got the best
of him and he took a step forward, head cocked aside to try and see the men inside as he
walked along the corridor leading further into the office.

“Remus–“

“Shut up, I am not fucking done!” he growled. “You wanted to trade his life for mine and you
treated us as though we were canon fodder in the war like a manipulative bastard! I can see it
now! You were ready to sacrifice me to get him out of Azkaban! You knew that if he got out
no one would ever trust him anymore after you pointedly ignored he was innocent but you
still took the risk to lose me as well! You wanted him to out me to the fucking Wizarding
World! That would’ve ruined my life! And for what?!” his hand hit the desk harshly. “What
could possibly explain what you fucking did to us?!”

“I will not have that conversation with you until you calm down”
“Calm down?! You want me to fucking calm down?! Maybe if for once in your goddamn life
you stopped lying to us and fucking spoke your mind instead of that manipulative bullshit–“

“It wasn’t manipulation but strategy!” he interjected, his voice raising slightly before he
continued calmly. “My aim has never been to cause anyone any harm. We all wanted this war
to end and so I did what had to be done”

“Tell that to someone else!”

“I had no choice, Remus”

“We always have a fucking choice, that’s what you said about Regulus, right?” he challenged.
“And you made yours knowing damn well the price you’d pay for it! The price we all paid!”

“You have to understand Remus, things were hard for everyone back in the days. We all
made things we aren’t proud of–”

“How could I understand shit when you’re not saying any-fucking-thing?! All I hear are
excuses! Why have you done that?! Why have you tried to force Sirius to grass me up in
exchange for his freedom?!”

“I couldn’t trust James to raise Harry properly. He is the boy of the prophecy and I needed
him to be ready for this war. We knew it wasn’t done after Voldemort disappeared and James
was in a bad place at the time,” he said, his voice even.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You’re telling me you did that to sink your claws into Harry?
What? You thought that if you ousted Sirius and I from the picture James would be easier to
manipulate so you could have him where you wanted him to be in order to shape Harry into
the soldier you needed him to become to end this fucking madness? Is that so?”

“I–“

“Oh I bet you fucking hated Reggie when he came back, uh?” he snarled. “He ruined your
plans when he ended up on James’ doorstep and James took him back, right? And before
him, Sirius had also put your project in a bad state when he refused to grass me up,” he
chuckled lowly. “You’re the fucking worst”

“I have no regrets, if that’s what you hope to hear. Yes, I needed James at his weakest in order
for this to work out”

Dumbledore was the first person Draco saw when he came closer. The man was sitting on his
chair, arms dangling on the armrest as he looked at Remus who was still too busy glaring at
him with anger. Dumbledore’s face was harder than Draco had ever seen it, long gone was
the calm and composed demeanour. His eyes were sombre and he looked like he was almost
glaring right back at Remus. His facial expression was very unpleasant. He radiated with
power and danger but it was like Remus couldn’t give a damn as he kept poking at him.

“You’re not even denying it!” Remus said in disbelief.

“No. Because I couldn’t see any other way to achieve this goal until Regulus came back. I
genuinely thought it was for the best. In the end, it all turned out alright. Harry is where he’s
meant to be and all of you are reunited. Nothing I did was unfixable but it certainly changed
the course of the war whether you like it or not”

“Oh so it makes it acceptable? Fuck, how stupid I am! I should be thanking you for ruining
our lives and using us like puppets in your mastermind plan,” he ironised. “Your ways are
fucking disgusting, I can’t fucking believe I defended you so many times while you were
stabbing all of us in the back! I thought you’d have a good explanation to give me but the
truth is that you’re no better than Voldemort! Sirius has said so for years and I've never
listened. I didn’t have the whole picture but now?! Fuck, now you can trust I fucking see the
resemblance! In fact, you’re so full of shit I wonder which one is the evil bastard we should
be wary of”

“Are you done?” Dumbledore asked, his voice sounded upset and low.

With another step forward, Draco finally saw Remus. He’d thrown his hands to the ceiling
and his chest was heaving as he reeled his argument off. Never before Draco had noticed how
strong his Welsh accent was but as he spoke right now, it was all he could hear. He looked at
him, wide-eyed and a bit in awe, too. He knew just how much Remus loved Dumbledore and
almost worshipped the floor he walked on. Seeing him going on full rant mode today was a
bit delightful – or it would’ve been if Draco wasn’t so worried by the things he heard and
those he still ignored. He had more pressing matters than the admiration he felt for Remus at
the moment.

“No!” Remus exclaimed as he paced in the office. He was about to speak again when
Dumbledore interjected.

“Draco. I am glad to see you came,” he said after he schooled his features.

Draco startled, surprised he had been caught. He cleared his throat and he came into the light,
his step hesitant. Remus’ eyes were dark as night when they found him. His amber eyes were
ignited with the flame of anger, his jaw clenched in a way Draco couldn’t help but think of as
painful. Other than the anger stitched on his face, he looked well and it was relieving. No
new scars were disfiguring him.

Still, Draco didn’t like being at the other end of that glare. He wondered how Dumbledore
didn’t shiver under his gaze. He looked very terrifying. Dumbledore stood up and came in
front of his office. He clasped his hands together, ready to speak again.

“This conversation isn’t over, Dumbledore,” Remus growled, his eyes sending daggers to the
man before he walked towards the exit.

“Actually… I’d like you to stay, Remus,” the man said.

“Why? So you can feed me with more lies?” he snorted. “No thanks. I’m full. You made sure
of it”

“It’s about Draco’s last full moon,” Dumbledore said before Remus could reach the door.
Remus froze and turned on his heels, his complexion blanching slightly.

“What about it?” He asked to Dumbledore before his gaze softened when he placed it on
Draco. “Are you okay?”

“Mr Malfoy was badly injured during the last full moon. He just came out of the hospital
wing,” Dumbledore answered matter-of-factly.

“I don’t think I talked to you,” Remus replied before he turned to look at Draco again. “How
bad were you injured?”

Draco opened his mouth but no sound came out because he didn’t even remember turning for
the full moon in first place. Was that what Blaise was trying to tell him, a few days ago when
he last saw him? That something had gone wrong with the full moon? It sent shivers down
his spine.

“Mr Malfoy had to be neutralised during the last full moon. He left no choice to Severus–“

“Snape?! You let Snape hurt him?” he asked through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong
with you?! We know what kind of magic he likes to use! He could’ve killed him!” he said,
indignant.

“As I said, he left him no choice,” he said diplomatically.

“And how much truth does that carry?” he challenged.

Dumbledore’s eyes shone dangerously before he replied, his voice calm and even.

“See for yourself,” he said before he walked to a cupboard and yanked the doors opened.

A wave of the hand later, a pensieve came out of the cupboard and placed itself in front of it.
Dumbledore picked up a phial from his shelf and he poured a few drops into the pensieve
before he capped it and tidy it back in place. He gestured to the pensieve, inviting, while he
looked at Remus straight in the eye. Remus shot an undecipherable look at Draco who felt
incredibly small under his gaze as he saw him arching a questioning eyebrow. Then, Remus
refocused on the pensieve and he grabbed the edge of it on both sides before he dove head-
first into the memory Dumbledore had chosen to show him.

Draco stayed there, frozen on spot and he stared at him while twisting the ring on his finger
nervously. He didn’t understand anything. He had no idea what was going on but it made him
feel incredibly uneasy. He was worried and scared. He didn’t have all the information and
now he knew it has something to do with the full moon, it was even worse.

Fuck, if only his memory worked! He wouldn’t be so lost, so unnerved.

Feeling on the edge, he bit on his lip and he tried to pretend like he couldn’t see the way
Dumbledore was staring at him the whole time while Remus watched whatever memory
Dumbledore had showed him. He felt his breathing quickening as the minutes passed and
Remus didn’t resurface just yet but he tried to keep it under control. It was easier to do it
today than it had been all these days ago, in the Room of Requirement with Harry.
It took four minutes and several seconds before Remus’ head came out of the pensieve with a
gasp. His complexion was even paler than Draco’s if that was possible, considering he wore a
natural tan in normal times. He looked at Draco with wide eyes, mouth gaping, before he
turned to look at Dumbledore who simply nodded quietly.

“Draco?” Remus asked cautiously after he swallowed. He took a step closer but all the anger
Draco could see earlier had vanished and now he moved like he was worried to spook a wild
animal. Draco felt his mouth going dry.

“Remus?” he asked on the same tone.

“Do you– do you remember…?” His eyes looked softer, warm amber eyes staring into the icy
grey of Draco’s orbs. Draco shook his head. “You didn’t take the potion at all, then?” he
asked in a breath. Draco shook his head again and Remus turned to look at Dumbledore.
“Why didn’t he got the potion at all while I was gone?”

“You said Sirius would take care of it before leaving,” Dumbledore replied.

“That was before you sent him looking for me!” he seethed. “Oh for fuck’s sake you caused
this to happen! It’s your fault!”

“I did no such thing,” Dumbledore denied. “I fear I cannot be held accountable for Mr
Malfoy’s actions”

“Why didn’t you help him when you read about Sirius’ potential murder?! Why weren’t you
there for him? He has no one but us to help him through the full moon, Dumbledore! Since
we couldn’t help him and you know his secret, you should’ve taken care of it yourself!”

“I couldn’t”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t come to me,” Dumbledore said. “Never once he asked for my help and I couldn’t
force it upon him if it wasn’t desired,” he explained. “He made it abundantly clear that he
didn’t want anything to do with me”

“Oh fucking pinch me I’m dreaming,” he huffed to the ceiling. “He is sixteen!” he almost
shouted, his eyes wide in disbelief. “He doesn’t know how to take care of himself! He doesn’t
know what’s good for him hence why parents are supposed to fucking care for their teens,
okay?! You can’t expect a sixteen years old to act reasonably, especially when they’re in the
same case as Draco is! He’s just fucking terrified all the time! What the fuck are you talking
about?! He’s a kid and he needed help! That was on you! Don’t put the blame on him for
what happened when your inaction brought him to this ending!”

“What happened?” Draco interjected before they could get into another fight. “What
happened during the full moon? What have I done?” he asked, feeling sick.

Remus’ eyes snapped to him and he looked like he was completely wrecked, like whatever he
saw in the pensieve had left a mark on him and his face was devoured by guilt as he looked at
Draco, as though whatever happened was a bit of his fault, too. His eyes were haunted, ghosts
swimming in a sea of amber. It rubbed Draco the wrong way and he felt like his heart was
about to leap out of his mouth because the things he read on his face were definitely not a
good omen.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said. “I’m so sorry Draco I–“

“I asked what happened. Remus please, tell me what happened,” he begged, his eyes pleading
and his voice growing desperate as he was slowly getting frantic.

Remus pinched his lips and he didn’t answer. He made the same face Blaise had made back
in the hospital wing when he’d woken up and Draco felt the bile surging upward from his
stomach, acidity causing his throat to burn as it coated the walls. He stayed there expectantly
but when Remus said nothing, he sprang into motion and he walked passed him to reach the
pensieve and see for himself.

If no one told him, then he’d find out on his own. He was about to lose his mind. He hated
not knowing, it felt even worse than that one time he woke up covered in blood before they
went looking for Sirius because at least, he had been able to quickly put the pieces together.
Now, it had been two days. Two days of torment, two days of sleepless nights during which
he stared at the ceiling and wondered, wondered, wondered. There was just no answer ready
to be given and it was killing him.

He’d tried to force his memory to come back and he got most of the night clear in his mind
now but he still missed some things like the moment he turned and the aftermath of the full
moon. He knew he usually woke up in the morning before going to sleep for a few more
hours. However, the next day, when the moon went to sleep and the sun woke up, Draco
couldn’t remember for the love of Merlin whether or not he’d woken up too. His mind was
void of memories until the moment he woke up at the hospital wing and he couldn’t stand it
anymore.

He needed answers. And he’d get them.

He grabbed the edges of the pensieve and he threw his head forward, ready to dive into it and
seek the answers for himself just like Remus had earlier. However, a few strands of hair was
all that went under the surface because Remus snatched his wrist and yanked him backwards
as gently as possible. Draco turned on his feet and shot him a look akin to a glare but softer,
still.

“Don’t look. I beg you, do not look at that fucking memory,” Remus breathed as in pain, eyes
shining and voice quiet.

“Then tell me what’s going on!” he demanded as he freed himself. “Everyone’s walking on
eggshells around me since I woke up and I don’t understand anything! What’s going on?!
Why is everyone freaking out?! What happened during the full moon?! I am tired, okay? I
just want to understand what’s going on because it’s scary, the way you all look at me! I want
to know!”

“Something happened,” Dumbledore began cautiously.

“Yeah, I gathered that much but I want to know what,” he replied, his tone clipped.

“You turned in the middle of a corridor,” Dumbledore continued. Remus had ducked his
head, hiding behind a curtain of curls. He looked so freaking guilty, that made Draco feel
very bad.

“A– a corridor?” he repeated, his voice sounding very much not like his all of a sudden as
dread made a home for itself in his body.

“Professor Snape was there, thankfully. He protected the school and he lured you into the
forest so you wouldn’t attack anyone. However–“

“Dumbledore,” Remus said, pleading.

“He deserves to know, Remus. You cannot protect him from something that already
happened,” he said. Remus took a shuddering breath and he nodded reluctantly. Dumbledore
refocused on Draco and he continued. “However, he couldn’t protect everyone”

“Wha– what does that mean?”

But he knew what it meant. He just didn’t want to believe it. He needed to hear it, bluntly
with no artifices. His brain was going a million miles a hour and his heart was no better as he
rolled his fists in balls to stop himself from shaking.

“Unfortunately, despite professor Snape’s best efforts, you happened to k–“

“Let me tell him,” Remus blurted.

Dumbledore gave him a look and nodded slowly. Remus took a deep breath and he blinked
quickly to conceal the tears forming in his eyes before he took a step forward and he looked
at Draco in the eyes, his irises shining conspicuously with tears, still. He was trying his best
to be comforting, Draco could tell and it only made him even more scared.

“Remus?” he asked, his voice sounding wetter all of a sudden.

He needed the aid-band to be ripped savagely. He needed to hear the truth right now. He was
about to implode.

“What I am going to tell you it’s– it’s not easy to say nor to hear,” he said slowly, his voice
soft and gentle. “Before professor Snape could intervene, the wolf had the time to…” he
swallowed.

Draco pursed his lips, his voice void of emotions. “I hurt someone, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Remus breathed.

He felt so numb. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dropped onto him and he was
now incapable of feeling anything. His eyes darted from a point to another, his heart beating
too slowly as paradoxical as it sounded. He felt like maybe he was dying slowly inside.
Because hurting that death eater last time had been awful to deal with but this? Hurting one
of his fellow student and having to live with it? It was worse than anything else.

He wasn’t defending himself. He wasn’t protecting Sirius. He’d attacked them for the sake of
it, because it was part of his instincts to hurt and kill whoever came too close when the wolf
took over. And he had done it. He swallowed slowly. Actually, everything felt too slow at the
moment, as though time had slowed down just for him.

“Are they going to be okay?” he asked.

He barely heard his own voice coming out. It sounded too robotic and weird to his ears, a bit
like he was underwater.

“You killed her almost instantly,” Dumbledore said with empathy.

“It wasn’t you,” Remus said fiercely while shooting a glare to Dumbledore. “It was the wolf,
okay? That wasn’t you”

A pregnant pause followed the news of his classmate’s passing and the longer he stared at the
floor, the harder it was to feel like he was still there. He stared at his feet, trying desperately
to feel the floor beneath his feet but all he felt was… nothing. He felt nothing. He was there
but he was not, he’d withdrawn inside in the safety of the walls he’d built for himself. His
mental shields had never been stronger.

“Draco?” Remus called. He tried to look at him but he was trapped inside and his body
reacted basically on instinct. “Did you hear what I say?”

Yes. Yes he heard.

And he kept hearing it on a loop in his head. He had killed someone. He had done that. There
wouldn’t be a day he’d spend without hearing it anymore. It’d follow him everywhere, at all
hours of the day and night. Because he had done that. He’d killed someone and no matter
how much he dissociated from reality, it wouldn’t change the fact he’d become a murderer
overnight.

He couldn’t find his voice anymore. He kept staring at the floor, frozen on spot. The colours
before his eyes faded and suddenly he was colour-blind, seeing life through a prism of black
and white. And maybe he’d died too instantly as his brain tried to process the words. Yeah,
maybe he’d died too that night. He was just a ghost, an empty shell.

A haunted ghost. How ironic was it?

He was glad he couldn’t remember in the end because right now, pictures of the little girl
he’d watched dying came back to the forefront of his mind and he knew that if he’d
remembered killing that girl, she’d be there too, staring down at him like he was a miserable
cockroach. That made his gusts twisting painfully.

Maybe he wasn’t dead, then, if he could still feel the pain? Maybe.
 Numb
Chapter Notes

TW Suicidal thoughts
TW Self harming
TW Self loathing
CW Vomiting
Mention of past murder

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Thursday 6th of March 1997

It had been a week.

A week of self-loathing, of quiet suffering and sleepless nights during which he stared at the
ceiling and kept asking himself why through the streams of tears he couldn’t hold back after
waking up to another nightmare. Soft gasps came out of his mouth and placed a hand on it to
muffle the sound.

Why hadn’t he paid attention to the signs? Why hadn’t he been more careful of the date?
Why did he let it get this far? None of the questions found answers in the quiet of the night
but it wasn’t what he was looking for anyway, it wouldn’t bring him any peace of mind if he
knew why. Answers weren’t sufficient. They wouldn’t help the victim’s family nor would it
help him at all. And even if they did, he wouldn’t accept them even if they’d been served on a
silver plate.

He needed more than answers, he needed a time turner and he needed to go back in time to
fix this.

He couldn’t meet himself in the mirror anymore, he couldn’t cry – bar for the times he woke
up gasping and crying to dreams he couldn’t remember – and he couldn’t speak nor listen to
anything anymore. He was completely shattered, his heart bleeding through the cracks of the
solid mask he forced upon his face and his eyes remained impossibly dry when he was
awake.

When he had heard those words coming out of the headmaster’s mouth, those freaking words
he kept hearing on a loop at the back of his head, Draco had felt something snapping inside.
It’d felt as though those words were blades and cut the strings of his heart. He’d stopped
breathing, dying inconspicuously while sheer horror downed on him.

Days later, he still hadn’t caught his breath.

But as he laid on his back after he recovered from the nightmare, hands lazily placed on his
stomach, he knew he was breathing – or so he was, physically, at the very least. He felt it
beneath his fingertips, the way his stomach inflated and deflated peacefully to the steady
rhythm of his breathing as he brushed the bumps of his skin softly – A perfect opposition to
the war raging in his head.

The numbness didn’t leave ever since he’d heard the news. If anything, it worsened. He felt
like there was too much within and he couldn’t contain it. But at the same time, it felt like it
was too much to express, too, therefore he kept it all locked inside and suffered quietly.
Because he was responsible for the way he felt. So he was stuck in an impossible situation
with no silver-lining to hold onto and he showed nothing while he drowned quietly within,
wallowing in the deep ends of his guilt.

Katie Bell was just an echo in his head nowadays. It’s barely if he spared a thought to the
girl. What difference did it make if she died, too, now? He had killed someone. He’d
achieved his father’s dream, didn’t he? He’d killed someone. It was the very last step he
feared to fulfil in order to become a death eater and he’d done it. He felt like spilling his guts
out on the floor. Or he would, if he still felt something deep down. The boy was so empty –
his insides an ethereal emptiness swallowing him whole like a black hole.

Brains were weird things, weren’t they? He couldn’t remember doing it – the killing that is –
and he had no idea who was the person he’d killed, he didn’t think about asking and he’d
been too out of his mind to pay attention to the other students. But he knew one of them was
gone. One seat in the Great Hall was now vacant and it would remain this way until the day
he’ll leave Hogwarts. Another student might take the seat at some point, but it would never
be filled. Not completely.

His brain was also impossibly treacherous. Sometimes, it randomly came up with different
scenarios only existing in his head and he imagined all the different ways he could’ve killed
whoever he killed. He didn’t even know their gender – had it been mentioned? He couldn’t
remember, his brain was foggier than a morning in London – so they were just a dark
silhouette but despite the shapeless form they took, it always made Draco sick because
among all those scenarios he imagined, one of them must have carried some truth.

His fingers tightened around his shirt and he felt angry at himself. Why did it matter if he
breathed or not? He shouldn’t be allowed such privilege, not when someone else wasn’t
anymore and it was his fault. Because he hadn’t been careful enough. Because he’d let the
wolf take over and he had killed them.

Him. Not the wolf.

No matter what Remus said, it was all on him because the wolf may have sunk its claws in
too deep but he was the one who even allowed that in first place when he had acted
carelessly, too busy staring at his own navel to remember the world was spinning.

He swallowed the truth like sharp knives which destroyed his insides and cut him deep. He
was bleeding within but he couldn’t exteriorise it. No word would be strong enough to
express the feeling. And no word would express equally both the despair he felt and the guilt.
No word. So he kept quiet.
He knew he had caused a heart to stop beating and yet, his brain kept the truth at distance in
the daylight because it was easier than dealing with the reality of his actions when he was
fully awake. On the other hand, despite he knew it was true, it felt too unfathomable for it to
stick. In his mind, Draco knew he was a murderer. But somehow, he wasn’t. Not really.
Because his brain treated the information like a piece of fiction.

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to leave that in-between state keeping
him in this two dimensional head-space that made him feel like Schrödinger's cat – dead but
also very alive until someone opened the box and checked inside. Because he felt like he was
both at the same time, right? He was breathing but he was dead inside.

How odd.

He tried to go on with his life but there was just something that kept holding him back, like a
cry in the distance at midnight sharp in a usually quiet village that kept the hero from leaving
the place without checking first. But in this story, Draco wasn’t the hero. He was the villain
causing those people to scream in first place.

His breathing was slow and quiet in the dorm meanwhile his friends were sleeping. The hand
he rested on his stomach was joined by the other one so he could twist his ring between his
fingers, a nervous gesture as he waited for sleep to envelop him again and take him to the
realm of dreams. These days, he wondered if he even deserved these doors to open for him.
Considering it was well passed midnight and he slept only scarcely, he supposed he didn’t.

Morpheus would’ve already come for him otherwise.

The first shuffling in the dorm happened around six in the morning, indicating his room-
mates were slowly waking up from the night they had had. They were lucky, he thought. He
wished he had been able to sleep last night too but he hadn’t closed his eyes since he’d
opened them after midnight. His eyes were uncomfortably dry as he forgot to blink several
times and they burnt with tiredness, heavy bags carving the skin below the lash-line deeper in
ugly, dark shades.

Draco heard his room-mates whispering to each other quietly and he tried not to make a
noise. He didn’t want them to know he was awake. If he kept very still, then they’d forget
about him. Merlin how he wished people could just forget his whole existence altogether. He
squeezed his eyes as though he was in pain – and maybe he was as his muscles clenched
tightly inside, causing to crush his heart more than it already was.

He heard a few doors opening and closing quietly and then, finally, silence returned
completely. Only then Draco decided he’d get up. He’d go to the kitchen to find himself
something to eat and then he’d go to his classes. He didn’t fancy finding himself in the Great
Hall with everyone else. Since he came back to school last September, Draco had felt like he
didn’t belong here anymore. After what happened during the last moon? It only increased the
sentiment and he avoided his fellow students as much as possible.

So he hid himself from them. He only went to his classes and he left as soon as they were
over to hide at the library between bookshelves which secluded the table like big, protective
walls keeping everyone out and then, he’d disappear to the Room of Requriement. As long as
he could ignore everyone, he would be fine. He was too ashamed to stand being looked at. He
felt dirty and stained. He was convinced anyone could see it, if they paid close attention. He
bet it was written on his face that he was a murderer. Therefore, he did everything he could
not to be seen. Ever.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, he pushed
his silky dark curtains opened and he forced himself to get up. He felt like someone
imperiused him. He moved and acted as normal as possible but he did everything
mechanically, purely on instinct and his voice never came out of his mouth anymore. He
wasn’t functioning anymore. His brain too mushy and wrecked to let him exist.

He moved to his wardrobe to take his uniform out and, by the time he closed the door,
another door slammed behind him. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t make a move, actually. He
kept sorting his clothes as to prepare himself for a quick shower. When he turned on his
heels, he noticed Blaise was there. He always was. He followed him around like his shadow.
Draco could barely look at him. His presence was overwhelming and he wanted him to stop.
And he wanted him to continue, at the same time. He wanted Blaise to close the gap between
them and hold him, at first nicely and then tighter until tight became too tight and he couldn’t
breathe.

Fuck he wanted to die.

But he wanted to live at the same time. However, he mostly wanted to die. He just couldn’t
be arsed to kill himself neither these days. He barely had any energy to spare on anything
anymore.

Now he had the whole story, he understood better what had happened in the hospital wing.
He understood what it was about, the way Blaise had looked at him… It tore Draco to shreds.
Because Blaise was his best friend and yet, he’d looked at him with such unusual look on his
face that left Draco perplexed for days.

Now, he knew.

He knew why he’d looked at him like that and he knew why he’d appeared to be so agitated.
Why he never came back after leaving the hospital wing. Blaise had seen the monster Draco
kept hidden within, that ugly part of him he was afraid of, and he’d hated the sight of it. He
was probably disgusted, put off and hostile to him because of what Draco had done. It made
sense. He fucking hated himself, too.

He could tell Blaise was trying to act like everything was normal but he failed miserably. It
was written all over his face, even days later. There was always that look in his eyes that he
carried everywhere and it made Draco feeling utterly miserable.

Speaking of looks, his best friend shot him a complicated one, one which transcribed way too
many emotions to be perfectly readable. Draco couldn’t decipher it as always these days – he
hated that, too. Because Blaise used to be the easiest person for Draco to read and now…
Now it was all gone. So he didn’t really try to read him – the failure of the attempt hurt more
than being left in the dark in regards of whatever the heck Blaise’s eyes meant to say. He
barely laid his eyes on him before he walked to the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Blaise asked timidly.

Draco shot him a look and nodded before he busied himself with his clothes. Blaise pursed
his lips and nodded too in acknowledgement before Draco entered in the bathroom. He didn’t
come out for at least thirty more minutes. When he did come out, Blaise was still there,
sitting expectantly on Draco’s bed, waiting for him patiently. He walked passed him without
paying him any attention and he took his tie he’d left on the mattress before he slid it under
the collar and began to tie it.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, lately,” Blaise said, his tone offering but not pushing.

I’m here for you , Draco read between the lines.

He appreciated it but he didn’t know what to say. Was there even something to say? He didn’t
think so and even if there was, he wouldn’t find the words to say it. Therefore he stayed there
and he finished to adjust his uniform before he put on the jumper on top of it, the Slytherin
crest highlighted by the shades of grey and white Draco sported – whether it was his
complexion, his hair, his eyes or his clothes, everything was a fair shade. He took the collar
out of the jumper and he fixed it so he wouldn’t look like an idiot and he checked himself in
the mirror of the wardrobe.

In the reflection of the mirror, Draco saw Blaise was looking at him with intent – he wouldn’t
have noticed if only he dared to look at himself but he only ever caught glimpses of himself
lately as he preferred checking himself out through his peripherical vision. Blaise looked like
he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Relatable, he thought. He neither
couldn’t put words on anything these days.

“Did they tell you what happened?” Blaise asked quietly.

Draco ignored him because he very much didn’t want to talk about it and he kept arranging
his outfit. Now his clothes were smoothed, his shirt tucked in his black trousers and his tie in
place, he busied himself with his hair which he dressed patiently. He had no idea why he
bothered with something as shallow as his appearance. Scratch that, he knew why . He didn’t
want the monster to be visible on the outside so he made sure to look presentable and clean to
a non-trained eye. He couldn’t let people see how ugly he was, inside.

Blaise sighed softly but he said nothing else. One last glance shot Draco’s way, Blaise walked
to his bed and he took his things out to go to the first class of the day after breakfast. León
and Theo entered in the dorm when Blaise closed his trunk and they busied themselves with
their schoolbooks too, lost in a conversation about muggle science which was obviously led
by León. He felt a pang in his chest as he listened to him talking about atoms and electrons.
He loved listening to him ranting about science. He really freaking loved it and yet, not even
León’s voice managed to cheer him up because he knew they were not talking anymore and
because he was too miserable for that to even be enough to make him feel better.
Draco turned around to hide his face which was constricting a bit, muscles twitching as he
tried to pretend like everything was fine. He opened his trunk and he looked through it to find
his Transfiguration schoolbook. The door opened behind them but once again, Draco didn’t
turn around. He didn’t care.

“Out,” Severus said to his three room-mates who ran out immediately.

Severus closed the door behind him and he walked up to Draco immediately. He looked in a
hurry but Draco still took the time to close his trunk properly before he turned around, his
book tucked under his arm.

“I have to talk to you,” he said.

Draco stared at him, blankness coating his face like a second skin despite the way his
stomach churned and spasmed violently. He felt himself stiffening, too. He really hoped his
godfather wasn’t about to talk about the things he’d done during the last full moon.

“The Dark Lord has great expectations for you. I gathered that much during the last meeting,”
he began slowly. Surprise crossed Draco’s face. He definitely didn’t expect to talk about the
task, as though he’d been given it a life time ago and it wasn’t something he had to care about
anymore. “I have been thinking about a way to get you out of the mess you made when you
asked for a second task,” he explained.

Ah, right. Killing Dumbledore. Maybe he could do it now. Was it how it worked? Did killing
once meant it was easier to do it twice? Merlin, he hoped not, for his sake. He shuddered
violently at the thought. No. He couldn’t kill that old man, no matter how vile and
manipulative he was. Though maybe if he let the wolf take care of it for him, maybe then it’d
work. Maybe he’d fulfil his task. Thinking about the wolf made him and sick and he almost
heaved.

Merlin, it was such a mess.

“It took me long enough but I know how to make sure you’re not going to receive the Mark. I
have been thinking about it for a while and I know how to make sure it wouldn’t happen,” he
said and Draco’s eyes shone with curiosity. “You said you’d receive it if you killed
Dumbledore. Those are the terms of your deal with the Dark Lord. So I found a solution: do
not kill him. Let me handle it. Act as though you were going to do it but when the day will
come, when will come the time to assassinate him, I’ll cast the spell and I’ll stop you before
you could prove yourself,” he said.

Draco frowned slightly. Could that actually work? He wasn’t sure. It sounded a bit risky. His
doubts seemed to cross his face because Severus spoke again.

“I know you’re scared with everything that happened but I need you to pull yourself
together,” he said sternly. “My help will mean nothing if you’re not being convincing enough
to fool the Dark Lord. I will not risk my life if you’re not willing to risk yours, too”

Draco stared at him blankly and replied nothing. Severus did too and a staring contest began.
Several moments passed and finally, Severus sighed.
“We’ll have this conversation when you’re in a better mindset. In the mean time, find
convincing lies to feed the Dark Lord with when he’ll ask about your tasks during the next
meeting”

Severus said nothing else and he turned on his heels, admittedly limping a bit, and he closed
the door behind him. Draco couldn’t find his voice but his eyes prickled again. The sight of
his limping godfather reminded him that the man had been the one lurking him away from
the castle over the last full moon. He knew about Draco’s secret. He had been there. It was
very likely he’d seen him killing that poor student that found themselves wandering in the
school at the wrong place at the wrong time. And it was likely he’d hurt him, too.

Swallowing past the lump forming in his throat, he cleared it with a guttural noise and he
snatched his stuff harshly before he exited the dorm. There was no way he would ever forgive
himself for what happened.

No way.

His classes ended shortly after four in the afternoon and, despite the great plans he’d
thoroughly thought about before making, he found himself discarding those to the bin and
changing the trajectory of his day because he couldn’t breathe in the castle.

He knew, now.

He knew who he’d killed and he was an utter mess. It’s not that the person he killed was
someone he liked – though, of course, that didn’t justify killing them either way to be clear –
but it upset him to no end because he hadn’t been prepared to hear about it. It sort of came
out of the blue, in a way he had not expected and his knees had been wobbly during the
whole class as he tried not to breakdown for two whole hours.

Everything started when he’d entered in the Potions classroom. He’d been stirring the potion
Lavander and himself had begun to work on last week when Regulus came up to him and
asked him whom he wanted to be paired up with “considering everything”.

Draco didn’t understand at first and so Regulus told him about her death. Everyone thought
she’d been killed by a wild animal living in the forest – that was the official version that had
been given to everyone – but he knew the truth and it had made him sick. He tried to hide it
during the class but in front of the blatant silence, Regulus had no choice but to make the
decision for him and he got paired up with Weasley and Harry of all people.

Harry had glanced at him in concern the whole time and it only made it harder not to
breakdown here and there. As soon as the class had been over, he’d left precipitately, almost
running away from the dungeons. He loosened his tie and he rushed outside as he tried his
very best not to let his emotions overflowing when his vision blurred with tears.

He walked for a while aimlessly. He wasn’t even sure where he wanted to go, to be honest.
He just felt the urge to run away. His breathing was loud, forming thick little clouds in the
cold as he breathed out and his feet shoved the powder snow with each steps, creating a very
visible path through the white blankness spreading all over the school land to indicate the
direction he’d taken to whoever who would like to follow him.

His tears froze at the corner of his eyes because of how cold it was and his nose quickly
flushed. He wanted to bring his scarf up his nose and bury his face in it as much as possible
to keep himself warm but he also needed to breathe. It came in pants, every exhale more
painful than the last since air rushed in his lungs in big quantity and was too cold. It left a
taste of blood in his mouth and he hoped he would pass out or something – anything not to
feel like this again.

His feet took him to the edge of the forest where the trees danced in the wind like dark
shadows, the vegetations so prominent it was impossible to see through the curtains of
snowflakes falling nor the fog and the trees. He didn’t know where he was going but he knew
he was going there. He sniffled – because of the cold and because of the sadness – and he
kept breathing in and out as effectively as possible to prevent the panic attack to become too
overwhelming.

The path forked before his eyes and he didn’t think twice before he walked deeper into the
forest. It took several minutes before he reached the clearing where the sun pierced through
the clouds and the immense trees standing taller than the sky itself, scraping the stars with
their branches.

It was the most luminous place, here. Looking at it, it felt like it was somehow warm, too.
Draco was no fool, though. He knew it was an illusion. The sun wasn’t warm today, it hadn’t
been in ages. Still, the sun rays falling over the clearing caused the snow coating the floor to
shine like a sea of crystals.Somewhere on his left, Draco felt something coming closer and he
groaned loudly in sheer despair.

“Stop it!” he growled as he hit his stomach. “I don’t need your fucking warning! Shut up!
Leave me alone!” he told the wolf despite he knew it was useless.

Basically, anything related to the wolf made him sick these days, even those abilities he’d
grown to love because he knew his instincts wouldn’t be half as sharp as they were if not for
the wolf and it made him feel outrageously angry at himself. He wanted the wolf gone. He
hated it. His body clenched forcefully and his face distorted, pure rage igniting his irises as
he stared down at himself.

He knew the wolf was sleeping within, waiting for the next moon to cause chaos and he hated
it. He felt like he was sheltering a bomb waiting to explode. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes as
he sank his nails into the flesh of his stomach beneath his shirt and robes.

“I hate you,” he growled, wetness thickening his voice. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
he shouted while scratching his skin manically.

His nails were not half as sharp as the wolf’s claws were so he didn’t injured himself nor did
he draw blood but he scratched himself over and over, leaving his skin raw and angry just
like he felt. His tears were falling freely in cascade, espousing the sharpe of his jaw as they
tickled down his chin. He was sobbing but he kept shouting at the wolf, his voice strangled as
he choked on his sobs.
He felt the urge to open himself up, ripping his skin in half and dragging the sleeping creature
twisting his insides out of him. He was sobbing and panicking. Never before had he hated the
wolf so much but today, he’d do anything to kill it. To free himself from it and break free
from the chains tying him to the moon and the wolf.

“There must be a remedy, right? There must be! It’s not the eighteenth century anymore!” he
had said in a rush, the first time he woke up at the shack.

“I’m so sorry, I’m afraid there isn’t any,” Remus had answered pitifully.

No remedy. No cure. He was stuck with it. From the day he’d been bitten to the day he’d die,
his fate and the wolf’s were linked.

He fell to his knees, too defeated to stand any longer. His knees hit the snow and quickly, his
trousers and robes were soaked as it melted beneath his body heat. Draco stopped scratching
himself, all urges to fight the wolf gone and replaced by hearbreak. He tilted his head back,
tears still falling fast on his cheeks and he stared at the blinding sun.

“W– why? W– why? It’s not f– fair!” But his voice didn’t carry any fight either anymore and
he just sounded completely wrecked under the ruthless gaze of the sun.

He squeezed his eyes tightly and he planted the palm of his hands into the floor. The snow
was freezing and numbed his fingertips quickly but it was soothing too somehow, grounding.
And he kept crying on the floor, his body shaking pitifully under the force of his sobs. His
nose was running, his tears were falling and he was drolling a bit too, mouth gaping in silent
cry as his throat was too tight to let a sound out. His fingers clenched around the snow but he
could barely feel them anymore and it hurt. His body slumped down and he found himself
laying there, on the floor, his cheek printed in the snow as it melted around him.

He remained there for a while, crying in the cold light of the sun and surrounded by the trees
as they circled the clearing. He hugged himself shakily, heart’s growing heavier with each
breath he took. Why did it hurt so much to be alive? Why did things only worsen constantly?

Why? Why? Why?!

His breathing slowed down eventually and, by the time he stopped crying, the sun had
already set behind the clouds, snow still pouring from outer space like stardust, covering his
body as he blended in the background. His heart was still heavy and he felt so dead inside. He
heard some shuffling in the trees again and, within a second, the sound of hooves echoed and
he felt the creature coming closer. He squeezed his eyes shut, tore apart as something tugged
behind his navel indicating him how close the creature was.

If he was lucky, maybe that thing would destroy him beneath its hooves. He almost prayed
silently to whoever would listen for this to happen but he thought better. The soft crunch of
the snow echoed in the quiet clearing as the animal came closer. He kept his eyes closed the
whole time. He only reopened them when he felt something rough and bony nudging his arm.
His eyes fluttered opened weakly, tear-streaked face staring at the skeleton baby horse.
The thestral nudged his arm again and Draco lifted it, opening it up in one identical motion
and he watched as the baby thestral nuzzled him again and dropped itself by his side to place
its head on top of his arm. Draco swallowed hard as the baby animal closed its eyes. Draco
remembered doing this with it, too, when it had needed to be looked after overnight after
León healed it as best as he could.

Relaxing slowly, he circled the thestral with his arms to hold it as he started to cry again
against it. The baby animal didn’t make a move. It made a noise, though. It sounded like it
was whining as it pressed itself against him to comfort him. Draco didn’t move anymore and
he stayed here, pouring all of his sadness into the bony animal as he held it.

He didn’t return to the castle until it was time to eat.

He couldn’t go to the kitchens because it felt like there were more Aurors than there once was
between the walls of the castle, making it nearly impossible to walk across the corridors
incognito. Draco had no energy for a hide and seek game. It’s like they asked for
reinforcement for their troops as to ensure everyone’s safety and Draco decidedly did not
have the same kind of resources to strenghten himself too. It wasn’t a battle he could win.
Reluctantly, he made his way to the Great Hall to eat with everyone.

He found himself a corner at the Slytherin table where no one would bother him and he sat
there. A couple of minutes later, he saw the other Slytherins coming in the room and filling
the space around the table. His friends were among them and he ducked his head, his
shoulders lifted as he tried to hide awkwardly. He really didn’t want to be bothered right now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Blaise seemed to hesitate between sitting at his
usual spot or coming over where Draco was hiding – if we could say that considering he was
still very much surrounded by the crowd. Pursing his lips, Blaise straddled the bench to sit
next to Pansy. Draco released a breath of relief. However, a minute later, as Draco started to
fill his plate – not with much, mind you – a shadow towered over him and he looked up to
find Blaise straddling the bench again, this time to sit in front of him. Draco shot him a wary
look.

“Don’t worry,” Blaise said softly. “I am not here to talk. I just thought you’d enjoy the
company even if we just sit in silence. If you want me to go, just say it, okay?”

Blaise waited a few more seconds, eyes staring into Draco’s as he tried to assess the situation
and see whether or not he should stay. In front of Draco’s reluctance to speak – not that he
did it on purpose – Blaise had no choice but to try and guess his friend’s thoughts. It was less
than ideal but just like Draco had never really struggled to read him, Blaise could see right
through him, too. Therefore, it was easy for him to guess he needed the company, even when
he didn’t know it himself. Blaise hummed quietly and he started to fill his plate too after he
decided it was fine for him to stay.

Draco’s throat tightened and he felt himself relaxing a bit just by his mere presence nearby.
Blaise’s comforting aura was powerful. If Draco didn’t know it already, he would after today
because his anxiety eased a bit as they looked at each other’s in the eyes. Blaise gave him a
small smile which he didn’t return, too miserable to make his muscles work correctly to form
a smile but the sentiment was there, for him too. He was grateful for his friend, even if things
were weird at the moment. Right now, it looked like Blaise was just… Blaise. Like he’d
never seen the dark side of Draco.

Shoving his fork into the mashed potatoes and gathering a few peas too, he finally took a bite
and he felt himself warming up. He was so cold, deep down, and the food was really warm. It
almost felt like a hug. Swallow after swallow, Draco started to feel slightly better. His
stomach twisted painfully as he remembered Lavander would never have that chance again.
The next fork of mashed potatoes was harder to shove down his throat. He put the fork down
and he took a second to stop the bile from coming up his mouth. He was about to pick up his
fork again when he heard someone speaking by his side. It was a conversation between two
fifth years.

“If the Aurors can’t even stop a wild animal from attacking a student then why are they even
here? They are so useless,” a Slytherin snarled while glaring at the Aurors patrolling in the
Great Hall, eyes scanning the room as they looked at the students.

Draco couldn't help but agree as he looked down at his hands, imaginary blood staining his
skin. He rolled his hands in a ball as his fingers clenched around his trousers and he released
a shuddering breath.

“That makes them feel powerful to loom a bunch of teens,” another boy sniggered. “I bet the
ministry must be proud of them. It gives the minister the impression that he’s not completely
useless”

“Well at least it’s one of those bloody Gryffindors who died and not one of us,” a girl replied.

“What I would’ve done to be there and watch that whiny bitch dropping dead,” the boy who
spoke first laughed.

“Okay but imagine being that poor animal. It was probably hungry and all it had to eat was
her. What a pity”

“Can’t say I blame it though. We all wished to kill her once or twice”

“Careful, they’re going to think you’re a death eater if they hear you talking like that,” the
girl smirked as she glanced at the Aurors.

Draco stood up and straddled the bench abruptly, drawing the attention of the three Slytherins
and Blaise onto him. He didn’t say anything but he immediately walked away to exit the
Great Hall. He knew he shouldn’t have come. He knew he wasn’t ready and yet, he still came
and now he was about to be sick. He needed to run away. His heart was pounding loudly in
his chest and he couldn’t even swallow his own spit anymore.

Draco grabbed the handle to go out but two Aurors were blocking his way.

“No one is allowed to leave before the end of the dinner,” one of the Auror informed him.
Draco glared at him, feeling like he was about to implode. He inhaled sharply through the
nose and he tried to grab the handle again because he couldn’t care less whether or not he
was allowed to leave. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t. He needed to escape it and he
needed right now or he might just throw up in the middle of the room. It felt like his stomach
sheltered a stormy sea. The Auror didn’t let him grab the handle, resting a hand on his
forearm to shove him away. Draco jerked away from his touch instantly and he glared at him
even harder, his eyes stormy and tearful.

“Let him go,” he heard his cousin saying.

“Tonks, he’s–“

“I’ll go with him, love. Let him go,” she said gently.

The man seemed to hesitate but he stepped aside. As soon as he did, Draco pushed the door
opened and he almost ran out, Tonks on his heels. Draco’s feet were hammering the floor at
full speed as he made his way towards the closest toilets. The door rattled against the wall
when he entered in and he threw himself in the first cabin before he fell to his knees and he
emptied the content of his stomach.

He coughed and choked a bit, tears springing to his eyes for a whole different reason than the
conversation he’d heard earlier as the walls of his throats were burnt with the acid of his
stomach coming up. He heaved once and then twice before he threw up again, hands
clutching the ceramic toilets.

His knees were pressing hard in the stones of the floor, hurting him, but he stayed there a
moment longer anyway, worried he might be sick again. A few seconds later, he threw up
again and it hurt like a bitch because he didn’t have anything solid left to spit out. He choked
again and, when he was finally done, he coughed and he sat on his arse, back resting against
the wall of the cabin as he panted to catch his breath.

He tilted his head back and he took a deep breath. He felt a bit better – physically, at least.
The weight pressing in his stomach had been lifted and he felt lighter but emotionally? Ah,
the baggages he carried were heavier.

“Feeling better?” Tonks asked sympathetically as she leaned against the door.

Draco glanced at her and he nodded slowly before he wiped his mouth clean on his sleeve.
He stood up and he walked to the sink to rinse his mouth. Then, he splashed water onto his
skin, hoping it’d help to cool him off. He was shaking like a leaf.

“I’ll escort you to your dorm, c’mon,” she said kindly.

“Why are you helping me?” he croaked hoarsely.

“I saw you were in distress. I couldn’t pretend like I didn’t see it now, could I?” she
explained. Draco gave her an undecipherable look. Tonks jerked her head towards the
corridor. “C’mon let’s go the dungeons, yeah?” she said as silence stretched for too long.
 Draco nodded slowly and he dusted his clothes clean before he stepped in the corridor. Tonks
was about to follow him but her robes caught in the handle and when she tried to follow
Draco, she jerked backwards and stumbled before her back collided against the door. Draco
startled and he turned around at the noise. Tonks looked so sheepish as she tried to yank her
robes free that it would’ve been hilarious if only Draco was in the mood. He rolled his eyes
and came to help her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Draco said nothing but he resumed walking towards the dungeons. They made it without any
other disturbances and she left him there alone so he could go to his dorm. He closed the door
behind him, the common room as empty as his dorm. He took a deep breath and he decided
to undress to put on his pyjamas. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

Fuck he hated his life.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he unclasped his robes and he threw them
on his bed. A paper flew out of the pocket and he frowned as he watched it landing at the foot
of his bed. He closed the gap and he knelt to pick it up. He brought it to eye level and he felt
his stomach dropping, complexion blanching as he recognised the handwriting.

Harry.

He had no idea when he placed it there but he knew for a fact that it was him. It wasn’t
signed, it didn’t need to be. He would recognise that handwriting anywhere. He swallowed
hard and he finally focused enough to take in the words written on the small paper.

“Come and meet me at the Astronomy tower tonight. We don’t need to talk but please, let me
be there for you. Obviously, you’re going through something intense and I want to be there
for you. Please, let me in ”

Draco’s jaw worked. He hated the way it made him feel, to know that Harry cared about him
even now. He had killed his friend, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t deserve his sympathy. Besides,
it wouldn’t be too long until Harry would find out he was also responsible for what happened
to Katie Bell. He bit hard on his lip and he made a decision on a whim. He tore the paper to
pieces and he set it on fire. Then, he blew on the small amount of ashes gathered at the
bottom of his bed and he watched them dissolving in the air.

Once it was done, he finished to take off his clothes and he put on his pyjamas and he slipped
under the covers, sheets pulled up to even cover his head. He didn’t go to the Astronomy
tower, that night. Instead, he cried himself to sleep.

Chapter End Notes

Hello!
This chapter signs the end of an era. I inform you that from now on, I won't be posting
weekly on Thursdays anymore because life is being too much these days and I struggle a
bit to write and live in a general way. However, do not worry, I am not abandoning my
fic at all. It just means that I'll write when I'll feel like it instead of pressuring myself
into writing when I don't have the emotional ability to do it. Outsider being one of my
way to cope with life, you can expect several updates per month. That means sometimes
I might post several chapters on the same week and sometimes you'll go a week or two
without an update (I genuinely don't think it'll happen) and sometimes, I'll still post on
Thursdays since it's very comfortable for me to do that. Mostly, I think I'll still post
weekly but I just don't want to feel pressured into writing, you know? So this is me
asking you not to have any expectations.

Don't worry though, it's just temporary. November is a tough month for me and I know I
might not stick to the posting schedule the way I wish so I'd rather let you know in
advance. I make no promises in regards of things going back to normal cause I don't
know how long exactly it'll last. It can last a few weeks, a month or a few months and
since I am not sure I'll be doing better by the time I'll end this fic (we're only 22 chapters
from the end of the first part!) well, I'd rather let you know.

Remember to take care of yourself. Mental health is a fragile thing no one should ever
neglect.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll see you very soon!
 Mighty Friends
Chapter Notes

TW Violence
CW Blood
Mention of past murders
Reference to Suicide/Suicidal thoughts (squint and you'll miss it)

Tuesday 11th of March 1997

“Wake up! It’s just a nightmare, wake up!”

Draco woke up screaming, thrashing, sweating and crying, his breathing coming in pants
loudly as a panic attack broke out before he even had the time to open his eyes. Two hands
were gripping his shoulders firmly as he arched his back into consciousness. He jerked away
from the touch and he sat up on his bed abruptly, feeling sick again.

His face was damp and his throat was raw, probably a reliable indication of how long he’d
been screaming for before someone finally came and put him out of his misery. His dreams
were getting worse. He still couldn’t remember anything but he knew it was about Lavender.
Each time he woke up, his forehead glistening just as much as his eyes, he forgot about the
atrocities he dreamt about but the gut-wrenching feeling remained all day long.

“It’s okay, breathe. Just breathe,” he heard a voice saying but with his brain as foggy as it was
right now, it could’ve been literally anyone talking to him. “You can go back to sleep, I’ve
got him,” the voice said again, sounding more distant now it wasn’t meant for his ears
anymore.

His legs folded lazily as though he couldn’t clench his muscles anymore, too tired to do even
just that. He rested his arms on top of his knees, leaving them dangling there like dead weight
as he tried to catch his breath, his head buried between his legs in a desperate attempt to hide
from the world, to make it go quiet again so he wouldn’t feel harassed and assaulted by
everything still simmering in his head.

His chest was heaving under the efforts it required to breathe, causing bile to come up from
his stomach. He swallowed it down but the whatsoever soothing motion on his back of a
hand rubbing him gently only worsened the feeling. He didn’t want to be touched. He
disgusted himself to no levels, he felt so incapacitated but touch-starved and he had no idea
how to put up with the gentle contact which he felt undeserving of. Out of instinct, he shoved
the person aside and he recognised Blaise’s voice as he dropped on his mattress with a quiet,
muffled noise.
His breathing didn’t improve for over five minutes and when it finally did, his eyes met with
Blaise’s who stared at him, a study in concern, eyes filled with sorrow and lips pinched
downwards. He looked like he was wounded by Draco’s reaction and powerless, unable to
know what to do next like Draco was a wild animal ready to bite. That hurt Draco to no end.

Or maybe Draco couldn’t read his facial expression anymore and so Blaise looked nothing
like that. Maybe he imagined that look on his face and that none of this was real. Maybe he
was even still asleep, currently having a dream in a dream. That had happened before so how
would he know?

Draco had never been older than at this moment and yet he felt at least twice younger than he
really was, fears and need of reassurances intertwined but caught in the vicious grip of guilt
and self-loathing. He had always doubted about everything, that was his speciality but ever
since everything that happened, he realised he didn't know anything at all because he
genuinely thought the day he'd kill someone would never come and yet, it did.

Either way, Draco shivered as he thought about the way his hand had touched Blaise, staining
him like dirty hands on white sheets. He felt his stomach churning at the thought and it
must’ve been transcribed on his face because the look Blaise gave him made Draco’s inside
twisting painfully again, wringing his guts like a floorcloth. He didn’t need his pity or
whatever it was that ignited his orbs weirdly in this not-so-quiet morning.

“Stop it,” he said hoarsely.

“Sorry?” Blaise frowned.

“Stop looking at me like that!” he snapped. “Stop– stop it”

“It’s just that you looked so upset and I–“

“Stop pretending like you care!” he spat. “I know you don’t, so stop it! Leave me alone!”

Blaise looked woefully taken aback, his face distorting further into sadness.

“Pretending? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“I saw the way you looked at me at the hospital wing!” he accused, his voice cracking
already. “I saw it! So stop pretending like you give a fuck anymore when all I inspire you is
disgust and fear!”

“That is not true. Not even close to be,” he denied, shaking his head firmly, jaw clenched as
he tried to see past the anger inspired by the words that escaped Draco’s mouth. “I am not
afraid of you and I certainly ain’t disgusted by you”

“I know what I saw”

“Obviously you don’t because the way I looked at you that day, it wasn’t out of disgust. I was
horrified. Horrified because of the things you were going to have to deal with when you’ll
know. I wanted to tell you what happened but I couldn’t find the words and you looked like
you didn’t remember but I knew at some point you’d know and I didn’t want you to find out
on your own but I know I failed because Dumbledore or whoever told you about it when I
wasn’t around. I just wanted to be there for you. I didn’t know how to be and I’m sorry”

“Why?” he asked, a lump forming painfully in his throat, like a snake strangling a prey. The
thought led him to think of Nagini and he shuddered. “Why would you want to be around
someone like— you know what I did!”

“You’re my best friend,” he said as though it was the most natural thing to say.

“I am a monster,” he retorted, his voice quivering.

Blaise cupped his chin gently between two fingers to force their eyes to meet – since Draco
was clearly trying not to look at him in the eyes.

“I think you’re a lot of thing but a monster isn’t one of them. Never,” he said firmly.

“I– I killed her,” he replied weakly, his eyes shining with a wave of fresh tears.

Blaise pursed his lips.

“I know,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t make you a monster. You didn’t mean for any of
this to happen. You lost the control over the wolf that day, okay? That wasn’t your fault”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, it was”

“Absolutely not–“

“Everyone says that,” he cut him before he could excuse his behaviour further. Draco didn’t
need to be coddled, he needed people to be brutally honest so he could wallow in the deep
ends of his guilt knowing he deserved to. He needed to make the feeling legit. “But the truth
is that if any of this happened it’s because I gave the power to the wolf to do it. I forgot about
the full moon because I never bothered to learn the fucking calendar and I forgot to take my
meds because Remus didn’t send them to me since he couldn’t and– and I– and it led to her
death. So yes, I get it! The wolf did it! It’s its claws which hurt her, its teeth which bite her
but it’s– but it’s because I was stupid enough to let it do it! So do not lie to me. Do not say it
wasn’t my fault when I could’ve prevented this to happen if I had been careful enough”

Blaise stayed quiet for a little while as he processed everything, eyes darting from a spot to
another of his best friend’s face, calculating. Slowly, he nodded and only then he spoke again.

“Okay,” he said. “Alright, you’re right,” he allowed. Draco looked at him, surprised that he
would agree with him so easily. “In a perfect world, you would’ve learned the calendar and in
a perfect world you wouldn’t have forgotten to take the potion. In a perfect world, Lavender
would still be alive and you wouldn’t be traumatised. Yes. But this isn’t a perfect world,
Draco, and you can’t be perfect either. This is just how our reality is and it sucks. You’ve
been going through a shit tons of horrors ever since last June and I– I don’t think anyone
should be allowed to judge you for the mistakes you made along the road. Yes, you relied too
much on Remus but it’s because he made you feel safe enough to do it. You trust him and
he’s always got your back. That was not stupid of you to trust him with this considering
everything”

“Blaise–“ he said, a tear rolling down which he wiped quickly.

“No. I am not done,” he said gently, his fingers brushing against his knuckles. “You needed
someone to take care of you and Remus seemed to do it just fine. It was only natural for you
to expect it to last forever considering who your parents are. You haven’t been showered in
love and care, not really. It makes sense you jumped on the first occasion to know how that
felt,” he said.

“But I killed her… Because of that, I killed her,” he cried.

“Yes,” he said after a hard swallow. “You killed her. But it wasn’t your fault. None of this is
your fault. You never asked to be bitten and if you had a healthy environment in which you
could bloom into a perfect werewolf back home, then we both know your parents would’ve
taken care of you during the full moon. The thing is, you don’t have anyone but Sirius and
Remus to accompany you during the full moons because your family sucks and they’d rather
poke their eyes out than be actual good parents for once,” he said. A short pause. “You
endure this situation, you have no control over it, remember?”

“What about Katie Bell?” he challenged wetly. “How could you possibly excuse what I did to
her? I know you know about it. I’m not stupid. There’s just no good explanation as to why I
did what I did to her and now she’s probably going to die”

“You don’t know?” he asked, surprised. Draco shot him a confused look. “She’s fine. She
should be coming back to Hogwarts in a couple of days now she fully recovered,” he told
him.

Draco gasped softly and a wave of relief washed over him as something clenched within
loosened and he felt instantly better. He didn’t realise how much it had stressed him to know
he’d caused her so much harm. He’d thought it wouldn’t mean anything if she ever died
because of what he had already done but now, he knew deep down that he’d only ever hoped
for her full recovery. He was shaking like a leaf again as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Blaise reached out for him but at the last second, he took his hand back as not to touch him
since Draco rejected him earlier. Seeking for comfort, Draco threw himself at him, arms
circling his neck as Blaise’s caught him in his arms quickly. His hands disappeared in Draco’s
back as he rubbed him gently.

“Thank Merlin for that,” he croaked.

“She’ll be alright, from now on,” Blaise breathed in his ear. “You don’t have to worry about
her anymore”

“I still hurt her,” he swallowed.

“You did,” he didn’t deny.

“I tried to break the spell, you know? I really tried and I think– I think it’s probably what led
her to get hurt,” he explained guiltily.

“Why did you do it, Draco? In first place, I mean”

“I– I don’t know. Bella gave me the necklace and I had no idea how to turn her down after
that because I have this tas–“ he snapped his mouth shut before he could say it as he realised
Blaise wasn’t supposed to know about that.

“Yeah, I know. You’re meant to kill Dumbledore,” he filled the silence. Draco pulled away
from his arm and he looked at him.

“How do you know about that?”

“Pansy told me everything since you never did it yourself but she thought you’d need as
many people supporting you as humanly possible and who could possibly support you better
than your best friends?” he asked.

Draco swallowed and he sniffled a bit.

“Right”

“What I don’t understand is why you gave the necklace to Katie Bell of all people?” Blaise
asked as he refocused on the main topic.

“I– I don’t know. She was the first to come in the toilets,” he swallowed. “I didn’t mean to
hurt her. I just couldn’t find a way out after Bellatrix gave me the necklace and I know it was
pure cowardice to give it to somebody else so they’d do the dirty work for me but I couldn’t–
I couldn’t give it to Dumbledore myself. I couldn’t resolve myself to– to…”

Blaise made a noise of acknowledgement but he said nothing else about it. Instead, he
changed the topic.

“Potter’s been asking about you a lot, you know?” he said gently.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

He hummed and nodded.

“Yeah. He sounds like he genuinely cares about you”

Draco shook his head – to deny it or chase away the new wave of emotions? He didn’t know.

“It doesn’t matter”

“Why?”

“Because soon he’ll know what I’ve done and he’ll hate me. It’s only a matter of time before
our alliance blows up”
“Your alliance? Is that all that is to you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I mean… Yeah?”

“It does sound more important, to him,” he said softly. “And I think it means more to you too
considering you’ve been meeting with him at the Astronomy tower every night for months,”
he supplied.

Draco blinked.

“How do you–“

“You said it yourself, I’m sneaky,” he smirked. “I didn’t even try to spy on you. Information
just sort of came to me. In this case, it was Granger who mentioned it,” he said.

Draco looked down at his lap, biting on his lip as his heart beat a bit faster. That was true.
He’d met with Harry at the top of the Astronomy tower even before they decided to
become… friendly. He even called him by his name now. Surely, Blaise was right about this
– it was annoying how he was constantly right – but that didn’t mean he was wrong. Harry
would hate him. He knew it. There was no point of hoping he wouldn’t because he would.

“Draco?” Blaise called, seeking for his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said as he refocused. “It doesn’t matter what this is anyway. There’s no way he’ll
want me around anymore when he’ll find out,” he said quietly.

“Give him the benefit of the doubt. He looks pretty smitten,” he gave him a small smile.

Draco didn’t think he deserved it, to be honest.

“Blaise?” he asked quietly after the silence stretched for a bit.

“Yeah?”

“There’s… I–“ He released a shuddering breath. “I can see the thestrals, now”

“Pansy mentioned, yes,” he said quietly.

“It’s because of those kids”

“What kids?” he frowned.

“Back at the manor, over the hols… Yaxley and Dolohov they– they killed… They killed a
few muggleborns. They were so young,” he bit on his lip. The eyes of the little girl that had
been tattooed behind his lids, following him everywhere ever since it happened appeared in
his head again. He squeezed his eyes shut before he continued. “I could’ve done something
and I chose not to”

Blaise looked at him but he said nothing, his fingers resumed stroking his knuckles though.
“How does that not make me a monster?” a tear caught in his eyelashes and he wiped it
before it rolled. “No matter what I do, it’s like I never make the right decision”

“Was there even a right decision that day?” Blaise asked truthfully.

Draco huffed a humourless laugh.

“I suppose not,” he cleared his throat. “But things keep happening around me, because of me
and I never do the right thing. What do you Harry would think about this if he knew? He’s
the bloody saviour! And I keep fucking it up royally,” he said.

“Because you think he didn’t fuck up a couple of times too?” he asked. “Draco, the things
you both are going through are quite unusual for a teenager, in case you didn’t notice. Do you
think it’s the kind of troubles people like McLaggen are going through? No. So I bet Harry’s
just as scared as you are and I bet he does feel guilty too for all of the times he fucked up and
all the bumps on the road he couldn’t avoid which led to someone getting hurt like that time
at the ministry when a few Aurors died”

Draco thought back to the only two times Harry opened up to him, showing so much
vulnerability and guilt like Draco rarely saw him expressing. He knew Blaise was right. It
eased him a bit inside but then his brain reminded him of the major difference between Draco
and Harry and he felt suddenly sick again.

“But his fucks up are when he tries to protect people meanwhile mines all take roots in
somebody suffering because of me. It’s highly different. We’re not fighting on the same side”

“Aren’t you, though?” he challenged. Confusion crossed Draco’s irises so Blaise elaborated.
“You don’t look like a death eater to me. You take no pleasure in watching all those things
happening and you have mental breakdown after mental breakdown because of your tasks.
That’s not the behaviour of a death eater”

“But I… I’m going to take the mark you know?” he swallowed harshly. Blaise snorted
bitterly.

“We’ll see about that. In meantime, you’re fighting by Harry’s side and you’re close to Sirius
and Remus which is quite unusual for a death eater”

“Regulus–“

“Is Sirius’ brother and Harry’s father,” he finished immediately, shooting him a pointed look.

“I’m Sirius’ cousin,” he told him.

“That’s hardly the same. I couldn’t give two fucks about my cousins but I’d kill for my
brother. I’d kill for you,” he told him.

“You wouldn’t kill for your step dad though,” he arched an eyebrow.

“Fuck him he can rot for all I care,” he shrugged. “But seriously. Since you mentioned
Regulus, maybe you need the reminder that he isn’t more of a death eater than you are and
yet he does have the mark,” he said pointedly.

Draco opened his mouth, an objection on the tip of his tongue that never made it out. He
sighed and shook his head.

“Fine, forget about Regulus that was a bad example”

“I think it was a great one actually”

“I’m still actively serving Voldemort”

“And you pronounce his name?” he arched an eyebrow as though it made his point valid.
Draco groaned.

“You know what I mean!” he said, frustrated.

“No, I really don’t. Because you’re not a death eater, Draco. You’re the travesty of one, at the
very best. You’ve got nothing in common with those deranged wizards and you’re fighting
against them, even”

“And yet I’m far from matching Harry’s heroism,” he sighed, defeated.

“It’s not about being heroic, in neither of your cases. It’s all about survival, fighting for the
weaker and ensure the world wouldn’t dive into darkness,” he reminded him.

“Harry has no choice though, he’s the boy of the prophecy”

“Is he really?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes. So you see? He didn’t choose that life”

“Neither did you”

“That’s not true,” he shook his head. “I did choose it,” he breathed, head ducking sheepishly
to stare at his laps.

“What are you on about?” he asked, eyebrows twitching in confusion.

“Sirius offered me an out and I didn’t take it”

“What?” he gaped at him, eyes wide. “Why is it the first time you mention it? And why the
fuck did you turn him down?!”

Draco shrugged weakly. “My mother wouldn’t leave my father so I didn’t– I didn’t want to
leave her there”

Blaise deflated, exhaling slowly but rather loudly as his puffy cheeks released air in large
quantity. He rubbed his face, looking suddenly very weary.

“Okay. I understand. I understand why you wouldn’t but things have changed, haven’t they?
You know your mother chose your father over you, over your safety. Surely there’s nothing
holding you back anymore”

“He threatened her,” Draco swallowed. “Voldemort, I mean”

Blaise pursed his lips together and sighed.

“Didn’t you think that maybe if you were gone she’d be safe?”

“Oh yes,” he huffed humourlessly. “Trust me I did. Why do you think I contemplated death in
the eyes multiple times already?” he asked but he barely had the time to finish his sentence
before Blaise smacked his head. “Oi!” he said, jerking away.

“You’re an idiot!” he hissed. “I didn’t mean like killing yourself, dumbass!”

“Then what?” he frowned.

“Just… I don’t know. You said Sirius offered you an out. Is it still on the table?”

“I– I don’t know but–“

“Draco, if you’re out of your mother’s hair, Voldemort wouldn’t use her to pressure you
anymore. He wouldn’t kill one of his loyal supporters just to have you back when you mean
little to nothing to him. You’re just a mean, one he can easily replace,” he said bluntly. “Ask
Sirius if that’s still a possibility. Surely your mother would be safer with you away”

“But Sirius is – he’s into hiding right now,” he swallowed.

“What about Remus?”

“I–“ he closed his mouth. “I don’t know if he would…”

“Just ask him then. Get the fuck out before this goes too far. It took a toll on your mental
health and I’m genuinely scared for you”

“I don’t know how to…”

“No, you’re scared that’s different”

“Voldemort has expectations for me. He wouldn’t let me go so easily. That’s wishful
thinking”

“You tried everything else before. What’s the worse that could happen?”

“I could die!” he exclaimed.

“You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t fuck off quickly,” he replied instantly. “That’s not
an argument you can win”

Draco sighed, defeated.

“Fine. I’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll send a letter to Remus soon”
“You do that,” he nodded.

“Hey Blaise?”

“Mmh?”

“Since when are you so adamant that Harry is having it hard, too? I mean, we used to make
fun of him all the time. What’s changed?”

“You don’t laugh of him neither anymore,” he pointed out.

“Because I’ve seen him. I’ve caught a glimpse of the way he feels about everything,” he said.
“What’s your excuse?”

Blaise shrugged.

“You like him,” he said as though it was that easy.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. He knew Blaise like the back of his hand. He could tell when he
wasn’t telling him the whole truth and right now? He was definitely withholding information.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Now I’m going back to bed if we’re done. Because I’m tired”

“Oh Merlin, are you trying to run away from this conversation?” he gasped in disbelief as he
sat on his knees.

“Of course not! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh but you totally are!” he gasped. “Does that have anything to do with your Gryffindor?”

“I will not talk about this without the presence of my lawyer and Pansy’s currently asleep
so… Goodnight,” he winked before he crawled out of the bed.

“Fucker!” Draco said as he hit his leg gently while Blaise left the bed.

An amused smile bloomed on his lips and he shook his head as he stared at the curtains now
they were closed again. What the hell was going on with him?

Sitting his back against the trunk of a tall tree, wind rushing through the rustling leaves which
sang beautifully to the song of winter, Draco took a bite in a red apple after he polished it
against his shirt, eyes locked on a book he’d opened on his laps while the baby thestral slept
by his side. The tiny creature had been playing in the leaves a moment earlier.

Draco loved the quietness of the place. It seemed so peaceful right now, with no nuisances to
disturb the delicious moment he was having with himself. He rarely got the chance to enjoy a
calming moment these days but after another panic attack broke out in the middle of his
Arithmancy classes he had no choice but be escorted to Madam Pomfrey by Nott who stayed
by his side the whole time. Madam Pomfrey gave him a calming draught and suddenly it felt
easier to breathe again. Now, his mind was deliriously quiet and he enjoyed it for as long as
it’d last to read a bit.

His eyes travelled between the book and the thestral every now and then, a small smile
blooming on his lips before he brought a hand to the flank of the animal to pet it gently. The
thestral neighed quietly before it moved to resettle and sleep. It looked like a dog, somehow,
and it was just as comforting.

His eyes left the tiny animal to resume reading and he heard the leaves ruffling behind him.
As always, his guts told him someone was coming closer before he even heard the leaves and
he felt like ripping his skin to take the wolf out. He tensed as he tried to chase away that
thought. No. He wouldn’t think of the wolf. Not right now.

“León told me I’d find you there,” Nott said as he came closer, characteristically casual as he
walked with one hand shoved in his pocket meanwhile the other gripped a branch when he
lowered himself to pass under it.

“León?” he echoed, bemused.

The other boy and Draco hadn’t uttered a word to each other since that disastrous date in
Hogsmeade when things took a terrible turn. He swallowed. He didn’t like thinking about it,
it pulled at his heart strings whenever he did, heart twinging painfully for the friendship they
used to have but that only belonged to the past nowadays.

“Yeah, he saw you when he came to feed the thestrals,” Nott shrugged before he sat next to
him. “What are you reading?”

“The Tombstone of Gyrwendrinch,” he answered without missing a beat.

“Oh, I read it twice already. Did you read the passage where Gwynerth killed her–“

“Shut the fuck up Nott or you’re going to eat those leaves,” he promised, glaring at him.
“Obviously I didn’t read it, you utter knob. I’m page thirty four only!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“If you don’t know something, then ask. Don’t just go around blurting spoilers like a
dickhead”

“I’m so glad I came to see you,” he replied sarcastically and dryly.

“I didn’t ask you to. Now tell me what you want or get fucked”

“Are you sure we’re friends and you don’t actually hate my guts? Cause someday it’s hard to
tell, mate”

“If you didn’t get on my nerves constantly maybe I’d like you more”

“How do I even get on your nerves?”

“Acting like a buffoon all the time certainly does the trick”

“You’re the fucking worst,” he spat. “Do you want to talk about how you’re a petulant child
and how–“

“No, thanks,” he replied dryly. “Just tell me what you want”

“I worry about you”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he retorted with a snort.

“Oh Salazar’s balls! Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Difficult! Acting like a prick?”

“You bring out the worst in me, that’s one of your talent it seems. Not that you have much of
them so be happy with that one”

“I fucking hate you”

“Get lost then”

“Fuck off,” Nott shoved him and Draco felt an amused smile tugging at his lips.

Nott said nothing else and Draco resumed reading quietly. Minutes passed and no one cut
through the silence again, leaving Draco the pleasure to read in the quietude of the clearing,
the thestral still snoring softly by his side.

“I’m sorry,” Nott said.

Draco raised his eyes from his book to glance at him quickly before he looked at the page
again, snorting.

“That’s new”

Nott paid the jab no mind and he continued as though Draco hadn’t talked.

“I know how much you like León. I can tell this affects you a lot, the fact you’re not talking
anymore I mean”

Draco paused at that and he looked up from his book, placing a bookmark there before he
placed it next to him in the leaves. He sighed.

“That’s what happens sometimes. Friendships come and go. It’s no big deal,” he shrugged,
unbothered despite it hurt deep down. He didn’t believe those words one bit.

“A friendship, uh? Is that how we call it?” Nott shot him a look, eyes teasing and amused but
his tone gentle for once, nothing of the harshness he let out earlier transpired in the words he
spoke this time around.
Draco stiffened, adjusting his position until his back was impossibly straight against the
trunk.

“I know you don’t have much friends Nott but generally when two people like each other and
have things in common they build that thing people call friendship. You should try someday”

“Or they build something… more,” he said softly.

Draco’s cheeks flushed, memories of the kiss they shared in that narrow cabin back in the
shop coming back to his head. He rose to his feet defensively, ready to spit venom as he felt
attacked somehow.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Nott,” he spat.

Nott stood slowly, using the trunk to raise to his full height. He was shorter that Draco, barely
taller than Pansy actually but he didn’t seem to be much impressed by Draco’s shadow
scattered over him, darkening his dark blond hair and his blue eyes.

“I am just saying, is all. Why are you taking offence?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

“You know damn well why! You weren’t just saying! You were implying things you know
nothing about and that are none of your fucking business anyway!”

“I literally said nothing. You drew your own bloody conclusions”

“Fucking sh– Just shut the fuck up!” he balled his hands in fists, itching for his wand as his
face flushed even more. “You did say more than you should’ve!”

“I was just trying to be helpful”

“I don’t need your fucking help so stay out of my business!”

“Okay,” he shook his head, looking slightly upset. The audacity of that boy was astonishing.
“I just meant that I was there to talk if you needed it, okay?”

“You can shove your fucking help up your arse!” he snarled through gritted teeth.

“I was there you know? I know how that feels”

“You know shit–“

“Are you going to play dumb a bit longer or are we going to speak in all honesty finally?”
Nott challenged. “I know you’re gay and I know how you feel about León because I’d have
to be fucking blind not to see it. I know you’re hurting Draco. And I know how that feels
because I’ve been there, being in love with someone who wouldn’t return your feelings
fucking hurts. I know. I’ve walked in León’s shoes so I know how he feels. And one day,
he’ll understand that you’ve got the hots for Potter and that’s why you could never really see
him even when he was standing right next to you”
“Shut up!” Draco’s eyes went wide and he shoved him hard. Nott stumbled backwards and
when he recovered he shoved Draco back.

“No you shut up, dickhead! Stop pushing me aw– mph”

Draco shoved his fist to his face before he could finish his sentence and Nott’s head lolled to
the side. He brought a hand to his bleeding lip and he looked in disbelief at the glimmering
hot liquid as it dripped to the floor before he averted his eyes onto Draco instead. He groaned
loudly, the noise rumbling in his chest and he launched himself at him, circling his waist and
laying him flat on his back.

Nott was quick so Draco couldn’t anticipate his next movement despite he saw it coming. A
moment later, Nott was straddling his laps, pining him to the floor and he shoved his fist to
his face, fast. He was wearing his family heirloom and the ring scratched Draco’s face as he
received the blow. He grunted in pain before he escaped him and he blocked the next punch
with his hand, using Nott's weight against him to toss him aside as to reverse their positions.

Draco hit hard and fast, causing Nott to spit blood out of his mouth before he scratched
Draco's face, nail clawing at him. Draco closed his eyes to protect them from Nott’s nails and
when he reopened them Nott swiped up the leaves on the floor to throw them to Draco’s face
who received dust, dirt and dead leaves straight in the face. He lost his balance as he tried to
protect himself and he started to cough, dust filling his airways when he breathed a bit of it,
consequently losing the upper-hand when Nott shoved him back.

Draco grabbed him by the hair mindlessly, out of reflex really, and he yanked back hard. Nott
yelped, being knocked down. He reached out for Draco’s face again and Draco closed his arm
around his throat, tightening his grip.

Nott didn’t play fairly once again and he used magic to cause a branch to fall off the trees
above their heads. Draco had no choice but to let go of him to dodge it and Nott launched
himself at him again, groaning as he threw his fist to his face. Draco’s nose cracked loudly
under the force of the punch and he gasped, air knocked out of his lungs as his nose started to
bleed heavily. Draco’s eyes went wide as he realised his nose was probably broken and he
shot him an incredulous look before he hit him square in the jaw, throwing Nott to the floor
again. This time, when he straddled him, he pressed his knees into his arms to keep him in
place, crushing him under his weight so he wouldn’t move.

He grabbed a handful of leaves and he shoved them in his mouth. Nott coughed them out and
he jerked away though the position didn’t leave much room for that. He managed to free one
of his arm and his hand pressed into Draco’s face to shove him backwards as he struggled to
free himself. Draco didn’t leave him alone for a second so Nott gathered as much spit as
possible in his mouth and he spat at his face.

Draco flinched and then he blinked quickly as his vision blurred weirdly, dark spots getting in
the way as his skin burned around the area of his left hand. He got on his feet and he
stumbled backwards, a hand pressed against his face as he gritted his teeth.

What the fuck?! Since when spit was as toxic as acid, for fuck’s sake?!
That’s when he saw it, the necklace around Nott’s neck. It was a family heirloom too though
this one was made of silver. He growled. He could have hurt himself badly if he had touched
it more than just brushing it – because that’s probably what had happened to cause his hand
to burn like that. He must’ve brushed the poisoned jewellery in the spur of the moment.

He stumbled forward then and he noticed Nott was still on the floor, chest heaving with effort
as he tried to catch his breath. Thankfully, Draco’s skin stopped burning quickly which meant
he didn’t got in contact with too much silver. He dropped himself next to Nott and his limbs
sprawled on the floor like a starfish as he tried to catch his breath too. Blood was smearing
his cheeks and mouth, staining his white shirt as it dripped down and passed his chin.

He was breathless as he stared at the sky. The thestral was still sleeping, unbothered, a few
meters away from them. Draco stared at the clouds and he let the silence stretched for a little
longer. He felt strangely relieved, almost happy. The tension he’d kept within had finally
snapped and now he knew he was doing better than he had in months – better than any
calming draught could’ve made him feel as anxiety faded away with the blood running down
his skin. He swallowed and he felt the thick iron taste in his mouth, coating even his larynx
and he grinned at the sun.

There wasn’t a sound bar for their heavy breathing as they recovered from their fight which
left them boneless. Flocking birds crossed the sky, drawing a V on their way and Draco
closed his eyes to enjoy the sound of the wind. When he opened them again, he felt
extremely relaxed and, finally, he spoke first.

“I think I have feelings for León,” he admitted evenly, eyes locked on the sky as he panted,
still struggling to catch his breath. “But I’m so attracted to Harry and… Everything is a
fucking mess”

Nott’s head turned to look at him and he gave him a cheeky grin, blood covering his usual
white teeth before he laughed breathlessly.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, baby”

“Fuck off. I still hate you,” he laughed.

“Nah. You love me,” he grinned. A pause. “But fuck, it’d be great if you could just talk to me
instead of getting into fights each time there’s something bothering you. If we need to discuss
important matters, it’d be better to do it with all of our teeth but since you can’t use your
fucking words…” he said and Draco laughed again breathlessly.

And yeah, maybe Theo was right about that.

For some reasons, their love language was nasty jabs, sparring match and fights. That’s how
they communicated and yet, Draco loved him to death. Theo always understood more than he
let people know, a perceptive fucker he was. Therefore, he always saw the storm brewing
inside Draco before he even felt it himself and then he’d push his buttons until they’d get into
a fight — which until now had never involved their fists — to relieve some of the tension
building in Draco. Only then, Draco would confide in him.
“Fuck,” Theo sighed. “I think you broke one of my teeth,” he said, palm pressing into his
mouth as he counted his teeth.

Draco burst into laughter at that, genuinely wheezing as he choked on blood and held his
stomach before he turned on his side to look at his friend, sheer happiness on display on his
features. Theo joined him in his laugh almost instantly at the sight and they kept laughing for
a moment longer, covered in blood but immensely happy and relaxed. Paradoxically at peace.

They were so ridiculous.

 Selfishness
Chapter Notes

TW Past Murder
TW Vomit
CW Drugs
Mention of Blood

Friday 21st of March 1997

He felt the grass beneath his fingers, brushing the pads of his fingertips like a mere kiss of
nature, taunting. He was reminded how close he was but not close enough yet of the exile
he’d been craving for. Locking the beast away in a deadly night felt much more like a chore
when his body reacted so little, already lost in the delirious pain crushing his bones and
flesh. He extended his arm stubbornly, not ready to give up just yet but so despaired to reach
out the exit. He never made it. A breath was all he managed before his eyes fluttered and shut
until he’d bathe again in the warm sunrise of a cold, winter day.

No! I have to leave! He thought desperately, fighting for consciousness as it left his body.

But he never did. No, he never did. Days passed since it happened and yet, he was still stuck
there, in the cold corridor of a castle that felt like the shadow of what it once was, bathing
not in the warm sunrise but the impossible hot blood he drew.

Murderer! His mind accused rightfully so.

He stayed here, powerless with only little fight left in him as his body pressed against the
hard stones which by the way weren’t even smooth so some of them were pointy and dug
painfully in the softness of his flesh. He gasped one last time, a silent plea, a prayer he tried
to send to the moon so perhaps his fate would change, but there was no way. Not anymore.
His prayers were never heard nor answered. Left alone was all he was. The time had come
and he couldn’t turn away from his fate. That was how things were, an unmovable circle he
had to experience over and over again until the end of his life.

Darkness took over, leaving nothing in sight for his eyes remained tightly shut. It took a while
before he opened them again, growling from the depth of his chest before he even caught a
glimpse of anything. Blood-thirsty, he was. He wasn’t himself anymore but he could feel the
thirst, the call for blood. He felt it deep and merciless, shattering him to the core with an
incredible strength he found hard to refute. His vision wasn’t like it usually was, coloured of
red blurred edges while almost everything else was black and white. He wouldn’t have been
able to discern his own foot if he had to look for it. Maybe because it was covered in fur.
Maybe.
But it didn’t matter, did it? Because he wasn’t in control anyway. It wasn’t like he could
actually look for it.

Standing on four legs, he knew the wolf had broken free from his hold. He had no way to fix
this, he just had to wait for the sun to shine again. It wouldn’t be so long for him anyway,
considering he was locked unconscious inside the beast the same way he sealed it inside of
him when the moon didn’t shine so bright and full.

The wolf charged at the person standing in the corridor with him. Draco vaguely recognised
his godfather’s figure but he was more of a dark silhouette than a real human being.
Shapeless and dark like a shadow hovering on the walls. However, as the wolf ran full speed
towards Severus, the door that had clicked opened on his right earlier – and was now on his
left – birthed a student as a girl came out of the toilets. The wolf’s target changed abruptly. It
wasn’t going after the professor but the innocent student instead. She was so close. It would
have no difficulty to snatch her like a rag doll and break her neck.

His godfather caught on his intentions instantly, his dark eyes widening slightly and the man
began to run towards the animal, his wand stretched out and pointed at it. He cast a spell
which the wolf dodged easily. He tried to aim again. Too late. In the fraction of a second, the
wolf grabbed the girl by the throat. She didn’t even have the time to yelp before the wolf
dragged her to the floor, fangs digging into the flesh and drawing blood. She fought and
screamed, terrified, but the wolf’s canines only dug deeper into her neck.

The wolf blinked, closing its eyes and opening them again and suddenly the scenery changed.
Draco didn’t recognise the place but he knew the wolf was limping. It was too dark to
distinctly see anything indicating where he was anyway and all he could smell was the thick
scent of blood. Was the moon still shining? Probably, or else he’d be back to his normal self.
Breathless and exhausted, the wolf had no forces left to stand and it collapsed near a pool of
water, smaller than a lake but bigger than a puddle. His fur disturbed the peaceful surface,
producing waves and staining clear water with crimson colours. Blood, dust and dirt slipping
out of the white fur to rest at the bottom of whatever spot of water the wolf had found for
itself.

Draco woke up with a start, bile coming up from his stomach and forming a pool under his
tongue. He shoved the sheets aside, a hand clasped on his mouth to keep himself from
vomiting in his bed and he ran to the toilets, closing the door carelessly behind him. He could
only hope he didn’t wake anyone up as he left his bed so abruptly. He didn’t dare to look
behind him and he knelt in front of the toilets, emptying the content of his stomach as soon as
he did. His hands clenched around the porcelain, his nails digging into it and almost breaking
under the force he applied.

He was shaking hard but the tears in his eyes were only there because of the fact he vomited a
second ago and not because of the dream he had had. He felt strangely empty, emotions too
big to truly form or settle in his carved chest. He sat next to the toilet after he flushed it clean
and he took a deep breath. He cleaned his mouth with a quick wipe of the hand – he was
grateful he slept bare chest – and he took slow breath to calm down. Despite his best efforts,
the sickening taste of blood remained in his mouth.
He had graphic dreams a lot ever since it had happened but it never made it to reality. Not
until today, at the very least. So why did the blood remain in his mouth? He wished he had an
answer for that but he was lacking of one. He pushed on his hands only to get up and he went
to sit in the shower instead. Water poured hard, clattering loudly on the floor of the shower as
it bounced on his shoulders. It was burning. He didn’t care. He stayed there with his head
pressed against the tiles and the water pouring onto his face and turning his skin red and raw.

He didn’t move for hours. Or so it felt as such. As strange as it was, almost drowning in the
shower was comforting because if he could still drown then he was still alive, wasn’t he?
That was twisted, even in his head, but he couldn’t help having that kind of thoughts. It
should be relieving somehow because that meant he needed to feel alive – which was
honestly a great improvement compared to all those times he’d wished he was dead – but it
was cold comfort for if he needed the reminder he was still alive, was he even living at all?

He ducked his head, legs pressing against his chest as he used his knees to place his elbows
there and keep them steady, and he ran a hand in his hair, clearing his face from the water still
pouring mercilessly onto him.

And he breathed and breathed and breathed again.

Hours had passed – they had, he was sure of it – yet he didn’t make a move to exit the
shower. Not once. He’d stay there forever if he could for drowning the memories and
drowning himself were very similar in a way and he needed both to happen to release the
tension in his chest and if the water started to taste suspiciously like salt on his lips then it
was no one problem's but his.

The breakdown he had in the shower remained a secret between he and himself. He had no
idea how long he’d stayed there, choking on water, tears and snot, but when he resurfaced,
his friends were barely emerging from a dream. No one knew about it, not even Blaise. It was
better this way. Since he was ready before everyone, he made the hasty decision to leave
everyone behind for the morning, desiring more than anything to be left alone, and he tucked
his school books under his arm and he left the dorm before Theo could even jump in the
shower – he was always the first to do so in the morning.

His foot took him to his safe place, the one he always ran to when the world became too loud
and overwhelming – like it was since he opened his eyes – and he breathed in and out slowly,
enjoying the burn of the cold air entering his lungs. He sat against a tree and the hardness of
the trunk grounded him just as much as the leaves he touched when he planted his hand in the
floor to sit. He crossed his ankles and he closed his eyes again.

He came here to breathe. Just to breathe before his classes started so life would perhaps
return to how it was. It was wishful thinking, he knew that much, but hope was the only thing
that kept him going these days. He hoped he could never remember about what he did –
though the memories of that night became more and more precise – and he hoped he could
escape the war. He hoped he could maybe visit Remus and Sirius again soon. He hoped the
next full moon would go better than this one. He hoped he’d see his mother again, like he
used to see her and he hoped he wouldn’t be killed in this war.
He hoped and hoped and hoped again.

Some things were easier to have than others, too many required fate not to be against him. It
wasn’t easy considering how bad things had been since now. He gulped loudly and he
reopened his eyes only to find the small thestral coming his way. This time it was fully awake
and it nudged Draco’s face with its nose to grasp his attention. Draco petted it gently despite
the roughness of the animal’s skin which was far from being soft considering it was all bony
and little flesh.

But he kept cajoling it because it seemed to make them both happier. He sought out for that
kind of relief when he came and he felt incredibly lucky to have it in the form of the sweetest
creature he had ever seen. He couldn’t believe he had despised seeing it at first – though it
reminded him of terrible memories that kept assaulting his mind too often to his liking. That
thestral made for the best companion.

The thestral left his side for a moment and he yearned for its presence which fortunately
quickly returned. When it did, the thestral dropped a dead mouse to his feet and he arched an
eyebrow, concealing the wince carefully despite it disgusted him deeply. The thestral neighed
and shook its head before it pushed the mouse closer and Draco caressed its muzzle gently.

“Thanks,” he said and the thestral made a happy noise before it lain by his side.

Together, they remained here, sitting in the leaves while they admired the sunrise. Colours
splashed in the sky like they would on a canvas, blending and blurring the lines between
pink, purple and blue until it was impossible to see where one started and the other ended.
And he breathed again.

To feel alive.

To ground himself.

To ready himself for the day coming.

His classes came and went not as smoothly as he would’ve liked this morning.

First, during his Arithmancy classes, he got all the answers wrong and he even zoned out so
many times, losing track on his lesson. Alas, being one of the rare Slytherins taking this class,
he had no one of his acquaintances to ask for the notes so he remained utterly clueless about
what had been going on for a hour and a half.

Then, during his Herbology classes, he almost set his plant on fire when he exposed it for too
long to the light. Professor Sprout was so pissed that she dismissed him before the end of the
class as she did everything she could to save the unfortunate plant that had been placed in his
care. He despised his own stupidity so much.

Finally, when came the time to go to Potions, he royally fucked up the elixir he was brewing.
Harry refrained from saying anything when he blew up the cauldron and caused the strange
mixture to drop to the floor and make it melt but Weasley hadn’t been so kind as he mumbled
under his breath, accusing Draco of self-sabotage now he had been paired up with them. The
worse was that he couldn’t even deny it because he sort of feel like he had been self-
sabotaging a lot these days. He didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for so long and he
made no progress on either of his tasks. His friends were all worried about him but he talked
to none of them – except maybe Blaise when he had the energy though words were often
superflux between them – and he went back to ignoring Pansy.

Old habits died hard, he supposed. He knew it had hurt Pansy the first time but he didn’t do it
on purpose. He didn’t fancy to hear her telling him how he did everything wrong. He didn’t
have the energy to be lectured nor did he care about it, to be fair. He just wanted to be left
alone but it wasn’t a word Pansy knew well, unfortunately. She didn’t seek for his eyes in the
Great Hall, though. So maybe that was something.

He stirred the food in his plate, staring at it like it had highly offended him. He didn’t want to
eat. He wasn’t sure he could stomach it. He had felt off all day, ever since he awoke, and he
didn’t want to waste such good food on himself when other people would surely be glad to
eat it – and more deserving as well.

He looked up from his plate, grey eyes scanning the room, and maybe it was because he was
used to do this or something but his eyes found Harry’s instantly. He held his gaze and saw
warmth and concern in his irises, even from afar. It was all about the way he pinched his lips
downwards, displeased and sad. And it was in the way his features looked soft but impossibly
tight in the same breath. He could feel it in his blood, shivers running down his spine as he
read so much in those two tiny irises.

Harry cared and he cared too much. He probably always did and now he could see it. Draco
frowned slightly. He didn’t deserve that look nor the fondness setting fire to the orbed-forest
staring right back at him. No. He deserved none of those. He pinched his lips and he looked
down again, not even caring that he lost their silly competition today, before he stabbed the
food and brought it to his mouth just to keep himself busy.

When a thousand owls entered and dropped packages and letters onto the table, he was
thankful for the better distraction this offered. His stomach was churning with each bite and
he didn’t want to eat anymore. He pushed his plate away from him and he unfolded the
newspaper that had been dropped near him. His blood ran cold at the sight of the title and his
throat constricted.“Unprecedented decision: The minister of magic sets a curfew in
Wizarding Britain!” he read in his head. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink if he tried
right now. He opened the newspaper and started to read the article related to the alarming
title.

“Attacks and murders have multiplied these past couple of weeks, alarming the minister of
magic and forcing him into making one of the hardest decision of his career. Indeed, rumours
spread around stating that the werewolves have joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,
becoming one of his most powerful supporters and claiming responsibility for the previous
attacks occurring across the country and beyond borders.

A few days ago, a bloody attack took Hogsmeade by surprise, forcing the Aurors to intervene.
Several injuries have been reported and a blood-curling amount of deaths have been
announced. Despite the ministry best efforts, the werewolves are almost unstoppable, not
even them could fight them properly. “They are faster, stronger, and quieter than any
werewolf we ever encountered until now. They developed the capacity to heal their injuries
with no spells or any cure and they are blood-thirsty. Do not approach them,” the minster
warns.”

Draco’s breath hitched. He knew what that meant. He remembered the conversation they had
had back at the shack when Remus and Sirius feared Greyback was gathering an army of
super werewolves. He finally did it, then. He did it and now they were disseminating the
population. His breathing quickened at the thought and he tried to swallow but his mouth was
impossibly dry.

“On top of the menace posed by the werewolves, many inhabitants in the highlands confirmed
the presence of dementors as they have been spotted a bit everywhere across Scotland
recently. The minister didn’t confirm nor deny those speculations but it seems obvious the
dementors have fallen under the control of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named since the ministry
plainly refused to answer our questions on the matter, preferring ignoring the issue rather
than reassure our readers and the population.

“The war is coming,” told us one of the witnesses of the said creatures. “We can all feel it but
no one seems to really grasp the urgency of the situation. I’m begging you. Please. Do not let
our children crash and burn in this war like the ministry allowed during the previous war.
They are far too young for such calamities.””

Draco put the newspaper down, his face white as a sheet and he grabbed his glass, taking a
long gulp. It was bad. Really, very bad. If what he read was true – which he doubted, out of
fear or hope he didn’t know – then the dementors and the werewolves were about to cause a
lot of new casualties. He really ought to learn how to cast a patronus. That was becoming
vital. When he looked down at his food, his appetite was truly long gone and he gulped at the
sight of it. He pushed it even further and he grabbed his stuff before he left the Great Hall.

He was sitting at the library, his hand scribing down words on a letter which he intended on
sending to Remus after his last class of the day. In this letter, he asked for two favours –
which he genuinely didn’t feel like he deserved.

1. He asked if he could come over Grimmauld Place for the break since it was getting
impossibly closer and he had no intentions on going back home. Not after everything that had
happened. He didn’t think he had the strength to deal with any of the unpacked traumas right
now. He couldn’t focus on that.

2. He asked if Remus would mind teaching him the Patronus charm considering his godfather
had tried and failed times and times again – though it wasn’t his fault. Draco probably just
had no happy memories to hold onto now they had all been tarnished one way or another.

Obviously, he didn’t word his letters like that. No. He used the Marauders’ code like he had
been taught and he made sure not to mention anything that would give away Remus’ location
or the fact Draco had been the one writing the letter. He wasn’t completely stupid.
Then, when he was done, he placed it in an envelop which he sealed and he started writing
another letter – for his parents this time. In this letter, he told them he wasn’t going to come
home for the break, pretexting of needing more time to work on his tasks to make sure both
of them would be completed on time. He had no idea if his parents would read that letter for
what it was – that is to say a poor excuse as not to come back and face the consequences of
his laziness – but he hoped they wouldn’t mention it even if they did.

He had barely tidied the second letter in an envelop and took a parchment out to work on his
transfiguration essay about the risk of performing human transformation when he felt a
presence coming closer, the same nerve always tugging behind his navel warning him. He
groaned internally but even if it hadn’t warned him, he would’ve known because as always,
Harry reeked of dark arts. His nose wrinkled in disgust but he quickly composed himself and
forced himself to stay focused on his school work. However, when Harry dropped his stuff on
the table with no warning, Draco scowled at them and then he looked up, an eyebrow arched.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“I need to talk to you,” he said calmly, his eyes glistening mischievously.

“Fuck right off,” he deadpanned.

“Please?”

“No”

“I know you don’t want to talk so I promise I’ll make it quick,” he said.

“I am not interested in anything you have to say”

“I mean– yes… I gathered,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “But I promise I’m not here to
disturb you”

“You already are,” he said flatly, eyes locked on his parchment to pretend like he was busy
though he wasn’t even writing anymore.

“Sorry about that,” he winced.

And since it was very rare that Harry apologised to him, he decided to stop being a knob-
head for a second.

“Fine,” he sighed. “What do you want?”

Harry beamed at that and Draco’s heart missed a beat. He grabbed the chair and he pulled it
to sit by Draco’s side.

“Thank you!” he said excitedly.

“Take your stuff off my table,” he replied flatly, scowling but Harry ignored him.

“I had a brilliant idea!” he exclaimed, grinning happily.

Draco snorted. “You? Having brilliant ideas? I ask to see”

Draco put his quill down and he leaned back against the backrest, arms crossed on his chest.
He might as well look at him since the other boy had apparently just started and he couldn’t
keep up the act any longer. Harry shifted his weight on one side of the chair to look at him,
legs pressed together and his hand resting really close to Draco’s. He was sitting really close
to him as well and yet he got impossibly closer when he leaned on, elbows pressed in his
thighs. Draco almost flushed.

“No but listen! This is going to be fun!”

“I highly doubt it, I hope you don't mind”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I need help with potions and you obviously need help with DADA! I
could help you, I’m literally the best in our class! That could be a win-win situation”

“I don’t need your help,” he told him before he moved to pick up his quill again just so that
he wouldn’t look at his hopeful eyes anymore. Harry placed a hand on his forearm and Draco
looked at it before he dropped the quill and he found his eyes again.

Damn. He really had no idea what to do with himself.

“You struggle with casting a patronus,” Harry pointed out.

“Hence why I’ll ask Remus to teach me,” he told him.

“Remus?” he asked, surprised.

“He taught you, didn’t he? Surely I’m not stupider than you are. He’ll teach it to me too,” he
scoffed.

“Okay but you can’t cast effective wordless spells,” he tried again.

“I do now”

“They are not as strong as those you cast with your words”

“Oh because yours are?” he challenged, offended.

“Yes!” he nodded.

Draco gave him a dubious look.

“Whatever Harry. I can practise on my own”

“But it’ll be easier if we do it together”

“Your presence at my table is already suspicious enough as it is so can you please fuck off
and stop with this nonsense? I don’t need your help”
“But I need yours,” he said defeated, his body slumping on his chair as he finally took off his
hand from Draco’s arm.

Draco pursed his lips.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I fell behind in potions with everything that happened recently”

“Can’t Regulus give you extra classes?”

“I didn't sign up at the beginning of the year and he can’t give me private classes because of
everything he’s busy doing”

Draco arched an eyebrow. He knew damn well Harry was lying here. He knew because he
doubted Regulus would ever say no to him if he asked which meant he personally required
Draco’s help rather than his father’s. He pursed his lips as he considered it.

Would it be so bad?

He didn’t know but surely that couldn’t lead anywhere good if they spent more time together.
However, if they had the excuse of working on potions together then surely it would be less
suspect than if they studied any other subjects since they had been paired up together –
Regulus’ courtesy. Slowly, he nodded. He wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea or not since
he could barely find the time to study on his own between all the panic attacks and the cries
but he supposed doing this with someone else would make it easier.

“Alright, Harry. But you better try your damnedest because I am not going to lose my time
with you if you don't take this seriously. I have my own stuff to study”

“Thank you! I’ll take it seriously, I swear!” he grinned.

As he looked at him dubiously, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he’d just gotten
himself into when he agreed with this madness. His chest tightened with anxiety as it crept in
but he tried to keep it at bay. One look in Harry’s eyes and he was done for. He looked so
happy now he had agreed. He wouldn’t take it back, considering all the pain he’d caused to
him.

Dread settled in his stomach and despite his best efforts, it wasn’t enough to chase it away.
Why had he agreed with this? Oh Merlin, it’s like he had forgotten for a moment that Harry
would inevitably hate him when he’d find out what he’d done to two of his friends. He
swallowed guiltily and he ducked his head. He didn’t watch as Harry stood up and gathered
his stuff again.

“I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, hopeful.

“Maybe,” he replied with no intention on going there.

Harry gave him a small smile he didn’t even see and he disappeared out the door. Refocusing
on his essay had never been harder after that. How was he supposed to write anything when
he knew what he had just done. Giving hope to Harry and ripping it off of him was cruel.
And not just for the Astronomy tower but also for the extra lessons because he couldn’t face
him without seeing his guilt reflected back at him.

What an idiot he was, in the end.

He was running down the stairs of the owlery, his letters now gone, stitched to the leg of two
different owls – Atlantis and one of the school owl. He figured sending Atlantis to his parents
was the best way to process and so he reached out for Remus with the school owl instead so
that if the message was intercepted, no one would be able to identify it had been sent by him
– he didn’t sign that one.

The wind was blowing still, admittedly slower and gentler than it had been in the past as
Spring replaced Winter, finally. He shoved his hands in his pockets but he felt too hot. He
wondered how he was going to survive through the Summer if his body heat was constantly
high peaked. He probably wouldn’t but that was an issue for his future self anyway. Nothing
said he would still be alive for the Summer so that was probably not something he should
even consider.

He ran a hand in his hair which was growing longer again to his dismay and he untucked a
leaf that lost its way over there on its race against the wind. He flicked it away and he kept
walking, his demeanour cool and uninviting so no one would talk to him. However, since life
had a funny sense of humour, it was precisely what happened when a hand clasped against
his shoulder. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even feel his instinct warning him and
he grabbed the hand on his shoulder without any thought in head before he twisted it in a
painful angle.

“Ah! Fuck let go!” Blaise whimpered.

Draco gave him an unimpressed look as he turned on his heels to face his best friend and he
let go of him. Blaise winced as he rubbed his wrist and he shot him an incredulous look.

“Since when can you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. He had never done that before but he had to admit it was
handy to let his body taking over. It’s the wolf’s doing, his inner voice reminded him and he
scowled, his face hardening at eye sight. Blaise shot him a concerned look but he shook his
head. “What do you want?”

“We’re going to smoke behind the greenhouses. Wanna come?” Blaise asked, cheerful again
as he remembered why he had come and bothered him in first place.

Draco scoffed. “Sure, I dream of nothing but spending time with you guys. Why would I
want to spend the evening alone and brooding, right?” he ironised.

Blaise’s face fell a bit at that and Draco felt bad but not bad enough to apologise.

“I don’t want you to stay on your own”

“I’m not a child”

“No but you’re not fine and you’ve started to withdraw again. I thought it’d pass but
obviously, it doesn’t”

Draco exhaled loudly through the nose, exasperated and he ran a hand through his hair.

“What do you want from me exactly? What did you expect?” he asked, his voice slightly
raising.

“Do not take that tone with me,” he scolded sternly. “I know you hate to hear this but we’re
your friends and I genuinely couldn’t care less whether you feel like brooding or not. I won’t
let you”

“I don’t want to smoke,” he lied flatly, glaring at him.

“It’s fine. Just don’t,” he shrugged. “But you’re coming with us”

“I am not”

“Yes, you are,” he said.

Draco snorted. “And I suppose you think you could bribe me into coming?”

“Actually I thought I’d threaten you, that’s more my style,” he grinned wolfishly.

“You think you can threaten me?” he asked unfazed.

“You think I can’t?”

“I doubt you could,” he said.

“I hid all your signed Quidditch cards. I’ll burn them if you don’t come”

Something passed in Draco’s eyes, something akin to fear, but then he scoffed.

“I know you’re bluffing,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“You wanna bet?” he arched an eyebrow and he was so deadly serious that Draco feared he
might not be bluffing after all. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“You wouldn’t actually burn them,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“I would”

“No”

“That just shows how little you know me,” he winked.

“That’s actually because I know you that I know you won’t burn them,” he replied. “You
wouldn’t destroy my stuff just to force me into coming with you”
“What if I did?”

“I’d scalp you,” he glared at him.

Blaise laughed genuinely at that.

“Hilarious! Now come with me fucker,” he said as he snatched his wrist and walked in
direction of the greenhouse.

“I really hate you sometimes,” he said but there was no bite to his words and followed him
meekly.

“We’ll see how you’ll feel after a spliff or two,” he replied.

“I said I didn’t smoke”

“You’d rather a shotgun?” he replied cheekily.

“What’s that?” he asked, his expression puzzled.

“You don’t know what that is?” he asked with a little chuckle. “Oh, maybe I should let León
show you,” he laughed. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, causing Blaise to stumble with
surprise when he stopped following him. Blaise turned to shot him a look. “What is it?”

“León’s coming?”

“He won’t eat you, you know?”

“No but he might not be comfortable with me being around after… everything,” he mumbled.

Blaise smacked his shoulder supportively. “You worry too much, Draco. He doesn’t want you
to feel excluded from the group. He knows we’re friends and he still wants to be yours too.
He knows you’re coming and he’s cool with it”

Draco highly doubted León would be ‘cool with it’ as Blaise worded it and his eyes showed
his apprehension but Blaise gave him a convincing smile and he pursed his lips, deciding to
trust his best friend on that one. He sighed softly and he followed him to the greenhouse with
no more fuss or resistance.

Pansy and Theo were leaning against the wall talking about something he didn’t catch
meanwhile León and Astoria were lost in a deep conversation about the benefits of the
mandrakes and how they had been useful in history. Draco didn’t understand much to be fair,
he probably missed a thing or two about that conversation because he was too busy staring at
León. Surely they couldn’t be lost in such deep conversation about mandrakes or he should
really reconsider his friendship.

It was the first time in days that he actually saw León – like, really saw him. He wore his hair
in a half bun tonight, a navy bow keeping his hair tied tightly at the back of his head. He was
wearing matching robes, just a shade darker than the bow and deeper than the deepest ocean
Draco had ever seen. It was velvety and he almost reached out to touch the fabric, to feel how
soft it was beneath his fingers. Had it been Blaise or Theo or anyone else, it would have been
fine but it was León and it wasn’t.

When he turned his head towards Draco, he noticed one of his eye was the usual icy blue and
the other was shining gold like hot honey. However, as soon as it met Draco, it stopped
shimmering and blue started to appear in his irises, straining the gold a bit but keeping it
there still – never replacing it completely. Draco gave him a small, awkward wave and León
returned the gesture before he turned around and resumed talking to Astoria.

“Where are Crabbe and Goyle?” he asked as he noticed they were the only one missing.

“They didn’t want to join. They said something about being busy tonight,” Blaise answered
as he sat on a rock and took a spliff out to light it up.

“Oh,” he replied dumbly.

“Draco!” Pansy shrieked as she finally noticed him. She left the wall to jump in his arms –
quite literally since she wrapped her legs around his waist as he caught her, unrolling her skirt
up her thigh. Draco reached out to pull on it so she wouldn’t undress. “Where have you been,
dummie? You’ve worried me!” she said as she landed on the floor again after a quick peck on
his cheek.

“Here and there,” he replied quietly while kicking a pebble.

“Wanna share?” Theo asked as he motioned at his spliff.

“I’m good,” he merely nodded.

Theo nodded before he took a long breath of it, sucking hard. He released the smoke through
the nose and he grinned at Pansy as she came back to his side to discuss whatever they were
talking about before he interrupted.

At first, it was very awkward for him to stand there among his friends and then he
remembered that they were his friends, precisely. It shouldn’t be awkward. Thankfully, Pansy
decided to get everyone to sit on the floor to play a silly game as they shared the same spliff,
passing it around the circle. Astoria denied it every time and so did Draco who passed it
without even bringing it to his lips. He didn’t want to dull whatever he was feeling. He
needed the pain to survive. Also, he was worried about the growing need in his pit – no. Not
a need. A urge. It was immensely more dangerous.

Night settled and they kept playing the same dumb game for a little longer – which basically
consisted in naming someone and then they’d debate about which house they should’ve been
sent to. Sometimes, it was easy. Other time, it was tricky and necessitated a debate to decide.
After a while, they completely stopped playing that and instead they threw anecdotes to the
conversations until everyone started to just share anecdotes about a bit of everything that had
happened recently in their lives. Draco had nothing to say so he kept quiet. None of the
things he could say were made for a fun night.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Pansy said as she passed the spliff to someone else.
“Oh no, last time it didn’t end well,” Theo complained.

“What’s the matter? You’re all spilling about yourselves anyway,” she said.

“She’s got a point,” Blaise shrugged.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” León nodded, his French accent thicker now he was high.

“Draco?” Pansy asked. “You’re gonna play right?”

“I’m not high enough for that shit,” he denied.

“You’re not high at all,” she replied, accusing.

“I know”

“What is it?”

“Nothing”

“Are you scared to put your lips where we put ours?”

“No,” he denied.

He hadn’t even thought about that, to be fair.

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t want to,” he shrugged.

“Why?” she insisted.

“Because”

“That’s not an answer”

“Pans,” he said warningly.

He really didn’t want to hurt her again but he would if she didn’t drop it. Pansy seemed to
sense it this time as she pursed her lips and stopped insisting. She looked upset though. He
sighed.

“I don’t want to feel dull,” he gave her an answer.

A few pairs of eyebrows shot up at that in the circle. He shifted, feeling awkward all of a
sudden.

“What does that mean? You know it’s not actually dulling, it’s just relaxing,” Pansy frowned.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I know”

“You look stiff, if you ask me. You definitely need to relax”

And he did. He so desperately wanted to smoke all those spliffs. He had no idea why he was
punishing himself like that. He knew he could find a sweet release in the smoke invading his
mouth. He knew that could help, just like the chocolates did. But he feared it. What if that
made everything pointless, then?

“Pansy stop it,” León growled in a voice he rarely heard from him. “Don’t force him to
smoke. Leave him alone. It’s really not cool”

“Fuck off Delacour, I am not forcing him!” she denied. “I’m just trying to understand why on
earth he would deny himself such pleasant experience when he clearly needs it and he never
hesitated before today to smoke with us,” she snapped, offended. Her eyes shot daggers at
León who returned the glare just as fiercely.

Draco, on his behalf, bit on his lower lip, feeling silly. He didn’t have any reasons to deny
himself this small treat except his own guilt smothering him. Pansy was quite right about
that, he was never the last one to smoke. He even asked for it sometimes. But his anxiety was
overwhelming and devastating – sometimes even good, paradoxically – he was bathing in it
twenty-four seven. Surely he could take a break. And as he looked at the spliff Pansy was
holding, he felt like he was drawn to it. Like he needed it. Like his urges were stronger than
his fears.

He deserved peace, didn’t he?

No. He didn’t.

But he’d take it anyway because he was selfish like that.

Because he never knew how not to be.

He stretched a shaky hand towards the spliff and Pansy’s eyebrows shot up again but this
time her surprise was a happy one. Blaise placed a hand on his forearm before he could reach
for it and Draco adverted his eyes from her and whipped his head to look at him.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to smoke,” Blaise said softly, his eyes searching. “You don’t have
to because Pansy made you feel like you have to, okay?”

“Yeah,” León nodded. “You don’t have to get high it’s okay. Don’t feel pressure into
smoking”

“I know. I’m not. I don’t feel forced to do it,” he promised sincerely.

“But you said no all night,” Blaise frowned slightly, carefully checking on him.

“I thrive in pain,” he replied in a voice so low that only Blaise heard him. Blaise looked sad
and he dropped his hand slowly, letting go.

“Okay,” he breathed. “If you’re sure”

“I am,” he replied with a stronger voice. “I want to smoke”

And so he did just that, finally giving in his urges. He felt almost instantly better when he
took a long puff. He felt like he could finally breathe again effortlessly like a functional
human being, like it had dislodged something stuck in his chest to smoke. He knew it was
only in his head and he knew that was precisely the danger of it.

Because tonight he didn’t smoke because he thought it’d be fun. He had smoked because he
had needed it, like a feeling gnawing at his insides – a familiar but distant feeling he hadn’t
experienced since he had stopped using the invigorating draught. And it scared him somehow
but he didn’t have it in him to care at the moment as his fears shut down and his mind
quietened for the first time in too long. When he exhaled the smoke out of his mouth, he felt
like a new man.

And that was probably the most dangerous feeling ever, borderline addictive.

Hours later, when his brain floated peacefully in his skull and he felt like he was levitating,
all the weight keeping him down finally off his shoulders, he made his way to the Astronomy
tower because if he’d been selfish about smoking then why not going further and see Harry
on top of everything else?

When he reached the top of the tower, Harry was already there, peacefully stargazing. His
head spun with surprise when he saw Draco arriving and his expression softened in a kind
smile as Draco came by his side.

“I didn’t think you’d come”

“I didn’t neither,” he confessed.

“I’m glad you did,” he said, his smile so genuine he wanted to snog him.

He looked so pretty as always and Draco felt like he was on free fall as he looked at him,
eyes shining so bright they eclipsed even the moonlight. He reached out for his face, brushing
his hair out of his eyes, using only his fingertips before he trailed his fingers down to his
cheek. He looked at him like one would look at a masterpiece in a museum. Harry caught up
on that, if his expression was anything to judge by. Draco didn’t even notice, too lost in his
own world to notice the look Harry shot him.

He looked at the curves of his lips. He looked at the tip of his nose, round and bouncy and
pretty. His eyes swept his face carefully meanwhile Harry froze, his lips parting when
Draco’s thumb pulled at his bottom lip. He looked crafted by a skilful hand, a study of
beauty. And Draco kept tracing his features with his fingers, not even noticing how close he
had brought his face to his to look at him in details.

When his eyes finally reached the top of his face, where the lightning scar formed a blooming
tree on his forehead and down to his temple, streaking his eyebrow like thunder, Draco left
his hand to rest on his cheek. His skin was so soft, he couldn’t help but caressing it like a
piece of silk. And as he stared into the green of his eyes, a promising land Draco wanted to
visit, he couldn’t help but think it might be a heavenly way to die, to die here by his side in a
war none of them ever really wanted and never really understood neither.

His breath crashed against Harry’s skin and he was forced back to reality when Harry placed
a hand on top of his which was still resting on his cheek.

“How much have you drunk?” Harry asked, his voice impossible quiet he almost missed the
question.

He sighed and rested his forehead against him as he slumped a bit, all the tension in his body
leaving him. He felt like a puppet which strings had been cut off – or burnt like his fingertips
did against Harry’s skin.

“I didn’t,” he replied just as quietly.

“You only get touchy like that when you’re drunk”

“But I didn’t drink tonight, I promise”

“So this is… This is genuine?” Harry asked, risking himself to hope. “You’re sober?”

“I’m– I’m high,” he admitted.

“Oh,” Harry answered, his voice sounded weirdly empty as he dropped both his hand and
Draco’s from his face as he took a step back. Draco almost stumbled but Harry steadied him
gently before he let go, never daring to touch him for longer than strictly necessarily. “Maybe
you should go back to your dorm then,” he said gently. “You must be tired”

“I am fine,” he replied. “I don’t want to leave you tonight”

Harry’s jaw clenched and unclenched as soon as it did and he shot him a wary look.

“Okay. Let’s just sit in silence then, before you say something you’ll regret”

“I’m high, not drunk”

“Your tongue loosen with drugs, that’s what my father always say,” Harry said.

“Which one?”

“James,” he replied.

“He’d know about getting high, then?”

Harry chuckled softly.

“He says he doesn’t but he’s been friends with Sirius and I am not stupid, I can smell weed
on Sirius’ clothes sometimes”

“Yet you didn’t smell it on me tonight,” he said.

Harry flushed and he looked so endearing.

“No. I am allergic to pollen,” he rubbed his neck. “I cannot smell anything right now”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” he frowned slightly as he slid against the column since they stayed
inside tonight.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Harry nodded, sitting by his side.

Draco hummed softly and placed his head on his shoulder.

“What have you done today?” he asked, genuinely interested. Harry seemed surprised.

“Uh, well… Not much to be honest. I practised Quidditch with Ginny earlier tonight and I
played with Ron a game of wizarding chess. I almost beat him this time,” he said, his voice
almost enthusiastic.

“Mmh, that’s nice,” he said before he yawned.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to bed?”

“No. I am good here. I want to stay here,” he said quietly.

“Okay. Let’s stay here,” he said.

And the silence stretched for so long that Draco started to fall asleep. His chest rumbled
loudly inside and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t spit out whatever he wanted
to say. He didn’t like keeping secrets from Harry. It felt wrong. He wanted to be honest with
him – actually he wanted a lot of things with him and that’s probably why he didn’t think this
through before he opened his mouth again, worried he might lose him if he didn’t tell him the
truth he carried and buried deep down where it wouldn’t hurt – though it still did like it very
rarely hurt. He was poking at a bruise, hoping to make it hurt less.

He should’ve known better than that. But he didn’t. He never truly did.

“Harry?” his voice came out strained with tiredness.

“Yeah?” he asked softly.

“I killed Lavender,” he said quietly, his eyes fluttering close, too tired as he felt more and
more heavy.

Harry stiffened against him and he gaped at him, his jaw going slack and his eyes looked at
him in horror. Draco couldn’t take it back. Now, it was out. He shouldn’t have come tonight –
not while being high – but maybe self-sabotage was easier when intoxicated. The bomb he’d
contained in his heart, ticking and ticking, ready to explode, had finally been left in the open
and had exploded outside of his body, causing little damage to him at the very least.

Selfish as always.
He didn’t even think for a second of the things it’d do to Harry to hear those words – or he
did, multiple times a day actually, just not tonight. When he reopened his eyes after dozing
off for a bit, Harry was gone, leaving him cold and alone.

That’s what you deserve, his brain reminded him. You did that. You deserve it!

And he believed every words.

 Songs Of Dread
Chapter Notes

TW Rape (nothing graphic, but it's mentioned though it is a massive trigger so I thought
it was more fitting to place it under the TW section instead of Mentions)
CW Underage Smoking
Mention of Past Murders

Monday 24th of March 1997

The full moon was back tonight again. The vicious, never-ending circle was tormenting him
beyond reason. Why couldn’t he have a break? It felt like a month was too short, he barely
had the time to recover after each full moon, it left him scarred and scared, shattered to the
core every time, even when he had the wolfsbane potions – because of the risks Sirius had so
kindly enumerated for him almost a year ago, now.

Wow.

Was it really almost a year ago? In four little months – four little moons, really – it’d be a
year. A year of transformations and pain and scars, a year of changes and a year of
discoveries. So much had happened since he had been bitten. He couldn’t believe eight
months had already come and gone ever since he woke up in a shack lost in the middle of the
most terrifying woodland he’d ever come across, on a shitty couch that was all in all not so
uncomfortable. It was crazy.

A year ago, he would have never thought he’d be here, today. A year ago, he was chasing
Potter – Harry – and his friends across the castle, longing to cause them troubles and
following every single orders given by Umbridge, desperate to prove his credentials and
honouring his family name. All that bullshit felt like a lifetime ago, like it belonged to
somebody else and not actually to him.

When he’d woken on that rattle couch, he hadn't realised that there would've been a before
and an after to that night. He’d thought it’d come later on, after he’d first turn and he’d been
surprised that it never came, foolishly so. Little did he know that it had already happened and
he was living in the aftermath of that night. The bite was time shifting, man shaping and
everything that came after that night was the proof of that.

Because suddenly Draco hadn’t been a Malfoy, birthed in the most prestigious wizarding
family that hadn’t crumpled just yet. No. His name, his blood status and his legacy meant
little to nothing. It still did, today. Because ever since it happened, Draco was the mere
shadow of an obedient boy that was killed that night. He had torn his education apart, block
by block until nothing of it remained and he learned better.
Ah, if his former self could hear the thoughts he sometimes had, begging for disownment and
freedom, submitting himself to the worst ordeal as he’d be forced into living the life of a
peasant, of a– the life of a Weasley, he realised bitterly. There were days he was thankful his
mother’s unyielding devotion to her family kept her from granting his wish but that was just
the fear talking.

When he was alone in his bed, his brain running in circles, chasing and being chased by his
worst fears until the sunlight, Draco came to the conclusion that living like a Weasley wasn’t
the worst thing that could happen to him. Not anymore. Worse, he even thought it’d be
preferable over whatever was going on in his current life.

His request to remain at Hogwarts for the remaining time of the break had been met with
silence, his parents never bothered to reply but he supposed that meant he could actually stay
here. Good. He knew that meant his parents disapproved of his choice not to go home by the
end of the week, but Draco had no qualms left anymore when it came to put himself first. He
couldn’t stand spending two weeks at the manor with everything that was happening there.
The smell of blood had been stuck in his nostrils for weeks, last time he came back from the
break. He wasn’t sure he could stand hearing the blood-curling screams and witness more
people’s last moments on Earth.

He was a coward, turning a blind eye on the situation that made him uncomfortable rather
than facing them, rather than dealing with them and perhaps even help those in need. But he
didn’t know how to be brave these days. It was barely if he could still hold himself together.
As he swallowed down the last phial of the week and the wolfsbane potion coated his throat,
he squeezed his eyes shut and he prayed to wake up tomorrow, living somebody else’s life so
this whole nightmare would finally be over.

He winced, just as he always did when he swallowed the potion, and he brushed the corner of
his mouth clean before he closed the phial and he handed it back to Severus who had come
specifically each day for a week to give him the potion he had brewed himself. Regulus had
been suspicious as to why he needed to use his classroom but his godfather had kindly told
him to fuck right off and Regulus had left it to that.

At least, that was Severus’ version because Draco highly doubted it was that easy to shake off
Regulus when he was suspicious. Draco wasn’t stupid – and neither was Regulus – he knew
it was only a matter of time before the youngest Black would find out about his condition. It
scared him but it was an issue for his future self. Right now, all he had to focus on was the
full moon and it was dreadful enough to overcome all of his fears, desiring not to waste any
energy on other matters than the one at hands.

“Dumbledore is waiting,” Severus told him curtly.

After he tidied the phial in his robes, his face impossibly blank, he laced his fingers in his
back as he placed himself in the door frame and he waited for Draco to follow him. Glancing
nervously at the empty dorm – all of his room mates had been sent away, probably the
common room, while he took the phial under Severus’ supervision – Draco swallowed and he
wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers before he nodded quietly and he walked out of the
door, passing in front of Severus who eyed him all along, even when he went downstairs.
When he entered in the common room, almost every Slytherins were still there. Some were
playing cards, some others were chatting animatedly meanwhile some were gathered in front
of the massive window – useless one at that since no light filtered in but it was just Draco’s
opinion – as they tried to catch a glimpse of the giant squid.

Draco almost rolled his eyes.

He would have, if his heart hadn’t tightened at the sight of León who obviously was standing
among the first years – it always was them who tried to see the giant squid by that stupid
window. He adverted his eyes quickly and when he did, he saw how close Blaise was now
standing.

“I’ll deal with Dean,” he said quietly with a small smile before he squeezed his wrist gently
and he let go to go and sit by Pansy’s and Nott’s side. Draco held his gaze and so did Blaise
as they communicated silently.

“Draco,” his godfather called dryly.

Draco kept their eyes locked a moment longer before he looked away and he followed
Severus out of the common room. The professor’s presence among them today in the snakes
den rose rumours and whispers in its wake.

As the wall closed behind them, Draco heard some of them debating about what had caused
Draco to be taken away by Severus after dinner. He didn’t fear the conjecture. He knew none
of them would have the right answer anyway. People could speak all they wanted, the truth
was far too hideous to be unravelled in front of their innocent eyes.

Snickering to himself – nervousness or actual laughter, no one knew, not even Draco – he
shook his head and he followed Severus. They walked along the corridors in silence,
Severus’ wand stretched and gleaming softly with a lumos promptly cast to chase away the
darkness settling in the corridor.

The days were longer but that didn’t mean they were long enough to push the full moon away
to the edge of the day. He couldn’t wait for the summer to come back, to be honest. The full
moons would come around ten, eleven if he was lucky, leaving less room for the wolf to
cause too much damage – both on his mental health and his body.

His head ducked and his hands shoved in his pockets, robes flying softly behind him with
each step he took, he dutifully followed Severus to the Headmaster’s office. He tried to keep
his head void of any harmful thoughts – he’d raised mental barriers to keep the memory of
Lavender’s death locked and hid away. Each dreams he had had until now had brought back
too many pieces of the puzzle back to the forefront of his mind over the past month and he
was close to have the whole picture now. He couldn’t think of that, not now. Not when
another transformation was imminent.

He remembered the wise advice Remus had given him, all those months ago: always keep the
wolf as calm as possible. He couldn’t be upset, not today. It was too important. Last time he'd
lost control over his emotions, someone had died – because there was no way in hell you’d
change his mind about this. He was convinced the lack of control over his emotions had
reinforced the wolf’s bestiality, leading to Lavender’s death. Otherwise, the wolf would’ve
been tamed, the same way it had been with Sirius that one time he didn’t have the chance to
drink the potion.

He was wrong, of course he was. How could he not be when he didn’t take every settings into
account? He tended to forget he didn’t even have one potion digested, last month. That was,
unmistakably, the biggest difference between those two situations. Not that he’d ever admit it
nor accept it. He loved punishing himself and wallowing in self-loathing.

Anyway, he did his very best to keep the wolf calm today. He meditated, he had a calming
draught and he ate some chocolates as well as raising a few shields to protect himself. They
were not very solid nor strong but they were enough to keep at bay the assaulting memories
from coming and bite him in the arse. It was the best he could do. Maybe that was not enough
but at least this time he did try.

They reached Dumbledore’s office, the golden griffin was staring at them haughtily like it
always did, majestic wings spread but not quite enough to actually take off though it did look
like it was his intention, exactly. Draco looked up to look at it and he had to admit it was a
beautiful piece, very detailed and well taken care of. He whipped his head at the sound of
Severus’ voice.

“Draco?”

“Mmh?” he asked.

“There is something we need to discuss”

Draco looked around him, making sure the corridor was still empty. It was. He looked at his
godfather again.

“What is it?” he asked.

Severus glanced at him sideways before he refocused on the griffin standing proudly in front
of them.

“You mustn’t go back to the manor over the break,” he said, deadly serious.

He shot him a curious look.

“Why?”

“Because,” he deadpanned.

“I’d need more than that as to jeopardise my holidays and potentially my future if the Dark
Lord learns I didn’t come back”

“Use your task as an excuse to stay at the castle”

Pride swelled in his chest at the suggestion. He couldn’t believe he had thought the same way
Severus did but it was only mildly surprising considering he had learned a lot by his side.
Cunning was probably among the things his godfather taught him how to be. Severus turned
three-quarters on his left to look at Draco. His face gave nothing away but Draco knew better.

“I want to know why,” Draco said stubbornly.

His godfather gave him an unimpressed look before he turned to look at the griffin again,
deciding the conversation was over. Draco snorted under his breath because that was a very
typically thing of him to do that. He wasn’t even surprised.

“Cinnamon pie,” he said distinctly.

Then, Severus stepped up on the first stair and Draco did too. They left the leisure of taking
them at the top to the griffin as it spun upwards. They heard voices when they arrived and
Draco’s heart missed a beat because he’d recognise that voice anywhere, even now as it was
distorted by the echo. Severus seemed to pay it no mind and he walked straight into the
office. Draco followed swiftly – not because he wanted to but because he had no idea what to
do of himself otherwise.

“I am very sorry to interrupt, professor,” Severus drawled, sounding not sorry at all.

Harry and Dumbledore looked up from the pensieve standing in the middle of the room and
they both moved as one to check on Draco and Severus as they entered in the room. Harry’s
face looked worried but as soon as he locked eyes with Draco, pure fury ignited his orbs,
concealing the worry he’d read before while his jaw clenched and his face hardened at eye
sight.

Draco knew he should drop his gaze because he was the one responsible for the pain and the
rage painted all over his face but when did he ever make the reasonable choice when it came
to Harry exactly?

With that in mind, he stared into his eyes, green staring right back and it struck him how
green they were, only turning greener with each second passing, certainly growing more
intense because of all the fury simmering in his orbs, to the point they were just as green as
the death curse. Draco’s breath hitched imperceptibly and he wondered for a second if he
hadn’t been hit by it. No. He was very alive yet all the disappointment and hatred he read in
his gaze made him want to be very dead, at this exact moment.

He showed none of it and he stubbornly held his gaze, making it his mission not to let go of
him because at least that was some sort of contact, something Harry gave him. It had been
ages since he last saw him. He returned to the astronomy tower every night, hoping to see
him popping by but he never did. He tried to reassure himself, telling himself he was only
hiding under the cloak, safe from Draco’s eyes but he knew he wasn’t. He couldn’t feel him
at all. That was depressing.

So he held his gaze while the adults discussed about something he didn’t catch, bathing in the
attention he received from Harry despite it wasn’t a good form of it. It was still attention and
he’d take it. Ever since he had blurted out about having killed Lavender, his heart felt lighter
but there were days when he wondered if all the lightness empowering him hadn’t simply
been transferred to Harry who’s heart had grown heavier in the past few days.
Today, as they stared into each other’s eyes, Draco realised it was exactly what had happened.
Selfish as usual, he couldn’t even feel bad about it because he knew Harry would hate him
when he’d find out about it and the faster he did, the easier it was to deal with it. They hadn’t
built something too big, bigger than them, bigger than words just yet. His feelings were
preserved and he could let go of him, let go of their newly formed alliance.

Except he couldn’t.

Eyes in eyes, anger drowning in sorrow, Draco knew he would never know how to let go of
him. He never could. He had resented him for years, feeding the thin flicker of hatred that
bloomed in his chest based on a silly handshake that had never been exchanged until it turned
into a blaze and then, he’d fed it furthermore.

He’d made fun of him, humiliated him and drawn silly drawings to make fun of him – some
he even sent to him just for the sake of it! – and he got hurt by Buckbeak because he couldn’t
stand the way the bird reacted to Harry – as though he was better than him, like he was
worthy and Draco was not – and he sabotaged his potions multiple times just so Severus
would bite his head off and he bet against him during the triwizard tournament after he made
those stupid badges and last year – oh last year… Last year he was at his prime, wasn’t he?
He literally joined the inquisitorial squad just to cause him trouble and piss him off solely to
have a good excuse to watch him and check on him and follow him like his shadow.

Because everything he did, one way or another, was always because of him.

Because he bathed in Harry’s attention like one bathed in the sun. It gave him strength, the
force he needed to go on with his life. Regretfully, he remembered how he even counted
Harry as one of those good things he loved about Hogwarts – not Harry himself, but the
bullying, the constant rivalry and the mutual hatred. Oh, he was a fool wasn’t he? How did he
never realise his whole world revolved around him, that ridiculous Gryffindor who could
barely tie his tie properly and was a complete nutter?

His heart did a complicated thing as he kept staring at him because Harry’s hatred used to be
enough, once in the past, but that was years before Draco knew how that felt to be treated like
a friend, being at the end of those soft smiles and silly jokes, having an insight on the fire
ravaging his heart, always too warm and too brave, too consuming. And now, they were back
to square one. Because he had fucked it up. He didn’t like that. He wished nothing more but
fixing what he had done. It was vital at this point. He felt himself weakening under the hard
glare Harry shot his way, like he was the worst person walking the world.

But right now, there was nothing he could do. The full moon was awaiting for him and he
couldn’t just stay here and fix whatever had been broken – his trust? His heart? He didn’t
even know exactly and he didn’t have the time to hear him out – and even if he had the time
to do so, it wouldn’t be any easy anyway. Because to fix the broken, to fix their new
friendship, Draco would have to be truthful and bare, show him his worst sides and tell him
about the wolf.

For some reasons, he couldn’t. The mere thought was enough to get his knees wobbly and he
felt the urge to run away. What if the things he told him made Harry think ill of him – more
than he already did, that is – and what if he decided Draco was just a waste of time he didn’t
want to bother with? A werewolf didn’t make for the best friend, considering all the mood-
swings and the lies that came with it.

“Potter?” Severus’ voice cut through the tumult of Draco’s thoughts again. Harry didn’t stop
staring at Draco though. “Your presence isn’t required anymore. Go back to your dorm,” he
told him sternly.

Harry looked at Severus this time, his gaze never softening, and then he adverted his eyes
onto Draco once more before he huffed a breath and he strutted out of the office, almost
colliding into Draco before he changed way as not to even come close to him. That stung but
Draco supposed it was fair as he watched him leave.

“Draco,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I’m glad you could join us tonight”

“It’s not like I was given a choice,” he said.

He had no choice but to come if he wanted to spend the full moon with Remus. Dumbledore
took no offence and he grabbed a bowl full of candies which he shoved under Draco’s nose.
Draco looked down at them and then, he arched an eyebrow to Dumbledore.

“I thought perhaps you would fancy a lemon bean,” he said jovially, eyes glistening
mischievously but his tone remaining soft and kind.

“Where’s Remus?” he asked flatly instead, showing no interest for his stupid candies.

Dumbledore chuckled softly in his beard and he placed the bowl back on his desk before he
gestured to the floo.

“He should arrive in a minute or so,” he said.

“Right,” he replied.

He couldn’t help but click his tongue with annoyance. Just as much as he didn’t fancy a
candy, he didn’t fancy staying here and spending more time with Dumbledore than strictly
necessary. The silence stretched for a bit longer before Severus took it as his cue to leave and
Draco and Dumbledore remained there, staring at each other in silence. Dumbledore was
studying him like he always did, a glint in his blue, piercing eyes, meanwhile Draco was
scowling.

Ten minutes passed like that and Draco could see the sun setting, casting a golden light which
clashed fantastically with Dumbledore’s silvery beard. Now that he thought of it, maybe that
was why Draco hated him and was destined to hate him in first place. Silver was mortal to
werewolf, wasn’t it? He huffed a breath at his own silly thought and he looked away.

Green flames appeared in the corner of his eye and he was relieved to find Remus coming out
of it, his tall frame just as lanky as it was last time he had seen him except he looked maybe a
bit thinner, now. His jaw was sharper and his cheeks hollower. What actually struck Draco
was that he was leaning on a cane, this time. He remembered all the fuss back in the shack
when Sirius had suggested he’d use one and concern swirled in his stomach because if he
agreed to, today, then it meant he was probably in pain. Did it have something to do with his
disappearance last month? He hoped not.

“Ah, Remus. It’s good to see you,” Dumbledore greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Dumbledore,” Remus greeted, his voice quite tight and not as cheerful as Draco expected it.
It was definitely different when he talked to Draco, though. “Hello. How are you?” he asked
instantly, a patient smile curling his lips up just a bit.

“I am fine,” he said. “How are you?”

His gaze swiped up Remus from head to toe, checking for new scars or anything indicating
why he would be in pain, right now. He saw nothing but Remus was definitely limping when
he came closer.

“I am sorry we cannot stay a little longer, Dumbledore,” Remus said in a voice that showed
no remorse. “The full moon will arise soon. We have to go”

“I was actually hoping we could talk, the three of us,” Dumbledore said, giving him a
pointing look.

“Later,” he brushed off sharply, his eyes harder than usually, making his eyes look like
burning amber which would’ve just been taken off the fire.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, placing his hands on top of each other. “I shall expect you’ll
visit soon. This conversation is of upmost importance”

“What isn’t?” Remus rolled his eyes and Draco saw the way Dumbledore’s gentle smile
turned tight-lipped and not as friendly as it was. “Come on, Draco. We’ve got to go,” Remus
pressed, placing a hand on his back as he guided him to the floo.

“You will not always escape that conversation. You know it has to come,” Dumbledore said
calmly.

“Not over my dead body,” he swore, shooting Dumbledore a hard glare before he grabbed the
floo powder.

“That is not up to you–“ Dumbledore told him. Remus dropped the powder, pronouncing
distinctly his destination and cutting Dumbledore’s speech before he could form more
sentences. Draco didn’t look at him before he followed Remus swiftly.

He stumbled a bit when he reached the other side and appeared in a curtain of green flames.
The fireplace was a lot more narrowed and small than the one at Hogwarts. Remus secured
his landing, catching him before he could fall and Draco was thankful – once again, he didn’t
say those words. He was ridiculous, wasn’t he? He’d made a mountain of it and now he had
no idea how to climb it to join the top and just fucking say the words. He was so stupid.

“Come with me,” Remus said, taking no offence. “Put on your hood, though,” he suggested.
When Draco looked around him, he noticed they were in Diagon Alley, henceforth at the
sight of every wizards and witches taking a sip in this lugubrious place that was the Leaky –
or some places looking alike. He cleared his throat and he put on the hood of his robes before
he followed Remus out, cold wind rushing in and freezing him to the bone.

“What did Dumbledore want to talk about?” he asked.

Together, they followed a tortuous path leading further away from the wizarding alley and
into the muggle world. Remus looked alarmed, his posture defensive and his hand never
leaving his wand despite it was hidden up his sleeve, the tip clasped in his palm. His eyes
were darting everywhere, on the edge. It made sense, considering the attacks worsened these
past weeks.

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he promised. That didn’t put him at ease one bit.

“Remus,” he said flatly, wearily. It drew Remus’ attention onto him for a tiny second before
he resumed inspecting his surroundings.

“What?”

“Do not treat me like a child. I know things are happening, I’m not dumb. Tell me what this
is about. Why does he want to talk to us about and how am I involved in this?”

“It will not happen so you have nothing to worry about okay?” he said, his eyes scanning the
crowd.

“Remus–“

“I am going to tell you,” he said instantly. “I’m not going to withhold this from you because
you deserve to know but you have nothing to worry about. It’s very important that you keep
that in mind before I tell you because you won’t like it”

Draco frowned. “Okay,” he trailed. “What is it?”

Remus said nothing for a moment and his head snapped to the side as he heard a noise but it
was nothing and they resumed walking. They were walking fast despite Remus was limping.
He looked like he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible despite Draco knew they
had one or two hours before the moon would actually take away their silhouettes and let the
wolves out.

“Dumbledore thinks…” he began carefully. “He thinks you could help us”

“Help you?” he echoed. “How so? Does he not know I’m a death eater?”

Remus flinched at that and he gave him a hard look.

“You’re not, stop saying that,” he hissed before he turned around and refocused on the street.
“We’ll make sure you’ll never become one”
“How? Uh?” he asked, frustrated, his voice rising slightly. “Because so far, no one has done
anything to help me and if it weren’t for me, I would be marked as one of his right now!”

Remus stopped walking brutally and Draco walked right into him. He was tall and strong,
stronger than he looked like at least and Draco felt like he had just entered in a brick wall. He
winced and rubbed his forehead. Before he could recover, Remus grabbed his arm and
dragged him in an empty alley. There, he let go of him and he placed his hands on his
shoulders, bending over slightly to meet his eyes.

“I am sorry. I’m sorry we all failed you even when you asked for our help. But that doesn’t
mean we’re not trying and that doesn’t mean we don’t care neither. We’re working on it. We
really are,” he promised. “And I know it’s a lot for you, I know you’re seeing unfathomable
horrors you’ll never forget about and I know how that makes you feel. I know…” he trailed,
his eyes looking sad and softer than they had all night so far. “And it’s not fair. It’s not fair
that adults around you expect you to be strong when you’re actually just a child and it’s not
fair that you found yourself tangled in that monstrous web. You remind me of Harry
somehow, he neither shouldn’t have found himself trapped in this war and yet here we are,”
he said sadly, then he let go of Draco and he ducked his head as he took a step back and
sighed.

He rubbed his face tiredly, looking older than just in his mid-thirties and Draco couldn’t say a
word. He was a bit stunned by the violence of Remus’ emotions displayed on his face. He
had rarely seen the man looking so sad, so conflicted and so… desperate.

Draco swallowed, unable to find his voice and he watched as Remus’ shoulders heaved and
sagged in a long inhale and an even longer exhale. When he looked up, amber met silver and
they stared at each other quietly for a moment before Remus finally spoke again.

“Dumbledore wants you to join Greyback’s pack, just like he asked of me all those years
ago,” he said, his voice strong as he dropped the bomb onto Draco who gaped him.

“What?” he asked horrified, his voice coming strangled.

“Sirius was right,” Remus muttered, chewing on his lip nervously – or maybe was it out of
anger – and he worked his jaw. “He was right to think he’d use you to win this war because
that’s exactly what he suggested during the last meeting”

“He out me in front of all the members of your organisation?!” he shrieked, his eyes growing
bigger than saucers.

“What?” he asked confused before he realised what he said. “Oh, no. No, don’t worry. I
didn’t mean it like that. He talked to me privately after the meeting and he asked if I would
ask you about joining Greyback’s pack and maybe…”

“Maybe?”

Remus winced, repulsed by the words he was about to pronounce – or maybe was he
repulsed by those he had just spoken.
“Recruit you as a spy for the Order,” he explained. Draco was stunned. Remus placed his
hands on his shoulders again, grounding him into reality. “Hey, it won’t happen okay? I won’t
let him–“

“Would that help?” he asked quietly, his eyes darting as he looked at the tarmac beneath his
feet.

“What?” Remus asked gobsmacked. “No. No,” he growled. “Don’t even fucking consider it!”

“But– but–“

“No!”

“You didn’t answer my question. Would that help, Remus?” he asked, his voice coming out
stronger as he held his ground. Remus shook his head, refusing to answer. “Remus!”

“No!” he snapped. “No fucking way, you’re not doing this! No fucking way,” he repeated as
he let go and took another step back, pulling on his hair. His cane long forgotten on the floor
as he paced, still limping. “No fucking way!” he spat angrily.

“That’s not your decision to make!” Draco said, offended. “I’m not even saying I would do
it–“

“Then what are you saying?!”

“I’m just asking a fucking question! One you never answered to, by the way!” he accused,
scowling.

Remus shook his head again, biting on his lip hard.

“It doesn’t matter because you’re not doing it”

“But would it help, if I did?” he insisted.

Remus blinked quickly and he swallowed down the anger smothering him.

“You’re not doing it!”

“You already said that! Now answer my fucking question!” he raised his voice, getting
frustrated.

“Yes! Probably!” he said, eyes wide. “But there’s not a universe in which I would let you do
it! I’ll never allow it!” he growled. “Greyback is… He’s– he’s fucking sick to the head in a
way you would never imagine! He– he– no! No! You’re not doing it! I’ll protect you from
yourself if I have to but there’s just no way!” he rambled, his eyes getting shinier now. That
sight didn’t sit well with Draco.

“I have nothing left to lose! If this actually could help the war effort, then–“
“Do not finish that sentence,” he growled. “You’ve sacrificed enough! You don’t have to do
that! You’re too fucking young to go through all that! You have no idea what awaits you if
you go down this road!”

“I could actually have a positive influence on the war! I hate that idea as much as you do–“

“No you don’t! Because you don’t know what that means to be his!” he shouted.

“Okay I don’t but that doesn’t–“

“He claims his cubs, Draco! Each and every single member of the pack!” he said as though it
was very important for Draco to understand what that meant.

“I know,” he said.

“No you don’t. He claims them,” he highlighted, few tears spilling on his cheeks.

Draco looked at him, confused. And then, like a tsunami, it hit him all at once. He blanched
and his lips parted as he stared at Remus. Did he mean…? No. There was no way, right? But
the look on Remus’ face, haunted and broken, said it all. His stomach churned at the sight
and he thought he was going to be sick.

“He…” Draco croaked.

“Yes,” Remus said, one of his eyes fluttering around a tear.

Draco took a moment to recover from the shock. He knew Greyback was deranged but it
went beyond anything he’d ever considered. His heart hammering in his chest, Draco
swallowed harshly.

“But Remus I’m so done feeling so useless. I am making things worse all the time. I’m
helping no one right now and Harry hates me again so there’s no way he’ll help me later! I’m
just causing more harm! Constantly more violence and more pain to everyone around me… I
just want to do something good for once”

“Didn’t I make that clear enough? He’s going to rape you, if you join his fucking pack and
he’d do it in front of every-fucking-one! Do you hear me?!” he said harshly through gritted
teeth. Draco flinched as the words came out of his mouth. “Besides, what do you think
Greyback would ask of you? Nothing good could come out of it if you joined him. The few
clusters of Veelas still resisting to Voldemort are going to be decimated and he’s going to
send Greyback to do his dirty work. Would you be able to do it? Get your hands dirty? Take a
life? Because that’s what would be expected of you!”

“Did he…? Did he force you to…?” he breathed, horrified. That was just one more terrible
thing to learn about Greyback, really.

Remus said nothing for a few seconds which felt like an eternity considering the topic they
were discussing. Then, like a death sentence fell abruptly upon a man, Draco was stricken by
the word escaping Remus’ lips.
“Yes,” he replied. His chest was heaving with an uncontrolled panic and another tear fell
from his eyes. He didn’t even try to wipe it off. “During the first war, Dumbledore sent me
away to a pack of werewolves. Greyback killed their leader a few months after I joined it and
I had no choice but stay under his orders as he took control of it,” he exhaled shakily, grief
and sorrow on full display on his face. He looked like he was in pain. “He… He was horrible
and that’s not even covering half of the monstrosity he did to us and to other people. He used
us to serve Voldemort. He would lead us to covens to kill vampires who refused to submit
themselves, inspiring fear and chaos as to force them to stand by Voldemort’s side in this
war,” he said. “And I helped him to do that because I was stuck and I couldn’t just leave the
pack. I had to be banished or killed to leave and Dumbledore thought that being in the same
pack as Greyback was for the best considering he was really close to Voldemort,” he
swallowed.

“Remus…” he breathed as he took a step forward. He wanted to comfort him but he had no
idea how.

Remus wiped his tears off his face and he exhaled shakily again as he tried to compose
himself.

“You can’t join him. I know all too well the ordeal it is to be a member of his pack. I don’t
wish this to my worst enemy”

“Okay,” he breathed. “I won’t. But I want to be helpful,” he said.

“You already are, pup,” he promised, his voice softer now he was appeased by the certitude
Draco wouldn’t do the same mistake he did.

Draco swallowed and he left Remus a moment to compose himself and breathe. While
Remus was busy calming down, Draco walked to the place he’d dropped the cane earlier and
he picked it up to give it back to him. Remus swallowed and gave him a tight smile as he
took it.

“Thanks,” he breathed.

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered.

Remus straightened to his full height and he leaned on the cane before he took a deep breath
and made sure to wipe all of his tears. He sniffled gently and he ran a hand in his hair. Then,
he looked at Draco and he looked like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, like crying
and talking about this had helped lightening the weight on his heart.

“Let’s go, pup. We’re awaited,” he said, sounding exactly like his usual self.

“Are we?” he startled.

“Yep,” he gave him a small, mischievous smile.

Remus gave him his arm and Draco took it before they disapparated together after they made
sure no muggles had seen them. They landed a second later and immediately, the air that
rushed in Draco’s throat and filled his lungs seemed purer and familiar. He grinned to
himself, happy to be back to the shack which he’d missed more than he cared to admit. He
closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the smell of the wild and the vivid green
around him greeted him when he reopened his eyes. He was so happy to be there.

“It took you long enough!” someone said behind him, a grin in the voice.

He turned around abruptly and a genuine smile broke his face when he saw Sirius leaning
against the pillar of the porch, at the end of the stairs. Draco didn’t waste a second before he
closed the gap between them and he enveloped him in a tight hug. Remus watched the scene
with a fond smile as he closed the gap and took Sirius’ cigarettes off his hand before he could
burn Draco’s clothes. He took a puff while these two kept hugging tightly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! You scared the shit out of me! I genuinely thought you were dead when I
read that article!” he said, holding onto him, bathing in his warmth and his scent – woodland,
pomegranate and leather filling his nostrils delightfully. His hand clutched tighter at his
leather jacket.

“It takes more than a few death eaters and aurors to kill me, pup. Have some faith in me,
yeah?” he said jokingly but his voice remained softer and lacked of his usually amusement as
he hugged Draco who let out a delighted laugh. Finally they pulled away and Sirius kept his
hands on Draco’s arms as he looked at him with a smile. “You look like you’re alright,” he
said critically.

“I am. I mean, I had tough days but I feel not so bad today,” he smiled.

He hated when his face did that around people like Sirius – people he never admitted aloud
he loved them basically. He felt stupid and ashamed to be so happy with little restraint but he
couldn’t help it. He had missed Sirius so fucking much. He had missed his black, wavy hair
which he kept in a half bun today and he had missed his smiles and the mischief of his grey
eyes. He had missed him so fucking much.

“I’m going to make some tea while you two catch up,” Remus said as he climbed the stairs,
desiring to have some time alone. Draco couldn’t blame him after the conversation they had
had.

“Okay, love,” Sirius answered. “I cooked the meal for tonight so you don’t have to worry
about it,” he said.

Remus paused at that and he turned around slowly once he reached the top of the stairs.

“You what? Unbelievable, Sirius Black cooked a meal and he didn’t burn down the shack,”
he teased.

“I’ll let you know I’m perfectly capable to cook,” he said and Remus laughed which
ultimately made Draco laugh too as he was bursting in happiness.

“Is it edible?” Remus kept teasing.

“Of course it is!” he said, offended.

“It’s Christmas in Summer,” he continued to tease as he went inside.

“Oh Merlin just fuck off. You know what? No food for you, Moony!” he called from the
porch. Remus laughed and the door clicked behind him. Draco looked at him, amused and
Sirius leaned on to speak in his ear. “I actually set fire to the place but I managed to keep it
under control,” he winked.

“I heard that!” Remus said from inside and Sirius cursed under his breath.

“Fucking werewolf,” Sirius chuckled.

“Oi!” Draco smacked his arm playfully.

“Shut up and smoke,” he said as he tucked a cigarette between Draco's lips.

Draco laughed and let Sirius lighted it up. The man winked at him mischievously and they sat
together on the stairs to share a good smoke. Despite everything that was wrong in this world,
he couldn’t feel it when he was there. Staring at the forest spreading further than the
unknown, he had the feeling that maybe everything would be alright.

A look at Sirius was enough to convince him that it was true as they looked at each other and
burst into laughter, too giddy to keep it inside. Oh, how it felt good to be back here, in this
little bubble he’d made for himself, a safety place he loved coming to when everything felt
like crashing around him. It was a capsule frozen in time, happiness condensed in the shape
of a wooden shack and rotten stairs and green landscape.

He couldn’t help but smile despite he’d been anxious about the full moon for days now.
Another look into Sirius’ eyes and he watched as his worries dissipated in the rising wind.
Whatever he did later in this war, he knew he’d found a home in this place.
 The Bird In The Cabinet
Chapter Notes

TW Deaths
Mention of Past Murder

Wednesday 2nd of April 1997

The break had started a few days ago, on Saturday, and Draco had been able to keep himself
busy all along. He knew he didn’t have much time to work on his task over the break because
he was going to spend the rest of those two weeks at Grimmauld Place, with Sirius and
Remus. After a long talk on the stairs while chain-smoking – well, Sirius did – they had come
to the conclusion that Draco could actually come over because Remus had promised to make
sure everything would be ready for him when he’ll come as to ensure everyone’s safety.

Therefore, he spent record time in the Room of Requirement, partly because he had no one
else to talk to now all of his friends were gone and partly because he wanted to make his lie
as real as possible so he wouldn’t get in trouble later and be accused of lying. Voldemort still
expected results and Draco would do anything he could to make sure he’d get them – with
the assurance that Regulus would be an obstacle to the cause in mind, of course.

When he hadn’t been in the Room of Requirement, Draco had spent his free time with
Regulus who had only left the castle on Monday night so he could still have a private lesson
with Draco before leaving. His occlumency skills had grown considerably these past few
months, ever since Regulus took over Bellatrix and started teaching him, and now his shields
were stronger than ever. Regulus thought he wouldn’t need his help anymore in that matter
when they’ll come back from the break but they still agreed to meet every now and then to
watch more memories in the pensieve.

It felt weird to Draco to watch all those memories he should know about but had no idea
existed until Regulus showed them to him. It sounded a bit crazy to think he once knew him
and was this close to him, he just couldn’t wrap his head around that fact.

Recently, Regulus showed him fond memories like that time they spent in France building
sand castles and the snowmen they made in the garden back at the manor. He also watched
the memories of them in the park, birdwatching together at the sweet age of four as well as
the night they spent in the Potters’ attic where Regulus taught both Draco and Harry how to
recognise a few stars – which Draco knew nowadays only because his mother had showed
them to him when he was a bit older than he was in this memory.

That felt weird to see himself so young and yet already being on friendly terms with Harry. It
felt like watching a parallel dimension somehow. But they were so young and it didn’t last.
From Harry’s point of view, Draco suspected he must’ve thought he had just changed a lot
between the last time they met and a few years later, when they met again in the train to
Hogwarts. He wished Harry had questioned his behaviour further. Maybe he would’ve
understood then, that something was wrong with him. After all, if anyone would’ve noticed,
it would’ve been Harry what with how obsessed with Draco he was.

But he didn’t and Draco spent twelve years of his life thinking he had never met any of the
Black brothers and spent a lifetime hating Harry Potter. He wondered how different things
would have been, if only he didn’t lose his memory. He longed for the answer but he knew it
wasn’t one he would ever get to have. Not in those circumstances. His memories were gone
and there was nothing to do about it.

Or was it?

Because that’s what he had thought until Severus knocked at his door to talk to him. Draco
was sitting on his bed, crossed-legs and studying the pile of papers he had gathered about the
vanishing cabinet. He knew he was missing something as to make it work properly and he
highly suspected it was there, somewhere. He probably missed a detail or some calculations.
Whatever it was, it should’ve been there. Either way, he wouldn’t find out right now because
as soon as Severus opened his mouth to speak, Draco completely forgot about that stupid
cabinet.

“I have informations about your dysfunctional memory,” Severus said, cold and calm as ever,
his hands clasped in his back in a relaxed posture.

Draco shoved the paper aside and stood up from the bed, his hand gripping the bedpost.

“What did you find?”

“Those informations were not easy to get,” he drawled. “And you might not want to hear
them or appreciate any of the things I am bound to tell you. You can still make the decision
not to hear about them, in which case I will handle this personally on your behalf and leave
you out of it. Or… You could find out what happened to you and let me help you in the
aftermath of the revelations I’m making tonight”

Draco eyed him blankly as he tried to weigh up pros and cons. Severus wasn’t one to soften
the truth and if he initiated the conversation with such warning that Draco knew he would
absolutely detest the things he’ll hear. Still. He had been wondering for a while what had
happened and now was the time to find out. He wouldn’t back down.

“No, I want to know. Tell me, please,” he asked calmly despite his heart was now beating
way too fast.

“Very well,” Severus answered, an eyebrow arched – challenging and dubious but not
pushing. He unclasped his hands and he gestured to the bed, inviting Draco to sit again. He
rudely dismissed it by ignoring it altogether and so Severus gave up on that before he spoke
again. “In the course of a conversation with your father, I managed to question him about
your memory loss. I thought that if anyone knew what happened to you, it would be him
considering your mother is unaware about everything on the matter”
“What did you find?” Draco asked, eager to know.

“It turns out your father ordered to Lockhart to take a look in your head and destroy every
reminiscences of Regulus you could have preserved in the safety of your memory”

Draco’s shoulders sagged, defeated. Ha sat on his bed, his head ducked as he looked at his
laps while he processed the information he was given. He knew it was probably what
happened therefore those revelations didn’t come across as a surprise but they surely did piss
him off badly.

He knew Lockhart well enough to know that man didn’t do things in halves, in matter of
memories. If he was the one taking care of it, then surely it meant all the memories were truly
gone, not even preserved in a phial somewhere he could get them back. Sorrow overwhelmed
him quickly and he tried not to look as miserable as he felt. That wasn’t fair, but he came to
notice nothing about his life ever was. It was just one more deception to add to the list.

“Why did he do that? Because Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord?” he asked, looking up at
Severus. “Was that a punishment for me or for him? Did he just use me to get under his
skin?”

“No,” Severus said. “It is much more complex than that, Draco. I am afraid I cannot reveal
the true extend of that conversation to you for it would have disastrous consequences–“

Draco jumped on his feet.

“I don’t care! I don’t care about hating him or whatever bullshit about the preservation of our
family you’re about to serve me! He didn’t have any right!” he said forcefully. “The least you
could do is telling me why he did this to me!”

“That has nothing to do with your family. It is solely about you”

“Henceforth I deserve to know, especially if it is about me!”

“You do,” Severus agreed, still calm. “But I cannot tell you. Not now. I shouldn’t even
possess that piece of information in first place and I think it’s for the best if I don’t tell you
about it. The future depends on it,” he said cryptically.

Draco sobered up at that and he narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of that
conversation. He was sure talking with Luna made more sense that whatever crap his
godfather was spitting.

“What the–“ he started before he closed his mouth. “Severus? How did you get those
information?” he asked slowly, growing suspicious. Severus looked at him flatly, his face
giving nothing away. He stared for a few moments longer before he turned on his heels and
walked towards the door. “Oi! Answer me!”

“There are things that are best left alone. You’ll know about it someday and that’s all that
matters,” he said.

“You said you’ll help me!”

Severus paused at that, his hand on the handle. Slowly, he turned around and shot at Draco an
undecipherable look.

“And I will. Whatever you need, I’ll do everything in my power to provide it to you”

“I need the whole truth,” he insisted.

“Anything but that,” he replied sternly, his gaze growing hard in a warning. Draco knew he
would be scolded if he insisted too much so he left it to it. “We’ll discuss this matter further
at the end of the break. For now, I believe you have places to be,” he gave him a pointing
look before he looked at the stack of papers spread on his bed and then back at Draco again,
an eyebrow arched knowingly.

Draco pursed his lips and since he retorted nothing, Severus left the dorm without further
advice or piece of conversation. Frustrated with this half-truth he’d received today, Draco
kicked the bedpost angrily and he groaned in pain – cursing himself for being so stupid and
impulsive in his anger. That was something he had yet to control. Gritting his teeth and
rubbing his aching foot, he dropped himself on the bed, laying flat on his back as he stared at
the upholsteries covering the ceiling of his bed. He took a breath and forced himself to calm
down, upset with both his father and Snape for keeping so much from him all the time.

He was so done with the way adults around him treated him. They all acted like he was just a
child who would basically need to be protected from the harsh truths and horrors in this
world while simultaneously expecting of him to cause chaos and be violent. They expected
him to act like an adult, making a death eater out of him but they treated him like a toddler.
Almost all of the adults around him, did. That was so fucking frustrating.

Rubbing his face, he tried to soothe himself. He couldn’t feed that anger with that kind of
thoughts – as justified as it was. It would do him no good. So he kept breathing and he raised
mental barriers to keep the anger at bay. It was tough but it worked and that helped Draco to
breathe a little better. Dropping his arms on the mattress again, his hand landed on the pile of
papers and he eyed it from the corner of his eye. Snape was right – no matter how pissed that
made him feel – he had somewhere to be.

He had asked to visit Borgin and Burkes today to check on the second cabinet and see what
was different with the one he’d fixed as to find the reason withholding it from functioning
properly. Sighing quietly, he urged his thoughts to be vanquished by the force of his shields
as he willed himself not to succumb to the torturous and life-ending anger overwhelming him
and dulling his senses. When he felt appeased enough, he grabbed his stack of papers and he
shoved all of them in a folder before he put on his robes and hid the folder in the pockets.

Then, he left his dorm behind and he walked along the corridors to exit the castle. He planned
on using the passageway leading to the shrieking shack where he would then go to the village
to use the floo and disappear in the flames to land in Diagon Alley. Then, Knockturn Alley
would only be next door and he would be free to work on the cabinet as much as he liked.

Following the narrowed path in the cracks of the walls which was the shortest way to reach
the stairs, Draco tried to keep a low profile. Just because it was the holidays didn’t mean the
castle was freed of the Aurors. If anything, it felt like they were outnumbered by them now
half of the castle had deserted to go home. It was a bit disturbing, seeing all those navy robes
flying with the ministry badge pined on their chests.

He was about to turn and take another corridor when he heard the voices of two Aurors in the
passing. He pined himself on the wall and tried to make himself flatter than a sheet of paper
so they wouldn’t see him. Fortunately, they didn’t.

Nothing about walking in the corridors was illegal, especially during the break but Draco
suspected they would be alarmed by the lies he’d speak if he said he was on his way to the
library – they got suspicious for nothing these days, basically jumping on every students they
crossed ways with and escorting them to their destination just to make sure they were
actually going where they said they were heading to. Draco didn’t fancy losing more time so
he cast a spell on his shoes to silence his steps and he used a disillusionment charm to blend
in the background.

When their voices went out of reach, walking too far away from Draco, he decided it was
safe to move again and he slipped outside in the yard where he followed the path up to
Hagrid’s hut. As expected, León was there, laughing loudly with Hagrid about something
Draco didn’t catch. His eyes lingered on him a bit too long. He wanted to make amends and
fix their friendship but he didn’t know how. He'd been proved times and times again that he
sucked with the whole communicating thing. He swallowed and he looked away before he
walked up to the tree. He immobilised it and he slid in the passage, landing in a cluster of
dust which left him coughing so much his lungs burnt.

He wiped his clothes clean, vanishing the patch of dust coating the fabric here and there with
his hands. This time, he didn’t waste his time by taking in the shack like he did the times
before, when he came, and ran upstairs – though admittedly carefully cause he still didn’t
trust those flooded and rotten planks of wood – and he left the shack behind. The sun was
warmer than it'd been in the morning, keeping him warm as the heat started to come back.
Draco lifted the spells he’d cast earlier and he put on his hood instead to protect himself from
being seen.

Unsurprisingly, the village was very busy so it was easy to blend in the crowd. The agitation
of the village was hearable in the distance, from where he was as he had an overview of
Hogsmeade. Families were walking the streets with happy smiles on their faces, chatting and
laughing as they took a stroll. Children shrieked and ran all over the place and workmen were
entering in the Three Broomsticks for refreshment between two shifts at work.

Draco made his way towards the crowd, deciding it was safe enough with the pigsty
animation in the village. His hands remained clenched around the hood of his robes though.
He didn’t want a remake of that one time in Diagon Alley if anyone caught the sight of his
blonde hair. He was getting closer to the Three Broomsticks now but before he could reach
for the door, a supernatural cold spread all over the village, sending shivers to Draco and
basically everyone around him. Now, when he breathed, it formed smoke.

He was immediately alarmed, recognising the signs of dementors coming closer and he went
for his wand. Though he didn’t know how to cast the spell yet, he hoped it might work in the
urgency of a situation. His fingers clenched around his wand. He felt his mood going
downhill, souring more and more as the seconds passed. Unwilling to die here, his feet
started to move on their own accord and they took him further away from the pub. Before he
could make his way out of the crowd, the sky turned darker, eclipsing the sun with black
clouds.

Draco looked up, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he tried to spot where they might surge
from. He didn’t have the time and, just as fast as everything got colder and darker, a wave of
a hundred dementors cracked the clouds like the rolling thunder, hissing a ragged breath as
they launched themselves at the crowd. Draco’s brain shut down and he ran as fast as he
could to escape the attack.

He regretted bitterly coming in the crowd now as everyone around him thought about doing
the same thing and started running for their lives. Long gone were the happy chatters and
laughters, replaced by screams of sheer horror and fear. He could hear his own breathing with
how loud it had gotten in the span of a minute, his feet still hammering the floor. People ran
in every directions, rushing in the alleys as they tried to escape but the dementors had already
pined many people to the floor as they stole their souls through a deadly kiss. Quickly, people
started to fall like flies and corpses were all over the place.

He felt a panic attack rising and then dissipating fast as his survival instinct took over and he
jumped over someone as they fell on the floor in their run. He wished he could say he
hesitated between running or helping them on their feet but he didn’t. He wasn’t a hero, he’d
said so many times and it was the truth. Right now, he just wanted to survive and so he ran
and ran, dodging the dementors and their victims as he watched people getting their lives
sucked out of them. He didn’t have the time to process.

He arrived in a part of Hogsmeade where he almost never came and noticed, horrified, that
there were even more dementors in this part of the village. He tried to back out but before he
could, a dementor appeared from above and he yelped in surprise as those skinny, emaciated
fingers closed around his throat and lifted him off the ground. His heart missed a beat and he
hit the dementor with his wand as it was the only thing he could think of right now – too
desperate and terrified to summon joy in his heart to even try to cast the spell. Despite his
effort, the dementor didn’t let go and even knocked his wand off his hand, causing it to clatter
on the floor.

Draco fought the grip at the best of his abilities. In vain. Before he could do anything really
impacting to improve the situation, he felt his forces leaving him as the dementor started to
give him the kiss. He jerked and tried to free himself but as it kept sucking the life out of him,
he was growing weaker and he knew there was no way out of it. He was going to die here, in
Hogsmeade, a village he had intended on visiting solely for a stupid cabinet he didn’t even
really want to fix. His eyes closed and he waited for it all to end, going limp like a doll
between the hands of a not so caring little girl.

Everything was black behind his eyelids, he perceived no colour at all but those same eyes
that hunted his dreams and he heard distinctly the sound of gurgling and cries, just like he
had all those weeks back at the manor. He was crying silently now, tears spilling on his
cheeks, escaping his notice as he focused on the little girl he could watch staring at him with
lifeless eyes on the floor. That was not real, but it did feel like it was at the time. And it was
absolutely unbearable to relive that memory to the point he wanted to crawl out of his own
skin to escape it.

That was until a very bright, silver light – so bright it even passed through the thin skin of his
lids and chased the memory away – blinded him. He snapped his eyes opened, a stupid reflex
he regretted instantly, and he closed one eye again to protect himself while looking at what
was going on. A silver goat was flooring the dementors as it run fast towards them. The one
holding Draco released its grip and flew away as soon as it was possible to escape the wild
goat and Draco fell on the ground with an exclamation.

He was shaking a bit but all in all, he had avoided the worst of it. Still, the ghost of that little
girl remained stuck behind his eyelids and he felt absolutely devastated as he cried openly on
his knees. The memory had never been so vivid than it had been today. He regularly thought
about it of course, but never in so many details. He forced his mental barriers to come up
again but he felt like it was the hardest thing he had ever had to do and he struggled doing it
properly. He still tried.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he flinched violently, almost falling on the floor again. He
turned around and found an old looking man whose beard was just as silver as his hair was,
blue piercing eyes looking at him. He looked so much like Dumbledore that Draco even
wondered for a second if it was him but he knew it wasn’t. His face was too hard and he
looked too grumpy, too severe.

“You alright, son?” the man asked – almost growled.

“Y– yes, “ he said before he cleared his voice, his eyes still terrified as he stumbled on his
feet. “Yes. I’m fine, sir”

“Mmh,” the man replied unconvinced. “Come inside. I’ll give you some whisky,” he said.

“I’m not legal, sir”

The man mumbled in his beard something Draco didn’t catch and walked towards a pub he
didn’t notice until now. He didn’t follow right away. First, he glanced towards the village to
check on the dementors and he realised with a start that they were all gone. His eyebrows
shooting up on his forehead, he wiped himself clean from the fall he’d suffered earlier and he
followed the man inside the crooked pub. His nose wrinkled at the sight and he wondered
how such structure could even be still standing.

Inside, everything was dark and gloomy, looking like a bunch of dementors headquarter
almost but the fire cracking in the fireplace was nice enough and he made his way towards a
table where the man had poured a cup of tea and a whisky for himself. He fed Draco with
some liquorice which honestly tasted like shit – because he didn’t like the taste of it, not
because of the man’s candies themselves – and he sipped on his tea.

The man wasn’t very chatty and so it was very uncomfortable to stay here while the man
stared at him but he supposed he couldn’t be picky considering the man knew enough about
hospitality and had probably saved his life as well. Draco didn’t dare looking at him in the
eyes. He looked way more intimidating than that old Dumbledore, despite they shared
features. They were related, unmistakably.

When he finished his tea, Draco wiped his mouth clean and he cleared his throat awkwardly
as no conversation had begun at all for as long as he stayed here. He put the cup back on the
wooden table – since the man hadn’t even given him any saucer to place it upon – and he
opened his mouth for the first time.

“I am going to go, now. Thank you for your help as well as your hospitality, sir,” he said.
“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” the man mumbled. “It’s on the house. You almost died after all”

“I can pay for it,” he insisted, feeling uncomfortable with receiving any gift from a man
living in such poverty.

“Oh, I know you can Draco,” he growled. Draco felt himself flushing furiously as he realised
the man knew who he was. “But I have no interest in your money. Just stay safe and don’t
leave Hogwarts anymore on your own. It’s not safe here, anymore”

Draco looked at him dumbly and cleared his throat again, feeling more than awkward.

“Very well, sir. Thank you,” he said.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled.

Draco stood up and he left the pub but not without glancing at the silver goat which was still
floating around. Draco supposed the old man kept his patronus here all the time as to prevent
any dementor attack in the pub. That was smart, he conceded. He would do that too, if only
he knew how to cast that stupid spell. He was glad he had asked for Remus’ help.

Stepping into the street, he went on with his life. He considered going back to the castle but
after what he endured for that stupid cabinet, he decided it would be a shame to have suffered
so much for nothing. So, instead, he turned around and he entered in the pub again. He knew
every pub were connected to the floor for legal reasons. When he entered, the man was
wiping the bar with a wet cloth. He looked up and his eyes were hard as he looked at Draco.

“What do you want now?” he practically growled.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir. May I use your floo?” he asked.

The man looked at him flatly but then his eyes narrowed a bit.

“There’s no floo connected to Hogwarts,” he simply said. “You won’t need it to go back to
the castle,” he added before he went back to cleaning the bar.

“I am not going back there,” he said politely. “I’m going to Diagon Alley”

The man huffed what sounded like a humourless laugh.

“Trading dementors for death eaters,” he mumbled in his beard. “How stupid are you?”

“I just need a new quill–“

“They sell good ones here too, in Hogsmeade,” he gave him a sharp look.

“None of them are like the one I need,” he lied.

“Order it then. I’m not letting you using my floo to get yourself killed,” he growled.

Draco gave him a flat look.

“Fine. I’ll find another place to use the floo then”

The man huffed and jerked his head before he went back to cleaning his pub and stopped
paying any attention to Draco who walked out the door and made his way to the Three
Broomsticks as he had initially planned to. Afterwards, he joined Diagon Alley easily –
though he almost got caught by Arthur Weasley of all people when the man stumbled out of
the floo exactly when Draco wanted to use it but it was fine; they didn’t collide.

Hours passed during which he was intensively focused on the cabinet he was studying,
comparing his observations to the things he had written on his papers about the second
cabinet silently resting at Hogwarts, waiting for him to make it work. None of the owners of
the shop bothered him while he worked and he was grateful for that because he was close to
throw hands. He didn’t think his day could worsen.

After checking on the cabinet inside out and noticing nothing different indicating why the
other one wouldn’t work, Draco felt a bit defeated. He had done everything properly, ran
every tests necessary and used all the diagnostic spells he knew and yet he couldn’t find a
reason why it wouldn’t work back at Hogwarts. And then, as he grew more desperate and
frantic, the answer hit him in the face. He was sitting on the armchair, looking at the cabinet
with intent as he analysed the outside as to see what could possibly explain the dysfunction
since it wasn’t mechanical. His eyes fell on the runes and his eyes widened slightly.

Those fucking runes would be the death of him.

At first, nothing out of the ordinary struck him but then, he realised the runes on this cabinet
weren’t in the same order as the one he’d written on his papers. They were all mixed together
and since there was nothing else different between them two, he supposed the runes were
probably the answer he’d been looking for. He wrote them down hastily and he grabbed his
stuff as he stormed out of the shop to go back to Hogwarts to check his theory.

Almost a hour or so later, he took off the sheet he had placed on the cabinet to protect it from
eyesight and he stared at it, a smirk growing on his lips as he realised he was right. The runes
were not identically placed on the furniture. He grabbed his wand and, after he ran another
diagnostic spell to make sure everything was functioning other than that, he readjusted the
runes, moved them until they were placed where they had to be. His eyes went from the paper
to the cabinet multiple times to make sure he had placed all the runes properly and then, he
took out one of the birds kept in cage and he placed one inside of the cabinet. He closed the
door and took a step back, his wand stretched and pointing at it.

“Harmonia Nectere Passus,” he said, the words rolling on his tongue easily after
pronouncing them so often. It probably wasn’t necessary as the cabinet was repaired now –
hopefully – but better safe than sorry.

Then, the mechanics of the cabinet activated slowly and he waited. When he heard them
activating again, he thought the transfer had happened and it was safe to open it. Technically,
the cabinet wasn’t supposed to make any noise while functioning but Draco supposed it
didn’t matter much since it was hidden in a hidden room either way. It’s not like the death
eaters intended to be quiet anyway.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled on the handle and watched as the cabinet opened. No bird
came flying out of it. His eyes fell to the bottom of the furniture and he swallowed as he
watched the poor bird dead.

It didn’t work, once again.

His jaw clenched and he wondered how many birds were going to die again before he could
make it fucking work. He ran a shaky hand in his hair as the weight of the eventful day
started to catch on him and he felt like breaking down again. A dry sob escaped his lips and
he pursed them to swallow it all down.

No. No, no, no. He wouldn’t cry again.

He straightened to his full height, forcing his spine to straighten as well and he rolled his
shoulders before he inhaled sharply and released the air slowly through the mouth. He
wouldn’t breakdown again. He was so done crying all the time, it was honestly weighting on
him almost as much as the tasks. He wasn’t a whiny baby, he had never been, and yet he’d
just spent a year crying, having panic attacks and mental breakdowns. Now his shields were
stronger than they used to be and his health improved grandly thanks to a few hours of sleep
per days and meals he had, he decided to start bottling it all up inside until he couldn’t. He’d
rather cry all at once than once per day.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he sat on the floor against a pile of shit placed there and he
looked at the vanishing cabinet, hoping maybe it would just tell him what he was doing
wrong. He ran another hand in his hair and kept breathing slowly to control his emotions. He
looked around him as he took a break, deciding he was maybe overdoing and it probably
wouldn’t help his case.

His eyes fell on a key-chain placed on a wooden table. It was nothing fancy, just a little turtle
with shiny rhinestones covering it. Its eyes were alike to two emeralds and it reminded him of
Harry. He couldn’t help but smile a bit before he remembered that Harry hated him – and the
hatred would only keep increasing when he’ll find out about Bell and all the other things he
planned on doing. It wasn’t easy, having a friend on the other side of the war meanwhile
Draco had a foot in each sides. It was hard, even.
He sighed softly and stood up to go and fetch the small turtle. When he approached it, he
noticed there was another key-chain next to it. This one was a raccoon in an identical style as
the turtle. He wondered what those were but he didn’t care much to find out. He picked up
the turtle and he left the raccoon there. His thumb stoked the rhinestones and he looked at it a
bit longer before he placed it closer to him, where he could see it at his leisure while working
on the cabinet.

Since the turtle reminded him of Harry, he liked having it at eyesight considering he couldn’t
have the real version these days. Besides, Harry inspired him good things and made him want
to do the right thing, be a better man. The reminder was useful when we know what kind of
activities he kept himself busy with.

Sitting down again, he stared at the cabinet with intent, deciding the break was over. April
was there and he only had two fucking months to finish it. He couldn’t postpone working on
it any longer. It was just impossible. So he stared and stared again, studying it even more than
he had before. In a few days, he would be with Remus and Sirius which meant he’d lose even
more time to work on the cabinet. He didn’t like working on it but he couldn’t afford not
doing it either.

He had to fix it. And he had to fix it very soon, at best. Hopefully, he’d fix it before leaving
so that was one less problem to care about and he could finally focus on killing Dumbledore
– not that he would try really hard.

His eyes travelled in the room again, too tired to focus anymore on the cabinet and as he
scanned the room, his eyes fell on a mirror which reflected the cabinet. Draco cocked his
head aside, his brain suddenly very alert. He opened his mouth, still thinking hard. He
couldn’t believe he didn’t think of it earlier. He stood up again and he looked at the mirror a
bit longer as he kept thinking.

“I wonder if…” he said to himself.

A twirl of the wand later, he switched the runes so they would be positioned in mirror
compared to the ones at Borgin and Burkes. He watched as they settled in the wood and he
pinched his lips before he walked to the cage where the birds were and he picked one to place
it inside. Taking a deep breath, he activated the mechanism and he waited. He checked the
cabinet and the bird wasn’t there anymore.

Now was the time to see if it worked.

He stared at the cabinet and he activated it again so the bird would come back. He could only
hope he was right. If not, he had probably just killed another bird. Bringing a shaky hand to
the handle, he pulled one it. A moment later, the bird he’d placed inside came out of it alive
and flew to sit on top of a pile, forcing Draco to duck his head so the bird wouldn’t collide
with him.

He let out the brightest smile, a delighted laugh coming out of his lips.

He had finally done it.

He had fixed the broken. He could leave Hogwarts to visit Sirius and Remus with his heart
lighter, knowing damn well Regulus would prevent the attack from happening and he was
now safe from the repercussions that threatened to kill him only a few months ago.
 Out
Chapter Notes

TW Torture
TW Murder
CW Blood

Friday 4th of April 1997

The time was set. Today, at twelve o’clock, he would be in Diagon Alley, awaiting for
someone to come and pick him up to go to Grimmauld Place where he’d spend the rest of the
break, away from the the tasks hanging over his head constantly, a quiet threat constantly
exhausting him at the back of his head.

Today was the day and he was more than ready for it. He’d been waiting all week for today to
come and counting days and hours like a kid before Christmas. His trunk had been ready
since Wednesday night, when he came back to his dorm after fixing the vanishing cabinet.

He was so relieved, knowing he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, that he had
immediately shoved these past few months – which had objectively been hell – to the back of
his head and he decided to focus on the future instead. Not the calamity threatening to come
nor the consequences of the ongoing war, no. He thought about bright days and happy
memories he was bound to make. Something to hold onto during his darkest nights.

These days, the dorm was always empty – not just because his friends had gone home but
also because León always came in the dorm at night, the later the better, and left early in the
morning, leaving Draco on his own company. Therefore, spending time at Sirius and Remus’
would be a nice change to this hostile climate he was forced to deal with, tension growing
faster the ivy snaking around the columns in the castle now Spring was back.

It’s not that he didn’t like it – the loneliness, not the hostility – because he did, he was so
grateful for it even considering he’d been dying to be left alone for months, enjoying the rare
moments of calm he managed to get, but he didn’t like the reasons leading to that decision.
It’s not like he could magically fix that with a swish of the wand however so he had to grin
and bear it until León would be ready to talk. The least he could do was giving him the space
he required.

Standing in front of the mirror to flatten his hair which was waving and growing long again,
he couldn’t help but smile at himself. If you had told him a year ago that he would love
looking so dishevelled and unkempt, he would have hexed the shit out of you. Yet he stared
at himself and did nothing to slick his hair back like the proper pureblood he was meant to
be. He liked the way his hair looked. His mood brightened further when he thought about
Sirius as he looked at himself as they both sported wavy hair.

He knew it was just an illusion, life wouldn’t suddenly become incredible or improve in the
slightest because the time he’d spend with Sirius and Remus was just a break in the misery
surrounding him and he’d have to go back to it but for now, he wanted to be excited about the
prospect of a wonderful week.

He’d been looking forward to spend more time at Grimmauld Place with them and it was the
first time he’d actually stay for a break. Not because he had no choice, not because the full
moon made for a good excuse. No. Just because he wanted to. That made his chest flutter
happily, heart constricting like it was going to burst with joy. He knew that break would be
the first one he had in a while that would be the closest to normality – or more accurately, to
what he was used to have back in the days before his life became a massive mess.

He took the collar of his shirt out of his jumper, the Slytherin crest plain to see on his chest.
He put on his robes on top of it and he clasped it at the front, using the silvery chain –
thankfully it was just the colour, not actual silver. Then, he walked to his trunk and he shrunk
it so it’d fit in his pockets and then, with a twirl of the wand, he made his bed before leaving
the dorm happily.

He had still a bit less than a hour before he was meant to meet with whoever would come –
Draco suspected it might be James, considering Remus was apparently in pain what with the
cane he almost constantly carried around now, and Sirius was still wanted. Therefore, he
decided to go and see the thestral before leaving. He didn’t want to leave without saying
goodbye first as he’d spent a lot of time with him lately.

His feet produced a soft crunch sound in the leaves as he made his way through the forbidden
forest, still energetic and cheerful. He genuinely doubted anything could darken his day and
sour his mood. Not when he felt so good about leaving. He pushed the branch of a tree out of
his way, ducked to pass under another and he straddled a trunk that had been there for as long
as he could remember. When he arrived at the spot he knew the thestral would be, he was
surprised to find León already there, feeding him.

He hesitated a bit. Should he go back to the castle and come later? He didn’t want to impose
and make León uncomfortable. But at the same time, he highly doubted he could come back
later if he left now. There was no way he’d have enough time. Well, it was a shame. He
would just not say goodbye, it seemed. Choosing to flee before he was seen, he tried to
retreat as quietly as possible, he turned his back on the thestral and León.

“You can come if you want,” León said naturally as he finished feeding the thestral. “I don’t
bite”

Draco froze in his steps, startled he’d been caught. He thought he was more sneaky than that.
Slowly, he turned to look at him, unsure.

“I– you don’t mind?”

León rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes I do and I’m a masochist, that’s why I told you to come,”
he said sarcastically, drawing a smile on Draco’s lips.

“Glad to see you didn’t lose your sense of humour”

León chuckled softly and Draco came next to him. Since he was done feeding the thestral,
they remained there in silence as they watched the baby animal playing in the blooming
flowers here and there as the thestral neighed softly. Draco wondered for a moment if that
creature even had a mother. He didn’t recall ever seeing it.

“You look good,” León said conversationally without looking at him, his eyes locked on the
thestral.

“Really?” he deadpanned. “You asked me to come closer to exchange platitudes?”

“I mean… No. I wanted to talk I guess,” he shrugged, rubbing his neck nervously.

“Mmh,” he hummed but no one continued that conversation and the silence resettled.
“You’ve seen Luna today?” he asked as he gestured to the flowers in his plaited hair which
covered only a small length as the rest of his hair ended in a wavy bun.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “She said those flowers matched my eyes”

The flowers were shades of blue and white, exactly like the first time Draco had noticed they
were there. As León looked at him, he couldn’t help but notice both his eyes were blue today
– one was icy blue, as always, and the other one was a deeper blue, almost dark. Sadness , he
realised with regret.

“They do,” Draco agreed.

Silence resettled between them as they remained there, bathing in each other presence, unsure
what to say to build a bridge between them now it had collapsed. It felt awkward and that
made Draco sad. He really missed his friend. He missed hearing about science and things of
the sort. He missed the jokes and the fun time they had. He missed listening to León playing
the guitar and he missed the time they spent together. He missed him.

Was it always going to be like that? Draco was so talented when it came to ruin everything.
He didn’t even mean to, he didn’t think León was so serious about that. He thought he liked
him the way Draco liked him, he never suspected there was more to it. He was wrong and he
ended up hurting a friend after using him for the worst schemes. He had so many regrets but
this one was the hardest to cope with.

He racked his brain to say something witty, anything. Maybe he should even start by an
apology considering he never truly said he was sorry. But apologising was hard. His pride
was a tricky thing that happened to be wounded easily and he didn’t want it to matter but it
did, somehow. Or it must’ve, since it kept him from saying simple things like ‘I am sorry’.
He bit on his lip, trying hard to force the words out. They wouldn’t come.

“I’m sorry”
But the words didn’t come out of Draco’s mouth. They came from León’s. He looked up at
him, eyes meeting and he wondered what the hell was he even apologising for.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“I see how guilty you feel about everything that happened between us,” León continued. “I
just want you to know that you have nothing to be sorry for. We just didn’t expect the same
thing out of… this. So I came to the conclusion I cannot be mad at you for the way you
reacted. Especially because I knew you weren’t fully okay with your sexuality. I sort of
should have expected it,” he shrugged.

“I’m– uh… Okay? I mean, it’s true. I’m still struggling with my sexuality but I promise
there’s more to it–“ Draco started, feeling like it might be the time to come clean.

“Don’t bother. It was a shitty conclusion, I know it now,” he replied, eyeing Draco
knowingly.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a frown.

“It’s obvious isn’t it? This is the conclusion I made to reassure myself. I needed to think that
maybe this wouldn’t work because you were not ready, that you needed more time or
something… That you’ll end up liking me the way I like you”

“And why do you think it’s not the right conclusion?” he asked, confused.

“You know, I knew from the start that you were not ready for this. I’ve had a feeling deep
down and I remember how you turned me down when I asked you. So I convinced myself it
was my fault for even hoping we could be more than friends but then… Then I realise”

“What?” he asked, feeling breathless. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of León studying him.

“I saw the way you looked at Harry. You never looked at me that way”

“León,” he said softly, desiring nothing more but never talk about this. “It’s not… I mean… I
am not…”

“It’s okay, Draco. I’m not mad. How could I be mad at you for being in love? It’s beautiful. It
just hurts that it’s not with me”

He wanted to deny any feelings León mentioned about Harry, cringing internally so hard that
he thought he might puke, but as he thought about it, Draco supposed it wasn’t what mattered
right now. So he ignored it. He couldn’t tell León he looked at Harry in despair every day
because he wanted to talk to him and fix the mistake he’d made while being high. He
wouldn’t understand.

“I like you. I genuinely do,” he said instead, desperate to make him see sense. Because he did
like León.

“I know,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was a strained smile, sad and small. “I
know you do. But there’s a gap between how you feel about him and how you feel about me.
And it’s okay. I’ll make my peace with it someday. I just need more time,” he explained
kindly. “Look, I just wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you, okay?”

But Draco had more to say. He wanted to defend himself, make León see how much he cared
about him. Because he knew how he’d felt when they’d kissed. He remembered never having
feeling so good before and he knew what that meant. But Draco had never been very good
with his words and he didn’t want to upset León more than he already had. He didn’t want to
lead him on, as he wasn’t sure how he felt, really. So he shut his mouth.

“Okay,” he said, hoping they could talk about this another day.

“Twilight’s over there,” he said as he gestured to the thestral who was now playing between
the trees, disappearing out of view every now and then. “I know you came to see him so I’m
going to leave, now,” he said, squeezing Draco’ shoulder gently as he passed by him, a peace
offering, a gesture saying ‘hey, we’re fine or we’ll be’. Relief washed over Draco.

“Twilight? Since when did we agree on this name?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Since you broke my heart,” he deadpanned. Draco gaped at him. The tension between them
dissolved when León’s lips twitched and he laughed. “Oh please, don’t make that face! I’m
just kidding though you kind of owe me for leaving me during our date,” he teased.

“Yeah okay. Twilight is fine,” he chuckled with a shrug.

“Wow and I didn't even have to convince you,” he ironised. Draco shoved him playfully.

“Shut up!”

León laughed before he calmed down, his face turning serious again.

“But for real. It fucking hurts still. I need more time,” he said.

“I wish I could fix this,” he said truthfully.

“I know,” he nodded.

“We’ll be alright, yeah?”

“Ask me again after the break,” he said with a wink, already indicating that they would be, in
fact, alright. Then, he walked away, his feet taking him towards the castle and away from
Draco who simply watched him leave as he nodded to himself, a smile on his lips.

Twilight – since it apparently was his name – nudged his hand with his nose and Draco
indulged him with a pat. The thestral neighed appreciatively and Draco chuckled softly as he
kept petting him. He was glad León and he could talk a bit and he was even happier that he
had the time to say goodbye to Twilight before leaving.

This break couldn’t start any better – because for him, it was when it truly started. The past
few days had been a chore, there was nothing relaxing or resting about these. He remained
with Twilight until it was truly time to leave, just to cuddle with him a little longer. Twilight
had grown up a bit, he was now almost as tall as Draco’s hip when he used to barely reach his
knee. He wanted nothing more but seeing him grow to his full height.

Yeah, that’d be nice.

Draco was on his way to Hogsmeade after the hour passed quickly.

He was so happy in a way he rarely knew how to be anymore. His smile didn’t reduce in the
past hour, his aching cheeks frozen in a happy expression. The sight would’ve been odd to
anyone who knew how gloomy he was but thankfully he crossed ways with absolutely no one
as he had been smart enough to require the meeting to happen during lunch, when everyone
would be in the Great Hall.

His hands shoved in his pockets to protect them from the cold wind of April, he strutted
happily to the Whomping Willow. The tree was agitating its branches, chasing away the birds
which settled on it. Draco took his wand out and immobilised the tree before he slid in the
crack at the base of the trunk and entered in the shrieking shack – which wasn’t shrieking
much these days, mind you. The name was stupid.

He dusted his clothes and he made his way out of the shack, not even mad about the spider
that fell in his hair when he passed under the crooked door at the top of the rotten stairs. He
simply dislodged it and flicked it away. When he was out of the shack, he tried his very best
to stop smiling like a dummy. Just because he didn’t meet anyone on his way so far didn’t
mean he wouldn’t, now. Schooling his features in a bored expression meanwhile his heart
was swelling harder with each step he took that brought him closer to Grimmauld Place, he
walked through the trees and left the edges of the village to enter in.

The Three Broomsticks was a busy place, as always. Many teenagers were there with their
friends, sharing drinks and laughing about silly things. He walked passed them without a
glance. He longed for such state of blissful ignorance but he supposed he’d never be able to
pretend like he didn’t know anymore, not when half of the actions endangering the Wizarding
World were decisions taken under his roof, right where he used to have breakfast. Chasing
the thought away, he managed to keep the cheerfulness up all along as he walked to the
fireplace where he would step in and be swallowed by green flames.

He was rejected in a gloomy alley of Diagon Alley where a man was feeding a stray cat and
petting it gently, a newspaper tucked under his arm with Harry’s face plastered on it – the
Daily Prophet had written an article about him following the visit he’d paid to Diagon Alley
the other day, shortly after the beginning of the break. He didn’t do anything in particular –
which was exactly what they reproached him as they blamed him for the recent attacks across
the country. They pointed out that it was his duty as the chosen one to protect the citizen.
What an utter ball of craps.

Draco walked along the alleys to reach the library where he was supposed to receive a
message indicating him where he had to go next. The meeting spot hadn’t been told to him
through letters, too worried it might be intercepted, therefore they had made up a complicated
plan to make sure no one but Draco would know where to go. It limited the risk of being
ambushed. He walked for a while longer until he caught sight of a sign saying ‘Beans and
Books’.

A bell rang when he pushed the door of the old-looking library – Remus’ favourite – and he
had a quick peek at the place, noticing only a few costumers were there. It would be easy to
retrieve the message from the owner then. Behind the till, a brown haired man in his mid
thirties – probably as old as Remus was – was sorting through a pile of books. His wand
hovered over them, casting wordless spells before he discarded a book and took another.

Draco cleared his throat politely, announcing his presence without startling the man. He
looked up from the book he was holding and he gave Draco a smile. His face was kind
despite the sharpness of his jaw and the pointy chin he lifted. His eye was brown meanwhile
the other looked like a smokey veil had been placed upon his pupil. He was blind, then.
Draco patted himself on the back for clearing his throat first.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he said politely.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” the man asked, still smiling.

“I’m looking for Benjamin Fenwick. Would you happen to know him?” he asked, his eyes
reading the name on the paper he’d received a few days ago.

“You’re talking to him,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I believe someone left you something for me,” he said as he gave him a pointing look.

“What’s your name?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy”

“A common friend certainly did leave some instructions for you,” Mr. Fenwick said, smiling
knowingly.

Draco nodded and the man’s brown eye glinted mischievously. He lifted a finger, asking him
silently to wait, and then he pulled a drawer which Draco didn’t notice until now and he took
a paper out. He handed it to Draco but before he could take it, Mr Fenwick snatched his hand
back. Draco shot him a confused look.

“It’ll turn to ash as soon as you’ll read it, so perhaps make sure to remember the note,” he
warned him.

Draco nodded and Mr Fenwick finally gave him the paper. He read it carefully, making sure
to remember the note – which was pretty easy to read considering there was only so little
words – and just as promised, the paper disintegrated, leaving only a pile of ashes on the
counter. Mr Fenwick flicked his wand and they disappeared.

“Thank you, sir”

“You’re welcome. Say hi to them for me, will you?” he smiled.

“I will,” he nodded curtly before he turned on his heels and left the shop. The bell rang again
on his way out.

Stepping into the busy streets, he was almost knocked by a wizard in a hurry who even had
the nerve to glare at him as though it was his fault if they almost collided. Rolling his eyes
and tugging at the hem of his shirt, Draco went to the opposite direction than the one the man
borrowed. His feet took him to the oldest alleys of Diagon Alley which were all made of
cobblestones and he slid in another alley to reach the meeting spot now he knew where it
was. He just had to find the massive statue of Merlin and he’ll be fine.

He knew Diagon Alley like the back of his hand, fortunately, so it shouldn’t be too hard.
Focused on his search, he didn’t pay much attention to his surrounding as he kept navigating
through the old streets, making sure not to run into anyone as he almost ran now. The time of
the meeting was bound to ring and he was still not there. He knew, realistically, that whoever
coming for him would wait but he didn’t like being late – unless it was for a party. He did
know how to be fashionable late but in this case, it would be useless and probably even a bit
dangerous what with all the death eaters walking the streets of Diagon Alley. Speaking of
death eaters…

“Malfoy!”

He glanced over his shoulder to check on who had called his name. He frowned when he
noticed it was Yaxley. He wasn’t with Dolohov but another man Draco only knew the face of,
not the name. He eyed them hesitantly, with curiosity, unsure whether he should just keep
walking or stop and listen to them but he couldn’t do that, that much was clear. It would
definitely make them suspicious. He stopped in his tracks, feeling upset by their mere
presence which he hated more than anything else at this exact moment.

He took a shuddering breath to calm the anxiety that had peaked just at the sound of Yaxley’s
voice – it always brought up traumas he would never get rid of. Slowly, he turned on his
heels. Both men were now standing in front of him.

“Yaxley,” he greeted the man quite rudely – that was not the way to address the adults but
Draco had no respect for him and that single greeting made sure it was clear to Yaxley as well
– and then, his gaze fell upon the other man standing there. He was wearing a beard which
looked quite unruly, his blonde hair was not better. His eyes were hollowed, almost carved in
his skull and the pupils were unnaturally clear, almost white. He looked terrifying. “I don’t
think we had the pleasure to meet,” Draco said as he extended his hand. “Draco Malfoy”

The man looked at him, almost scowling, and his nose wrinkled with disgust as he eyed the
hand Draco offered. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the man wouldn’t shake it, therefore he
dropped it.

“Rowle here would like to see how much you progressed on your task given by the Dark
Lord,” Yaxley said nonchalantly.

Draco eyed the man whose eyes remained fixed on him all along. He hummed quietly.
“I see,” he said slowly. “Alas I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. I wouldn’t want to ruin the
reveal”

“What is it, Malfoy? You look like you’re in a hurry. Have you got somewhere to be?”
Yaxley asked, curling his lips up and revealing his teeth.

“No,” he denied calmly.

“Then we want to see how much you progressed on your task,” Yaxley insisted, his eyes
darkening.

“I don’t think the Dark Lord would appreciate it if he weren’t the first to know about–“

“That was not a question, Malfoy,” Rowle growled for the first time, grabbing him by the
collar. Draco shrugged him off and glared at him forcefully.

“Keep your hands to yourself! I’m not one of the mudbloods you manhandle,” he spat.

He planted his feet in the ground, his posture looking more aggressive all of a sudden. He
didn’t know what he could do against two death eaters but he didn’t like that he put his filthy
hands on him. Rowle growled, his hand going to his wand instantly and Yaxley placed
himself between them, hands stretched as he tried to dissolve the tension growing between
them.

“Easy gentlemen,” Yaxley said. “I am sure Malfoy didn’t know the order came from the Dark
Lord himself,” he said, shooting a pointing look at Rowle which the man returned by a glare.

“The Dark Lord sent you?” he frowned.

He hadn’t heard about that. No one was supposed to check on his work but he supposed that,
with the conflict growing in proportion, it only made sense that the Dark Lord wanted to
make sure Draco did his part. Still, he had a bad feeling about Rowle. He really hated the way
the man glared at him and dared to touch him. He looked like Draco had personally offended
him despite never meeting before. He probably held a grudge against his father. He wouldn’t
be the first.

“Very well,” Draco settled to say. “I suppose I have no choice but to show you, then”

“What a smart boy,” Yaxley said, baring his teeth.

They were acting fucking weird, to be fair. He knew Yaxley, for having been forced to spend
time with him before, and he could tell the man was not his usual self. He sounded too
passive-aggressive. His guts told him something was wrong but even if it were, he couldn’t
do anything about it without looking suspicious. Swallowing down the worry building up
inside, Draco led them to Knockturn Alley. He could only hope whoever came for him would
be patient enough to wait for him. He didn’t want to lose such opportunity over his death
eater duties.

They entered in the shop in complete silence. Rowle checked the articles on display and
touched some – he must have been suicidal. Those artefacts could very well kill him with one
touch and yet, here he was touching everything like a child discovering the world through the
fingertips. Draco shot him a look which surely showed how much he thought the man was
stupid but he couldn’t help it. His lips pursed in a thin line, he waited patiently while the men
looked around the shop slowly.

“Out,” Rowle barked at the owner of the shop.

The owner – Draco really never bothered learning his name – ran out instantly. Draco
frowned as he watched him leave. Rowle used his wand to shut the blinds and he turned the
sign indicating the shop was opened so the ‘closed’ side would face the street.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Draco said. “That man has been there through it all. He never
bothered me while I worked on the cabinet”

“Oh no, we know,” Yaxley said casually, his fingers trailing along the furnitures as he
approached Draco.

Something about this really made him feel like it was a trap and that it had just closed around
him. His breath caught in his throat, making it harder to breathe as he saw the way both men
were now looking at him as they approached slowly. Draco took a step back, involuntarily,
and that seemed to amuse Rowle who was still openly hostile.

“Then why?” Draco asked.

He didn’t even know how the words managed to come out as the alarm in his head rang
louder, shrieking ‘danger, danger, danger’ on repeat. He knew his instincts had never
betrayed him thus far and he couldn’t help but starting to shake as he knew something really
bad was bound to happen.

He shouldn’t have come here.

He shouldn’t have led them here.

He should’ve run away, like he’d wanted to, while he still had the time to.

He dropped his wand to his hand discreetly, the palm closing around the tip of the wand to
hide it. He would fight back if it came to that. He had no idea why they both looked so angry
at him but whatever they thought they were going to do, Draco wouldn’t let them without a
fight.

Yaxley snickered meanly and he cocked his head aside, a nasty smile curling his lips. Draco’s
heart was in his throat.

“We didn’t want any witnesses,” Yaxley said as though it was that simple.

Draco blinked, one of his lid twitching slightly with the nerves as he clenched his hand
around his wand harder.

“We heard you made a new friend recently,” Yaxley continued. “What a shame, you had so
much potential,” he said, sounding disappointed.
“What?” he frowned.

“Potter,” Rowle spat viciously.

Draco’s stomach dropped but his face gave nothing away. How did they even know about
this? There was only a handful of people knowing. Blaise, Pansy… Well… No one else,
actually. Everyone else thought Harry and he were still mortal enemies – he even wondered if
they were not still, sometimes.

“You thought we wouldn’t find out?” Yaxley said sweetly. He looked like he was having the
time of his life. “Oh, how to be young and naive,” he snickered.

“We’re not friends,” he denied.

“Liar!” Rowle shouted.

His heart was hammering in his chest as he looked at them both with fearful eyes. Oh, he was
so dead. Nothing he would say would make them change their mind about him. If they didn’t
kill him today, the Dark Lord would do it later. His breathing didn’t come easily at all
anymore.

“Fine. Enough with the talking. You know, Draco, it saddens me but I have to do that. Your
father will understand, when he’ll find out what you’ve done. No one but us knows thus far
but it won’t be long before everyone does. What do you think happens to traitors? Uh? I
could tell you but I think it’s nicer to show you instead,” he grinned widely.

Draco didn’t think. His brain shut down and he moved on instinct.

“Stupefy!” he said, casting the first spell.

He didn’t hit neither of them, the spell crashed against the vitrine behind, sending thousands
pieces of glass to shatter on the ground when Rowle as he dodged the spell, groaning. Draco
didn’t waste his time staying around and finding out though, he rushed to the back of the
shop, where the cabinet was. He was relieved he had fixed it so he could use it to escape. He
didn’t know what Regulus’ spell would do if Rowle and Yaxley were to follow him but he
supposed he was about to find out.

His hand on the handle, he cast spells with his left hand. Multiple things exploded in the shop
as they cast spells at each other. They both were ruthless, aiming to hurt him badly. Draco
touched Yaxley, cutting his cheek sharply and he immediately cast a shield to protect himself
from the incessant attacks.

He knew that if he let one of their spells touching him, he would be dead or probably
mutilated. They were using dark arts against him, there was no way he’d make it through if
he ever failed to escape. He yanked the door of the cabinet opened and he shoved one foot
inside, ready to disappear. Before the rest of his body could follow, a hand grabbed him
violently by the collar and yanked him backwards.
“Good to know you fixed it,” Yaxley snarled as he shoved Draco to the closest table. The
objects still there were pushed on the ground by Draco’s body when he collided there.

He looked at him, his eyes wide with fear. He tried to cast another spell but Rowle snatched
his wand before he could and he tossed it aside. One of Yaxley’s hand held him down,
pressing on his torso, meanwhile the other was blocking his face in a vicious grip.

“Rowle,” Yaxley ordered without even pronouncing more than just his name. Draco tried to
free himself but Yaxley hit him hard in the face and he hit his head on the wooden table.

“No, stop!”

He screamed in agony as the first spell was cast at him, soaking his white shirt with blood as
Rowle cast a strong Diffindo onto his chest. He cried out in pain when the first Crucio hit him
and then another one followed shortly after the agony stopped.

“Stop!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, so hard he felt it vibrating in his throat.

“Crucio!” Rwole reiterated causing Draco to scream loudly again.

“I didn’t– I didn’t betray the Dark Lord!” he yelled, tears springing in his eyes as he struggled
again to free himself when the spell was lifted. “Please I–“

He was terrified and hurt.

“Shut up!” Yaxley spat as he yanked him forward only to shove him back hard to the table.
Draco yelped.

“Let him beg,” Rowle said. “We’ll give him more reasons to scream soon enough”

He grabbed Draco’s left arm, the one meant to receive the dark mark, and he yanked at the
sleeve hard enough to rip it off. His nails were digging in his flesh as he kept him in place.

“No, no, no, no,” Draco sobbed as he caught a glimpse of a blade Rowle took out of his
robes. He raised his free arm to push them away, desperate to escape whatever hell he was
about to be taken to again.

“Hold his arm down,” Rowle growled and Yaxley did as he pined Draco to the table. “Soon
the snake won’t hiss anymore”

And he was right. Draco screamed so hard, ripping his throat in the process as soon as the
blade dug in his skin and drew blood. His arm was burning and he felt like his body had just
been set on fire. There was no way this dagger was normal, the blade must have been
poisoned or something, maybe enchanted with dark arts, even. Draco jerked and cried as he
kept screaming his head off. His skin was so hot as blood rolled down his arm. He couldn’t
see anything with his blurry eyes but he felt everything and oh, Merlin, how he wished he
didn’t.

It was pure torture.

He was choking on his sobs, choking on air, choking on the blood that was now coating his
throat with how loud he kept screaming as he squirmed on the table. Black spots came in his
vision and he wondered if he was going to pass out from the pain as Rowle kept mutilating
him. His heart was slowing down and he was sure something was seeping through his veins
as the pain spread over his whole body like wildfire.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

Rowle kept slashing his arm. He had started somewhere near the crook of his elbow and he
had moved to his wrist where he kept digging deeper, drawing more blood. Draco didn’t even
have the force to scream anymore but his tears rolled fast on his cheeks. He couldn’t believe
it was happening. He had the sensation that his blood was boiling in his veins like water on
the stove. It felt like his brain was literally melting. His eyes fluttered and he struggled to
keep them opened.

He was going to pass out. There was no way he’d stay conscious through it all.

Just when Draco thought he was going to die, his heart beating too slow to the point it
numbed his body, the door opened violently as a Bombarda was cast onto it, blowing it up.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sirius entering in the shop. He couldn’t see him well,
his eyes still blurry with tears, but he looked murderous.

His long black robes were floating behind him, making him look like the spectre of death had
came in. Wait, black robes? Sirius wore a leather jacket. That must’ve been Regulus, then. He
felt like he was underwater, his ears were completely useless as he heard barely anything.
Shouts, spells and the objects crashing around him didn’t make a sound he could ear.

He blinked.

Regulus cast a spell and dodged one. A gigantic snake came out of his wand and held Yaxley
in a choke-hold.

He blinked again.

Regulus was fighting fiercely with Rowle, giving as much as he received if not more. A twirl
of the wand and he opened the vanishing cabinet violently.

He blinked.

Another spell and he sent Rowle flying inside the cabinet before he locked the door on him
and activated the mechanism to send him elsewhere. No, not elsewhere. He sent him to
Hogwarts. He must’ve trusted his spell well enough to take such risk.

He blinked again.

Black smoke evaporated like thin air and rushed through the broken door. He saw Regulus’
lips moving, the tendons of his neck stretching as he shouted something to him but he
couldn’t ear anything but his own heartbeat which only keep slowing down.

He blinked.
Regulus was kneeling in front of him, looking at him in concern. Now he was so close, it was
obvious it was Regulus and not Sirius because he wore his hair shorter and he had a softer
face than his brother, softer features which always made him look like a saint.

He blinked again. And again. And again. Oh, he wasn’t blinking anymore. His eyes fluttered
slowly and he couldn’t grasp the words spilling out of Regulus’ mouth despite he could tell
he was speaking. Regulus’ eyebrows were tugging and his lips were nothing but a thin line,
the last sight Draco had before he passed out. His head lolled to the side as he lost
consciousness.

Regulus healed Draco as best as he could so he wouldn’t bleed out on the floor of that dirty
shop before he could even bring him back to Grimmauld Place.

Regulus wasn’t one to lose his shit easily, he never was. He was thinking before acting, rarely
impulsive – or so he liked to think he wasn’t – and every decisions he made were coldly
calculated but when he entered in the shop only to find Draco bloodied, bruised and half-
conscious, something snapped within. The fierce feeling of protection empowered him and
blinded him with sheer rage. He didn’t even think twice before killing Rowle. He knew
Draco had fixed the cabinet so he knew the spell he had placed on it would kill Rowle as
soon as he’d step in Hogwarts and he had no fucking regret doing it.

No. He would do it again, actually.

No one could hurt the people he loved and got away with it. He had lost too much, too many
people he loved to death. He saw his friends dying one after the other, members of his family
died before he could say goodbye and he had lost Sirius too, for far too long. He wouldn’t let
anyone take Draco to the grave, not if he could stop it.

All his efforts were currently gathered on this precise task. He cast dark spells after dark
spells – powerful healing spells which were considering dark by the wizarding community
because they influenced time and death but Regulus never had any qualms when it came to
use dark arts for the good cause and Draco’s fucking survival was the best cause he had to
use such spells.

When Draco’s torso stopped bleeding heavily, he tried to stop the bleeding of his arm but
nothing seemed to work on that injury and he wondered why. His lips were pursed as he read
the word anchored in his flesh. Traitor, it said. It sickened him and he felt the urge to murder
them all coming back full force. Regulus took a calming breath and he shoved it deep inside
as he remembered the promise he made before he lifted Draco like a newborn and he exited
the morbid shop which was in shambles now.

He had to take him to Grimmauld Place.

When he finally entered in the house he used to call home, Regulus called for everyone he
knew was there: Remus, Sirius and James. Harry obviously showed up too and he gasped
when he saw Regulus rushing to the closest couch where he gently put Draco down. He was
so inert, so pale. Sweat had gathered on his forehead and his features were so contracted, like
he was in pain. Regulus’ jaw clenched. He wanted to ease him, help him, but he didn’t know
how.

His thing was killing people and poison them. Not healing and caring about them.

“Oh my– what happened to him?!” Remus gasped as he rushed to Draco’s side, kneeling next
to him while Regulus stood by his side stoically.

“He was tortured by death eaters. I found him half dead,” he explained curtly, his voice void
of emotions.

Sirius shot him a worried look. He would recognise that tone anywhere. He knew the turmoil
raging inside of his little brother.

“Did they see you leave with him?” Remus asked without looking at him, too busy stroking
Draco’s hair gently, hoping to comfort him a bit.

“No. I killed one, the other ran for his life. As he should,” he gritted.

“Is he… Is he going to be okay?” Harry asked, his voice trembling as he stared at Draco.

“I don’t know, Prongslet,” Regulus replied, his voice softening instantly as he talked to his
son. “I can’t seem to stop the bleeding of one of his injuries,” he said.

“Which one?” James asked as he came closer.

“On his left arm”

James knelt next to Remus and took his arm carefully before he gasped. Regulus’ mouth fell
agape too. The injury that was just bleeding moments ago now looked absolutely dreadful.
The skin around the words anchored in his flesh was turning purple like a bad bruise and it
was spreading to his shoulder and hand. The veins were pulsing, looking swollen and grey-
ish. Remus looked at it in horror.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, horrified.

“I’ve never seen that kind of injury before,” James said. “I– I’m at loss of diagnosis. I
genuinely don’t know what to do,” he said as he looked from left to right at his friends,
hoping one of them would have an answer.

“You’re the doc here!” Sirius said, obviously scared too. “Do something!”

“I’m not a healer!” James said, his voice quivering, almost raising. “I told you all a million
times! I don’t heal physical injuries of any sort! I’m a neurologist! If it was an issue related to
the brain, I could do something but– but this?!” he said as he gestured at the injury. “This is
way out of my league”

“Guys,” Remus swallowed, pale as a sheet and his voice sounding too blank.

No one heard him.

“But Prongs! He’s going to die if you do nothing!” Sirius exclaimed.

“He’s going to die?!” Harry choked.

“And I’m going to kill him if I try something!”

“Guys,” Remus tried again.

“We need to take him to St Mungo’s,” James continued as he didn’t hear Remus’ voice again.

“We cannot take him there,” Regulus said instantly. “It’s not safe considering the hospital is
currently under the death eaters’ authority and they are the one who did this to him”

“But we have to do something!” Sirius said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to help him! I’ve never.. I’ve never seen this before!” James
insisted, obviously panicking a bit too now.

“Guys,” Remus said again.

“There must be something–“

“Will you all shut up?!” Remus growled as he glared at them, finally taking his eyes off
Draco though his hand was still stroking his hair gently.

“Remus?” Sirius asked, his eyes wide and startled.

“I know what’s happening,” he said, lowering his eyes as he pursed his lips.

No one talked for a second and Sirius and Remus communicated silently. Regulus tried to
understand what they were saying with their eyes but he never was really good at reading
them. It was like they had their own language while speaking together.

“You mean…?” Sirius asked hesitantly, his eyes going from Remus to Draco’s injury. The
purple skin had spread to the bottom of his neck now. It was spreading alarmingly fast.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Would you mind explaining to the pleb who definitely don’t speak your language?” Regulus
arched an eyebrow as he asked coldly.

Remus pursed his lips and he glanced at Sirius who pinched his own lips in response. A beat
passed and Sirius sighed before he nodded.

“We don’t have the choice,” he said.

Regulus frowned but before he could ask Remus, who looked conflicted, spoke again.

“He’s…” he swallowed. “He’s blood poisoned”

“All that mystery for that?” Regulus said blankly. “You two never fail to disappoint,” he
deadpanned before he walked to a cabinet and opened it. “I have exactly what he needs then”

He came back to the couch and he cocked his head aside before he dipped the pipette in the
tube and absorbed the right quantity of liquid. As soon as he’d apply it on the injury, Draco
would feel better and it’d be all behind them. His life wouldn’t be on the line anymore. He
measured the liquid properly and then he brought the pipette above the injury. Before he
could press it, Remus snatched his wrist and Regulus glared at him.

“What are you doing, Lupin?” he snapped.

“You can’t use that,” he said.

“Are you telling me, a potionist who actually know how to cure blood poison, what to use or
what not to use to heal a man’s injury?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Remus said stubbornly, holding his ground. “You’re going to kill him!”

“I believe potions are my thing, not yours. Are you calling me incompetent?”

“Of course not, Regulus. Don’t be daft! But…” he said but didn’t finish, glancing nervously
at Sirius.

“But what?” he asked, forcing Remus’ eyes to look at him again.

“You can’t use that,” he said.

“Give me a good reason”

A pause followed before Remus finally replied.

“You use the blood of silver ants to brew it”

“It's an ingredient! What about it?”

“Regulus... There's— There’s silver in it,” he said quietly but pointedly.

Regulus frowned but then realisation washed over him like tidal waves and he looked at him
with wide eyes.

“No fucking way!” he almost shrieked.

“Did you just curse?” James said, surprised.

“Remus, tell me you’re joking!” Regulus said but Remus ducked his head and shook it
slightly. Regulus turned to look at his brother who returned his gaze very seriously.

“What? What is it?” Harry asked and they all seemed to have forgotten he was even there in
first place.
“Draco is a werewolf,” Regulus said coldly, shooting a glare at Remus who had kept that
information from him for so long. Harry and James both gasped but he paid them no mind.

He wasn’t mad about not knowing this fact about Draco. However, he was mad that he had
almost killed him with that deadly potion he was about to apply on his injury and he was mad
at those death eaters who had forced Regulus to do something he hadn’t done in years and
which he knew was going to cause a lot of pain to Draco. Like… A lot. Because there was no
potion to help a werewolf healing from blood poison – from silver poisoning, really. But
there was a spell, one Regulus knew because he’d been asked to use it on Greyback before –
though his injury at the time certainly didn’t look half as bad as Draco’s.

Harry was staring at Draco like he had never seen him before, James was lost in his own head
like he was trying to put the pieces together and find a way to help him now he knew he was
a werewolf. Remus was back to stroking his hair to soothe him a bit and Sirius was staring at
Regulus expectantly, hoping he would have an answer to give him.

“You know how to heal him, don’t you?” Sirius said. Despite he asked, Regulus knew his
brother knew the answer. He had always been able to read his expression like no one else.
Regulus nodded slowly as all eyes fell on him. “Do it, then”

“It’s going to hurt like hell. He’ll probably fight against it so I’ll need you to hold him down,”
he warned them.

“But he’ll be fine afterwards, right?” Remus asked shakily.

“Yeah. He’ll be fine,” he promised.

“Then we do it,” Sirius said, leaving no room for discussion. He went at the end of the couch,
where Draco’s head was resting, and he looked at Remus who moved to the other end.
“We’re going to hold him. Do whatever needs to be done as long as he lives,” he said, placing
all his trust in his little brother.

Regulus’ jaw clenched but he nodded curtly.

“I will”

Regulus positioned himself properly and he grabbed one of Draco’s wrist which he gave to
Sirius. Then, he did the same with the other.

“You hold him like this, I need to always see the injury. If the spell is broken, I’ll have to start
again,” he explained. “For his sake, do not let it break,” he gave him a look and Sirius
nodded.

“Got it. I’ll make sure it won’t happen then”

“Harry?”

“Yes?” he asked, ready to help.

“Go fetch a basin. I’ll need it,” he said.

“Should I fill it with water?”

“No”

“I’m on it!” he said as he ran out of the room and climbed the stairs twice at a time to go and
fetch a basin in the bathroom.

Fuck, am I really going to do that? Regulus thought to himself as he looked at Draco.

The screams of agony Greyback let out that one time were still haunting his dreams and he
didn’t have half of the silver he had to take from Draco to take out of his body that day. He
rubbed his thigh quickly to get rid of the sweat gathering here.

When Harry came back, Regulus placed the basin by his side and he clenched his hand
around his wand. He was utterly focused as he looked at the injury. He gave a look to Remus
and Sirius, asking silently if they were ready. They both nodded so he started.

“Mundare argentum,” he muttered under his breath, over and over.

At first nothing happened. It took a moment before they started to see any changes but then,
when it happened, it looked like a worm was moving under Draco’s skin, bruising his skin
further. As soon as it started to move, Draco’s eyes snapped opened and he screamed. He
jerked violently, his back arching off the couch while Sirius and Remus held him.

The process was slow and terribly painful as he was forced to rip his cells again with the
silver that spread beneath the skin to extract it from his body. Regulus wished he could
quicken it a bit but he couldn’t, to his dismay. He didn’t flinch despite the piercing screams
Draco let out, fighting against Remus and Sirius’ deathly grip even more. He would be
thrashing if they weren’t holding him and it broke Regulus’ heart to know he was doing this
to him.

“It’s almost over,” Remus said encouragingly.

It was a lie, Regulus was far from being done but maybe it’d soothe Draco a bit. It didn’t
seem to help, though, not in the slightest as his screams persisted. James came back in the
room – Regulus didn’t even notice he had left – and he went next to Sirius who scooted over
to make some room for him without releasing Draco.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked to him over Draco’s screams.

“Helping,” James replied.

He took a crystal globe out of a bag and he let it float next to him before he cast a wordless
spell on Draco’s head. His brain appeared in the globe and James cast a multitude of spells as
he cut in the image of his brain he had in the globe.

Then, when he found what he was looking for, he cast a spell which enveloped slowly an area
of Draco’s brain and his screams subdued until they stopped altogether. He went limp on the
couch, his body relaxing suddenly and he stopped fighting against the pain. The tears rolled
on his cheeks silently until they stopped too and Draco released a breath before he closed his
eyes again. He looked peaceful now.

“What have you done to him?” Sirius asked confused.

“The same thing I did to you when I had to fix you up,” he shrugged. “I isolated the part of
his brain which treats the information of pain so he doesn’t feel it anymore. It’s still there of
course, but he cannot process it as his brain doesn’t receive the signals,” he explained.

The basin at Regulus’ feet was filling slowly with the silver he took out of Draco’s veins.
There was a great quantity of it.

“James?” Regulus called, his face hard with concentration, eyebrows tugging and lips turned
downwards.

“Yeah, love?”

“Thank you for him,” he breathed.

He was so relieved to know Draco wasn’t in pain anymore. Taking the silver out was so much
easier now he wasn’t trying to free himself and so he knew he could do it faster. Not for the
first time in his life, he was thankful for James Potter.

“Nonsense,” James said. “I couldn’t watch him suffer like that”

And so a hour later, Regulus had managed to extract all the silver from his veins and his skin
slowly returned to its usual paleness as purple vanished. When he looked up at Draco, he was
still deeply asleep and he still looked peaceful.
 Fresh Start
Chapter Notes

TW Suicidal Thoughts
Mention of past murders
Mention of past alcoholism
Mention of child abuse
Mention of past torture
Mention of Violence

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sunday 6th of April 1997

Draco was losing his fucking mind.

He had slept off the whole day as well as yesterday, too tired to keep his eyes for more than
five minutes. He had been dozing on and off all day while he recovered and he genuinely
hated feeling this weak. However, since it was part of the healing process, he supposed it
made sense and he tried not to feel too irritated when he’d woken up this Sunday morning
after skipping Saturday altogether.

However, now he was awake, things didn’t seem to go any better. The bandages around his
chest were too tight and he felt like he was suffocating – he could deal with it, anxiety had
been worse than that before – and his left hand constantly shook now. That, he couldn’t deal
with. He had been awfully surprised to notice he couldn’t lean on his left arm anymore as the
muscles tissues were still healing. The problem was that, on the outside, he looked perfectly
fine again but inside it was still recovering from the silver that had been injected in his blood
and no one knew how long it’d take to recover nor if he’d ever recover completely altogether.

That was maddening and it was extremely hard to be patient and let time do its thing when he
was stupid enough to forget he couldn’t use his left arm anymore, like right now when he
poured hot tea in a cup and picked up said cup with his left hand only to drop it immediately,
too weak to even hold it.

“Fucking piece of sh–“ he hissed angrily.

“Draco?” Remus called from the living-room. “Everything’s alright?”

“Everything’s bloody fine!” he snapped. Then, he took a shuddering breath and he pinched
the bridge of his nose with his right hand – how odd – and squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry.
Yes, it’s fine”
He heard footsteps coming closer to the kitchen and he felt like exploding because he
shouldn’t need help carrying things around, especially not a stupid cup. He ground his teeth
with frustration. When Remus entered, he was nice enough not to comment on the mess he’d
made. He only flicked his wand and vanished the tea that had spilled and he repaired the cup,
stitching back together the shattered ceramic. When it was done, he placed it upon the
counter and he stayed in the door frame, his arms crossed on his chest and his head cocked
aside as he looked at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered gently.

“Talking about what?” Draco snarled, turning his head sharply to look at him.

Remus didn’t take offence. He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug and he came closer to heal the
wound in Draco’s hand which happened when he broke the cup. Draco lifted his head ever-
so-slightly to meet Remus’ eyes now he was standing so close.

“I know this is frustrating for you but you were half-dead only two days ago. Your body
needs–“

“It needs time, yeah. I know, you’ve been repeating that like it’s a bloody mantra. It’s hard to
forget now I know it by heart,” he said as he snatched his hand from Remus’ and turned his
back again to hide the way his jaw clenched. He wasn’t even mad at Remus and he didn’t
want to lash out on him. He knew it wasn’t his fault but right now, he was angry.

He was angry at Rowle and Yaxley for torturing him.

He was angry at his father for putting him through this in first place.

He was angry at his mother for sticking by his side instead of choosing Draco.

He was angry at Pansy for suggesting an alliance between he and Potter because that
wouldn’t have happened if she had just shut her damn mouth.

He was angry at Potter for existing because he made his life so much harder.

And, above it all, he was angry at himself. He fucking detested no one else more than he
detested himself. He was angry for being weak. For being a death eater – which he probably
wasn’t anymore but that didn’t change anything. For being born in the wrong family. On the
wrong side of the war. And for the things he did. For being a bloody werewolf. For killing
Lavender. For that little girl he didn’t try to save and the other kids he watched dying. For
almost killing Bell.

For not fighting back properly, for letting them hurt him, for all the pain he caused and was
bound to cause, for not committing suicide when he had the chance to do it, for being a
bloody waste of–

“Draco?” Remus interrupted his violent thoughts again.

He didn’t even realise he had stopped breathing, his white-knuckled fingers clenched around
the counter as he gritted his teeth, releasing a strangle noise.
“Soon you’ll get better. It won’t be this hard–“

“Hard?” he snapped again. He tried to contain the anger but it was consuming and it
perspired through the glare he shot at Remus like an unleashed tear the broken cried. “I am
left-handed Remus! How in hell am I supposed to use my wand now I can’t even bloody lift
it?!”

How am I going to defend myself? he didn’t voice but meant.

Remus pursed his lips but said nothing. He looked saddened by the pain he read in Draco’s
gaze and it was even more infuriating because Draco didn’t want to be pitied. He didn’t
deserve his compassion and he certainly didn’t want it. Remus took a breath as he tried to
choose his words carefully.

“I get it. I know that you’re hurting and that you’re scared,” he said slowly. “I know this–“

“You know shit, Remus. Don’t even bother,” he said, his words accompanied by a shake of
the head before he walked passed him to exit the kitchen. Remus didn’t try to stop him but he
looked at him leaving.

When he stepped into the living-room, he found Potter, James and Sirius sitting on the couch
in a dead silence as they all turned to look at him. Draco felt immensely ashamed and he
came to a halt long enough to meet their eyes. He swallowed harshly and he looked away,
walking with determination towards the back door to step into the garden. He closed the door
behind him – first he tried with his hand and then, he just closed it with his foot – and he ran
down the stairs of the porch to sit outside.

His eyes were teary but filled with a blazing anger. The moonlight reflecting in his eyes did
nothing to lighten his irises. Silver had never looked so dark as he fed the anger under the
kind twinkling of the stars.

Monday 7th of April 1997

The next day, when Draco woke up at a decent hour in the morning, drenched by sweat and
tears just like he did when he woke up usually, the anger was gone and he just felt… Well, he
felt empty. Void of emotions. A little bit dead, too.

His face pressed against the pillowcase, his eyes fluttered slowly as he felt lifeless. He was
laying on his stomach, his arms along his body and the pillow distorting the shape of his lips
as he stared at the glorious sunrise coming in his room, washing it with warmth and light.
Draco wanted it gone but at the same time, he didn’t. He didn’t want anything. And he
certainly didn’t want to get up to draw the curtains he’d left opened last night.

So he stared at the sunrise until the colours faded and his eyes were burning because he didn’t
blink enough and was blinded by the light. He didn’t move at all. He wished he could stay in
bed all day, hiding from the world so he wouldn’t have to face Remus after how he talked to
him last night. He was so sorry about it, he hadn’t meant to get mad. He hadn’t meant to