“I’m sure you can but if you prefer, I could send him an owl explaining everything?

” he
offered and Draco nodded.

“Yeah okay, but he better not try to chain me!” he stated firmly.

“I promise he won’t. If he does, you can be sure I’ll storm in his office and defend your
freedom,” he smiled reassuringly.

“It means a lot,” he smiled weakly.

“I know pup, don’t worry,” he squeezed his shoulder tentatively and Draco allowed it.

“Pup?”

“I’m sorry, it just sticks,” he chuckled.

“No it’s okay, I think I like it”

“Good! Because I genuinely don’t think I’ll call you otherwise from now on, and Sirius won’t
either,” he laughed.

The door opened again and Sirius entered in. He dropped the tool in the box before he kicked
it under the furniture where it probably had been hidden the whole time. Remus and Draco’s
eyes followed him as he went to the sink to wash his hands which were covered with grease
and almost as black as his hair – or his name. Draco couldn’t tell for sure but Sirius looked
calmer than earlier and he supposed it was a good omen. At least he wouldn’t die on the way
back to school if Sirius suddenly decided to test the speed limits his bike could reach just to
get the anger out of his system.

They kept staring at him when he dried his hands with the towel hanging on a hook above the
sink. Draco decided it might be the right time to cut the awkward silence they were all
swimming in. He cleared his voice and both Remus and Sirius turned to look at him. “So
over the night while we were outside I thought about telling Blaise,” he explained.

“What did you decide?” Sirius asked, curious.

“He means a lot to me and if I ever have to choose one person to tell my secret to, I believe it
would be him”

Besides, Draco didn’t want to share this part of himself with Dumbledore before he even told
his best friend. It didn’t feel right. Telling Blaise would also help him to test the waters and
see how people would potentially react if later in life he decided to tell someone else. Blaise
had always been his first choice whenever he needed someone to confide in or to even simply
spend time with. He almost felt bad it took him so long before coming to the most natural
conclusion. Of course he wouldn’t like hiding something that big from him.

“If you need to talk about it afterwards we’re only an owl away,” Sirius smiled
encouragingly.

“Thanks,” he gave him a small smile. “Do you think he’s going to react well?” he swallowed.
“If he doesn’t, don’t take it personally and leave him some time,” Remus said. “When do you
plan to tell him?”

“I don’t know, first we need to make up,” he bit his lip. “I”ll talk to him tonight and we’ll
see”

“As long as you’re sure,” Sirius glanced at Remus who returned his look but they didn’t say
much after that.

Leaving the shack felt a bit weird this time, his stomach chunked and he felt almost sick at
the thought he’d have to confront Blaise now he said he would. The chances Blaise would be
out when he’d go back were thin anyway so he wouldn’t have much choice but to fix his past
mistakes if he wanted not to lose his best friend. Remus stuffed his pockets with chocolates
before he left and after that, they said goodbye until the next full moon. Draco felt his mood
was ridiculously low when he straddled the bike and held onto Sirius’ waist not to fall. The
trip was a blur and faster than he wished, Sirius left him all alone in an empty street back in
Hogsmeade. Draco barely remembered his feet leading him back to the castle after that, his
mind clouded by the memories of the fights he had with Blaise.

He felt so ashamed, so stupid. He wanted to slap the shit out of himself for the words he
spoke and the choices he made. He’d have to be really convincing if he wanted Blaise to
forgive him after the way he behaved. Dragging himself back to the dungeons felt like an
ordeal but he did it anyway, brushing the walls as he tried not to get caught by one of Peeves
prank who was actively busy mixing the tags on the potions bottle to piss Regulus off. When
he finally entered the common room, Draco felt on the verge of crying already.

“Stupid moon,” he muttered but his words were quite emotionless as he tried his best not to
breakdown.

He had never felt this emotionally drained after a full moon. He was so vulnerable, so scared
and so sad. He wondered if his mental health was making things tougher for him now he was
supposed to recover from the full moon – despite there was not much to recover physically
this time, thank Merlin. His heart was heavier after each steps but he bravely opened the door
of the dorm instead of waiting until his roommates were all asleep to sneak in, too afraid to
face them.

He scanned the room with his eyes when he entered. Immediately, he spotted Blaise in the
room. His curtains were opened and he was sitting crossed-legs on his bed, his head ducked
over a textbook and a parchment while he flipped the quill he was holding over and over
again nervously. Whatever it was he was working on, he couldn’t find the answer he was
looking for. Draco saw his eyebrows twitching when he frowned and he had to repress a
smile. He definitely loved him very much and he had to make amends for his behaviour. No
excuses.

When his eyes checked the rest of the room to see whether or not they were alone, Draco saw
León who was laying on his back, a book about the biology of sea creatures flying open
above his head while he rested his hands behind his head, using them as a pillow. He looked
so ethereal like that, creating a sharp contrast with the real world. It felt a bit odd. Draco
pushed the thought away before his cheeks reddened. Snapping his gaze to find Theodore,
Draco noticed he wasn’t on his bed but at the end of it, sitting on the floor as he was
obviously focused on writing a letter to someone. Draco suspected it might have been his
aunt – who might as well be his mother, she was so caring and maternal with him – but he
couldn’t see any name from where he stood.

Draco released a shaky breath before he cleared his voice, hoping it’d draw Blaise’s attention
on him. Both Theodore and León looked up but Blaise kept his gaze stubbornly on the
parchment he was writing, ignoring him as if he was just an annoying fly trying to distract
him by flying too close to him. Draco sighed, already exhausted with this conversation they
had not even had yet. "Blaise," he called but it went unanswered. "Blaise," he said more
firmly but still nothing. "Blaise!"

"What?" he asked sharply as he locked his eyes with Draco's, his gaze hard and hostile.

Draco looked at him blankly. He didn't like it when they were fighting, especially not when it
was his fault. He liked to have the upper-hand, being the one in control of the outcome of the
fight. He deeply detested being on the other end of the sword cutting the ties of the bridge of
his friendships though. It was scary. Draco swallowed imperceptibly before he looked at Nott
and León again and he decided against talking to him in front of them. He didn’t want to be
ridiculed in front of an audience. Instead, he snatched the quill out of Blaise's hand who
protested angrily – “What do you think you’re doing Malfoy?!” - and threw his stuff at the
end of the bed before he climbed into it and sat crossed-legs.

"I repeat since you’re obviously daft. What do you think you're doing?" He detached the
words as if Draco was a child. Draco felt the urge to roll his eyes but didn't respond, instead
he waved his wand in the air and shut the curtains before he cast a silencing charm.

"We need to talk”

"Oh so now he wants to talk," he snapped bitterly. "Well, flash news Malfoy, it's not up to
you to decide when and how we're having a talk"

Draco winced. Blaise hadn't called him by his last name since second year and now it was the
second time he did within five minutes. It felt odd and uncomfortable. Foreign. He sighed
sadly.

"Please I just want to-"

"Get out," Blaise bit.

Draco's jaw clenched and his eyes prickled a bit in front of Blaise's blatant rejection. "Please I
just-"

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to listen to anything you have to say. Get out!"

Draco swallowed. He knew the moon was partly responsible for the sadness which made his
breathing heavy and shallow but he also knew Blaise's reaction hurt him deeply, even though
he had hurt him first. He humidified his dry lips and ran a trembling hand in his hair. He felt
too vulnerable, maybe he shouldn't have insisted to have this talk tonight.
"Look, I know you're mad at me-"

"For fuck's sake are you deaf or something?! I don't want to hear you! I don't want to talk to
you! I don't want to look at you, breathe near you or even just fucking be in the same room as
you! Leave me alone!"

"But-"

"You always do that," he chuckled bitterly and Draco hated the sound. "You always fuck up
and then you expect me to forgive you. You always say dumb shit before you think and then
you expect me to crawl back to you-"

"I'm the one crawling back to you right now," he whined and he felt pathetic.

"-and you always hurt me!" he yelled. "I'm not your bloody punching-ball, I'm done with
your shit for real! Get the fuck out of my bed!"

"I'm sorry I-"

"Get. Out." He growled, his voice dangerously low. Blaise reached for his wand and looked
at him again. “I will hex you if you don’t!”

"If you just let me explain-" he insisted because he never knew when to back down when it
mattered.

"There's nothing you could say that would excuse your behaviour!" He snapped.

"No I know but I'm trying-"

"Trying isn't enough. Not anymore"

"You don't understand this isn't my fault-"

"I don't want to understand! Don't you get it?! There's nothing you could say that would make
me forgive you! Have you noticed how you treated me?! I mean you were there! Do you
think it's fucking normal?! Is that how you treat your friends then? No wonder you’re always
alone, you deserve it!"

Draco blanched drastically and his eyes welled up. It definitely did hurt. The memory of their
last fight rushed behind his lids when he closed his eyes and released a shuddering breath. He
definitely shouldn't have thrown Blaise's sketchbook in the school fountain but he hadn't
meant to do it. He was just mad and one minute he snatched it from his hands and the next
one it was in the fountain. He wouldn't have ever done it if only he had managed to control
his anger. He felt terribly bad about it. He wished he had a time-turner now, too bad they had
all been destroyed last summer.

"I'm sorry but an easy spell would have been enough to dry it and-"

"Do you think I care about that?! That's not the issue here! I buy a new one or I fix it even.
Who cares about a bloody sketchbook? That’s not what it is about. It’s the symbolic of the
gesture that matters. You disrespected me! The way you threw it like it meant nothing just
showed how little you care about me you selfish bastard!" He spat.

Draco received the venomous words like a punch in the face. Actually, he’d have preferred if
Blaise had punched him, it would have hurt less. A tear rolled down Draco's pale face and he
blinked quickly as he tried not to let his words sinking in. Too bad they did.

"I’m sorry I-!" his voice cracked.

Blaise's anger faltered a bit when he saw him crying and he gritted his teeth not to yield and
forgive him right away because he had forgiven him too many times in the past and he was
just done. Draco could get it. But Blaise wasn’t a monster and his own heart clenched at the
sight of Draco’s pale cheeks dampened with the soundless crying.

"Tell me why you're crying. Obviously it's not because you care so what is it?" Blaise taunted
but he didn’t sound as convincing as earlier this time.

"Of course it's because I care! You're my best friend, my brother! I don't have anyone if I
don't have you. You mean the world to me how can you even think I don't care?! You’ve been
like my shadow all those years, always stitched to me no matter what and now it’s barely if
you’d look at me!" he shouted. "Can't you see I'm lost without you?! I don't know what to do
Blaise! I'm scared and my life is a mess! I’m trying to fix what I’ve done right now and you
don’t even care! You don’t even want to listen! I know I’m a shit friend, I’ve got it! But this
is me trying! Have I ever apologised before? No! I didn’t! Because I never cared enough to
do so but I care about you and I- I-.. I need you! Everything is fucked up and I can't even
recognise myself anymore!" he sobbed in earnest this time, his tears rolling down his cheeks
as he finally broke down after weeks of pressure. "Everyone expects different things from
me, I'm under so much pressure I don't know how to deal with it and I don't- I don't know
what I am supposed to do! I'm just trying! That’s all I do! And there's this thing with the
fucking moon that turns my brain inside out every single day and I don't know how to cope
with it! I'm just- I'm just-"

Blaise looked at him with wide eyes before he pulled Draco in a tight hug. "Fuck, shh.. Don't
cry, I got you. I know you're sorry, I'm sorry too. Shh," he rocked him slowly as he stroked
his hair. The gesture felt both intimate and familiar. It felt like going home after being gone
for weeks. Draco could finally breathe – figuratively because he was almost choking on air as
he hyperventilated.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he chanted over and over again while sucking air sharply and
coughing a bit because of his sobs choking him. “I never meant to hurt your feelings, I love
you, I’m sorry,” he said through his sobs. Blaise froze at that because Draco had never told
him so openly how much he loved him before and it was the sign something was really
wrong with him.

"Tell me what's wrong. Talk to me. You shouldn't be breaking down like that, not if we can
avoid it," he whispered in concern.

"I can't tell you," he hid his face in the crook of Blaise neck, incapable of calming down.
"I'm right there, you know you can trust me so just talk to me. Don't keep it all to yourself,"
he almost begged. His concern was legit. In many years of friendship, Blaise had never seen
him crying so hard. Draco had never seemed so small and vulnerable either in front of him.

"I- I don't know how to- I don't know-" he hiccuped, his fist clenching around the fabric of
Blaise's shirt.

"Just say it, you can trust me"

"I- I trust you, I do"

"Okay," he breathed, expectantly. Blaise knew him well enough to know he was about to spit
it out and he braced himself for whatever it was he was about to say. Although, all the
preparation in the world couldn't have prepared him for the blow the words that followed
would cause.

"I'm a werewolf," he said after a tensed minute of silence.

The words fell out of his mouth so silently he barely heard them himself but Blaise went
incredibly still under him and Draco's breathing sounded loud in the chaotic silence his
confession brought in their bubble. That was all he needed to know Blaise heard him. He was
shaking entirely now, he couldn't face his best friend. He was afraid he'd hate him and reject
him for good now but Blaise was still holding him firmly so that had to count for something.
"Please don't be afraid.. Say something," he begged hoarsely.

“I-," he gulped. "I don't even know what to say.."

"Say you're not mad that I didn't tell you earlier or anything really.. Just.. Please don't hate
me," he whispered, terrified.

"I could never hate you," and to prove that, he snaked his arms around him a bit tighter and
squeezed gently. Draco relaxed a bit against him and yawned, exhausted after crying so hard.
"When did it happen?" he asked tentatively.

"In July.. That's why I was with Remus and Sirius. Remus spends the full moon with me, or I
spend them with him I don't know.. We spend it together," he explained, deciding it was
better not to tell him about Sirius being an animagus.

"Alright," he nodded absent-mindedly before he snapped back into reality. "You're going to
tell me everything. No more secrets," he stated firmly and Draco nodded.

So he obliged and he didn’t forget any details. After he told him everything about his new
condition and his new life as a werewolf, Draco's lids shut down and he fell asleep in Blaise's
bed that night. Although, he took it upon himself to preserve Blaise from the task and
everything it implied as well as the pressure weighting on him because he wanted to keep
him safe. Despite the omission, the world felt a little bit warmer now he wasn't all alone
anymore.
 Stained Hands
Chapter Notes

TW Anxiety (but it's not too bad)

Thursday 3rd of October 1996.

Walking in the corridors like a shadow, Draco tried his best to disappear in the crowd. It was
in his best interest not to draw attention onto him after what he’d done the night prior.
Rumours were already spreading in the castle saying someone had tried to break in
Dumbledore’s office during the night and that someone may or may not happened to be him.

Everything would have been fine if not for that stupid lock. Unfortunately, he couldn’t have
predicted the door would spray dark ink onto his hands as soon as he’d fumble with the lock
after no spell managed to get it open. Who could have predicted that? The stain of washed,
fading black ink remained on the palm of his hands and his fingertips no matter how many
scourgify he tried to cast. Even the muggle way didn’t make it go. He had several showers
between last night and this morning and yet, it was still anchored in the cells of his body.

He was doomed if someone saw it.

Every Aurors in the castle were trying to find the person responsible for the intrusion.
Dumbledore knew the trap he set had stained the person responsible and it was just a question
of time before they find out it was Draco. Everyone was walking to the Great Hall for
breakfast but Draco had to find a way to get rid of the ink before entering the Great Hall
because it was obvious they’d wait for everyone to be gathered to check their hands and then
they’d catch him. Draco would have loved to explain himself but honestly he couldn’t
without giving too much away so he had to make sure no one would find out it was him. He
was practically running in the other direction at this point.

On the other side of the corridor, Draco saw Blaise coming towards him and he felt relieved.
Blaise was clever and he was also his best friend. He would do anything he could to help
him. That was just who he was. Draco stopped for a second to think whether he should or not
ask for his help and get him involved in the mess he created but then he remembered he
promised him not to hide anything from him anymore and that was quite the secret he was
keeping at the moment. Together they’d find a solution, surely.

“Have you heard what happened?” Blaise immediately asked when he finally joined him.

“Everyone did I think,” he said.

“Where have you been this morning? You left before everyone else,” he enquired.
“I was hiding,” he whispered.

“Why?” Blaise frowned, confused.

“Why do you think?” he arched an eyebrow before discreetly showing up the palm of his
hand. Blaise gasped.

“Merlin! That was you! You tried to-” he squealed. Draco pushed him against the wall and
clapped his hand on his mouth, their body pressed against each other to hide the evidence of
his crime between their chests.

“Shut up! Do you want me to get caught?” he hissed.

“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed back after Draco finally let go of him.

“I had my reasons”

“I hope they were good enough to risk Azkaban!” he snapped.

Truthfully, his reasons were that good and would probably cause him to get sentenced to
Azkaban in the future since it was about the task.

During his shift with Dean on Monday, Draco felt a bit more cheerful than usually. His good
mood led them to talk – really talk – for the very first time. As he suspected, Dean was really
great. He understood why he was so popular in the eyes of the Gryffindors. He even managed
to draw a genuine smile out of Draco. But things became really interesting when Dean
decided to talk about their duty prefect after a silence settled between them and he didn’t
know how to fill it.

In the course of the conversation, Dean told him they had to check in the alcoves for couples
making out after the curfew and the wardrobes and cabinets just in case one of the student
would be locked inside one of them. Apparently, it was a recent measure no one had warned
Draco about motivated by an incident that happened last year when the Weasley twins locked
Montague in a cabinet. Draco quickly understood that the cabinet wasn’t ordinary when Dean
explained Montague had disappeared and hadn’t been found until a few days later on a
different floor than the one he disappeared from.

The next day, Draco immediately went to find Montague and he asked him to tell him about
his experience in the vanishing cabinet. When he told him he had been able to hear
simultaneously things that happened both at Hogwarts and at Burgin and Burkes, Draco put
the pieces together and he felt happy to see his theory being confirmed. Knowing the cabinet
he was looking for probably was in Hogwarts really made him feel better with himself –
strangely enough, since he didn’t want to achieve the mission he’d been given but working
on it always relieved him slightly from anxiety.

And now, he finally had a lead to follow, one that was concrete and real. Of course he jumped
on the occasion to do something about it.
So, his first instinct had been to check at the library, in the archives of Hogwarts to find
something about the vanishing cabinet but it wasn’t mentioned anywhere. After skimming
through dusty books and parchments, Draco began to think the vanishing cabinet was nothing
but a furniture in the décor of this school. Maybe it was. Just because it meant a lot more to
him, it didn’t mean it meant a lot to anyone else.

His second thought had been that since the accident happened while Umbridge was at
Hogwarts, the chances she took care of it herself were high and therefore he had to check in
the headmaster’s office to find a report about it or something, anything, that would tell him
what happened to the cabinet after that. Because of course he did check the first floor where
the cabinet was supposed to be and it wasn’t there anymore.

Therefore, he had decided to break in the office when everyone would be asleep because he
refused to discourage himself. It was the first time in months he finally found a lead and he
didn’t want to give it up too quickly. He planned to enter in Dumbledore’s office to check in
the folders Umbridge hopefully left in the office when she left but the plan found an end
before he could even finish the first step. So he ended up here all because of quick
assumptions he made after being sleep deprived for days. That wasn’t his smartest move.

“Azkaban,” he huffed derisively. “Stop being dramatic, at worst they’d expel me,” Draco
rolled his eyes.

“That’s not funny! You tried to enter into Dumbledore’s office while the school is infested of
Aurors! What did you even think about?”

“What’s done is done, stop lecturing me!” he snapped. “Are you going to help me or not?” he
glared at him.

“Fine! But this is a one time thing! Next time you get yourself in trouble don’t count on me to
clean up your mess,” he glared right back. “Literally”

“Thank you,” he replied sarcastically, his tone annoyed but unimpressed.

“Careful, I am a second away to change my mind!” He shook his finger in a quick reprimand.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and Blaise shook his head with an eye-roll.

“Come on, we have to get your hands clean,” Blaise sighed before he pushed through the
crowd of students. He was about to enter in the toilets when Draco grabbed his wrist to stop
him. Blaise shot him a quizzical look.

“Not here,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because anybody could come in,” he replied.

“Where do we go then?”

“Follow me, I’ve got an idea,” he nodded towards the stairs and Blaise shrugged.
“Okay, lead the way”

Draco checked around to make sure no one was looking before he ran upstairs to the second
floor, Blaise following closely. He was so busy making sure no Aurors would find him that
he didn’t even stop to listen to his instinct. If he had, he would have felt the way Potter was
tracking him down under his cloak. As soon as they reached the corridor, they ran to the
girls’ bathroom and Draco locked the door behind him before Potter could sneak in.

“Okay what’s the plan now?” Blaise asked.

“How would I know? Don’t you think I would have dealt with it on my own if I had any idea
what to do?” he sniggered.

Blaise rolled his eyes and grabbed Draco’s arm before he rolled up his sleeve to the crook of
his elbow and he put it under the tap as he turned it open. Hot water poured on Draco’s skin
and he hissed as he jerked away from the hose. Blaise regulated the heat until it was
comfortable, testing the temperature himself before he nodded and Draco trusted him enough
to put his hand back under water. Draco frowned as he watched Blaise pouring some soap on
his skin. He did try that before and it didn’t help. Did he really think he was that stupid he
wouldn’t think about that? He was snapped from his thoughts when he yelped because Blaise
began to scratch the ink off his skin.

“Oi! It hurts! Be careful!” he snapped as he tried to pull on his arm to escape Blaise’s grip
which only tightened to keep him in place.

“I’m trying to help, stop being an arse!” he chastised but his movement grew more gentle
after that.

“You’re not being helpful! It looks like you’re trying to teach me a lesson,” he pouted.

“What if I am?”

“That’d be mean!” Draco glared.

“Maybe next time you’ll think before trying to break in somewhere you shouldn’t!” he
hissed.

“As if you never put your nose where you shouldn’t have!”

“Are you really comparing what I did to what you did?!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

“This is absolutely not different from what I did,” Draco defended himself. His audacity was
astonishing sometimes.

“You’re so wrong-”

“You two bicker like an old married couple,” a strident voice giggled above their heads.
Draco and Blaise looked up at the same time to look at Moaning Myrtle. Water was still
pouring on Draco’s skin but Blaise stopped rubbing his hand.
“Do you know how to vanish the ink or are you just here to make fun of us?” Draco groaned.

“Maybe if you ask kindly,” she pouted. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something about
asking kindly something to a ghost and it set her off. “Pure-bloods are always demanding,
they never care enough to ask! We’re not your subjects!” she yelled as she brought her face a
few centimetres closer to them. Blaise flinched and turned his back to the sink as he grabbed
it with both hands.

“She’s nuts,” he whispered to Draco who nodded silently in agreement.

“If you were kinder, I would have helped you. But you’re not kind,” she furiously added.

“He can be very kind!” Blaise said.

“What are you doing?” Draco hissed under his breath.

“Do you want to get rid of the ink or not?” He whispered. Draco groaned.

“How kind?” Myrtle asked, a small pout on her lips. She looked so ridiculous Draco felt
second-hand embarrassment.

“Very kind! Tell us what you want and you’ll have it,” Blaise promised. She made a noise as
she contemplated the idea. Draco gritted his teeth. Why did he have to promise that?

“Alright then,” she agreed with a nod.

“Alright? Are you going to help us?” Blaise checked.

“On one condition,” she said with her honeyed voice. It sent shivers down Draco’s spine.

“What do you want?” Draco mumbled darkly.

“I want you to come and spend Friday night with me, next week,” she blinked exaggeratedly.

Draco groaned. “Are you kidding me? You’re daft as hell for a poltergeist-” he began to say
before Blaise pulled on his sleeve, an inaudible warning. Draco glared at him.

“He’ll come! Now help us,” Blaise agreed.

She giggled and spun in the air, happily. Draco felt the urge to drown himself in the toilets.
Why was death his solution to everything? “To get rid of the ink, it’s super easy. You just
have to gather a small quantity of wood ashes from an oak tree and mix it with water. Then,
you apply it on your skin and the ink will disappear,” she burst into another fit of giggles.

“Thanks,” Blaise said to Myrtle before he turned to look at Draco. “Wait for me here, I’ll be
back very soon!” He promised as he rushed outside after unlocking the door.

“Don’t leave me with her!” he mouthed with wide eyes but Blaise was already gone.

“So? I had never seen you here, Draco Malfoy,” the ghost giggled. Draco didn’t answer.
Pause.

“I’d happily share my toilet with you if you wanted to,” she giggled again and Draco
reconsidered his previous thought of drowning himself here. Death penalty would be worse
than living in those conditions. Once again, he refused to talk.

Pause.

“Maybe your friend could come too on Friday. I’d love it,” she insisted on talking and Draco
rolled his eyes internally. He refused to acknowledge her.

“You both are pretty boys, you know? For pure-bloods”

Draco sighed before he hit his forehead against the cold tiles of the wall. What had he done to
deserve that? The ghost tried to talk to him a few more times but he stubbornly refused to
answer as he ignored her royally. Apparently, she didn’t like that very much. Since he wasn’t
willing to talk, Moaning Myrtle dove into the toilets and left him alone after floating
aimlessly in the air far too long to Draco’s liking. He was finally alone. The peaceful feeling
he got was quickly replaced with annoyance when the door opened again a few seconds later
and Potter appeared. Quickly, Draco shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the ink. Blaise
was already driving him mad about it, he didn’t need Potter to add his own snide comments.

He hated the day he was having enough as it was already.

“I know it was you,” he said matter-of-factly.

Of course he would say that. Of course he’d know.

“Hello to you too, Potter. How’s your day going?” he replied sarcastically as he rested his
forehead against the wall once more, deciding he wouldn’t look at him neither.

“My-”

“Your two braincells don’t work well I see. It was ironic, Potter. I couldn’t give two shits
about whether you’re living the worst day of your life or the happiest”

“I wasn’t going to reply to that sarcastic comment you made!”

“Go to hell, Potter,” he said, bored. His head still against the tiles. “I don’t have the time to
deal with you today”

“Why did you try to get into Dumbledore’s office?” Potter asked anyway. Draco sighed.

“Why are you a nosy little bitch?” he retorted within a second as he finally straightened to
look at him in the eyes.

“I know you’re up to something,” he said without unlocking his gaze.

“Do you?” he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Good luck to prove it”
“Be careful when-”

“No, you should be careful Potter!” he shot back heatedly. Potter was pushing his luck with
him and Draco really couldn’t stand him anymore. “You’re more than pushing the limits.
How many times did I ask you to leave me alone the past few weeks, eh?” he shoved him.
“How many times did I find you trailing me like my shadow in the corridors when you
should have been in your dorm? Uh?” he shoved him again. Potter stumbled backwards but
he recovered quickly. “What do you think your old man will say when he’ll find out you’re
harassing me? Do you think he’ll be proud?” he asked haughtily. “His favourite pet harassing
one of the students he claims to protect! How does that sound to you?”

“I’m trying to protect the students just like he does so yes, he will be proud,” he replied
confidently.

“Who asked you to?” he snapped. “Why can’t you just live your life and leave it to the
adults? Do you crave recognition so much?” he spat.

“I hate the fame-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he groaned loudly. “Shut up! Do I look like I care about the little,
pathetic and poor excuse of a life you live? Who do you think I am? One of your
embarrassing fangirl crawling at your feet and drooling on their chins whenever you open
your goddamn mouth?! Or maybe do you think I look like a therapist? Maybe you should see
one though. That could be helpful considering you’re obviously very obsessed with me,” he
said as he took a step forward, towering Potter easily since he was considerably taller. Not
even Potter’s skin could conceal the blush spreading on his cheeks.

“I’m not obsessed with you!” he defended himself.

“Then stop acting like you are!” he shouted.

“Stop acting weird and I will! My reasons to follow you were obviously leading me to the
right conclusion since you’re the one who tried to break in Dumbledore’s office!” He replied
defiantly, his knuckles white around his wand. Draco sneered at the sight.

“You want to curse me, Potter?” he laughed.

“No, I-,” Potter inhaled slowly to calm down and release the pressure around his wand. “I
don’t want to attack you”

“Good, because I don’t have my wand out, as you notice and that wouldn’t be very
Gryffindor of you,” he smirked.

“No but it’s very Slytherin of you to deflect and scheme to destroy the school. We both know
who your father is,” he bit back. Draco’s eyes darkened abruptly and he was really tempted to
punch him. Bringing up his father was a low blow, one that Draco loved to pull but that he
never expected from Potter.
Draco took a deep breath before he smiled smugly. It wasn’t genuine but Potter didn’t need to
know. “Prove it then,” he said as he took another step forward until they were chest to chest
before he slightly leaned on to whispered to his ear. “You have no idea what you’re getting
yourself involved in. I suggest you take my advice seriously and mind your own business
from now on”. Straightening to his full height, his piercing eyes found the shining emeralds
of Potter’s and he smirked. “You’re going to make a fool of yourself, Potter. Don’t say I
didn’t warn you”

Potter’s jaw clenched. “I’ll find a way to prove everything I have said and that day, even your
name won’t be enough to get you out of Azkaban,” he promised.

“We shall see. Please, don’t hold back! Now, if you excuse me, I think I’ve seen your face
long enough for a lifetime. I believe you know the way out,” he tilted his head in a mocking
gesture and Potter glared at him with animosity before he spun on his heels and exited the
bathroom in a rush, obviously angry. Draco shook his head as he watched him leave. Before
the door closed, Draco had the time to see Peeves snatching Potter’s wand from his hand.

“Give it back!” he said before Peeves sneered, flying higher to get out of reach. Draco
laughed mockingly as he watched him bouncing up and down like a rabbit to catch it.

The inconvenience of being so small. That wasn’t an issue he was familiar with, besides
Peeves left him alone most of the time and when they crossed ways, he never tried to get on
Draco’s bad side and simply flew away. Draco supposed it had to do with his reputation of
Prince of Slytherins and the fact the Bloody Baron liked him very much.

Draco sat down against the wall as he waited for Blaise to return. He didn’t know how long
it’d take to find the ashes from an oak tree at Hogwarts but he hoped it wouldn’t take too long
considering it was soon time to have breakfast and join the Great Hall. He sighed deeply as
he felt stupid. He was blaming himself for what happened, especially because he got Blaise
involved in this situation whereas he had promised himself to keep him as far away as
possible from anything related to the task. But it was an exceptional situation, it wouldn’t
happen every day. Although, thinking about it this way made him realise there would always
be exceptional situation that would probably lead him to think it was a brilliant idea to
receive a bit of his friend’s help.

What would happen if he couldn’t succeed the task on his own? What if he needed help and
he didn’t know who to ask? Who he could trust? What if he needed help and the only person
he wanted to ask was Blaise? What then? Would he be selfish enough to get him involved in
dark arts? He didn’t want to pressure him into the war the way Draco had been before. He
didn’t think it was fair. Besides, Draco had been a shitty friend for a long time now and he
thought the least he could do to make amends was to ensure his safety. Sure, that wouldn’t
cover the uncountable mistakes he’d done in the past but that would be something if he
managed to keep him out of trouble until the end of the war. He just wanted him to be alright.

Draco’s head rested against the wall now and he opened his eyes – which he had not even
noticed he closed in first place – to see Blaise and León coming inside the bathroom. He
frowned deeply as he looked at León.

“What is Jack Frost doing here?” he bit as he stood up.

“I was at-”

“I don’t believe I talked to you,” he glared at him.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “He was at Hagrid’s when I arrived”

“Hagrid’s?” his eyebrows shot up and disappeared in his hair. “Why did you go there?”

“Do you know many people here who would be able to give us ashes from a tree?” he
deadpanned and Draco pursed his lips together. He didn’t have much to say against that logic.
But still, Hagrid was Dumbledore’s pet just like Potter was. Asking him for help was risky
and Dumbledore had probably already been alerted of Blaise’s uncommon request.

“Wait,” he said as he thought about something. “Why would he help you? He hates
Slytherins”

“No,” Blaise shook his head. “He hates you”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“No but it’s true”

“Besides, he likes me,” León interjected. “I just had to tell him we really needed it,” he
smiled.

“Great,” he spat before he looked at Blaise. “You told Jack Frost, didn’t you?”

“I had to! How was I supposed to get the ashes otherwise?” Blaise asked.

“I can’t believe you sometimes!” Draco threw his hands in the air.

“It’s fine, I won’t tell,” León promised. Draco gave him a death stare.

“Indeed, you won’t if you’re smart,” he threatened. “The poltergeist wasn’t enough then? You
also had to bring him into this?”

“The poltergeist?” León asked confused.

“Blaise got me a date with moaning Myrtle,” Draco groaned.

“A date?” León laughed loudly.

“Great,” Draco deadpanned. “Go on, make fun of my stupid life! It’s not stupid enough as it
is!” he said moodily.

“It’s not a date,” Blaise said.

“What do you call that then?” Draco glared at him.

“A meeting with a friend”

“A meeting with a friend?” Draco repeated in disbelief. “I know you don’t have much friends
Blaise but if you’re desperate enough to consider that thing a friend, then maybe it’s worse
than I thought”

“She’s not so bad,” León shrugged. Draco rolled his eyes.

“How surprising! First you’re friend with that buffoon living in that slum he calls a hut and
now you’re telling me you like Moaning Myrtle? What’s the next step? Soon you’ll tell me
you like the giant squid too, isn’t it?” he asked sarcastically, his arms crossed on his chest.

“I play the guitar for him when I’m bored. His name’s Salvador by the way,” León shrugged
again. Draco looked at him sceptically, hoping he would burst into laughter and tell him it
was just a bad joke but he didn’t. When he didn’t, Draco turned to look at Blaise, his eyes
wide in disbelief as he shook his head.

“No but tell me he isn’t fucking serious,” Draco deadpanned. He truly was at his limits.

“I think he is,” Blaise chewed his lip.

“What?” León asked.

“You should be a fucking Hufflepuff, that’s what! How you got sorted into Slytherin is
beyond me!” Draco sighed heavily. “Fine, I’m done with this stupid conversation, can we
refocus on what truly matters here please?”

“Oh sure!” Blaise said as he fumbled in his pocket to take the pot of ashes out. He cast an
extension charm on his pockets back in fourth year and he never stopped since then because
it was really useful. When he found the pot, he walked to the sink and filled it with water. He
was about to apply a generous layer of it onto Draco’s skin when Dumbledore’s voice echoed
in the room and the corridors loudly.

“Every students are invited to join me in the Great Hall in the next ten minutes. Please, don’t
be late,” he said before he repeated the sentence.

“Quick! Quick!” Draco urged in a hurry. He took the pot and plunged his hands into it
without second thought. The slimy putty covered his hands and he pulled a face, disgusted.
When he took his hands out of the pot, they were grey and sticky. He swallowed harshly,
fighting the urge to cat in the sink as he asked Blaise to turn on the water. He put his hands
under the tab as he began to wash them frenetically. “A towel please,” he asked Blaise as he
finished to take the mixture off of his skin.

Kindly, Blaise handed him papers but they ripped themselves apart because of water and
Draco groaned, frustrated. Now, there were pieces of paper stuck on his hands as well. Losing
patience, he cast a drying spell on him hands and shook them free from the undesirable
papers. The door flung open and the three of them looked at who came in. A tall man wearing
the official robes of the ministry was glaring at them from the door frame. Draco gulped. He
had seen plenty of Aurors before but their dark blue robes embroidered with gold thread
looked really impressive from his perspective. Besides, the man’s aura was striking. He was
naturally reflecting authority and law. He felt nervous.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked.

Draco froze for a second. He knew that voice from the day he went to his father’s trial at the
ministry. He was positive the man was in the room that day. Feeling as if he’d been
thunderstruck, he didn’t manage to answer.

“Hello sir. I apologise sincerely if you were looking for us but we went outside early this
morning and the rain caught us by surprise and we were covered in mud so we thought we
should clean ourselves a bit before having breakfast,” León improvised easily. Draco was
stunned by his ability to lie.

“In the girls’ bathroom?” the Auror asked sceptically.

“Yes, sir,” León nodded. “The bathroom in our dorm was already taken by someone else and
no one ever comes here because the ghost haunting the place makes everyone
uncomfortable,” he explained.

“Mmh,” the Auror arched an eyebrow but nodded. “I see. Go to the Great Hall, now,” he said.
The boys nodded before they walked past him quickly.

“Draco there’s something we-” Blaise began to whisper before he got interrupted by the
Auror.

“Draco? Draco Malfoy?” The Auror asked. Draco froze and his friends stopped moving.
Unconsciously, Draco held his breath, unable to relax. His shoulders were stiff and his
gestural was a bit robotic, mechanic when he spun on his heels to look at the Auror, taking
the time he needed to compose himself as much and as fast as humanly possible.

“Yes, sir?” he asked, his face blank and his voice controlled despite the dread feeling twisting
his guts.

“I was hoping to see you, actually,” the man said as he approached them. Draco tried not to
look nervous but it was hard.

“What is it, sir?” he asked calmly.

“Your father escaped along with other death eaters,” the man explained and Draco’s lips
parted, shocked. “If you hear from him, please let us know,” he continued, unbothered by the
incredulous look wasting Draco’s beautiful features. “I know this might be hard for you but I
remember now.. You didn’t stay until the end of the trial and I guess it means you disapprove
of your father. So I hope it also means you’ll do anything to keep him locked,” the man gave
him a pointed look.

“Of course, sir,” he nodded. “I’ll talk to an Auror if I hear from him,” he promised with a
small reassuring smile but Draco didn’t mean any of it. He wasn’t stupid. If his father was
out, it was because the Dark Lord wanted him to be. He didn’t plan to help them catch him
again just in case it’d upset Voldemort. He didn’t want to risk it.
The Auror nodded and León, Blaise and Draco walked out the door. Together they went
downstairs and entered the Great Hall. When they arrived, everyone was already gathered
around the tables. León and Blaise immediately walked to sit with Pansy and Theodore but
Draco isolated himself as he often did these days. The news of his father’s escape made him
feel weirdly empty. It felt like his brain was overwhelmed, unable to process the information
properly or even to tell how it felt exactly. His emotions were a pile of autumn leaves the
wind blew on and they were now flying everywhere without any possibility to distinct them.
That was how it felt.

Maybe later, when the information wouldn’t be too fresh, Draco would be able to identify his
feelings but for now he could barely feel anything at all. It was very predictable after all.
Eventually, the Dark Lord would help his partisans to escape Azkaban to inflate the number
of death eaters he could use to plant the seeds of chaos and revolution he was craving to see
happening. It was only a matter of time before Azkaban was entirely emptied from its
residents.

Now that everyone was aware the Dark Lord actually did return like Potter had claimed it for
months last year, it was time to push things further and to begin taking actions – concrete
actions. Draco’s task was part of it but he wasn’t naive enough to believe it was the only
surprise the Dark Lord’s saved for later. He was manipulative and organised, a true conqueror
in the persona of a dark wizard and it felt like he was invincible. Draco was really worried.

Maybe that was the answer he was seeking for actually. Maybe he didn’t feel anything about
his father’s newly found freedom because he didn’t scare him anymore. Maybe Draco finally
realised his father was just a man, like him, a man who could die, cry and hurt. How could he
be scared of someone like him when he’d faced the Dark Lord during the meetings and
survived to Greyback’s bite? He hadn’t realised how much he’d changed already since
summer. It was only three months ago – almost four – and Draco wasn’t the person he used to
be. A shiver ran down his spine when he thought about the man he’d be at the end of the war
– if he ever survived first. Those thoughts were terrifying.

Dumbledore cleared his voice and the room fell silent. Draco was snapped out of his
thoughts. Digging his fist in his cheek, Draco looked up to look at Dumbledore but his eyes
darted in the room, finding the Aurors quickly. He felt uneasy. He knew they were supposed
to take care of the safety of the students and the school in a general way but seeing them all
gathered at the same place was scary. Their presence announced things were going terribly in
the Wizarding World. Draco hated being partly responsible for this.

“….That’s why I’m going to ask each and everyone of you to stand up and show your hands
to the Auror who’s going to check them out,” Dumbledore finished. Draco cursed internally
as he realised he blackout during his speech but that mustn’t have been that interesting
anyway. Although, he wasn’t fond of the idea of showing his hands to the Aurors. He barely
had the time to clean them up before he was interrupted. What if he forgot to clean a stain?

Around him, the other students began to stand up and he knew it was already too late to think
about it. He winced as he stood up as well, though reluctantly. Four Aurors out of twenty
took a step forward before they stood in front of the four tables. Draco gulped. It was really
happening. He sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to get caught. Bracing himself for the
inspection that was coming, Draco clasped his hands in his back and took a deep breath. The
Auror for the Slytherin table began to check on them and Draco recognised the vivid pink
hair of his cousin. He released a sigh imperceptibly. If Tonks took care of the inspection,
maybe he had a chance. She wouldn’t grass him up, right?

The minutes passed and nothing happened. The students waited silently, their palms up on
display to let the Aurors check them out. Draco couldn’t help but glance nervously on his left
and on his right. Snape caught his gaze a few times with a frown and Draco decided he had to
act more subtly if he didn’t want to draw attention on himself. Inhaling slowly, he tried to
calm his heartbeat as Tonks dangerously approached from him. The other Aurors were
finishing to inspect the table they’d been assigned to and Tonks was now right next to him.
Draco would be the last to pass the test and it only increased his anxiety. When Tonks finally
stopped before him, she gave him her hand to take his and he froze. He looked like a spooked
animal and he cursed internally for that because that was definitely not going to help his case.

“Your hand, please,” she said eventually. Draco bit the inside of his cheek, every Slytherins’
eyes were on him and he felt the urge to hide under the table. That was going to be really
humiliating. Reluctantly, he gave her his hand and he waited. The palm was clean and he felt
relieved, honestly. He didn’t dare to check earlier just in case someone would notice because
that would have been really suspicious.

“Nothing on this side,” she whispered to herself before she turned his hand to look at the
back. Draco swallowed and he tried not to widen his eyes when he saw the small, tiny, little
stain of ink in the crook between his middle finger and the nail. If she saw it too, he was
fucked. Next to him, everyone was holding their breath. He felt scrutinised and he abhorred
it. He released a shaky breath when she finally showed the sign that she was about to let go of
his hand but right before she did, her eyes narrowed and she brought his hand closer to her
eyes to have a better look. “Wait what-”

Draco’s heart missed a beat and he felt it sinking in his stomach but before she could finish
her sentence another voice rose from the opposite side of the table.

“It was me!” Blaise confessed, his voice steady and clear. Everyone gasped. Draco’s eyes
widened this time and he tried to protest but an Auror spoke.

“You?” he narrowed his eyes. “Tonks, didn’t you check his hand?”

“I did, Murphy. I didn’t see anything,” she said as she let go of Draco.

“Well? How do you explain that?” the said Murphy asked to Blaise.

“I cleaned them up,” he said without missing a bit.

“May I ask how did you manage to?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

“I used ashes,” he replied. “From an oak tree,” he added since they all seemed very confused.
“You can ask Hagrid if you don’t believe me, I asked him to give me some”
“Very clever, Mr. Zabini. However, I’m afraid I have to ask you to come with me. We’re
going to discuss this situation in my office,” Dumbledore replied as he waited for Blaise to
join him so they could walk together to his office. Blaise glanced one last time at Draco who
tried to apologise but he hadn’t even begun that Blaise was already looking away.

Draco didn’t know what to do. When his eyes met Snape’s, he was sure the answer was
hidden in the disappointed look he shot him. Of course Snape knew. He knew him well
enough to know Blaise would protect Draco against anyone and anything.

Ashamed he didn’t stand up for his friend the way he did for him, Draco ducked his head and
sank on the bench, defeated. It was a tough day for friendship.
 The Snake Eats The Wolf
Chapter Notes

Mention of past torture

Mention of past animal cruelty (nothing graphic)
Mention of past death

Saturday 5th of October 1996.

The sentence fell irrevocably on Friday night.

Blaise would have to endure a month of detention to make up for his behaviour. The teachers
and Dumbledore had to discuss it for a while, the Aurors even suggested to expel him
because he was a Slytherin and they expected one of them to be a death eater so it’d be safer
to get rid of the gangrenous germs before it could infect the other Slytherins.

Dumbledore refused and instead, Blaise received a month of detention.

Draco was still stunned after the way Blaise had stood up for him and he ached to apologise
to him for his lack of reaction when he should have denounced himself. Unfortunately, he
hadn’t seen him since the incident, after that last glance they exchanged discreetly before
Blaise walked out the doors accompanied by Dumbledore and the four Aurors who checked
everyone’s hands. Blaise hadn’t come back at the dorm that night. He’d gone missing for a
while and didn’t resurface until last night. Draco didn’t even get to see him during classes. He
was extremely worried they’d expel him but then he heard Snape muttering under his breath
about it with Regulus and he knew the decision wasn’t made yet.

Last night, when Draco walked back to the dorm, he hadn’t expected to find Blaise’s curtains
closed after being opened the night prior and yet they were. Relief felt like a blessing after
being worried to death for so long. The feeling didn’t last, quickly replaced with the
overwhelming guilt he felt towards the best friend he failed lamentably. His actions had
consequences and he had to be more careful. It had never seemed so true before, but that was
probably because the consequences fell on Blaise’s shoulders this time whereas it was the
very thing Draco wanted to avoid at all cost. He promised himself he wouldn’t do the same
mistake twice.

Alas, the next morning when he awoke after a terrible nightmare, Draco’s promise was
quickly broken. His hands stuffed under the pillow as he slept on his stomach met the strange
fabric of paper instead of the silk fabric of his sheets. He frowned, his eyes not even opened
yet and he didn’t think much of it, still locked in the dazed cloud of sleepiness he was
emerging from. When his brain managed to process the information, he blinked quickly
before his lids finally flung wide open.
Paper? Why would there be paper under his head?

Sure, his trunk became messier days after days after receiving so many letters from Lucius –
though his father had been silent since he escaped Azkaban but Draco suspected the letters
would return soon – but he wasn’t hiding any of them under his pillow as far as he was
aware. The presence of paper under his head was surely very strange.

His hands let go of it before he pushed on them to sit up on his knees swiftly. His eyes
narrowed as he pushed away a strand of hair falling in his silvery eyes. Without hesitation, he
dove his hand under the pillow to take the uncommon discovery grasping his attention so
early in the morning. He fumbled a bit since the paper was thicker than a common letter but
as soon as he managed to get a proper hold of it, Draco took it out. His eyebrows knotted in
confusion as he cocked his head to look at the bundle of papers he was holding. The wards
around his bed produced an awful sound – he would always take them down as soon as his
eyes were opened but this morning was a bit different. He dropped the papers on the mattress
and clapped his hands on his ears to protect them before he grabbed his wand and took the
wards down.

The curtain on his left was snatched by a hand and Draco jumped before he pointed his wand
to whoever was coming in. He relaxed a bit when his eyes caught a glimpse of those long
brown fingers which couldn’t belong to anyone but Blaise. He released a sigh and dropped
the wand on his bed as he eyed his best friend crawling in. A silencing charm was cast before
Draco could even blink.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Blaise winced.

Draco cleared his throat to get rid of his morning voice. “S’okay,” he mumbled as he pushed
the bundle of papers back under his pillow and sat crossed-legs. He’d check on it later, when
he’d be alone. He bent down on the edge of the bed to pick up the shirt he got rid of before
sleeping last night and he put it on quickly. Blaise’s eyes were still locked somewhere around
his ribs when Draco tried to meet his gaze. This time when Draco cleared his voice, it was to
dissipate the awkwardness he felt under Blaise’s scrutinising gaze.

“Oh, sorry,” he said before his eyes snapped away from the spot they were locked in. “Is it- is
it the wolf?” he asked hesitantly.

Draco frowned. A lot of things were the wolves’ fault, really. It was hard to tell which wolf
Blaise was talking about. “Mmh?” he asked.

“It’s your biting scar, right? Somewhere around your ribs?” he asked as he gestured to the
spot he was previously looking. Draco lifted his shirt to take a look. How could he miss the
fangs mark his encounter with the wolf in the wood left there? He pursed his lips when he
pulled on the hem of his shirt to hide his skin again.

“Yeah. Yes it is,” he bit the inside of his cheek. “The other scars are my doing though,” he
added in reference to the scars his own claws left on his skin.

“You did that to yourself?” Blaise asked startled.

“I believe it was the night I couldn’t down the last phial,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah, you did tell me about it”

And he did. Draco told him everything about it. He even told him about that fight he had with
death eaters while turning under the moon influence, still high up in the clouds, flying fast
and bursting through the night on Sirius’ bike. Thinking back about it felt a bit insane. It felt
like a twisted dream, a bad trip he’d been having under the influence of one Blaise’s magic
herbs. It felt weird, surreal. And yet, it was a memory that belonged to him. It was something
that did happen, and it happened to him of all people.

Life was becoming crazy.

Most days, Draco was so caught up in everything that he never stopped a minute to take a
step back and think. Truthfully, he didn’t want to. As long as he didn’t think about the things
he was going through, he was safe. They couldn’t actually hurt him because he didn’t let his
brain process them. One day, he’d have to face them but that day wasn’t here yet. For now, he
had to focus on surviving, he had to focus on his task. Although, that conversation he had had
with Blaise forced him to unravel his feelings one by one in regard to the topic. It’d been
hard, really hard.

Thinking about that night made him sick but now, when he glanced quickly at Blaise, he
couldn’t find it in himself to open up to him again.

See the thing was, talking to Blaise had always been one of the easiest thing Draco had to do.
It was like breathing or eating. Natural. Basic instinct. But ever since Thursday, Draco felt
like he stabbed Blaise in the back whereas it’d never been his idea to let him take the blame
for him. It was the first time they actually saw each other and Draco couldn’t even meet his
eyes.

Coward, he cursed himself bitterly.

Bracing himself for wherever the conversation was going to lead them to, Draco closed his
eyes and exhaled sharply. “Look Blaise-”

“Draco I-”

They spoke at the same time and the comic of the situation drew a chuckling sound out of
them. Draco felt his guts twisting painfully. Blaise wanted to talk to him, too. Maybe what he
had to say was important or maybe it wasn’t. Draco didn’t want to find out either way. His
brain travelled the darkest corners of his mind and made up a scenario he didn’t want to see
coming to life. What if Blaise was definitely done with him? What if Blaise wanted to end
their friendship? Draco wouldn’t survive it. He couldn’t.

Therefore, he refused to acknowledge whatever Blaise wanted to say and spoke again before
his friend could open his mouth again. It was selfish, he knew that, but when had he not been
selfish when it was in his best interest to be?
“Look, Blaise I need you to listen,” he said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. Blaise
blinked slowly but eventually he nodded. “Okay so.. I- I wanted to tell you something”

Well, that was awkward.

You’d think after all the time he had to apologise the past few months he’d get better at it
but.. He didn’t. Unsurprisingly, Draco would rather choke on his pride or die from a dragon
burn than apologising but Blaise had always been the exception to every rules he made.

No one could ever see him cry, but Blaise was allowed to.

No one could ever go against him, but Blaise could.

Draco never shared his bed, but with Blaise he would – and he did, multiple times.

Draco would never share secrets, but he’d pour every single one of them into Blaise and
would definitely make him his secret keeper without a second thought.

Draco would never get into physical fights, but he’d kill for Blaise.

He’d do anything for him. Always for him.

Because he knew Blaise would do the same for him in the blink of an eye, and he did. He did
it multiple time, he got his hands dirty to keep Draco’s clean and he didn’t even hesitate
before doing so. He was loyal like that and Draco wanted to give him the same kind of
loyalty in return. It was really important for him to show him they were equals. To everyone
else, Draco was the Prince of Slytherin, some kind of royalty people feared and admired
without any legit reasons except for the power and the influence his father had in the
community but to Blaise.. Oh, Merlin to Blaise? Draco had always been a little brat, an
adorable little brat he did not fear but loved dearly. The punishment he received to cover for
Draco’s mess was the proof of that mutual devotion. Draco cherished their bond and that was
why he was so afraid to break it, to lose him. Therefore, in those conditions, apologising had
nothing to do with pride. It was vital and that meant so much more than any other thing.

Blaise laced his fingers on top of his knee – the one he pulled back to his chest – as he
crossed his other leg under it and watched Draco expectantly. He was always patient. That
was another thing Draco loved so much about him. Nervously, Draco ran a hand through is
hair.

“Right so, what I’m trying to say is.. I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, okay? I’m going to go
and tell Dumbledore what I did and I’ll fix-”

“You will do no such thing,” Blaise interjected firmly. Draco’s eyes widened a bit and his
gaping mouth shut up.

“Wh- what?” he croaked. “But- But you’re going to have a month of detention you didn’t
even deserve-”

“And I’ll enjoy every single minute of it,” he deadpanned. Draco arched an eyebrow and
Blaise chuckled. “Okay, maybe not every single minute but I’ll do it without complaining at
least. Have you checked under your pillow this morning?” he asked innocently.

Draco looked at him confused. Oh, so that was Blaise’s doing. Who else would be foolish
enough to come and put something under his pillow if not him? Draco snorted at that. “What
is it?” he asked as he took the papers out and dropped them on the mattress between them.
Blaise smirked.

“What do you think it looks like? It’s the folder you were looking for, obviously”

“Obviously?!” he repeated, incredulous.

“Take a look at it and then you’ll thank me,” he nodded towards the bundle of papers and
although Draco doubted it was what he was looking for, he did as he was told.

To his surprise, it was what he was looking for. His lips parted as he lifted his gaze again to
meet Blaise’s eyes. “How did you..?”

“How did I know or how did I do to take it here?”

“Both! Either!” he exclaimed. Blaise chuckled lightly.

“You might think you’re mysterious but you’re pretty easy to read, little Dragon. It wasn’t
that much difficult to put the pieces together after I found out you were questioning
Montague about the vanishing cabinet he disappeared inside last year,” he smirked.

“Wait what? How did you know I was looking for a vanishing cabinet?” he asked, his heart
rate rising quickly and he swallowed inconspicuously.

“Potter, of course,” he shrugged.

“Potter?!”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Well, just like you’re not the most mysterious person I know, Potter is
far from discreet while talking to his friends,” he explained. “I heard he saw you back in the
Summer while you were visiting Borgin and Burkes. He doesn’t know what you were doing
exactly,” he added quickly as Draco’s eyes were so wide they looked like saucers, “but he
mentioned a cabinet and then when I heard about your conversation with Montague, it was
easy to understand”

“How did you find out about my conversation with Montague?”

“He told me,” he shrugged. Draco frowned. People really sucked at keeping secrets in this
school. He had to be more careful.

“That doesn’t explain how you got this,” he gestured to the papers once again.

“It was actually pretty easy. I snatched it from under Dumbledore’s nose,” he smirked. “I
took advantage of the conversation he was having with the teachers in the room next door
and I accioed the folder you needed before I shrunk it to fit in my pocket and.. Ta-da!” he
bowed like a magician after a show. Draco sneered.
“You’re a fucking genius, I could kiss you!” he grinned.

“Do it, you coward!” Blaise teased. Draco froze and a blush spread on his cheeks. “Relax,
I’m just joking,” Blaise said with an eye-roll.

“I know”

“Then why are you redder than a bloody Gryffindor?”

“How did you know you were gay?” he blurted. Blaise stopped laughing instantly as he eyed
him cautiously.

“Why are you asking?” he asked, his gaze suspicious.

“I was just wondering, I never asked you,” he feigned indifference.

Blaise scrutinised him for a few seconds before he nodded. “Remember that Muggle I told
you about?” Draco hummed. “I couldn’t get him out of my head and I enjoyed holding his
hand. After a while, I realised I didn’t want to just hold his hand and so I kissed him. That
was brilliant honestly”

He wondered if that was how he felt. His attraction for León was definitely not as intense as
it once was but he had to admit the few times he took time to look at him, Draco felt like his
stomach did a double backflip. He tried to compare it to what he felt for Potter back in fourth
year but he couldn’t remember exactly. It didn’t matter anyway, it wasn’t like Draco had the
time to deal with love or anything as such. He had a task and he had to remain focus on it if
he wanted to make it out alive. It was a mantra he chanted everyday in silence in his head as
not to lose the aim of everything he did out of sight.

Feelings couldn’t matter.

They didn’t matter when he was five and they still didn’t now he was sixteen. Eleven years
later, he realised some things never changed.

“Oh okay, that makes sense then,” he replied since Blaise was obviously waiting for an
answer. “Thank you, really. For the folder. I don’t know what I would have done without it.
Obviously, I would have found a way to get it eventually but you made it easier. Thank you”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.

“Blaise? I don’t ever want you to get involved into this. Ever again, do you understand?” he
said.

“And what is this exactly?” he asked, his voice deadly serious.

“None of your business”

“Are you in danger?” Blaise asked anyway because of course he would.

“No,” he lied. “I’d appreciate if you kept your nose out of my business, though”
Blaise looked at him defiantly but he pursed his lips together and nodded, a silent agreement
Draco knew for a fact wouldn’t last because Blaise was cunning and he’d find a way to snake
his way back into Draco’s activities sooner or later. That was just how he was.

“Pansy is worried, you know? You’ve been avoiding her since we’re back at Hogwarts,”
Blaise’s voice clipped.

“I’ve been busy,” he lied.

“Busy?” Blaise scoffed. “So you’re too busy to talk to her but you’re not to talk to me?”

“Would you perhaps rather I avoid you too?” Draco threatened.

“I didn’t say that,” he shook his head.

“We sleep in the same dorm, that’s why I talk to you and not to her,” he deadpanned.

“Stop lying for a second, would you? What are you doing Draco?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I don’t know! That’s what drives me up the wall,” his voice raised slightly before he
composed himself and sighed. “Look, I understand, really-”

“Oh, do you?” he snorted bitterly. Blaise glared at him.

“Stop that! I’m trying to help you. We are your friends, you know that surely. So why are you
acting like we’re strangers to you? I don’t wanna fight with you, okay? Just talk to her”

“Mmh,” he replied, pouting. It was childish but that was the best he could do in those
conditions. “Thank you again, but I have places to be now if you don’t mind”

“When don’t you?” he replied sarcastically. Draco brushed it off, unbothered and flicked his
wand to open the curtains and with another wave of the hand, he vanished the silencing
charm Blaise had cast.

After a long shower he believed he deserved, Draco walked upstairs to go to the Great Hall to
have breakfast. His friends were sitting at the usual spot they occupied but Draco walked past
them as though he didn’t see them. That was mean, he knew that. Especially after what Blaise
told him but he intended to keep his distance from them no matter what for their own safety.
Pansy would have to suck it up and get over it. The Draco she missed wasn’t the one who
returned in September anyway. That Draco was already dead.

Too busy demolishing his second round of pancakes, Draco barely noticed when León
straddled the bench and sat in front of him. Although, he did notice him when he stole a
grape form his plate. Draco hexed him before he even finished to lift his gaze. León gasped
and rubbed his aching arm as he looked at him with wide eyes before he laughed, to Draco’s
surprise.

“Wow, I didn’t know food was so important to you,” he laughed.

“Did anybody teach you not to help yourself from other people’s plate?” he mumbled. “I bet
you’re not here for the grapes so what is it that you want?” he asked, going straight to the
point because he didn’t want to waste his time with him. He shoved his fork in his mouth as
he looked at León intensively. His white hair was tightly plaited down over his shoulder and a
few strands of curly hair framed his face.

Marvellous, as usual, Draco thought bitterly, earning another stab to his pancakes.

“I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been pretty distant with everyone these past few
days”

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

“I don’t know. I lied for you,” he reminded him. Draco dropped his fork and leaned over the
table to lock eyes. Ice met silver and Draco was sure to win that fight.

“Do I look like I fucking care whether you lied or not? I didn’t ask you to,” he hissed through
gritted teeth.

“But I did. And we both know it wasn’t Blaise who tried to break into Dumbledore’s office,”
he grinned as he took a bite in a green apple – Draco’s green apple. Draco looked at him as
though he could have killed him but when León took another bite, Draco thought he looked
indecent and looked away. The colour of the apple clashed violently with the paleness of his
skin. Draco felt hypnotised. He had to put himself together before he opened his mouth again.

“Jack Frost grew a pair, uh?” he whistled as he leaned back, his arms tightly crossed on his
chest in a defensive gesture. “Go on then. What are you doing here? Go and tell them!” he
challenged.

“I’m not threatening you,” León raised his hands in defence.

“Are you not?” he snorted.

“No,” he replied calmly.

“What are you doing then?”

“I remind you that you’ve got more friends than you think you do,” he smiled.

“Oh because we’re friends now?” he cocked his head. He wanted to punch his stupid face.

“We could be,” he kept grinning.

“Or I could thank you and never talk to you again. Like, ever,” he deadpanned. León laughed.
It sent shivers down Draco’s spine.

“You could but then who’s going to tell you what I know?”

“And what do you know?”

León tilted his head from left to right, feigning uncertainty. “Mmh, see the thing is I don’t
share informations with people who aren’t my friends and since you’re not interested I think I
should just..” he stood up and began to straddle the bench to leave. Draco groaned.

“Wait!”

Curiosity would kill him someday.

“Mmh? Did you say something?” León gave him a smug smile.

Cheeky bastard.

“Stay and tell me what the fuck you know,” he demanded.

León seemed amused but he didn’t force Draco to reiterate his request and he sat down again
before he leaned over the table to whisper. “There’s a room hidden in the castle where you
could disappear in for a few hours. I don’t know exactly how it works but it’s hidden within
the walls of the seventh floor,” he said.

Draco’s eyebrows twitched. Was all that mystery just for that? He already knew the room
existed! He bloody saw it himself!

“I already know about that!” he hissed.

“Oh? Really? Then I suggest you take the things you hide in your trunk when you think no
one’s here to see and hide them there because there’s an inspection planned tonight,” he said.

“An inspection?”

“A handful of Aurors are going to check our rooms to make sure we don’t have anything
dangerous with us hidden in our dorm,” he explained.

“How do you know that?”

“See that Auror, there?” he nodded to a man leaning against the wall near the professors’
table. Draco nodded. “He’s gay and that was pretty easy to get the informations I needed if
you know what I mean,” he winked. Draco pulled a face.

“What have you done?”

“Nothing sexual, I swear. But a pretty face can get you anywhere if you use it properly,” he
smiled.

“Great,” he mumbled.

“There had been rumours after what happened with Blaise and everything. I thought I should
check myself and so I did”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you, I’m just very friendly”

Draco didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust many people honestly but León? He’d be stupid to
trust him. When they met, Draco thought he was innocent and soft – a Hufflepuff, really – but
then he saw who was hiding under those layers of kindness and those friendly smiles and he
realised why the Sorting Hat sorted him into Slytherin. León kept his cards close to his chest
and Draco was one hundred percent sure there were another ace up his sleeve and he
wouldn’t hesitate to use it one day. After all, he saw him blatantly lying to that Auror back in
the bathroom and now he manipulated another one to get the informations he wanted.

He was dangerous.

At least, he could be if he wanted to be. At this point, León knew too much not to consider
him a threat. Two options were possible to pick: whether Draco accepted his friendship or
he’d have to be extremely careful of what he could do later. Draco had to face the facts:
having him on his side would be more than useful and being his enemy would be extremely
stupid. The crease between his eyebrows softened and Draco stretched out his hand,
decidedly.

“You’re Blaise and Theo’s friend and denying your help would be useless so.. I guess we can
be friends,” he said. León grinned before he shook his hand firmly. Draco didn’t want to be
his friend but he didn’t want to be his enemy neither.

Neutrality should be good.

After that, León left him alone – not without stealing another grape from Draco’s plate,
bastard – and Draco resumed eating his breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the
way Blaise widened his eyes and gestured towards Pansy as he looked at Draco intently. He
probably thought that was subtle but it wasn’t. Draco rolled his eyes and stood up to leave the
Great Hall. When he exited, he saw Potter standing up before Granger pulled on his sleeve
and forced him to sit down. He never thought he’d thank her someday but he did, mentally.

Once he was back in the dungeons, Draco closed the door of his dorm and walked to his
trunk. He knelt in front of it to open it and he took out the pile of letters he kept hidden in the
secret trap of his trunk. There must have been fifty letters here. Draco sighed. He wished his
father could stop harassing him about the Dark Mark. It was very obvious he would take it,
couldn’t he just leave him alone? Annoyed, Draco shrunk the letters until they reached the
size of a coin and he shoved them into the pocket of his robes before he straightened to his
full height. He wasn’t sure the Aurors would be allowed to read the letters but in case they
were, he preferred hiding them somewhere else. He took a step towards the door before he
came to a halt. Slowly, he spun on his heels and fixed his gaze on his bedside table, his lips
pursed and his brain running wild.

Of course they’d check here too.

He mumbled something about how much of a pain in the arse they were before he strutted to
the furniture and pulled on the drawer harshly. He fumbled into it to find the different papers
on which he gathered the informations about the vanishing cabinet and the runes he copied.
He folded them neatly and he put them in his pockets along with the letters. He took his wand
out and he flicked it carelessly to tidy the drawer a bit because it looked like a storm ravaged
it. Once it was done, he took the folder Blaise gave him and pushed the drawer to close it
before he stormed out of the dorm.

He wanted to work on his task today, taking advantage of the fact it was Saturday and his
homework were done. He had no essay to write, no detention to go to and no one to distract
him. It seemed to be the perfect time to decipher the runes. He wasn’t sure what they meant
thus far, he was still trying to find the combination they were made of but he did find one or
two already and that was promising enough to make him feel good.

Draco decided that he shouldn’t comprehend the reality of his task the way he did until now,
instead he thought of it as a game, a riddle he had to solve. For now, it worked more or less –
sometimes less than more but still – and his anxiety was under control most days so he
decided it was for the better. He was so far from achieving his task that translating those
runes would not cause any damage beyond repair. It was innocent.

He barely had the time to put a foot outside of the common room that a hand grabbed him by
the collar and pushed him into a deserted classroom. Draco’s wand was out within a second
and when he spun on his heels, he was ready to hex his attacker into oblivion. But when he
did face the person who shoved him into the first empty classroom, Draco’s mouth fell agape.

“Pr- professors?” he stuttered. His hand squeezed his wand unconsciously and he shoved it
back into his robes.

In the corner of the class, Regulus was leaning against the wall, obviously annoyed. His arms
were tightly crossed on his chest and his eyes were dark and dangerous from where he was.
Well, that was predictable. Although, they were not alone. Snape was there too and judging
by the way he was standing close to Draco, it must have been him who dragged him here.
Draco looked at him confused.

“Why did you try to enter into Dumbledore’s office?” Snape asked calmly. Draco gulped. He
didn’t want to lie to his Godfather.

“I didn’t! It was Blaise who-”

“Cut the act, already,” Regulus snapped from afar. “We both know Blaise took the blame but
was not guilty”

“Oh really? Then why did you let him face the punishment?” he challenged. “I know you
both were among the teachers Dumbledore gathered to discuss the situation”

“He was stupid enough to protect you and even if his intentions were good, there are always
consequences,” Regulus replied.

“So I repeat: why did you try to break into Dumbledore’s office?” Snape asked again slowly.
Draco refused to answer.

“We’re only trying to help,” Regulus said after a pause that was way too long.
“As if,” Draco snorted.

“We could denounce you,” Snape snapped. “You’ve been reckless and stupid!”

Draco didn’t talk.

“I promised to your mother that I would protect you. We both did,” Snape continued.

Draco didn’t talk.

“You put yourself and your fellow students in danger, do you realise that?” Snape tried again.

Draco refused to talk.

“Draco,” Regulus sighed. Draco whipped his head to look at him, his lips continuously
sealed. “Draco, the Aurors are being suspicious. They already know one of you is a death
eater. Do you understand what I am saying?” he said softly.

Draco looked away and crossed his arms tighter, stubborn as hell. He didn’t want to explain
himself, especially not to them. Their arguments weren’t bad, they were just not good
enough. Draco couldn’t care less if he ended up in Azkaban. He was probably going to,
anyway. He didn’t trust them for the very same reasons as before and therefore he didn’t give
much credit to their concerns. So many things could go wrong if he dared to talk to them.
Regulus and Snape exchanged a look and Regulus shook his head.

“No, Severus. Don’t even think about it”

“He doesn’t leave me the choice,” Snape replied.

“No! He will never trust us if you do that!”

“What? What are you talking-”

“Legilimens!”

“What an idiot,” Regulus mumbled from somewhere really far away.

It was the last thing Draco heard before he squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to repel
Snape out of his head. He tried very hard not to let him see what was hidden in his head, the
secrets he kept but Draco wasn’t ready for the attack and so he let Snape catch a few glimpse
of his memories. He never had to use occlumency in real conditions, it was only exercises
before and he was always expecting it. This was different. For one, Snape was strong,
stronger than Bellatrix and he was determined to get into his head. Behind his lids flashed the
forest in which he turned for the first time, the laughters he shared with Blaise and that time
he cried like a baby in his arms after he heard about Buckbeak death sentence. He saw flashes
of his quill scratching the blank pages of the diary he used to write in back in third year and
he saw the messy handwriting which would always answer him appearing on the paper. He
saw the fight he had with Lucius about his future, the first time he flew on a broom before he
could even walk and finally the Vanishing Cabinet back at Borgin and Burkes.
Draco grit his teeth when he saw the cabinet and he let out a strangled noise. He squeezed his
lids tighter and finally he managed to raise the first mental barrier. It was hard. Snape was
restless and as soon as he erected the barrier, Snape broke it down effortlessly. Draco’s chest
heaved as he tried hard to win this mental fight. He had to. His breathing became shallow and
laborious as he gripped the table he was leaning against and his knuckles turned white. His
jaw clenched as he doubled his efforts to gather all the mental strength he could. Snape was
still searching his memory ruthlessly so Draco had no choice but deviating him from the
memory he was trying to find but Snape didn’t give up and reinforced his spell, forcing
Draco to revisit the worst memories of his life. He caught a flash of the night he was attacked
by Greyback, the way his flesh was ripped under his claws and the first time he was tortured
by Greyback and Voldemort over the summer. He relived the first time he turned and the pain
felt vivid in his bones. He could almost hear them cracking again. It was awful.

“Enough!” he roared at the same time he erected a dozen of mental barriers and finally
ejected Snape out of his head. Snape stumbled as he snapped back to reality and Draco glared
at him, panting. He struggled to catch his breath and his eyes were wet with both pain and
shame. He wanted to cry but more importantly he was extremely mad at Snape for intruding
his intimacy like that. “How dare you?! That was private!” he shouted, out of his mind. His
eyes could’ve popped out of his skull.

Snape didn’t speak, he simply looked at him as though he didn’t know who he was. Draco
thought that he didn’t. The man standing in front of him felt like a stranger. He would have
never thought he’d dare doing something that awful and now.. Now he knew. Draco tried his
best not to let him see, not to show him the monster he’d become – because someday he still
thought of himself as a monster despite what he’d told Remus – but he failed and now Snape
knew. He knew his godson was a werewolf.

A wave of sickness shook his body and Draco repressed the urge to vomit right on Snape’s
feet. Although he would have deserved it for what he’d just done, Draco didn’t fancy the idea
of humiliating himself any further. Regulus opened his mouth, his features distorted with
concern as he looked at both Snape and him but Draco didn’t want to hear anything he had to
say. Regulus was right earlier, Draco would never ever trust them. Not after that. That was
stupid. Snape should have known better. Nothing excused his behaviour. Draco glared at
them, his face coated with pure rage before he stormed out of the room. Snape didn’t try to
stop him.

Maybe it would have been easier to handle had Snape at least tried to apologise. But if his
father was a proud man, Snape was a whole other level and Draco didn’t expect an apology
from him. Not anymore. He rushed through the corridors without even thinking, he just
wanted to get away. León’s suggestion didn’t sound as stupid as it did earlier. He truly wished
he could disappear out of the world for a few hours. Besides, he still had to empty his pockets
somewhere, right?

When he came close to the seventh floor, Draco’s instinct awoke abruptly, triggered by
Potter’s presence following him like a shadow. Draco growled. He really didn’t want to deal
with him right now. Surprisingly, his first instinct wasn’t even to punch him. He was too
angry for that. No, what he really wanted was the Gryffindor left him alone. Thankfully, what
Draco wanted, Draco would have. He was smart enough for that. Therefore, when he spun on
his heels and walked fast in the other direction, he felt Potter moving to rest against the wall
until Draco would have walked past him. Unfortunately, Draco knew exactly where he was,
his instinct more precise than ever, and so when he’d raise his wand next to him, he knew
he’d hit him exactly where he wanted to.

He stopped somewhere in the corridor. Potter was on his left waiting carefully. His breathing
was loud in the silence. He didn’t manage to calm it down after leaving the dungeons because
he was still extremely angry. Draco raised his wand so fast Potter barely had the time to react
and cast protego.

“Wait!” Potter shrieked.

Draco didn’t listen and he cast spells after spells, obviously taking all of his anger on his
opponent who definitely could take it. He dodged the spells and shielded himself easily
which only made Draco angrier. He wanted Potter to fight back but all the spells he used
were defensive. Not once he attacked. Draco shouted in frustration, casting another spell.

“Fight back!” he spat vehemently.

“No!”

“Fight!”

“I’m not going to fight you!”

“Then why are you here?” he yelled. “Why are you following me if you don’t want to fight!”

“I would have told you if you just-” he dodged another aggressive spell. “Stop it!” but Draco
cast another spell. “Malfoy stop!” but Draco didn't listen and another spell flew and struck
the wall behind Potter’s head. “Expelliarmus!”

Draco’s wand slipped out of his grip and flew to Potter who caught it easily. Draco saw red.
His eyes wide and mad, the necessity to punch him came back full force.

He launched himself at him but Potter slid on the left to dodge him again. Before Draco
understood what was happening, his cheek met the cold surface of the wall and his arm was
locked in his back. One of Potter’s hand maintained his head against the wall while his elbow
pinned him by the shoulder and his knee applied pressure behind Draco’s right thigh to keep
him there.

“Let go of me!” he snarled, struggling harshly to get away.

“Stop,” Potter said, his tone firm but his voice gentle. “You’re going to hurt yourself”

“You’re the one hurting me!” he shouted. Potter’s grip loosened slightly but he kept him
pinned against the wall nonetheless. Draco was shaking between the other boy's hands, he
could feel it and he hated himself for that but he stopped struggling and he turned his head
with difficulty to lean his forehead against the wall. Potter let him.
“Breathe, it’s okay,” he whispered without letting him go. Draco felt a tear falling on his
cheek and he gritted his teeth not to let the valve open. He was glad his face was hidden by
the wall and Potter was behind him so he wouldn’t witness his weakness. He released a shaky
breath and he tried to inhale deeply but his lungs burnt. “Breathe,” Potter’s soothing voice
repeated softly. It took a minute or two before Draco managed to calm down entirely. He
relaxed against him, his shoulders slumped and his body stopped shaking. “Can I let go
now?” Draco nodded slowly and so he finally let go.

Draco wiped the tears away and rubbed his face. He didn’t dare looking at him, he felt
ashamed for losing it so bad but when he finally did look at him, Potter’s emerald eyes were
soft and kind. No trace of past hatred shone in his irises and Draco felt a bit stunned by the
magnificence of his eyes when they didn’t look stormy. It felt weird not to be looked at as
though he was the Devil’s spawn. That was unusual.

“I didn’t follow you to piss you off, this time,” Potter said. “I just want my cloak back”

“Why did you use a disillusionment charm then?” he rasped.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t plan to use it at first but I sort of wanted to
back out when I saw you from afar and I tried to hide. But then I thought it was ridiculous-”

“I don’t have your cloak,” he interjected to stop Potter from rambling.

“What? Where is it?”

“Somewhere safe”

“Okay, fetch it then”

“I can’t right now”

“But I-”

“Look, I don’t even know if I want to give it back to you,” he snapped.

“Why not?”

“So you won’t be able to use it to follow me, again”

“I understand but I really need it”

Draco scowled at him before he spun on his heels and kept walking, leaving him behind.
Why would he care about Potter’s needs anyway?

“It’s not mine!” Potter called and Draco stopped. He frowned as he spun his head to look at
him.

“Sorry?”
“The cloak isn’t mine, it’s my dad’s. He needs it,” he took a step forward when Draco arched
an eyebrow, unconvinced. Potter sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know
how you became close to my uncle so much he’d ask a favour to my dad for you but
obviously, you are. If he means as much to you as you mean to him, please give me back the
cloak. My dad needs it for.. For Sirius,” he admitted hesitantly.

“What’s wrong with Sirius?” he asked immediately alarmed.

“Nothing, not really,” he winced. “He’s not- he’s fine. It’s just that.. The ministry is sending a
few Aurors to Remus’ to check on him because of the werewolves register. Anyway, that’s
not the point. The issue is that they could find Sirius there during their visit but the thing is
Sirius can’t escape without the cloak,” he explained. “Please Malfoy, I really need it”

Draco pursed his lips before he nodded reluctantly. “When do you need it?”

“My father said he’d come and get it next week, on Saturday morning”

“He doesn’t know you lost it, does he?” he deadpanned.

“I didn’t lose it! You stole it,” Potter defended himself.

“I confiscated it,” he corrected. “Fine. Join me in the Astronomy tower next Friday at
midnight. I’ll bring the cloak,” he promised. Potter nodded.

“Thank you Malfoy”

“Shut the fuck up,” he replied idly before he walked away.

When he finally reached the wall of the Room of Requirement, Potter wasn’t following him
anymore. He paced thrice in front of the wall and thought hard about a place where he could
hide himself and hide stuff too. A door carved the wall and Draco pushed it easily after he
made sure no one was there.

On the other side of the door, the room looked nothing like it did last year. Piles and piles of
furnitures and books and newspapers were rising from the ground up to the ceiling in the
entryway. There were so many items covering the floor that it created artificial aisles. Draco
walked through one of them for a while before he realised the room was gigantic enough to
get lost. He retraced his steps carefully after a few more minutes of exploration. Somewhere
mid-way to the entrance, Draco’s eye caught a glimpse of a shining jewel resting under a pile
of clothes. The jewel was entirely hidden under, swallowed by the sea of clothes but one of
its corner resisted and reflected the light of lamps and chandeliers illuminating the room.
Draco frowned slightly before he walked up to it. He knelt and took it in his hands. It looked
like a diadem. Draco inspected it with high interest. He loved jewels a lot, especially those
which were made of beautiful stones such as the diadem he admired. It shone so bright,
Draco could see his own reflection in it. It was sublime.

Draco decided it shouldn’t be here, it wasn’t good enough for it. He walked back to the
entryway with the diadem between his hands and he grabbed a box resting on top of a pile of
boxes near the entrance. He put the diadem in it and he put it on a table so he’d be able to
find it again later to admire it with the same morbid fascination he admired the onyx necklace
at Borgin and Burkes. He didn’t know why but something about the diadem felt off and so it
fascinated him. Then, he took another box and he hid the letters from his pockets inside of it
and in a third box he dropped his researches about the vanishing cabinet. He knew he should
work on his task but the day had been exhausting and he didn’t want to do that right now.

Instead, Draco sat near the door and rested his head against the wall. When he looked up, he
saw the pile of newspapers which caught his eye when he entered. With a quick flick of the
wand he took the six first ones and he read them to keep himself busy. They were not so old,
barely a few months back, so he had read them already but it kept his brain off for a while
and it felt nice. When came the time to finally read the last one, Draco realised it was from a
different newspaper: the Daily Prophet. Draco frowned slightly before he flipped it over to
read the first page. His heart dropped in his stomach and his eyes widened with horror. He
released a shaky breath as he read the words “Rita Skeeter is Dead!” of the headline.

Rita Skeeter was dead and Draco found out three months later. Rita Skeeter was dead and
Draco knew exactly who was to blame for that ‘accidental death’.

Not for the first time that day, Draco wished he had stayed in bed this morning.
 Sublime Hope
Chapter Notes

TW Past domestic violence

TW Past torture
Mention of past murder
Mention of miscarriage

French is back this chapter so I put the translation in the end notes 😼
See the end of the chapter for more notes

Wednesday 9th of October 1996.

Draco wasn’t one to hold a grudge against people but he definitely did against Snape. He
couldn’t tell if that attitude had been triggered by the surprise of his behaviour or if maybe it
had been because he felt like he’d been betrayed by his godfather but Draco refused to let go
of what happened, no matter what Snape tried to say. Because he did try. Although, Draco
thought it was too late to say anything, he should have apologised right after instead of
looking at him like he was a freak he pitied. Draco couldn’t forget his face after he saw the
memories. It made him so sad. Even Blaise reacted better. So, when Snape tried to keep him
after class to talk, Draco pretended he didn’t hear and stormed out of the room. It was rude,
he knew that but he couldn’t care less. He didn’t have time to waste moping about that
anyway. He had bigger issues to deal with.

His mother was probably a murderer.

After he read the article relating Rita Skeeter’s death, he burnt it with the letters his father
sent him because he didn’t want to face the reality of it. He had no proof of course, her death
was said to be accidental – an explosion due to a gas leak the mayor of the town had said to
the journalists – but Draco wasn’t stupid. She’d died so early after he caught Bellatrix and
Narcissa scheming in his living-room that it couldn’t be a coincidence. It was too suspicious
to be trivial. Besides, he knew both Bellatrix and Narcissa were not on good terms with the
journalist, even before she came and accused Draco of being a werewolf. The two sisters
planning and orchestrating her murder made sense, at least more than the accidental gas leak
everyone talked about.

Thinking of his mother as a murderer felt extremely weird. It didn’t feel like those words
were supposed to ever associate and yet. His mother was a murderer. He hesitated before
talking about it to Blaise but he did eventually because Blaise would understand – since his
mother was also a murderer. Unsurprisingly, his reaction was to laugh. Narcissa looked so
soft on the outside, no one could think she’d ever do something like that. But she did.
Because she was like that. She had it in her to do something that horrible. People often
underestimated her and that was their biggest mistake because she proved herself to be just as
fierce as she’s charming and she never knew when to back down – a trait almost every Black
he met shared.

His mother was not as angelic as everyone thought. Draco saw her crushing multiple wizard
families under her heels to preserve Lucius’ reputation through the years. Everyone thought
Lucius was the leader of the family but he never was, not really. Not when it mattered.
Narcissa was pulling the strings in backstage and she made sure everything rolled smoothly
for every single one of her relatives. That was how she was. Lucius was just louder, a
spokesperson reflecting the family image in society because it wasn’t common for a woman
to be in power. To this day, the only thing she failed to control was the situation with
Voldemort but that was because Lucius went behind her back – as he often did – and caused
damages even she couldn’t fix.

Therefore, Narcissa was the real leader of the family and she had it in her to kill people if it
came to that. Never directly, she wouldn’t dare to stain her hands with someone else’s blood
but she had the means to make it happen if needed and she knew people who would happily
do the dirty work for her. Her best weapon surely was Bellatrix in this case. Considering the
situation, Rita Skeeter left her no choice. Wasn’t it strange she died the week after she
threatened to expose Draco? He thought it was. He was convinced his mother was behind her
murder but he couldn’t be sure and he didn’t know how to bring it up when he’d talk to her. It
was a bit touchy and he couldn’t very well just go and ask her.

He was perturbed nevertheless. It was disturbing to know his mother had done that in his
name – because of course, if she really was responsible, it made no doubt that she did it to
protect him – and he felt guilty. He didn’t want people to die so he’d be safe. It didn’t feel
fair. On the other hand, he was planning her murder too, that day. So he understood why his
mother would have thought it was the best thing to do. He did too. However, he would have
never put his plan into action because deep down he knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind
to deal with it and his reaction was disproportional. His mother didn’t share his opinion, it
seemed.

His head was clouded, almost as much as his cauldron as he was brewing a Memory Potion.
Regulus asked them to brew that potion but he left them the choice to do it alone or with
someone else. Draco obviously chose to do it alone even though Blaise could have used his
help if the flames under his cauldron shining in a threatening shade of pink instead of pale
blue were anything to judge by. Draco wondered why they were doing something like that in
class when the war was coming and the students should learn something more useful to be
able to protect themselves but he brewed it with no complain.

Potter eyed him several time and every time their eyes locked, Draco scowled at him. Just
because he agreed to give his cloak back didn’t mean they were friends. They were not,
Draco still hated his guts. He dreaded the moment he’d have to meet with him in the
astronomy tower. What if he suspected something was off with him and he dug, like he
always did? Draco wasn’t stupid, he knew he acted weirder than usually these days but he
had so much in mind. He tried his best to school his facial expressions but his expressive eyes
gave him away. For someone who was already suspicious, Draco didn’t doubt Potter noticed.
When he lifted his chin once again from his cauldron to see how Blaise was doing, his eyes
found Potter’s cauldron instead. He was working on the potion with Weasley but he seemed
to do pretty well on his own which was unfathomable.

Harry Potter, being good at potions?

The very same Harry Potter who burnt the curtains of the room in third year when he tried to
brew the Wiggenweld potion? Something didn’t seem right but Draco hadn’t paid enough
attention to him lately to notice if it was common occurrence or if it was just him being lucky
that day. Either way, Draco decided it was the perfect opportunity to piss Potter off almost as
much as he pissed Draco off most days. If his potion was bound to be a success, then Draco
would make sure it wouldn’t be.

When Draco walked to the shelf to take a phial so he could hand in his work, he also took a
Kappa scale from the ingredients boxes and he shoved it into the pocket of his robes, a sneer
on his face. It felt like he hadn’t done something like that in forever and the familiarity of it
felt really comforting. He couldn’t believe he was about to prank Potter again.

He used a ladle to pour a bit of his concoction in the phial and he walked to Regulus’ table to
cap it and label it with his name. When he walked back to his table to gather his stuff, he
dropped the Kappa scale into Potter and Weasley’s cauldron while they were too busy
bickering about the number of times they stirred the mixture – Potter thought they did it six
times, Weasley said eight. Then, Draco piled his books quickly to tuck them under his arm.

“Ron stop!” Potter wailed before the Memory Potion turned extremely liquid and began to
pour out of the cauldron as though it was sentient. It snaked on the floor like a big puddle of
mud and it threw itself at a student who was working peacefully. Regulus just had the time to
raise his wand and capture the crazy precipitate Weasley and Potter obtained before it could
splash onto the student who looked shocked.

“Well, that was definitely not the result I was expecting you to get,” Regulus said as he
examined the content of the box he trapped it in. He spun on his heels to look at Potter and
Weasley. “Do you know why it happened?”

“I don’t know,” Potter said before he added quickly “Professor”

“Mmh,” he nodded before he enveloped the room with his gaze. His eyes fell on Draco but he
was sure he wouldn’t be able to prove he did something to their potion so he gave Regulus an
unimpressed look. He must have been right because Regulus dropped his gaze and refocused
on Potter and Weasley. “Did you add a Kappa scale?”

“Of course not!” Potter answered offended. “Professor,” he belatedly added.

“Mr Weasley?” Regulus asked.

Ron looked at his laps. “Well.. I don’t know?” he said.

“You don’t know?”

“I’m sure I didn’t but I must’ve, obviously,” his face was redder than his hair and Draco
sneered from where he was. Oh this was so good. The defeated look on Potter’s face,
Weasley's blush and the disapproving look on Regulus’ face were all too good to look at. He
missed this. Causing chaos in Potter’s life was a second-nature at this point and it made such
a good distraction from his own problems. He had to admit he enjoyed it immensely.

“Obviously.. Something amuse you, Mr Malfoy?”

“No,” he sobered up quickly, surprised he got caught laughing. “Of course not, professor”

“Of course,” he repeated flatly. This time, Regulus didn’t stop looking at him and Draco felt
uncomfortable just like the first time he’d been alone with Regulus in his office. Draco
couldn’t point out why he felt like a child under his scrutinising gaze but Regulus had that
power to make him feel really small. Not even Snape could. It felt a bit as if Regulus wasn’t
looking at you but directly at your soul and it was an extremely weird feeling, one Draco
didn’t like. Regulus finally snapped his eyes away from Draco who released a little sigh,
relieved.

“Please, bring your phials to the front and don’t forget to tag them so I know who it belongs
to,” Regulus asked before he sat behind his desk. The classroom erupted in chatters and the
brouhaha slowly subdued when the students began to bring their phials at the front and leave.
Draco quickly walked past Regulus to exit the room before he could talk to him but Regulus
was quicker. “Mr Malfoy, please stay. I’m sure you have a minute or two before your next
class,” he said politely.

Draco groaned internally. Of course he had a minute. He had even more than that. He had
two free hours after that class and he intended to go and pick up Potter’s cloak from the
shrieking shack where he hid it before the last full moon because he wouldn’t have a single
free moment before Saturday. Draco pressed himself against the wall as he watched the other
students leaving the class one by one. Potter stormed out of the room and resumed bickering
with Weasley about whose fault it was that they failed the exercise. Draco had to bit down a
laugh. He kind of missed this, actually. Doing mundane things, that is. He hadn’t realised
how easy his life used to be at the time when all he had to care about was the pranks he
would pull on Potter to drive him mad. It felt so far away now, like a time period that
belonged to history and not to his very own life. As though it’d been centuries and not just a
few months ago.

“Draco?” Regulus soft voice snapped him out of his head.

“Yes, professor?”

“We’re not in class, you can call me Regulus. Harry doesn’t refrain from doing so,” his lips
twitched.

“I’d rather not, professor,” he replied politely, clasping his hands in his back.

That’s it, dig the distance between you two, he thought. But Regulus’ warm eyes were
clouded for a short instant with something that looked like pain. Perhaps it meant more to
Regulus than it did to him. Draco didn’t understand but then he remembered he was supposed
to have been close to that man once. Just because he forgot didn’t mean Regulus did too. It
was hard to keep in mind sometimes.

“Fair enough”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said after a pause. “It’s just that I.. Well..”

“I know you don’t remember me,” he said matter-of-factly. Draco looked at him with
curiosity but didn’t say anything. “Severus didn’t see anything about me in your head. Not
even a glimpse”

“I’m a good occlumens,” he said.

“I know you are, he said so. But he still caught a glimpse of my brother which, I must admit,
is quite surprising”

“Is it?” he arched an eyebrow. Maybe he was close to Sirius too when he was younger and he
just didn’t know. That thought never bloomed in his head before but now he thought he
should ask to Sirius next time they’d meet.

“Yes, it is,” Regulus confirmed before he skirted his desk and sat on it. “The potion I asked
you to brew today is one of my personal recipe,” he explained. “I gave everyone else the
basic recipe but for yours.. I gave you mine”

“Why?” he asked confused.

“Because if today we’re facing such upsetting situation is because of your absence of
memories. I was strongly disagreeing with Professor Snape when I understood he wanted to
use Legilimency on you at first but then when he told me.. Something clicked in my mind
and I realised you were not treating me like a stranger. I am a stranger to you,” he explained.
“You were not punishing me for abandoning you-”

“Is that what you did?” he interjected. “You never tried to come to me, you just went along
with my father’s decision and you left me,” he gestured vaguely with his hand.

“I did not! I came back. Often. Certainly more than I should have,” he admitted. “Your father
never let me see you so I did the only thing I could think of and I used my animagus form to
check on you from time to time”

“Sure,” he snorted. “And you expect me to take you at your word?”

“No,” he shook his head. A pause. “What were you doing with Sirius and Remus back in
July?” he asked.

“How did you- Did you lie? Did Snape also see that? It wasn’t just a glimpse of Sirius, right?
He just saw him!”

“No,” he denied.

“Then how do you know about that?” he asked waryly.

“I saw you there when I came checking on Remus,” he explained. “You tried to chase me
away with a pine cone”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed before he suddenly remembered the raven which obsessed him
for a while back in Summer. “You felt so familiar. I mean.. The bird did,” he breathed
confused. “Wh- why? What’s going on? Who are you exactly?” he asked.

“You already know that. That’s not the piece you’re missing,” he said.

Draco eyed the potion he brewed with curiosity, though a bit wary. “What does your version
of the Memory Potion do?”

“It revives memories buried or locked inside your head,” he explained.

“So.. If I drink that, I will remember you?” he asked cautiously.

“Unless someone took them out of your head and so I won’t be able to do anything,” he
pursed his lips.

“You think that’s what happened?” Draco asked startled.

“It’s a possibility”

Draco took the phial between his hands and looked at it, uncertain whether he should drink it
or not. Sure, he brewed it himself but he had no idea he was brewing a different potion
because Regulus changed the recipe for him and he didn’t trust him enough to swallow
anything Regulus asked him to.

“My cauldron is still full. Drink some, first,” Draco demanded. Regulus looked at him flatly
before he took a phial and walked to the cauldron. He gathered a small quantity in the phial
and he downed it without hesitation. “Wait!” Draco said but he had swallowed it already.

“What?”

“I could have failed that potion!”

“You did not”

“You didn’t know that before you drank it”

“I did. I watched you brewing it. If you failed, I would have given you one from my personal
stack”

Draco looked at him as though a third eye had grown on his forehead. “You’re insane”

“I know, that’s the bane of my existence. Now, drink it”

Draco narrowed his eyes as he looked at his phial. He took a breath through the nose and he
swallowed the content of the phial reluctantly. Once it was done, he put the empty phial on
the desk and looked at Regulus.
“What do we do now?”

“We wait”

“How long?”

“Only a few minutes should be enough,” he reassured.

Draco leaned against the wall as he waited for the potion to kick in. He wondered how it’d
feel to have his memories unlocked. He also wondered what kind of memories he could have
forgotten. Suddenly, he began to have second-thought about the whole thing. Maybe he
shouldn’t have tried to get his memories back, maybe the potion would reveal things that
were better off buried inside his head. The brain was weird like that sometimes.

“He didn’t mean to piss you off,” Regulus spoke eventually. “Snape. He’s just really worried
about you and.. Well you’re not really talkative. You’ve barely spoken to him lately”

“I wonder why,” he replied flatly.

“Look, I understand. My mother loved intruding our minds without our consent. I know how
it feels to have someone violating your intimacy in the worst way but Snape was only trying
to help you. That’s the difference. He did mean no harm when he’s done that. He’s just
worried about you. Something is not right about you and we can’t find a reason explaining
why you would have tried to break in Dumbledore’s office. We don’t understand why you
would put yourself in danger,” he tried to reason but Draco groaned.

“Not this again! Why can’t you just leave it?” he asked exasperated.

“Because I’m not sure you realise what you just did!”

“I believe I do,” he scoffed. “Considering how you two are trying so hard to make me spill
my guts about it!”

“I didn’t ask you anything,” he deadpanned. Draco glared at him.

“You might as well have”

“But I didn’t. I’m not interested in the answer, If I have to be honest,” Draco shot him a
quizzical look.

“Are you not? Is that some reversed psychology or some bullshit like that?” his eyes
narrowed.

“It could’ve been but no. What’s done is done, I don’t believe it’d be really useful to know
why you’ve done it. On the other hand, what I have to make sure of is that you understand
how stupid it was. I need you to give me your word you won’t do something like that again,”
he asked calmly.

“As if my word worthed anything”

“It does,” a pause. “To me,” he added.

Draco eyed him curiously, he wasn’t sure whether or not he was lying. It was hard to tell.
Before he could answer, a succession of memories flashed behind his lids. The potion kicked
in. He saw himself playing in the garden back at the manor with Pansy. They must have been
four or five. He saw himself pushing her on the swing as she flapped her arms like a bird and
laughed. His heart clenched. He hadn’t realised how much he missed her but he failed to keep
Blaise at distance and he couldn’t risk to put her in danger as well.

Another memory appeared and replaced the last one. He was around eight years old. He was
sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast and his parents were having a bad argument behind
him, in the living-room. When he hopped himself down the chair and went to check on them,
he walked in on Lucius hitting Narcissa in the face. Lucius looked immediately remorseful
and he apologised to her so many times, rambling apologies after apologies but the harm was
done and Draco had witnessed it. He had gasped and dropped the plate he was holding,
shocked. The plate shattered on the floor and he cried so hard it drew their attention onto
him.

Another memory flashed in his head before he could see how the last one ended and he saw
himself at five or six years old. Lucius was having another bad argument but this time it was
with a wizard Draco didn’t recognise – he probably forgot about him after all those years.
They were in Knockturn Alley and it was dark but Draco couldn’t place the memory
precisely. At some point, Lucius must have said the wrong thing because a red flash of light
sprung from the tip of the other wizard’s wand and Draco, who originally was hiding behind
his father, circled Lucius’ waist as he rested his head on his stomach to protect him when he
felt his father’s magic warming the environment around him – the indication he probably cast
a shield in a vain attempt to protect him. Although, he was still hit by the spell – which
happened to be the Cruciatus curse – because Lucius hadn’t reacted fast enough when he cast
it and the curse hit Draco before the shield was fully formed.

Draco didn’t see it in the memory but he remembered that he spent a few weeks at St
Mungo's when he was really young. That must have been why. He also remembered his
father stayed by his side every day until he left. Narcissa was there too but she was pregnant
and exhausted and so she went home more often than Lucius to sleep in a proper bed. Draco
always wondered if he was the reason his mother lost the baby a few weeks after he left the
hospital. He swallowed the thought like broken glass and refocused on the facts the memory
supplied. He felt a bit stunned. It was the proof he could be brave, too. Sure, he was really
young but Draco knew spells could hurt people and he did jump in front of his father to
protect him nevertheless. That was some demonstration of bravery which could compete with
a bloody Gryffindor’s.

The last memory he saw was a memory of Sirius when he was very young – younger than in
any other memories. He must have been three in this one. Half of the memory was blurry
contrary to the others he saw before. He couldn’t tell where he was or who was there either.
He just remembered he caught a glimpse of Sirius in a picture someone else was holding –
though he couldn’t see their face – and he was trying to pronounce Sirius’ name properly.
The memory was shorter than the others, probably because of the lack of information his
brain managed to supply.
“Did it work?” Regulus asked carefully, his tone hopeful when he saw Draco coming back to
himself and a certain vulnerability on display on his features. “Do you remember me?” he
asked softly.

Draco swallowed and blinked quickly before he pushed on his arms and took Regulus’ hand
to stand up. He didn’t even notice he’d fallen. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Regulus pursed his lips and his gaze hardened but he shook his head and smiled weakly. “It’s
okay. It’s not your fault,” he said. Draco looked at him with a little bit of concern in the eyes
as he tried to decipher the expression animating his features.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work”

“But you saw memories didn’t you?”

“Yes but you were not there,” he bit his cheek.

“So the potion worked. It just means somebody concealed them, edited them or even took
them from you. If they’re not in your head anymore then maybe we could find the person
who dealt with it and ask them to give them back,” he thought aloud.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But who could have?”

“Let me handle it. I’ll talk about it with Severus and then.. We’ll find out together. Until then,
I could share a few of my memories with you. What do you think?”

“Are you sure?”

“You have to trust me,” he stated firmly. “If you don’t, you’re going to put yourself in danger
and if I can show you who I am to you then maybe.. Maybe you’ll realise you can rely on me.
Besides, I must admit it’s also very selfish but I hate that you look at me like you don’t know
me”

“Alright,” he nodded. “But not now, I have somewhere to be”

“Meet me in the dungeons on Saturday night, around eight”

“I’ll be there,” he promised as he walked to the door.

“Oh and Draco?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“A Kappa scale? Really?” Regulus lips twitched knowingly and Draco had to bit down a
smile.

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

“Sure, you don’t,” he smirked.

After Draco left the dungeons, he walked immediately to the shrieking shack. It was easier
than Draco thought. Despite the rain and the slippery ground, Draco didn’t struggle all that
much to reach the tree and slid inside to collect Potter’s cloak. Except he didn't collect it.
Another idea crept into his head as he was overwhelmed with anxiety after spending the day
avoiding thinking about the task. Now he was in the shack, his mind reminded him how easy
it'd be to check on the vanishing cabinet. He tried to reason himself but anxiety won and in
the end he decided he still had enough time ahead of him to visit Knockturn Alley quickly
just to check the cabinet and try to decipher the mystery hidden within the wood. So he did
and to do so he decided to leave the cloak behind and to pick it up on his way back. When he
arrived at Borgin and Burkes, a migraine threatened to split his head in two as he focused on
the code the runes obviously were.

They still made absolutely no sense.

Draco realised he made a mistake while doing the translation of the ones he thought he
managed to translate and he had to start over. It was frustrating, it felt like he was on stand-
by, going nowhere near the end of the first step of his plan to complete the task. Besides,
despite the large amount of time he studied the folder Blaise managed to snatch from
Dumbledore’s office, he still had no idea where the missing cabinet had been moved. The
report Umbridge wrote made no more sense than the runes. It felt like reading a foreign
language. She’d been so vague in her explanations of what she’s done of the cabinet that he
didn’t even know whether it was still in the castle or not.

Some days, he felt like giving up because of how hard it was to fulfil this task. Some days, he
imagined himself looking at Voldemort and say “Fuck you, you and your stupid task. Do it
yourself you coward!” but then he remembered he would probably die and suffer if he did
that so he tried to find another way to achieve the mission he was given.

He didn’t know how to proceed and he was stuck with all those hints he couldn’t understand.
The solution was right in front of him but he couldn’t find a way to comprehend what it said.
He was going mad. Therefore whenever he had enough time to significantly work on the
vanishing cabinet located in Borgin and Burkes, Draco went there and tried to solve another
layer of mystery the cabinet offered.

After a hour of research, Draco headed back to the castle. Since it had been pretty easy to
sneak in from Knockturn Alley without being seen, Draco expected the walk back to school
to be as easy or at least not so different.

Yet it was.

At first, everything went alright. He shielded himself from the rain with the hood of his robes
and he ran across the land effortlessly. He didn’t meet anyone on his way – probably thanks
to the rain. Everything was alright. That was, of course, until he walked in front of Hagrid’s
hut. Draco saw him before he heard him.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

He could have escaped this awkward situation if only he had thought about using the cloak
but it was at this moment he remembered he forgot to take it with him when he left the shack.
Draco cursed under his breath. How dumb was that? And now it was too late to run away
because the white-haired Slytherin was already walking towards him. Draco wouldn't be able
to explain why he was running to the Whomping Willow. That would be suspicious and
Draco had decided León already knew too much. He didn't need to give him more reasons to
be wary of him.

“Draco?” León said startled when he finally spotted him. “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same,” he said as he walked up to him.

“I’m going to feed Salvador,” he grinned as he gestured to the bucket he was holding.

“Can’t he feed himself alone?”

“Of course he can,” León rolled his eyes. “But it’s nice to give him food” Draco eyed him
sceptically but didn’t had anything. “Wanna come with me?”

“Feeding the Giant Squid you decided to befriend? Sure, it sounds fun,” he replied
sarcastically.

“I knew you’d like it, come on then”

León began to walk again in direction of the lake and Draco huffed in disbelief. He obviously
didn’t mean it but it seemed León didn’t care much about it. Reluctantly, Draco followed him
and together they ran down the hill to reach the shore of the lake.

“Do you do that often?” Draco asked.

“What?”

“Feeding him?”

“As often as I please. It’s relaxing,” he shrugged as he dropped the bucket on the floor. Draco
picked up a few stones and skipped them around four times. He smirked smugly when he
noticed León looked impressed. “What is it, Delacour? Have you never done that before?” he
arched an eyebrow haughtily.

“You said my name properly,” he blurted out instead of answering.

“Sorry?”

“My name. You’re probably the only one who pronounces it properly since I arrived at
Hogwarts,” he explained. Draco looked at him blankly. Was that so impressive?

“It’s not so hard when you can speak a little bit of French,” he shrugged.

“You can speak French? You?” he eyed him sceptically.

“I’ll let you know I speak it very well,” he exaggerated, offended.

“As if,” he teased.

“I swear. French is crystal clear to me”

“Uh-uh,” he replied as though he didn’t believe him.

“It rolls on the tongue, really”

“Sure,” he smiled.

“Oh come on, I can speak French!” He insisted.

“I’m not saying you can’t”

“What are you saying then?”

“I’m saying you’re not proving it,” he shrugged casually and Draco’s ears turned pink. He
always loved a challenge.

“How am I supposed to prove it?” he asked.

“Say something”

“Connard,” he deadpanned.

“Wow, that was rich Malfoy. De la grande poésie.. I’m pretty sure Molière just turned in his
grave”

“Who’s that?”

“A cool dude,” he replied instantly and Draco frowned. If he was cool, he should know him
too.

“Is he Muggle?”

“Yes, he was”

“I don’t know any Muggles,” he shrugged.

“No but you know who Jack Frost is,” he teased.

“I don’t see how it is relevant,” he said confused.

“It’s Muggle culture”

“No it’s not!” he gasped.

“I promise it is. I checked!” he grinned.

“You must be wrong because my mother used to read me this story when I was a child and
I-” he stopped talking abruptly. Was it possible his mother read Muggle stories to him when
he was an infant? He learnt not so long ago that she was into Muggle literature but surely his
father wouldn’t have allowed it. Besides, it was a story Andromeda read for her at night and
Cygnus and Druella would have never agreed to let their daughters read anything non-wizard.
Obviously, he was wrong since León seemed so sure it was Muggle. “It’s not the point. You
deflected the question,” he tried to deflect, too.

“Which question?”

“Don’t you skip stones?”

“I don’t know how to,” he shrugged.

“It’s pretty easy”

“Can you show me?” he asked hesitantly.

“Didn’t you want to feed the Giant Squid?”

“Salvador,” he corrected. “But I’m sure he could wait a bit longer”

Draco’s lips twitched but he refused to smile genuinely so he repressed it and he picked up a
handful of stones before he gave one to León.

“Okay so first, you must hold it like this,” he showed him how to place the stone in the palm
of his hand and he helped him place it properly in his when León’s stone exited from his
palm when he closed his fist. “Yeah like this,” he said. “The thing is.. If you want to skip
stones properly you have to throw them flat but not too flat or else they’ll just drop into the
water. No, you have to give it a yank to propel the stone,” he finished his explanation by a
demonstration. When the stone rebounded on the water five times, Draco smiled again.
“Alright, your turn”

León tried and failed miserably. His first stone sank underwater as soon as it touched the
surface and the others did no better. Eventually, Draco took pity on him and placed himself
behind him to circle his waist and take his hand in his to show him how to do it properly.
After the third try, León succeeded and he grinned so brightly Draco had to look away. He
hadn’t noticed how close they were but now he was acutely aware of the scent filling his
nostrils and Merlin he smelled good. He let go of him instantly when their eyes met and
Draco noticed one of León’s eye changed colour, shining in a beautiful shade of purple.

“Okay Salvador waited long enough I believe, we should feed him,” Draco said awkwardly
as he looked at his feet, trying to look busy and unbothered. He was so flustered it was
ridiculous.

“Of course!” León grinned. “I took his favourite,” he gestured to the bucket.

“I still can’t believe you feed him regularly. Isn’t he too old for that?”

“Old?” he huffed. “That’s an understatement. He’s more than twenty years old from what
Hagrid told me. He’ll turn twenty one soon. He should’ve been dead a long time ago. Giant
Squids are supposed to live two years only. He had more time than we thought he’d have,” he
smiled.

“Right, it is not so.. bad. I mean, for a squid,” he replied awkwardly. “What’s in the bucket
exactly?”

“Fish, what else?” León took one out and Draco had to admit it wasn’t as disgusting as he
thought it would be.

“They almost look edible,” he commented. “Though I’m sure he’s going to eat them
regardless”

“Oi! He’s not a bin. He doesn’t eat things that aren’t comestible”

“You should tell him, he doesn’t seem aware,” he smirked.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said before he brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled to call
the Giant Squid. “Out of curiosity, what’s your Patronus?” he asked out of the blue. Draco
shot him a confused look.

“I- I don’t know? I never cast the spell. Why?”

“Nice! Now I hope your Patronus will be a Squid so you’ll regret making fun of him,” he
teased.

“Fuck off! If I ever cast the spell, my Patronus better be something cooler!”

“But they are cool! They’re really smart,” he retorted.

“Oh yeah? In what world?” he scoffed.

“You arrogant piece of shit,” he shoved him kindly and Draco shoved him back.

“What? Did I hit a soft spot? What is it Delacour? Is your Patronus a Squid? Is that why you
love them so much?” he teased.

“You couldn’t be further from the truth,” he laughed. “My Patronus is a chameleon,” he
replied with a proud smile.

“Kind of make sense,” he conceded.

“How so?” León asked as his eyebrows shot up.

“It’s because of your eyes. They do that thing all the time,” he said as he gestured to his face
as to prove his point.

“I prefer to think it’s because of my great adaptability skills,” he smirked and Draco rolled
his eyes. “Wait. What thing are you talking about?” he asked confused.

“Mmh?”
“My eyes. You said they did a thing”

“Oh, uh.. I don’t know, they just- One of them changes colour from time to time,” he
shrugged.

“Oh that thing! Yeah well, it’s a family trait,” he smiled. “I don’t know why, every men in my
family have an eye like that. Never the girls. The girls have some other stuff though such as a
hypnotising voice which is extremely dangerous when misused but bloody brilliant most of
the time,” he explained enthusiastically.

“Sounds…”

“Scary?”

“Crazy. But a good kind of crazy,” he smiled and this time he didn’t repress it.

He had to admit he was having a good time and León was nice when he wasn’t bloody scary.
But Draco had to keep in mind that they couldn’t be friends, no matter how friendly they
were to each others. As though León suddenly remembered why they were here, he whipped
his head to observe the horizon line, trying to catch a glimpse of a tentacle but the water was
calm. There was not a single wave despite the wind. Draco realised that it wasn’t raining
anymore either. He didn’t know when it stopped but it felt nicer this way. León frowned
before he brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled again. Then, he waited. His gaze
never left the lake.

“He should be there,” he mumbled.

“Maybe you should try to call him?” Draco suggested as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked, irritated.

Draco rolled his eyes as though he was dumb. “I mean use his name since you decided to
pick one for him. Thus far, it’s just ridiculous so maybe it could be useful too,” he
deadpanned.

“I don’t need to, he’ll come,” he said. “Sometimes he needs more time, is all”

Draco shrugged but before he could compose himself, the gigantic shadow of the Giant Squid
appeared under the surface like a massive dark ink stain. A few extra seconds was all he
needed before he emerged from the deep ends of the lake, splashing water onto them with his
enormous tentacles which beat the surface roughly before he dove underwater again. Draco
and León just had enough time to step back not to be completely drenched.

Draco’s mouth fell agape as he admired the aquatic show the Giant Squid gave them,
splaying his tentacles and swimming graciously under the surface. After all those years at
Hogwarts, he had never seen so many details of the Giant Squid until now. He suddenly
realised he missed a lot. The creature was sumptuous, gracious and beautiful although
admittedly a bit scary too. The deep crimson red of his skin shone like a thousand rubies
under the sun rays piercing through the clouds in the sky. The pearls dripping down his
tentacles created a optical illusion, showing his skin a purple shade depending on how the sun
kissed it.

When the Giant Squid finally let the top of his head out the water, León approached him
carefully, his feet at the limit of the lake. The creature raised one of his tentacles skyward
before he folded it in a ball and stretched it towards León. Draco and him exchanged a look,
slightly confused before León opened the palm of his hand and the creature dropped
something in it. León examined the object he was now possessing before he showed it to
Draco.

“Is that a…”

“A scale which once belonged to a merpeople? It definitely is,” he breathed in awe.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” he said as he reached out to take it too. He didn’t have time to
catch it before Salvador sprayed him with water generously enough to drench Draco
completely. His clothes stuck to his skin in the worst way. Draco hiccuped, startled, before
his eyes widened. Then, he looked incredulously at León.

“I believe it was a gift for me. He probably didn’t want you to touch it,” he winced
apologetically.

“No shit?!” he snapped.

“Oh relax it’s just a bit of water,” he rolled his eyes.

Draco glared at him before he mumbled something under his breath. He dropped his wand
carelessly on the grass near the bucket and a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips
just like every time he was being stupid. Draco undressed from his robes and the pullover he
was wearing above his shirt and he dropped his clothes near his wand. León was putting the
scale in the pocket of his robes which he’d dropped on the floor at some point when Draco
approached him slyly by behind.

Draco was seeking for revenge and he’d get it eventually. He grabbed León tightly and they
began to wrestle in a friendly way while León laughed loudly and cursed Draco who
reaffirmed his grip. They nudged each other – León hit his ribs and Draco his stomach –
before León tried to armlock Draco after he managed to free one of his arm. Alas, Draco was
fast and lithe therefore he had no difficulty to escape him. They spun on spot as they tried to
take advantage on the other but they were really close to the lake and León lost his balance.
Unsurprisingly, he fell in the water, dragging Draco along with him.

“Fuck I’m drenched now!” León groaned but he kept laughing as hard as earlier.

“Oh relax, it’s just a bit of water,” he teased before he splashed him in the face.

“Fuck off Malfoy!” he laughed. Then, he took a deep breath to fill his lungs with air and he
disappeared underwater. A few seconds later, Draco felt a hand around his ankle and he
squealed – he’d be ashamed of that later – before he disappeared under the surface as well.
 The friendly fight they began on the grass continued in the lake. None of them wanted to
admit defeat therefore it lasted longer than it should have. The water was really cold –
although not as cold as it could have been in October – but they didn’t seem to mind as their
laughter echoed in the quietness of the place. They didn’t resurfaced before a while. It had to
wait until the first glimmer of pink fractured the sky in four different shades before they
hopped themselves out of the lake to lay on the grass and admire the sunset.

Draco missed his class that afternoon, but he decided it was worth it. He had had so much fun
and he definitely needed that lately. They folded their legs and brought them to their chests as
they admired the vestiges of a not-so-bad day which carried the promise of a new friendship
– despite he wouldn’t admit it. Above their head was shining the first star before the sun even
disappeared behind the horizon line. It was so beautiful, so bright in comparison to the pink
powder spread in the sky, leaving behind the vapour trail of fewer clouds.

Draco spread his arms behind his back to lean onto them as he stretched his legs towards the
shore. His eyes were focused on the beauty of the world which perfumed the air with
something Draco hadn’t smelled in ages: hope and happiness. He hadn’t even notice he was
still smiling stupidly at the sun, his smile never faltering for a second. As he watched the sun
for the last time that day, Draco felt León’s fingers shyly brushing the tips of his. He bit his
lips imperceptibly as his heartbeat quickened but he didn’t pull away so León took the
initiative to lace two of their fingers together. Draco looked down at them and he felt
strangely happier. He released a shaky breath as he wrapped tentatively one of his knuckles
around León’s. When he looked up and their eyes met, they smiled softly at each other and
Draco realised he’d never wanted to freeze time so much before. He wanted to stay here, he
wanted to keep feeling this way, his heart so light and his mind floating six feet above the
stars because for once, he allowed himself to have this fragile little thing he mustered enough
courage to have.

A blossoming friendship.

Chapter End Notes

🇫🇷 Translations
"Connard" = "arsehole"

“De la grande poésie.." = "That's some great poetry"

Next chapter on Thursday!! Take care of yourself in meantime 🦋

 Banter on a Weird Day
Chapter Notes

TW Anxiety/panic attack
CW Vomiting
CW intrusive thoughts
Mention of suicide ideation
Mention of past underage drinking
Mention of needles (as a metaphor)

Friday 11th of October 1996.

Seven o’clock stars were shining bright above his head, enlightening the room of requirement
thanks to the fake sky he summoned but Draco didn’t pay them any attention anymore, too
focused on his task. His eyes locked on the parchment he was reading, rapidly moving from a
word to another, jumping lines and going back at the top of the paper to begin again, Draco
tried hard to find a hint as to where the vanishing cabinet could be. The folder Blaise
snatched for him was absolutely useless. Three hours had passed since the end of the classes
and since he locked himself in the room of requirement, analysing the folder over and over
again with no trace of the beginning of an answer.

“Think Draco! That ugly toad cannot be smart enough to fool you. The answer must be
somewhere!” he smacked his cheeks lightly to stay awake before he rubbed his face as he
released a groan, exhausted by the constant insomnia keeping him up at night. The bags
under his eyes darkened the past few days and the paleness of his skin grew alarmingly paler
after each day. He looked unhealthy, but he supposed it made sense considering the next full
moon would soon arrive. Working in those conditions was almost impossible. His stomach
chunked randomly and his mind kept travelling elsewhere. He was unable to stay focus. With
the full moon being barely two weeks away, Draco knew he had to expect it to worsen. He
muttered something under his breath as he flipped another page, corning the bottom as he
did.

As he was skimming through another page of the report Umbridge wrote, a multitude of
objects clattered nearby as they crashed on the floor, dragging his attention away from the
papers. He jumped on his feet, his wand dropped from his sleeve right in his left hand as he
narrowed his eyes to look whether or not someone was there.

“Hello? Anybody there?” he called but only the void answered him. He frowned before he
strutted his way towards the sound. A few papers from the report flew to the ground due to
the speed of his movement, his pace moving air too fast around him.
Whereas he was taking another step forward, his knuckles white around the wand and his
heartbeat quickening at an alarming pace while sweat gathered on his forehead, he heard
another sound echoeing in the silence. He froze. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry
and a drop rolled down his temple when he mustered the courage to turn the corner and see
what happened. Splayed on the floor in front of him was a pile of trophies people left there as
well as a little elf on his knees, polishing one of them. It didn’t take long before Draco
recognised him.

“Dobby?” he said, surprise dripping through his tone. Dobby jumped before he stood up and
swept off the dust from his clothes.

“Hello, Sir. What are you doing here?” he asked, cheerful as ever.

Draco wasn’t used to so much familiarity coming from the elf but he tried not to shudder as
he thought about it. It had been years since he last belonged to him and he tried to keep that
in mind. Still, it felt odd to find him there and not being able to give him any orders. He
refocused on the situation playing in front of him as though he was watching one of Blaise’s
bad movies. He cleared his throat and lowered his wand.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in return.

“Dobby wanted to drop a few things in the room but then Dobby saw that trophy with Harry
Potter’s name on it. Well, Dobby thought it belonged to Harry Potter but it doesn’t. It’s
Fleamont Potter’s, Harry’s grandfather,” he smiled as he shoved a trophy in front of Draco’s
face.

He looked at it up and down, unsure whether or not he should care. It was an award Fleamont
received for his potion skills. He decided he didn’t care in the end. Draco snorted haughtily
and crossed his arms on his chest. “Don’t you have something else to do?” he asked.

“As I mentioned, Dobby was just dropping a few things in the room”

“And did you?,” he rolled his eyes when he noticed the elf didn’t understand. “Did you drop
them?” he reworded. Dobby nodded excitedly.

“Oh yes, Sir! Dobby tidied the newspapers on the pile. Dobby thought a pile would be perfect
to keep everything clean but Straw thought it wouldn’t be looking clean enough but Dobby
did it anyway because Dobby doesn’t care about what Straw thinks,” he huffed.

“I see,” he drawled as he eyed him weirdly. Draco didn’t have time for this. “Well, since
you’re done here maybe you should go,” he said.

“Oh, did I disturb you, Sir?” Dobby asked.

“Yes,” he deadpanned. “I was busy doing my homework and now you interrupted me I’ll
have to start over,” he lied easily.

“Dobby apologises, Sir. Dobby didn’t mean to disturb you. I will go, now,” and just like that,
he snapped his fingers and disappeared in the air. Draco sighed. He didn’t think the house elf
would come over when he decided to hide here. Now he knew it was a possibility, he’d have
to be careful or find a way to get rid of him. Draco never had been mean to him therefore
Dobby had no reasons to be wary of his intentions. It shouldn’t be too hard to keep him at
distance from his activities but it was one more complication he hadn’t seen coming.

When Draco spun on his heels to go back to the desk where he was working, his eyes fell on
a white blanket coating the floor. He frowned as he followed it with his eyes until he found
the end of a furniture from which the blanket was still stitched to, stuck in the handle. Draco
let out a startled laugh, his eyes glistening with satisfaction and relief.

“Fuck!” he breathed as he approached the vanishing cabinet he’d been looking for the past
month. He couldn’t believe it had been right before his eyes the whole time. Dobby probably
knocked the blanket over when he dropped the newspapers on the pile because it was right
next to it and Draco was pretty sure he had never seen it here before. He was so exhausted
and sleep deprived that he launched himself at the furniture and hugged it tight, his eyes wet
with relief. That was one less problem to worry about.

He had finally found it.

When he pulled away from the vanishing cabinet, he skipped on spot like the four years-old
him would have in those conditions but then he took a step back and clasped his hands on his
mouth as realisation washed over him. A pitiful whine escaped him as a lump formed in his
throat. His emotions were conflicted.

On one hand, Draco had finally found it after all those months worrying about it. He was
finally being able to move on, reach the second step and proceed to the first experimentations
to see if it worked. The completion of the first step brought him such intense relief he almost
felt giddy. Maybe now he had both cabinets he wouldn’t have to worry about the runes
anymore. Maybe he’d even have result to share with Voldemort in December.

On the other hand, the relief he felt didn’t last long before guilt, fear, anxiety and self-
loathing took over the rest. He felt disgusted with himself for the way he reacted. Because,
for the exact same reasons it was a good news, finding the cabinet was also very bad ones.
Draco had no reasons not to work on it, he had no reasons to belate the task over and over
again. His guts twisted painfully as he spiralled. His thoughts were merciless, calling him a
traitor, a murderer and a coward. He hated himself for what he was about to do, the crimes he
was about to commit.

He squatted down and clasped his hands on his buzzing ears as he squeezed his eyes shut,
trying to shut his mind but nothing worked to keep the thoughts away. His breathing became
laborious and his chest heavy as the tears spilled from his eyes. “It’s not you, it’s just the
moon. Just the moon,” he chanted repeatedly, out of breath as he tried to convince himself.
Accusing the moon of making him feel this way was easier than admitting he was actually
feeling those awful things, thinking those dreadful thoughts about himself. He didn’t want to
acknowledge the situation and face the grief in his heart. He didn’t want to accept he couldn’t
even look at his reflection in the mirror anymore.

He was crying in earnest now, sobbing like a child as he clenched his shirt and untied his tie
before he discarded it somewhere in the room. He couldn’t breath. Every breath he took felt
like a burn to his lungs and eventually, his throat was so tight air couldn’t even pass it
anymore to fuel his lungs. His chest burnt and he drooled on his chin as he cried harder. He
was going to do this. He was going to be responsible for the death of many students –
because he knew for a fact Hogwarts would fight back – and he was going to be a murderer.
It didn’t matter whether it was his wand or not which cast the final blow, it would still be his
fault.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

Murderer, murderer, murderer.

The words spun in his head like a wheel. His throat felt like sliced in two with every swallow
or pierced by a thousands needles and he cried so hard he felt like throwing up. It made him
sick. The person he was becoming made him sick. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want
to be here, scheming against the school which sheltered him during the darkest storms his
family went through.

Please someone help me, please, I don’t want to do this, he thought.

No one came.

He was alone.

It wasn’t one of those days when Remus would pop out of nowhere like he did back at the
ministry to comfort him. Draco couldn’t rely on him to give him a hug whenever he felt like
shit. But this was much more than just feeling like shit. This was Draco having a mental
breakdown, a tough one, over the future he was sure he wouldn’t even see. A part of him
hoped he wouldn’t. The words echoed in the emptiness of his head until he finally managed
to shut his thoughts down. He choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again and he
coughed violently, his sobs never calming long enough to let him breath properly.

He was going to do this. It was really happening. He was really about to tarnish his own soul
just to survive through the war. But was it even worth it to survive if the cost was so high to
pay? Was a life half-lived worth the shot? Draco knew a part of him would die with the war
and he didn’t want to be left incomplete. He felt so broken already, the cracks in his soul
deepening days after days after days, digging the gap of his sanity which turned into a road
towards madness. It definitely wasn’t one he wanted to follow.

Draco often tried not to think about what would happen when the war would be over. It was
even easier these days since he was praying the world would swallow him during the battle in
June and maybe he’d release his last breath along with the other casualties he’d have caused.
He didn’t believe Potter could really defeat Voldemort.

He was just a teenager! Just as much as Draco was! They were just children caught up in a
storm none of them saw coming but which was brewing since the seventies. A storm no one
but Voldemort was responsible for. What kind of teenager wanted to see their life turned to
ashes for the greater good – or the greater evil, in his case. Draco didn’t want to live in a
world where he’d have caused so much pain and chaos it’d go beyond repair. When he began
to think this way, Draco’s thoughts often led him back to his mother who was also the reason
why he was doing all of this. He couldn’t abandon her as well. He’d seen what Voldemort
was capable of, he didn’t want to be responsible for another tragedy.

That would be insane to believe in him, to rely on him to save them all and yet, a small part
of him must have been already corrupted because somewhere in the chaos caused by the
rollercoaster of his emotions, something Draco didn’t manage to understand tugged behind
his navel every time he thought about throwing himself from the top of the Astronomy tower.
Something kept him from doing it.

But Draco must have been a little insane because he wanted to believe Potter could save them
all. Save him, too.

He hated his guts but Draco needed to believe that Potter would be there to save the day just
like he had always been the past few years. If he failed then.. Draco gagged before he could
even finish to form the thought. His heart was in his mouth and he snatched a bag tossed
aside before he threw up in it. After he cast a quick scourgify and cleaned his mouth with his
sleeve, he shoved his hand in his pocket and he fumbled a bit, his fingers too shaky to take a
hold of anything properly. Eventually, he managed to take a chocolate out and he ate it
carefully not to choke on it as he was still sobbing, waiting expectantly to feel calmness
overflowing inside again. He needed to calm down.

He sat down and rested his back against the wall as looked up to the ceiling and he stretched
his legs in front of him. The stars were beautiful. Unconsciously, Draco was inspired by the
sky he admired with Sirius while smoking back at the shack. He craved a cigarette
desperately. He wanted to watch the smoke building a bridge between him and the stars so he
could go and live among them, where he’d be safe and sound.

He was emotionally and physically drained. His eyes were heavy and after a few minutes he
didn’t succeed to keep them open. He didn’t fight it. By the time his eyes shut, he could
breathe again and his whole body relaxed, causing him to yawn sleepily. His head rolled on
the side, resting against his right shoulder as he finally fell asleep after three long days of
being awake. Quiet snores filled the room and he didn’t awake before quite some time after
that.

Two hours later, when he finally opened his eyes, his head throbbed violently and his heart
pounded with the residue of the nightmare he still had stuck behind his lids. It wasn’t so
horrible or scary in the proper sense of the term but it was definitely scary enough to worry
him. Surprisingly, he didn’t dream about the war coming nor the task. No. He dreamt about
Sirius. The thing Potter told him played over and over again in his head, worrying him to
death. He didn’t know such thing as werewolves inspections existed but he hadn’t had the
time to send a letter to Remus that week to check on him. He decided now he had found the
cabinet, he could take a minute to write a letter.

He pushed on his legs and used his hand to stand up, pressing against the wall to keep his
balance as his lids still felt heavy. Reluctantly, he walked to the desk where he’d been
working the past hours and he took a blank parchment and a quill. He fixed his hair as he
thought about what he would write. He took the quill in his hand and looked at the paper
blankly. They never really spoke about personal things before, their letters were always
discussing the full moons and werewolves. Draco reminded himself that is was technically
the case, this time again, although it felt different. It all felt a bit alien to be there, gathering
his thoughts and checking on them to find the best way to spell them out on the paper. He
exhaled slowly and put his hand in motion before he could change his mind. He didn’t want
his pride to be an obstacle, not again.

“Dear Remus,

I hope you’re doing alright and that you’re not too exhausted by the next full moon. It is
coming very soon and I already feel the effects dragging me down every single minute of my
day so I know you do too.

There was something I wanted to ask you. I heard from Potter rumours about the ministry
coming to your house for an inspection or something. I am not sure, I didn’t really
understand. Anyway, I must admit I was quite surprise to find out you were registered as a
werewolf. I always thought you were not, I guess I must have been wrong. I just wanted to
ask.. Will Sirius Padfoot be aright? Does he know where to hide?

Please owl me soon, I’m worried.

Draco Malfoy”

Draco read the letter again and his nose wrinkled. “Pathetic,” he muttered under his breath
before he rolled it in a ball and threw it against the wall. He took another parchment and
unrolled it before he dipped his quill in the bottle of ink placed on the desk and rested his left
arm on the paper, the tip of the quill a few centimetres above the paper. His eyes darted
aimlessly as he tried to think about how he could write his thoughts. He couldn’t be too
friendly but he couldn’t sound too cold neither. They were well past this kind of behaviour
now.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The ink gathered on the tip of his quill fell on the
parchment, leaving a circle of dark ink that the paper absorbed quickly and Draco groaned,
frustrated. He rolled the stained paper in a ball and threw it against the wall, once again. He
took another paper and put the quill on the table until he knew how to formulate his thoughts.
He leaned on his elbows as he pressed his laced fingers under his chin and he began to think
hard. He pinched the bridge of his nose after a while and he sighed.

“Okay, maybe this will do,” he said as he dipped the quill in the ink once again and began to
write.

“Remus,

I thought I’d check on you since it’s been a while. How is it going at the shack? Or wherever
it is you live, for the matter. The full moon is coming soon and I know how exhausting it can
be for you. It is for all of us. There are some rumours whispered within the walls here.
Whoever said the walls have ears couldn’t have said any truer words if they tried. People say
the ministry is going to send Aurors for an inspection as to check on the werewolves who
signed the register. I don’t know if you’re among them but if you are.. I have to ask. Is
Padfoot going to be alright? I mean we wouldn’t want him to get captured, right? I must
admit the situation is concerning. Is the ministry even allowed to do that? I don’t see what
they want to inspect, exactly. It sounds like another ruse to intrude people’s intimacy, if you
ask me.

PS: I’m sure you’ll be glad to know I haven’t eaten all the chocolates yet. I believe I made
some progress when it comes to deal with my emotions, don’t you? I should be good until the
next full moon but if you want to send me more, feel free to do it. I never say no to more
chocolates. Did they have to make them so delicious?

PS.2: Did you tell Dumbledore about me already? I still haven’t heard anything from him,
isn’t that strange?

Please owl me soon,

DLM”

As his eyes skimmed through the letter, Draco frowned slightly. He wasn’t entirely satisfied.
It felt both too impersonal and too personal at the same time and he didn’t like that. He was
about to rewrite it again when he realised it was already nine o’clock and he had somewhere
to be. Moaning Myrtle was waiting for him, probably. He’d hex Blaise next time he’d see
him for that.

He stood up and grabbed the letter between his fingers before he folded it neatly and shoved
it in an envelop. He wrote Remus’ name on it and he put it in the pocket of his robes as he
exited the room after he made sure to hide the research he was doing in a box he kept hidden
under one of the piles and he covered the vanishing cabinet with the blanket. Before he left
for the night, he grabbed his tie he discarded earlier and tied it neatly around his neck.

As he meandered in the corridors, lost in his head, he suddenly realised he hadn’t eaten all
day. He sighed but kept walking. It’d have to wait later. He was already late. He slid against
the handrails of the stairs to go down faster. He really wanted to send his letter before
tomorrow. The trip to the owlery felt like it took forever but he was so glad when he finally
reached the top of the building and was greeted by the song of the thousands owls who were
animatedly singing to each others, more awake than ever as the night had fallen.

“Atlantis?” he called, looking around to find his owl in the middle of the brouhaha. “Atlantis,
come here buddy!” he tried again, his arm extended to let him settle on it if he ever showed
up. Draco heard the sound of his wings flapping the air and he looked up just in time to see
Atlantis flying in circle above his head, descending slowly towards him. He looked
absolutely majestic, his salt-and-pepper feathers were shining under the moonlight piercing
through the clouds and falling into the pit of light offered by the roofless building. His dark
dots were almost missable but Draco knew they were there and he smiled softly.

“Hey buddy,” he whispered as he patted his head fondly. “I need you to get this to Remus,
can you do that for me?” he cooed softly as the owl leaned into the caress. Atlantis clattered
his beak happily and Draco chuckled as he brought the letter to his beak to let him take it.
The letter barely was taken from his hand that Atlantis flew away without another word like
the dutiful owl he was. Draco admired it disappearing in the night.
After he left the owlery, Draco walked downstairs and then upstairs to reach the second floor
where Moaning Myrtle was waiting for him. When pushed the bathroom door silently, he
heard muffled cries coming from behind one of the closed doors of the toilets. Draco frowned
as he closed the door carefully. Who would be stupid enough to come here when there were
toilets elsewhere? A place where they wouldn’t have to deal with the stupid ghost he was
forced to deal with tonight. He took a step forward and the sound of his shoe echoed in the
room. Water. Water everywhere, spilled all over the floor. Draco sighed. Of course no one
would come here willingly, the cries probably were Myrtle’s.

“Hello,” he said tentatively. “I’m here, come out!”

Draco took another step forward before the ghost erupted from one of the toilet, causing a
loud splash as she did. She hovered over his head, her eyes stormy and her features distorted
with anger. Great, she was upset.

“Have you seen how late it is or are you too proud to read the time yourself and that’s why
you missed our meeting?!” she shouted.

“I don’t think we decided on a hour,” he replied calmly. She gave him a glare and Draco
sighed. “Look, my day sucks enough as it is. Can you stop sulking for a minute?” She
gasped, offended before she drew a circle above his head and flew right through him. Draco
shuddered at the feeling. It was so cold. “That’s exactly what I mean,” he mumbled.

“You, Draco Malfoy, are an arrogant selfish man!” she shrieked from somewhere behind him.
Draco spun on his heels quickly but he barely had the time to see her flying to another corner
of the room.

“Can you stop flying for a minute so we can have a proper talk? I came, didn’t I? Isn’t it
enough?”

“Enough, enough, enough! It’s all people like you ever say! C’mon Myrtle, don’t cry, you
should be happy he answered you, that should be enough,” she mimicked someone Draco
didn’t know as she flew to the left. Draco’s eyes followed her. “You shouldn’t complain,
Exceeds Expectations is better than Troll! That should be enough for you!” she mimicked
again as she flew to the right. “Why should I ever be content with the bare minimum when I
know I deserve more?! I do deserve more!” she shrieked again as she dove head-first into the
toilet. Draco ran after her as he pushed the door open quickly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Come out of the toilet, please,” he said. He cringed at
the way he almost whined. He really didn’t want to upset her, his day was hard enough as it
was. He promised he’d be there tonight and even though he didn’t want to be here, even
though he’d rather be anywhere – well maybe not anywhere but almost – than here, Draco
wanted to make the most of it because he gave his word and his mother raised him better than
that. He wouldn’t be satisfied with himself if he failed that too.

“Why would I?” she moaned, her mouth and nose underwater while her eyes were above the
surface. Draco almost laughed.
“Because I promised I’d spend the night here, with you, and I don’t want to break that
promise. Besides, you help me even though I hate saying that therefore I owe you and if
that’s what you want then.. That’s the least I can do,” he explained without moving from the
door.

She hummed as she thought about it before she nodded and levitated out of the toilet slowly
before she flew past Draco and came back to sit on the corbel of the wall. Draco sighed,
already done with the whole ordeal and the evening as well – thinking about his meeting with
Potter made him feel the urge to dive in the toilets as well – before he walked out the toilet
and sat on the floor after he vanished the water. He looked at her expectantly.

“So?”

“Mmh?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said with her honeyed-voice. Draco shuddered at the sound. “What do
you do on your birthday?”

Oh, so she wanted to talk? Draco could do that. “I spend my birthday at Hogwarts so it’s
different every year. Sometimes Blaise and Pansy throw a party for me, sometimes it’s
quieter and Nott, Blaise, Pansy and I go the Clock Tower and we drink Tequila until one of us
fall asleep,” he hummed. This year, Draco refused to celebrate. He felt too morose for that,
besides he was really busy with the Inquisitorial Squad. They just called it a day and moved
on. It wasn’t that important anyway.

“We can’t throw a party,” she said. “I have no friends. I never had any! No one would come,”
she whined. “Also, I am one hundred percent sure I can’t drink alcohol anymore.”

Draco pitied her a bit before his eyes grew size. “Wait, is it your birthday?”

She nodded sheepishly. “And you were late,” she glared at him. “See? No one would come!”
she moaned before she began to cry again.

“Wait no! Stop crying. Don’t cry,” he said frantically as he stood up. He had no idea how to
comfort his friends so a ghost he barely knew and died way before he was even born? That
was out of his league. “I came, didn’t I? I’m here, with you”

“But your friend didn’t even come!” she retorted.

“Well yes but that’s because he didn’t know it was your birthday,” he tried.

“You think he would’ve come otherwise?” she asked, her eyes glistened with hope. Draco
thought it was weird.

“I’m sure he would have,” he nodded.

“Mmh,” she said as she fixed her glasses on her nose. “Maybe next year, then,” she said as
she flipped in the air excitedly. “He was so pretty!” she shrieked.
“Sure,” he pulled a face. ‘Pretty’ wasn’t a word he’d use to describe Blaise. He never looked
at him like that, actually. “So, what do you want to do?”

“I didn’t want to spend my birthday alone,” she confessed. “That’s why I asked you to come.
So maybe we could talk? Is that what friends do?” she asked.

Draco wanted to tell her they were not friends but he didn’t have the energy to deal with
another crying fit. Instead, he just rolled his eyes – because he really couldn’t help but think it
was ridiculous to be friend with a ghost. “Oh uh, yeah. I suppose,” he shrugged.

“Okay then, talk!” she said as she looked at him pointedly. Draco narrowed his eyes as he
gave her a funny look.

“That’s not how it works,” he said.

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” he replied flatly. “It must be natural, I just can’t ramble pointlessly,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Why not?” he huffed in disbelief. “Because that’d be ridiculous!” he snapped. He kept the
insult to himself so he wouldn’t upset her again but it was really tempting to call her stupid.

“But I want you to talk!” she objected. “I have been talking a lot since you arrived and you
didn’t say much,” she chastised.

“If only you could shut up,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“Oh nothing just.. Well.. What do you want to know?”

“Anything! Everything!” she replied excitedly.

“I can’t tell you everything. It’d take too long”

“Oh, but won’t you stay the night?”

“No. I said I’d come, I didn’t say how long I’d stay. I have somewhere else to be at
midnight,” he said.

She pressed her hands against her cheeks as she gave him a dreamy look. “Is that a lover
you’re going to meet with?”

“A love-” he choked on his spit, his cheeks red as he shook the mental image he had of him
and Potter making out in the astronomy tower. “Definitely not a lover!” he said as his nose
wrinkled in disgust though his stomach did that annoying flip he hated. He felt sick.
“Oh don’t be ashamed, students already met at midnight to kiss when I was still a student,”
she said. “Oh, how I wished Robert Finley would have kissed me,” she said. Draco’s disgust
only worsened.

“Can you please stop talking about kissing? This is gross,” he said.

“How so?” she frowned.

“You’re like fifty,” he deadpanned.

“I was not even legal when I died,” she huffed.

“And that was forty years ago,” he replied flatly without missing a beat.

“Alright, I won’t tell you about my school crush anymore but.. Tell me about yours!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.

“Oh come on! Tell me who it is! Who’s that girl who makes your heart beats faster! There
must be one!” she insisted as she left the corbel she was sitting on to join him on the floor.

“There’s no one, really”

“I don’t believe you. You’re a beautiful boy. Surely you must have someone in your life,” she
said.

“I threw up in a bag right before coming here. Who do you think wants to kiss those lips?” he
said as he tried to disgust her in return so she would leave it. It didn’t work.

“Who doesn’t get sick from time to time? At least you never threw up worms,” she said.

“Worms?” he almost gagged at the thought. “You’re bloody gross!”

“Oi! I didn’t know there were worms in that sandwich!” she said as she shot him another
glare. Draco almost rolled his eyes but she was too close not to see it now.

“You overshare quite a lot, you know. You don’t have to tell me that kind of thing,” he said.

“And I haven’t even shared the best yet,” she winked. Draco wrinkled his nose again. He was
regretting a lot his decision of coming here tonight and every others he made in his life which
led him to this.

“I’m sure I don’t want to know,” he said.

“No one ever wants to!” she moaned again before she began to sob, no tears on her cheeks.
Draco rolled his eyes in earnest.

“I wonder why”

Her sobs stopped instantly. “You’re mean! Why are you always so mean?!”
“I’m not mean,” he denied.

“Yes you are. You’re a very mean person, Draco Malfoy”

“Can you stop saying my name as though it was an insult? I’d really appreciate it, Moaning.
Myrtle,” he detached her nickname exaggeratedly as he shot her a glare of his own.

“See! That’s what mean people do! They bully other students!” she said. “You’re no better
than the people you hate!”

Draco groaned. He was running out of patience and he really didn’t like being insulted while
trying to fulfil a stupid promise he made. Something snapped as he got angry. “Oh for fuck’s
sake! I don’t even know why I came here and waste my time. You’re obviously not worth it.
All you ever do is whinging and crying and shouting when you’re not literally insulting me!
In case you didn’t notice, I’m the only one who came tonight and it was not even willingly so
maybe you should look at yourself in a mirror every once in a while instead of judging me
because unlike you I do have friends and I didn’t have to trick them for that to happen! Of
course people don’t want to be around you! You’re fucking mad and you’re insufferable! Oh!
And, for the record, you’re fucking creepy as well! Happy fucking birthday!” he spat as he
stormed out of the room before he collided into Willow.

“Wow, easy boy! What are you doing here?” she chuckled.

“Walking as far as possible from this living-hell,” he mumbled before he walked past her in
direction of the Astronomy Tower without returning the question. Her eyes followed him
with concern but Draco didn’t slow down. If anything he sped up. His footsteps echoeing in
the castle were the only sound hearable in the night but they quickly were accompanied by
Myrtle’s exaggerating cries before she dove head-first in the toilet and hid there. Good
riddance, he though bitterly.

When he finally reached the tower, Potter was already there, admiring the sky. The sight
made him feel both annoyed and somehow relaxed for some reasons. Potter looked peaceful
and Draco liked the stars. His vibes rubbed off on him as he walked closer.

“You’re already there?” Potter startled as he turned around to see him coming.

“What is it with people commenting on me being late or early tonight?” he mumbled, his bad
mood coming back full force. Of course he wouldn’t remain relaxed long if Potter opened his
bloody mouth. A word from the Gryffindor was all it took to ruin the day most of the time.
He never knew when to shut up. Had Draco cared a bit more, he would have noticed Potter’s
crestfallen face. But he didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as he leaned against the
edge to admire the stars.

“Oh, you were with someone before coming here?” he asked, his tone weirdly even for
someone like Potter.

“Why do you care?” he shot back without looking at him.

“I don’t. It’s just we could have done that another day if it was better for you”
“Your father comes tomorrow. There is no other day”

“Oh yeah.. Right”

A pause. “Sometimes, it feels like it’s really hard to be you”

“Why?” he asked, startled.

“You’re daft as your feet,” he replied flatly. “So? Are you going to take your cloak or are we
going to spend the night here? I’m not going to fetch it for you,” Draco rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me where it was,” he replied hastily.

“And they say a mother would recognise her child anywhere,” he scoffed with another eye-
roll. “Look under the Quadrant,” he said as he gestured vaguely to somewhere behind him
without ever tearing his gaze away from the sky.

“Which one? There are four of them!” But Draco didn’t reply so Potter just begin to watch
under the first one, then the second one. “Malfoy, which one is it? I’m not going to spend the
night looking for it,” he sighed.

Draco sneered as his gaze remained locked on the horizon. He didn’t answer. He wanted to
set him off a bit because Potter’s attitude felt oddly friendly tonight and he didn’t like that.
Maybe Draco caught him on a good day. But Draco wasn’t having a good day and he didn’t
want to be nice to him. He didn’t want him to think they were friends now just because they
shared their affection with two people they both knew.

They were not friends. And Draco needed the familiarity of their never-ending banter to feel
better tonight, after this very weird day he just had.

A few minutes and a lot of fumbling later, Potter resurfaced and joined him. Half-wrapped
around the cloak which Draco had fetched in the afternoon, right before going to the room of
requirement so he wouldn’t have to fight with him and fetch it after midnight, Potter’s head
popped out of the fabric, floating alone in the darkness like the moon was hanging in the sky.

It was creepy but definitely not as much as Moaning Myrtle. It’d take a floating head over her
any day.

Another shiver ran down Draco’s spine at the thought of the weird encounter they just had.
He never wanted to see her again and fortunately he wouldn’t have to, now he kept his word.
He didn’t owe her anymore.

“So, uh.. Thanks for nothing, I suppose,” Potter said eventually, dragging Draco out of his
head, “But thanks anyway for handing it back,” he said as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Draco hummed but didn’t look at him, his eyes now back on the school land spreading like it
knew no limits. The land was immense, really. It was also very beautiful, from where he was.
He could see the trees from the forbidden forest as well as the Black Lake reflecting the
moonbeams onto the surface of the water and the night was melodiously accompanied by the
song of the owls living in the trees. It was really peaceful.
“I didn’t do it for you,” he said. “I did it for Sirius”

“I know but still.. Since when are you two close?” he asked.

“Goodbye, Potter,” he replied annoyed.

“No but really! I didn’t know Sirius, Remus and you were close”

“You don’t know half of the things you think you do,” he said as he finally glanced at him
quickly for the first time.

“It seems you’re right,” he nodded. “Are you close to my father as well?”

“Potter!” he said, a warning in the voice.

“I’m just asking, is all”

“You’re not ‘just asking’, you’re being nosy,” he deadpanned.

“Call it as you please,” he shrugged.

The silence between them stretched after that but Potter didn’t move, he stayed right next to
him to look at the stars too. Draco waited patiently a few minutes but eventually he got
annoyed again and he glanced at him once more.

“Do you need anything else, Potter?”

“No, not at all. I’m just stargazing”

“Can’t you stargaze somewhere else?” he deadpanned coolly.

“I could but I was there first”

“I don’t care, move!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Potter shook his head. Draco eyed him with narrowed eyes.

“Do you secretly enjoy pissing me off or something?”

“Actually I thought that was your thing, not mine,” he commented.

“Move Potter!” he groaned.

“Nope,” he let the ‘p’ popping at the end of the word.

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed.

“Says who?”

“Me, obviously!”
“Right, who else,” he snorted.

“Is it a strategy to find out what I’m up to or are you just being a fucking lunatic?” he asked
dryly.

“Takes one to know one,” he smiled cheekily.

“That’s not an answer”

“That’s all you’ll get”

“What you do get is on my nerves,” he shot back.

“Do I? I didn’t mean to but it’s pleasant to know I can set you off as much as you do,” he
smiled.

“Have you always been this childish before?” Draco asked as he began to feel worked up.

“Depends on who you’re asking to,” he shrugged.

“Get out of here! Find your own spot to stargaze if you care about the stars so much and
leave me alone!” Draco said with more input to his words.

“Oh? About that! I don’t think I will,” he gave him a lopsided smile.

“You’re insufferable!”

“You’re the one throwing a fit because I beat you and arrived here first,” he scoffed.

“Oh so stargazing also is a competition now?” he arched an eyebrow.

“It’s not”

“Right. Because if it were I would have win,” he said haughtily.

“Yeah but you wouldn’t have win the race to come here, that’s for sure”

“No but I can name more constellations than you do, hence why this spot should be mine and
not yours! Get out of here”

“Would you look at that! Draco Malfoy thinks he finally beats me at something,” he teased.
Draco glared at him.

“Don’t think so high of yourself, Potter. I really don’t feel any pride about that. You can’t
name half of the constellations you’re watching. An uneducated house elf would be a greater
opponent than you are”

“I bet I could name at least five constellations!”

“I don’t care”
“Sounds like you do”

“I don’t”

“Alright then, I have a suggestion,” Potter smiled.

“I can’t wait to hear it out,” he replied sarcastically.

“I knew you’d be fond of the idea even before I spoke,” he said. Draco felt the urge to shove
him from the top of the tower so he shoved his hands in his pockets instead.

“Spit it out already,” he rolled his eyes.

“I love your enthusiasm,” he teased. If a glare could kill, Potter would be dead. “If I manage
to name five constellations, I stay here. If I don’t.. You keep the spot and I’ll leave you
alone,” he suggested.

“Counteroffer. I stay here and enjoy the few hours I have left of peace whilst you leave right
now!”

“I don’t think I will. The view is beautiful from here,” Potter grinned.

“This is stupid, I’m not going to agree to something stupid,” he mumbled.

“Sounds to me like you know you’re going to lose again, Malfoy,” Potter singsonged as he
gave him a cheeky smile and Draco felt the urge to punch him. Instead, he inhaled deeply
before he smirked.

“Oh is that a challenge?” Potter nodded. “Fine but then I say you name at least ten! Five
seems too easy,” he sneered. Potter grinned, his face confident and proud.

“As you please! You’re going to regret underestimating me,” he shot him another toothy
smile.

“Please, impress me,” he said unconvinced. Although, he never managed to resist a challenge
for so long.

And so Potter did. He named ten constellations and even showed them to Draco as he did,
placing the telescope in the right angle to show him. Draco’s mouth hung open. He couldn’t
believe it.

“But you fucking suck at Astronomy!” he said in disbelief.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled. “It’s just that I hate maps and the course is
ninety percent of maps and ten percent of observation. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t struggle
with maps in general, just sky maps are awfully hard to understand”

“You’re a cheater,” he glared at him.

“You’re the one who thought so low of me. But you surely are a poor loser,” he grinned.
Draco looked at him sternly.

“I hate you so much Potter,” he spat.

“I know. I hate you too. So, can I stay here now I proved I knew what I was watching or..?”

“Fine, you can stay. But you stay here and I go there!” he said as he pointed the other side of
the platform.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the view is so much prettier from here,” he said.

“No need to brag about it,” he mumbled.

“I wasn’t,” he cocked his head and gave him another smile. Draco had never seen him
smiling so earnestly before and he began to wonder if he wasn’t dreaming, still locked inside
the room of requirement after his latest mental breakdown.

“Alright then you go there and I stay here-”

“Or we could both stay here,” he interjected as he looked at Draco as though he was dumb.
Draco pursed his lips together and gave him a curt nod.

“Fine. But tomorrow, when we’ll go back to our life, I’ll pretend like this never happened.
We’re not friends,” he stated firmly.

“It’s fine by me,” he smiled.

“Oh and you keep your mouth shut. I swear I’ll hex you into oblivion if you open it just once
Potter”

Potter rolled his eyes but his smile only grew wider. “I’m sure I’ll manage”

Draco gave him an odd look before he nodded slowly again. After a few seconds, he realised
he was staring at his smile. He thought it looked stupid and so he looked away. He was
obviously lacking of objectivity on that one because Potter had James’ smile, the very same
one he thought radiated as much warmth as the Sun, but you’d catch him dead before he’d
admit it aloud. His eyes darted to the moon instead, too eager to find another target to settle
his eyes on. The cracks at the surface of the moon reminded him of Potter’s dimples and he
frowned, upset by his own train of thinking.

He refocused on the moon instead, too eager to think about anything but the bloody
Gryffindor occupying the space by his side. The moon wasn’t full yet but he knew it would
be really soon and his stomach twisted painfully as he thought about it. It had been four
months and it still was hard to accept he had to go through it, though he wouldn’t be alone
with Remus and Sirius by his side. The thought was comforting somehow.

He swallowed silently as he unfocused his gaze from the moon and he locked it on the stars
with more intention than earlier, determined not to think about the full moon or anything
painful. He felt Potter moving next to him as he changed his position to settle comfortably
but he refused to look, definitely too stubborn to even glance at him again. As he was
stargazing, he realised he really wanted a cigarette. Today was too stressful not to crave for
one.

He could have one later. Sharing them with Sirius and Remus felt better than alone, anyway.

For now, he let himself enjoying the quietness of the night with Potter by his side as they
concluded a truce for a night to admire the same sky and breathe the same air without trying
to get at each other’s the throat.

“Close your mouth,” Draco mumbled eventually.

“Mmh?”

“Stop smiling, you look stupid. Why is your face looking like that anyway?” his nose
wrinkled in disgust.

“Why do you think? That’s what people do when they’re happy, Malfoy,” he rolled his eyes
but his smile remained.

“If you’re going to smile like that, at least cover yourself entirely under the cloak,” he said.
“You disturb me I can’t look at the stars properly”

“Why, Malfoy! I didn’t know I could affect you so much,” he teased.

“You don’t. I’m just highly considering throwing yourself from the tower right now,” he
deadpanned. Potter chuckled softly.

“I would love to see that. You, Draco Malfoy, succeeding where Voldemort failed all those
years?”

“Don’t say his name!”

But the Gryffindor didn't apologise like Draco expected him to. Instead, he only shrugged.
Draco glanced at him one more time before he lost patience and covered Potter’s head with
the cloak himself since he wasn’t going to do it. Then he repositioned himself and admired
the stars again. Potter was still here but at least it felt like he wasn’t and that was much more
comfortable.

He couldn’t believe he was stargazing with Harry sodding Potter of all people.
 Corruption

Monday 14th of October 1996.

Caring was a strange habit of human beings. Draco didn’t understand it for a long time. It felt
like a foreign concept to care about another human being as though it was a duty or
something sacred. He didn’t understand that part of humanity. Truth be told, if not for Blaise,
he would still be as confused as before.

He knew that caring for his family was normal and even encouraged but caring for other
people was not. It was definitely not part of the Malfoy-ish education he followed thoroughly
during his childhood. Just like he was taught Latin, Ancient Runes and Potions at a young
age, playing the cello when he was around eight or bowing in front of the most powerful
person of the community to manipulate them better later, being selfish was engrained in his
brain, taking roots deeper than any memories he could have from that period. It became as
easy as breathing and lying.

His father ensured to cultivate the selfish side of his personality as much as possible as to
make him his only priority, always. It was a lesson he cherished heart and soul for a very long
time. So Draco did that for years. He was selfish and he obtained a strong sense of pride
whenever someone called him selfish because he thought it was something he shouldn’t be
ashamed of. Putting oneself first should never be shamed. To this day, he still thought deep
inside that it was true to some extend.

In the continuity of those life lessons, his father taught him the difference between putting
himself first and being a coward – he felt forced to after Draco demonstrated through a
concise example that it could be associated with cowardice. However, as time went by, Draco
realised there was no difference to find between those two because they were unrelated at all.
One could be selfish without being a coward. He only had to know when he should put
himself first and when not to. He learned that later on.

The situation he was literally stuck in lately was a perfect demonstration of that. Draco was
being both selfish and a coward. He tried hard to repress those self-deprecating thoughts but
you could only hide so long from the truth before it exploded to your face, right? And it did.
The first time he realised that was when he let Blaise take the blame for his mistake as not to
get discovered as a potential enemy of the school and the whole community. The second time
was a few days ago, when he found the vanishing cabinet.

Draco was utterly disgusted with himself. He had felt relieved to find that stupid cabinet just
because he knew it’d mean he would be alive after Christmas, not caring much at the moment
how many of his fellow students would pass away in the attack.

A selfish thought which bloomed in the mind of a selfish person, a monster. A thought
identical to those he was taught to have and feed when he was younger. A simple reflex and
mental gymnastics were all it took to go right back to that old habit he struggled to quit. His
rebellion against his father was supposed to wash his father’s sins anchored in his cells and
make him a whole new person. He was on the right path to achieve that. He didn’t use
offensive slurs against half-bloods and muggleborns in weeks and he even befriended a gay
werewolf and a gay disowned wizard. That was supposed to show how much he progressed.
And yet.. At the worst moment, his old habit bit his arse and twisted his guts as the thought
settled.

I’m gonna live. I’m going to survive this!

Not once when he first discovered the cabinet his thoughts went to all the casualties resulting
from his task. Not once. What a shame. All his efforts went down the sink as well as his
hopes to become someone good.

Too many hours spent awake pushed the thoughts in his head and he couldn’t get rid of them
by simply shaking them off. Not when those thoughts were literally his conscious talking to
him. Draco tried to reason with himself but eventually he concluded that it was nothing but a
bunch of excuses he served himself to appease his guilt because no matter what, he had
become everything he dreaded to be.

Well, not everything. Not yet. But if he kept following that road, that very slippery path he
was shoved onto before he even knew he was following it, he would slide right into the
tangled web of his inner monster with no way out, like a fly trapped in a spider web. When
he reached that conclusion, his heart was beating so fast he thought he would pass out. He
kicked the sheets at the end of the bed and he stood up. Sweat dripping down his temples
though his body was deadly cold. His skin kept its actual heat – that is to say way too hot on
the outside – but his insides felt colder than the blizzard.

His breathing was heavy in the silence of the room but he didn’t mind. His roommates were
sleeping soundly and he wanted to escape the dorm. It was at a moment like this one he
regretted his dorm being shared with other people. He missed his individual bedroom.
Walking on his tiptoes, Draco opened the door of the dorm and he closed it silently behind
him after he shoved his wand up his sleeve. He cast a disillusionment charm over himself as
not to get caught by Filch during one of his nocturnal and forbidden trip or any Aurors
roaming around the corridors.

Before he even knew what he was doing, his feet led him to the Potions classroom before his
mind reminded him helpfully that it was the middle of the night and that Regulus was
probably not in his classroom waiting for a visitor. He didn’t even know why he came to
Regulus, really. After their meeting on Saturday, it was easier to trust him and something
tugged inside – his instincts probably since that little shit kept upgrading days after days –
and he knew he could trust him.

The memories he saw in the Pensieve kept in Regulus’ office revealed the most genuine,
wholesome memories of his childhood. He saw himself flying on a broom with Regulus
while they played with a child snitch – a bigger version of a snitch which flew slower than an
actual snitch – when he must have been five. He also saw the memory stitched to the
photograph he saw with his mother, on Halloween’s day. It seemed to be an amazing day,
really. There was also a memory of Regulus and him in Lyon, in France. He didn’t even
know he ever went in France before Regulus’ explanation.
One of the memories disturbed him slightly as he saw himself sleeping at Regulus’ for the
first time except at that time Regulus and James dated and so he slept with Potter, in the same
room. They even appeared to be on friendly terms. The sight was odd as they hated each
others for five years now. Well, that time was long gone.

Draco knew the memories were real and not made up because he had dreamt of some of them
as he grew up except Regulus was in none of them and as soon as he viewed them, it felt like
a missing puzzle piece clicked into place inside of him. Regulus promised he’d see more of
them on next Saturday and Draco couldn’t wait. It felt like resolving a big mystery.

So those memories were the reason Draco was looking for Regulus at two in the morning. He
would have tried to find somebody else if he had anyone he trusted in the castle who could
bring him the answers he craved and give him a hand. He desperately needed an ally at
Hogwarts, one he could put in danger without feeling bad because Regulus was an adult and
he promised to take care of him, so really he put himself in danger, Draco wouldn’t be
responsible, not really.

He still struggled to trust him, the memories didn’t magically erase his fears but it reinforced
the impression he had he should have accepted his help earlier. He wished he could say the
same about Snape, alas since his godfather forced himself in his head, Draco didn’t trust him
one bit anymore. His suspicions only strengthened after that disturbing episode he was trying
hard to forget.

Draco walked across the castle towards the aisle where the teachers’ bedrooms were,
navigating through the dark as though he was a wandering soul under the full darkness of the
sky. It was a moonless night. Draco was thankful for that, at least its effects were concealed
while it wasn’t in the sky and he could be himself again – more or less. When he finally got
closer to his destination, he felt something tagging along. A smirk bloomed on his face and
before he even realised, he was smiling a bit.

Potter.

He had mixed feelings about the stalking habits of the bloody Gryffindor but something
about it felt natural, something about it made it all feel normal and it was reassuring to know
he was still trying to find out what Draco was doing – not that he’d be stupid enough to spit it
out to the only person who could potentially stop him. He came to a halt and he spun on his
heels, his hands outstretched as he did to grab the cloak as soon as he’d face him. The
Gryffindor bumped into him, just like he expected him to and he had no difficulty to take off
the cloak. Potter shot him a quizzical look before Draco lifted the disillusionment charm. He
blinked slowly like an idiot and Draco arched an eyebrow as he cocked his head.

“Really?” Draco said unimpressed as he remembered telling very clearly to Potter that he
didn’t want to see him stalking him again.

“How did you-”

“Does that matter?”

Potter grabbed his arm and shoved him in the closest cupboard under Draco’s protestations.
He then closed the door and cast a silencing charm so they wouldn’t be heard from the
outside. Then, Potter waved his wand swiftly and a little ball of light hung in the air above
their head to light up the tiny room. Once that was settled, Potter snatched the cloak off
Draco’s hand who glared at him.

“What are you doing here, Potter?”

“What am I doing here?” he huffed in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Believe whatever you want, Potter. I don’t think I owe you the truth anyway,” he shot back,
his arms crossed on his chest. His gaze fell on the cloak again and his eyes narrowed before
he looked at him warily. “Daddy didn’t come to collect it on Saturday?”

“Sorry?” He asked dumbfounded, earning himself a impressive eye-roll from Draco.

“You lied, didn’t you? No one’s gonna come at Remus’, right?” he deadpanned.

Potter shrugged but the smug smile on his lips told everything Draco needed to know.

Smug bastard.

Draco shoved him against the wall and tried to snatch the cloak again but he pushed it behind
his back, pressing his body against it and blocking it between himself and the wall. Draco
glared at him.

“Give it to me!”

“As if,” Potter genuinely laughed at his face. Draco’s glare hardened.

“I gave it to you so you could protect Sirius and here I find you spying on me, again!” He
emphasised.

“Great analysis of the situation, Malfoy,” he replied sarcastically. “I wouldn’t have had to lie
if you hadn’t taken it from me in first place”

“I took it for good reasons!”

“It’s your fault, really, if you’ve gone all soft for Sirius,” he said, challenging him to deny it.
Draco scowled at him.

“Get fucked Potter,” he spat coolly. “I didn’t know lying was also one of your skills. Is there
anything you can’t do?”

“Blame Regulus for that one. My father always disagreed but Regulus thought I should know
how to lie just in case of,” he shot him a smug smile as he waved the fabric of the cloak he
was holding. “I guess it turned out to be useful in the end”

“Careful Potter, an incendio is so easy to cast,” he threatened. Potter chuckled, utterly

unimpressed and left it to that.

“How do you always know when I’m around?” he asked instead, genuinely curious.

“How do you always know where I am?” he shot back. A smirk slowly drew his lips upward
as Potter looked at him flatly.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he replied.

“That is disturbing. Don’t ever say that again,” he shook his head.

“What? No! You really have a dirty mind,” Potter blushed lightly.

“You thought about it too, don’t blame me for interpreting the weird sentences that come out
of your mouth!”

“There was nothing to interpret here!”

“Sure,” Draco snorted.

He groaned. “So?”

“So?”

“How do you always know when I’m around even when I use the cloak?”

“You’re louder than an Erumpent,” Draco deadpanned.

“That is not true,” he replied slowly, his eyes still narrowed. “Really Malfoy, what’s the point
of having an invisible cloak if you always know where I am?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to answer that question yourself. Or maybe you could stop trying to
stick your ugly nose in my business and leave me the fuck alone,” he replied nonchalantly
with a half-shrug.

“Oh but it’s so much fun why would I stop?” Potter grinned and Draco felt the urge to hide
his smile with the palm of his hand or something. Anything not to see his dimples anymore.
His hand twitched but he didn’t move, fortunately. That’d be embarrassing.

“It depends. Are you going to tell me how you know where I am at all time of the day and
night?”

“I’d love to but I don’t think it’s any of your business, Malfoy”

“I answered your question though”

“No, you deflected”

Draco snorted derisively. “You sound offended but you do the same”

“I know you’re up to something. I’ve seen you wandering around the seventh floor lately. I
don’t know what you’re doing so close to our common room but I don’t like that,” he
refocused on the main topic.

“You’re not the centre of the world, Potter. get over it. Maybe I just fuck some Gryffindors.
Don’t worry, I won’t touch to your favourite mudblood. I leave them to lackeys like you,” he
said with a smirk, just to spite him as he gave him a pointed look.

Potter bit hard the inside of his cheek not to punch him and when he finally put himself
together his lips twitched upward. “Har-har. Very funny. You should try to renew your list of
provocations. It’s getting old”

“It always worked until now,” he replied smugly.

“Maybe I’m getting used to it and so you’re getting boring”

“Or maybe you’ve got a kink like your lunatic dad and you like it when I insult you. I guess
we’ll never find out,” he paused. “Though that would explain why you always come back.
Does baby Potty has a nasty kink?”

Potter’s cheeks reddened violently and Draco smirked with more intend. “Fuck you Malfoy,”
Potter retorted weakly.

Draco snorted before he schooled his face to match a darker expression as he took a step
forward. Their faces only a few centimetres to each other’s. His nose wrinkled in disgust as
he looked at Potter – though he tried not to look at his eyes because he knew they were
beautiful and he didn’t want to do the same mistake twice.

“Leave me alone. Last warning you get before I get very mean,” he threatened in a dangerous
tone.

“I’d love to see that,” Potter shot back. Draco’s stomach fluttered at the determination he
caught in his eyes and the challenging expression printed on his features.

You dumbass! We said not to look at his eyes! He chastised himself silently as he composed
himself.

The thought reminded him of the nickname he’d given him in fourth year. Blaise had never
let him hear the end of it and now that he thought about it, Draco had no remorse. The
nickname matched him perfectly he thought.

Medusa.

Because of his stupid eyes and the fact he could control snakes due to the fact he was a
Parselmouth. That and the rumours he turned Quirell into a statue to escape him in first year.
It fit.
“Don’t tempt me, Potter. Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, does it recall anything to
you?”

Potter laughed again at that. “And I thought you were arrogant before.. That is another level”

Draco smirked. “Tickle and see what happens. That’s the only way to find out if those are
empty words,” he bit the inside of his lips. “For the last time, leave me the fuck alone”

Draco pushed the cupboard open and he strutted out of the narrow room, leaving Potter alone
in the cupboard. He cast another disillusionment charm over his body and he disappeared into
the night, reinvigorated by his encounter with the Gryffindor. He didn’t know why, but
something about fighting with him was getting both extremely annoying and a bit of
amusing, a bit like a game they were playing. Sort of. He truly wanted Potter to leave him
alone but a part of him thought life would get boring the day he would actually listen to him.
He offered a good distraction to his issues. However, he didn’t have the time to play any
twisted games or whatever it was they were doing, his task was important and he couldn’t
mess it up. Pursuing this.. activity with Potter would be compromising, dragging him closer
to the truth than Draco wished him to be.

After that, he went back to the dorm and finished his night peacefully, his anxiety forgotten
somewhere in the castle, in a not so empty cupboard.

***

Draco didn’t hear from Remus during the week-end despite the letter he sent him on Friday.
It was to be expected since Remus was probably busy doing… Whatever it was he was
doing. Draco wondered what he did for a living but he didn’t think the question could come
up naturally if he tried to bring it up in a conversation. Anyway! Remus surely did something
of his days therefore he couldn’t answer right away, Draco knew it. So, when no letters came
on Saturday nor on Sunday morning, he tried not to think much about it, not to overthink it as
he’d been told the ministry wouldn’t send anyone before a while but he was still worried.

Now he knew it was all a lie Potter made up to get his cloak back, Draco felt both humiliated
and angry at the Gryffindor but another feeling lingered on the surface, one so intense he
couldn’t miss it even if he tried really hard – and he did try. His reaction about the whole
ordeal surprised him a bit. He shouldn’t be so surprised considering the experience he shared
with Sirius a few months back but it still stung in a weird way to feel scared for him. He
supposed fighting death eaters together created strong bonds but he knew there was
something else.

Until Potter thought it’d be smart to lie to him – and okay, it was. Draco had to admit it, he
definitely didn’t see it coming from someone like the Saviour of the bloody Wizarding
World, it was way too Slytherin of him he thought but he shouldn’t be surprised considering
he grew up with Regulus – Draco didn’t think much of the new bond tying him to Sirius. He
thought he respected him more than before or even that maybe he tolerated him. He didn’t
even question it when he felt comfortable enough to open up to him. It just made sense at the
time, in a very rational way.

Now, he wasn’t so sure it was the reason that made him feel comfortable around him.
Harry sodding Potter always has to make everything complicated, doesn’t he? He thought
bitterly as he glared at him from his side of the Great Hall. Their eyes locked and the other
boy returned the glare with the same intensity. Draco was almost surprised it didn’t trigger an
avalanche of lightning bolts through the room. He couldn’t believe he’d been friendly to him
once.

Twice, his brain supplied helpfully, reminding him of that time in the Astronomy Tower on
Friday night. Draco scowled harder, his knuckles turned white around the cutleries. He
promised himself he wouldn’t do the same mistake again. If even Harry Potter turned out to
be untrustworthy then what was the world coming to?

His thoughts were interrupted by the thousands of owls entering the Great Hall to drop the
letters and packages from home. Draco saw Remus’ owl immediately and he had to resist to
the urge to smile. He was finally receiving an answer. To his surprise, the owl didn’t fly to his
direction but to Potter’s instead and he felt the urge to stab something – not someone, not yet.
He wasn’t like his aunt just yet – so he stabbed his eggs with much force than necessary.
When he lifted his gaze the owl flew right to him and he relaxed slightly.

Of course he would answer, he wouldn’t leave me without an answer.

The owl dropped the letter right in his hands as he stretched them to receive it at the right
time – he was getting good at this. He was done with the owls dropping letters and packages
right into his food. As soon as Remus’ owl flew away, a larger package arrived in his
direction and he caught it swiftly as well. The owl which delivered it didn’t look like any he
knew so he looked at the package warily before he pushed it aside. He’d open it later.

“Don’t open it,” he heard Regulus’ voice in his head and he tried not to flinch. “It’s Bella’s
owl”

Draco glared at him and Regulus only gave him a knowing look from the table where he was
eating. Draco refocused on his plate instead but he glanced at the package a few times. As
soon as he finished eating, he resumed glaring at Potter from where he was. The Gryffindor
did too, his eyes narrowed as though he tried to see through the package. Draco didn’t unlock
his gaze from his until Potter grabbed the letter Remus’ sent him. Draco decided to do the
same since their silent fight was over and he had to keep himself busy. He took the envelop
and ripped it open mercilessly, then he took the letter out and unfolded it before he began to
read.

“Draco,

I appreciate that you worry about me though I must admit your letter was kind of unexpected
since you never answered any of mine whenever I reached out.”

Draco winced at that. He should be a little more compassionate. As soon as the thought fully
formed, Draco scowled at his own treacherous mind.

“ Everything is going alright here. Obviously, I do not live at the shack but you knew that
already. However, that place I live in and the people living here are doing alright, thank you
for asking. The moon is exhausting me more and more each month. I guess I’m not getting
younger and each day proves so. I hope you’re not too badly affected by the moon and that
the chocolates help. I was glad to hear you deal with your emotions a bit better than before
and that you still have some chocolates. I’ll send you some more along with the Wolfsbane
potions.

That information you heard at Hogwarts is obviously fake. I asked to my friends who work at
the ministry and they told me they didn’t do such thing so you have nothing to worry about.
Also, I did not sign that register and if you ever have an advice to take from me it would be
that one: please do not sign it neither when you’ll come of age. It’s a tracker and now, more
than ever, you can’t compromise yourself. The ministry is becoming less and less safe as the
war is settling. But you didn’t hear that from me.

The point is: no matter what you do, do not sign it. Do not give ammunitions to people who
could hurt you, use you or use the wolf to cause harm. I know some people will try to
convince you otherwise, but if you have to trust me just once in your life, please trust me
when I say that. The ministry used the register during the first war to track down the
werewolves and they locked them in cells so ridiculously small at the ministry. Of course, it
all occurred in the most dehumanising conditions you could imagine.”

That part of the letter sent shivers down his spine. It gave him horrible flashbacks from the
chains he saw back in the shrieking shack and he struggled to imagine worse than that.
Though Remus seemed to think worse existed and that was extremely concerning and
frightening. It finished to convince him not to ever sign that stupid register no matter what.

“Padfoot said he’s glad you asked about him but you have nothing to worry about. He stays
indoors and no one knows where he is hiding so he’s safe for now. Let’s hope it remains the
same for a bit longer. Speaking of the devil, he will probably won’t be there during the next
full moon. It’s getting more and more dangerous to leave and we’re still discussing the
consequences the evolution of the situation is bringing along.

I was surprised to learn Dumbledore didn’t tell you anything yet. He should have already
come to you by now. I did send the letter as we agreed I would. I explained everything to him
and I also asked him to be discreet about it but it was useless since Dumbledore is an
extremely secretive person, he didn’t need the reminder. However I also told him you were
spending the full moon with me outside of Hogwarts and therefore you wouldn’t ever be a
threat to the students so he probably didn’t tell Madame Pomfrey. That must be why he didn’t
think it was necessary to discuss the situation with you.

I hope it helps and answers your questions. Do not hesitate to send another letter if you need
to, I’ll reply gladly.

Take care of yourself until then,

See you soon.

R.J.A-L.”

Draco sighed as he shoved the letter back into the envelop before he tidied it in the pocket of
the robes. When he lifted his chin, Gregory and Vincent were walking past him. A brilliant
idea came up in his mind and his eyes glistened with a new determination.

“Hey Crabbe, Goyle!” he called as they walked away. They stopped dead in their tracks
before they came back on their steps and stopped in front of Draco.

“Draco? What is it?” Greg asked. “Everything’s alright?”

“How much do you hate Potter?” Draco asked.

“Probably as much as you do,” Vincent replied instantly, his face distorted in disgust as he
glared at the Gryffindor table.

Thankfully enough, they seemed to hate Potter more than he did otherwise he’d be fucked.
They wouldn’t try to play any game with him just for the fun of it.

“Great. I knew I could count on you. I’m preparing something. Something big. Are you in?”
he smirked.

“What do you need?” they replied as one. Draco’s smile widened slightly. It was exactly the
answer he wanted from them.

“We’ll talk about this tonight. Join me at the place you know, at the time you know,” he said.
It wasn’t hard to tell they hadn’t forgotten what he was talking about as they nodded quickly.
Draco nodded back curtly and they left him alone.

Draco looked at the Gryffindor table again, a satisfied smile stitched on his lips. That silly
game had lasted long enough. It was time to make things harder for Potter and luckily enough
Greg and Vince knew exactly how to do that. He knew it was going against the rules he
obliged himself to follow – the main one being not getting his friends involved in this but it
was getting harder as time went by to pretend he didn’t need help. Besides, he trusted Greg
and Vince enough to know they wouldn’t tell anyone what he was doing.

It was probably mean of him to keep ignoring Pansy whereas he accepted to talk to his
friends again – most of them at least – and he even made a new one but Pansy was a whole
other case. She meant too much to get her involved even just a bit. He loved her too much to
put one hair of hers in danger. He’d die before doing so.

They were just six when he promised her he would always protect her against everyone and
everything and he had carried that promise with him through the years. He hexed and cursed
people who made fun of her in second year, he even physically got into a fight once after a
guy lifted her skirt in the courtyard. His fist had been thrown and aimed before he could hold
it back, breaking the nose of the other guy and one of his own fingers in the operation since
he definitely didn’t know how to throw a punch without hurting himself.

In other words, he’d go and reach for the stars if that’s what it took to keep her safe. He hated
that this time, the person she had to be protected from was him. He promised himself he’d
never hurt her but it was hard to keep that promise. The long look she shot in his direction
every time they were in the same room were painful to ignore and it often put him in a bad
mood because he honestly didn’t want to do that but it was for the best.
He gathered his stuff quickly and he left the Great Hall – not before he glued Potter’s arse on
his bench to make sure he wouldn’t follow him – the package under his arm and his robes
floating behind him as he strutted his way back to the dungeon to drop it in his dorm. He’d
open it later, no matter what Regulus thought about it. You’d think he’d begin to listen to him
after everything, right? Well, no. Draco still didn’t trust him, not to say he trusted his aunt
better but he actually knew her at least.

Though he hated thinking about his aunt because it always brought back the memory of that
article he found in the Room of Requirement the first time he went there. He still couldn’t
believe she killed Rita and it went unpunished. The ministry really was useless. However, it
wasn’t so surprising considering she literally broke out from Azkaban and the ministry never
caught half of the death eaters who escaped that day. His own father was out! Suddenly,
Draco seemed to understand what Remus had meant when he had said the ministry wasn’t
safe anymore.

Did the death eater overthrow the government? Are they about to attack? Merlin, everyone
would die!

He shook his head as he tried to think about something else before anxiety could feed on the
thoughts he was having. He had enough on his plate already. It was kind of sad to say but he
missed the days he used to look at the world through the hole of the door, before Sirius and
Remus smashed it open for him. His vision of life was narrowed and even kind of wrong he
realised now when he looked back but things were so much easier. It was mostly self-centred
and he didn’t have to worry about everything he worried about now. Maybe he would have
followed his father’s steps willingly and even enjoyed it rather than feeling like a curse was
cast upon him.

Draco shook his head again. Of course he wouldn’t think that. Of course that wouldn’t have
happened. He hated his father even before their intervention and he clearly didn’t want to
follow his steps way before that.

As he took another corridor to reach the dungeons, he heard the sound of voices raising
louder after each steps. He frowned. It sounded like someone was having a fight. He was
about to move past it without paying any attention to it until he recognised one of the voices.
León’s voice and Willow’s. Intrigued by the outburst he heard from the other side of the wall,
Draco approached the sound. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see but it was
definitely not that.

León was against the wall and he shrugged off a hand violently. Draco caught a glimpse of
what he thought looked like a wing but it disappeared so fast he thought he probably dreamt
it. Willow was next to León, holding her ground fiercely as she tried to use her body as a
shield, standing between León and an Auror. Draco really didn’t expect an Auror to get in a
fight with students so he couldn’t help but imagine the worst.

What had León done? He knew León was a threat but he never thought he’d be that much of
a threat either, especially not one to the school. Not one that required the Auror to draw his
wand and holding it under his chin in a threatening way. It took a moment before Draco
realised León’s usual icy eyes were both so dark they looked black. He couldn’t even
distinguish the pupils anymore but he thought it was probably because of the poor lighting of
the corridor.

“You’re basically all rapists,” the Auror said harshly, never lowering his wand. “Your race
should be exterminated”

Draco frowned deeper. What was that about?

“What’s wrong dude? One of mine fucked your wife or something? What’s your fucking
problem?” León spat coolly as he pressed his head further against the wall to get rid of the
wand sinking in the skin of his neck.

“León!” Willow chastised before she reported her gaze on the Auror. ”What you’re doing is
illegal! You have to let him go, he hasn’t done anything wrong!” She kept pleading, repeating
the same sentence which had drawn Draco’s attention in first place. The Auror obviously
didn’t care.

“What’s going on?” Draco asked as he took another step forward. The three of them whipped
their heads to look at him.

“Nothing, Mr Malfoy. We were done,” the Auror said before he literally spat at León’s face
who flinched violently. Draco looked at them horrified. Was that even allowed by the
ministry? The Auror smirked before he lowered his wand and walked up to Draco. Out of the
corner of his eye, Draco saw León clenching and unclenching his fists before he wiped off
the spit from his face. He looked deeply humiliated, his chest heaved with each breath. Draco
had never seen him so angry before.

The Auror stopped next to him and so Draco glanced at him warily as the Auror leaned on to
whisper to his ear “Glory to the Dark Lord”. Draco’s eyes widened slightly before they
welled up a bit. He released a shaky breath.

That answered the question. The Ministry was definitely corrupted. Unsafe. Tarnished.

The Auror – or should he call him a death eater instead? – looked at him expectantly and so
Draco whispered the same words quietly. His throat tight, he blinked the tears away quickly.
He didn’t know there were a few death eaters in the school already. It definitely made
everything even more complicated.

Always more complications.

The Auror left the corridor with one last glare in León’s direction. As soon as he left, León
straightened to his full length and he walked past Draco, his jaw clenched as he swallowed
harshly.

“León! Wait. Are you okay?” Draco asked.

“Fine,” he replied dryly before he quickened his pace and all but ran out of the corridor.

Draco looked at his silhouette disappearing before he turned to look at Willow.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“What do you think?” she shook her head. “He didn’t think he would be discriminated here,
there are so many of them in France,” she explained. Though it didn’t explain much, if
anything it confused him even more.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, a quizzical look on the face.

“Well, León of course!”

Draco shook his head slightly, completely lost. “I’m sorry I don’t understand,” he confessed.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Tell me what?” he frowned.

“Oh that is so much like him not to tell his roommates!” she shook her head, her hands on her
hips, disapproving him. “León’s a Veela,” she finally said. “Or half of one, I’m not sure. You
should ask him but that’s just details”

Draco’s mouth fell agape. That explained the reaction he had had around him. It made so
much more sense now. Fuck. It meant..

Fuck.

“Draco?” she called.

“I’ve got to go,” he said as he spun on his heels and ran in the same direction León took
earlier.

He ran and ran and ran again as though he could outrun the sinking truth. He knew what the
Veela were, obviously. After people began to talk about him as though he was one of them,
he did some research at the library and he learned a lot.

He knew. He knew it deep down but he always refused to accept it because hiding from the
truth was the thing he did the best.

If he weren’t into guys at all, he wouldn’t have reacted to León. He knew that.

Draco ran inside the common room and immediately ran upstairs to reach his dorm. When he
pushed the door open, León was sitting on his bed, his head between his hands. His long plait
fell over his shoulder. Draco froze. He hesitated to run in the opposite direction but he still
had his package to leave in his dorm.

“She told you, didn’t she?” León lifted his head and looked at Draco, his jaw clenched but his
tone calm. His eyes were back to normal. Draco swallowed and nodded slowly. He didn’t
trust his voice to speak. “Are you mad? That I didn’t tell you?” he checked. Draco shook his
head and sighed slowly before he walked to his bed and sat on it, leaving the package above
the sheets.
“Do they know? Theo and Blaise, I mean,” he asked quietly, looking at his laps.

“Yes,” he replied honestly.

“Do they.. Did they,” his voice cracked and he cleared it before he looked at León again. “Did
they..?”

León frowned in confusion. Draco sighed and rubbed his cheekbone with the back of his
finger before he twisted one of his rings between his fingers nervously.

“Did they react to you like I.. did?” he asked, unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d want to talk about this,” he admitted, surprised.

“They didn’t, did they?” he insisted.

He still had a bit of hope, really. It was silly but Draco had never read anything about male
Veela – that was mainly why he had never believed he was one, because they simply didn’t
exist in books – and so he thought it was maybe just one of León’s powers.

“No, they didn’t. Well, Blaise did but that’s because—” he shut his mouth before he finished
that sentence. He eyed Draco cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction to all of this. “You
didn’t know, did you? I thought your friends didn’t know because you didn’t tell them you
were into guys, that you were not out yet to them. I didn’t think you didn’t know it yourself,”
he said softly before he pursed his lips together.

Draco’s gaze went unfocused as he fixed the floor before he rubbed his face with both of his
hands. “I knew it, kind of. Deep down. I always found excuses to explain it but it has never
been impossible to deny until.. Well, until you I guess,” he rolled his tongue along his cheek
before he finally looked up. “What I don’t understand is why doesn’t it feel like that anymore
when you’re around?” he wasn’t going to admit it still felt a bit like that. He still had some
pride. “Did I get used to you?” he frowned.

“No,” he rubbed his neck. “Promise you won’t be mad,” he winced.

“Why does it feel like I’m going to get mad?” he replied flatly.

“Sorry,” he winced again.

“Just tell me the truth. Do you control it? Did you use it on me or something?” he asked.
León nodded sheepishly.

“But only once. The first time, it was accidental, I swear!” he said in a rush. “When you first
arrived in the dorm, the night we met. It requires a lot of concentration not to use my power
because it’s like breathing to me, you know? And I wasn’t careful enough because I was
alone in the dorm, Blaise was in the shower and Nott was not there yet. So I just relaxed, I
guess? And then you arrived and.. Well it worked on you. I noticed it immediately because of
the way you smelled,” he explained before he blushed slightly. “Wait no, that’s not— I didn’t
— I'm not saying— I didn’t smell you it’s just— fuck,” he said as he rambled.
Draco chuckled a bit, amused by the way León panicked as he explained himself. It made
him feel better.

León looked up before he narrowed his eyes. “You— you think it’s funny?” he asked
confused. Draco laughed again and as the seconds passed, his laughter resonated louder in the
room until it turned hysterical. León eyed him cautiously. “Mate, are you okay?”

Draco shook his head as he clasped his hand over his mouth. His laughter turned into sob and
León stood up to come and sit next to him. He rubbed his back with kindness as Draco’s
shoulders shook with the weight of reality weighing on him. León tugged at his sleeve to pull
him in a hug and Draco allowed it. He hid his face against León’s chest, his arms still along
his body while León rocked him slowly to calm him down.

“Fuck I’m gay!” Draco exclaimed when he finally could talk.

“What about Willow?”

“Gay! Bi! What does it change?! I still have a thing for blokes! My father is so going to kill
me!” he sniffed as he sat up and wiped his tears.

“No one has to know,” he said softly.

“But I know!” he said as he pulled on his hair gently, his eyes wide and tearful as he looked
at him. León looked back with sadness before he brushed his cheek with his thumb to wipe
his tears off his face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you,” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re a Veela?”

León pursed his lips together. “I’m not sure we should talk about that now—” he tried.

“Just tell me why. Why did everybody but me knew? Is it because I treated you like shit?
Because if it is, I understand”

“It’s not,” León denied immediately.

“Then why?” Draco asked with pleading eyes.

“What would it have changed if I had told you earlier?”

“I don’t know! Everything! At least I could have talked about this with Si- someone,” he said
as he thought about the conversation he had had with Sirius.

“I didn’t want you to think it wasn’t real,” he whispered, a certain vulnerability hanging in his
words.

“What?”
“Our friendship. The way you felt and all that. I didn’t want you to think I was just
manipulating you with my powers. I wanted you to like me for me,” he shrugged. “That’s
stupid I know”

Draco nodded as he acknowledge him. “No it’s not,” he said. “I understand. Can you just
please never use your powers against me, like ever again?”

“I promise,” he chuckled softly.

“Alright. What about your eyes?” he asked.

“My eyes?”

“You can tell me the truth now. Why do they change colours?”

León chuckled again. “You’re really obsessed with my eyes,” he laughed.

“Yours and everyone, basically,” he mumbled as he thought about Potter. “So?”

“I don’t know exactly why they do that but I know each colour matches an emotion. Once
you spot which colour matches which emotion, I’m an open book. It’s easy to read me,” he
laughed.

“Cool,” he nodded. “Thanks for telling me”

“Sure,” he smiled. “Friends?”

Draco inhaled deeply and a small smile appeared on his lips.

“Friends,” he nodded.
 A Good Day
Chapter Notes

TW drug use

I think that's it.

Sunday 20th of October 1996.

It turned out skipping class was not well received by Draco’s teacher. Apparently, spending
time with a new friend was not a good reason enough to miss classes and so that afternoon he
spent with León by the lake earned him a few hours of detentions this week. He was currently
dealing with the last two hours he still had to spend in detention on that Sunday afternoon, his
hands forming words on the paper while his brain was travelling elsewhere like a vagabond.
He had no regret though. It was worth it even though those hours had been the longest of
Draco’s life, honestly.

And he wasn’t even being dramatic.

Professor Binns thought the appropriate punishment for his behaviour was writing an essay
about the anti-constitutional laws smothering the lives of the hybrids of the magical world
back in the seventeenth century. He couldn’t have found anything more boring even if he had
tried and Draco supposed it fit for a punishment because he wasn’t supposed to enjoy it, was
he?

Draco hated how annoying the subject was but at least that seemed more conventional than
being bitten by a werewolf just because of his father’s failures on the order of a mad man he
was now coaxed to obey and submit to. But really, what else could’ve been expected from a
man who tried to kill a baby – and failed? Copying lines?

He snorted aloud at that. The picture of the Dark Lord forcing him to copy lines about the
importance of blood purity was too funny not to react. A thought slipped in at the same time,
making him think about how nice it was that he finally could laugh about it rather than dwell
on his new situation – which was still new, even after almost four moons.

“Something amuses you, Mr Malfoy?” Professor Binns asked as he lifted his head from the
rolled parchments covering his desk. Draco had no idea what he was working on but he was
utterly absorbed by it and Draco found it was fascinating because that man was definitely not
enthusiastic about anything anymore.

“No, sir,” he replied blankly and he bowed his head lower to hide his smile.
“I advise you focus on your essay, then. You barely have a few minutes left to finish it before
you hand it in, after all,” he replied before he went back to his reading. Draco felt relieved by
the news it was almost over.

His wrist was on fire and he was getting a bit tired after spending so many hours up but he
wasn’t complaining because for the first time in days, he didn’t feel that bad. He felt even
quite alright despite the full moon coming soon. He had a bit of a migraine and his appetite
was definitely not as present as it should be, but life wasn’t as bad lately.

His father hadn’t sent a letter in what felt like forever – though maybe it wasn’t a good omen
–, on the other hand he received more letters from Remus than he usually did and Sirius even
wrote a line or two sometimes. He didn’t expect it to be as comforting as it was but it really
felt heart-warming to hear from both of them. His mother also sent him a letter and a few
sweets – his favourite – and it’d been happy to hear from her. He wrote her back, explaining
he wouldn’t come back home on the 26th because it was the day of the full moon but that
he’d be there on Sunday afternoon. His mother hadn’t answered yet but he was sure she
wouldn’t mind. He also spent more time with León, Theo and Blaise and he was slowly but
surely retying the bond he almost broke with Vince and Greg.

Life wasn’t as sad as it used to be and he surprised himself smiling from time to time or
finding joy in the little things he didn’t expect. Things as such as spending time with Potter.

Their late night meetings continued to happen, though Draco wasn’t sure how it had even
become an habit. However, it wasn’t one he fancied to break. One night, he couldn’t sleep
and as he’d rolled and squirmed in his bed, desperate to fall asleep, his mind had gone back
to that time in the astronomy tower. He’d remembered how peaceful he had felt after Potter
had finally shut his mouth and disappeared under his cloak. After debating whether or not he
should go for another nocturnal trip, Draco had sprung out of bed and shoved his feet in his
slippers before he had disappeared into the night, trusting his feet to take him to the
astronomy tower.

Potter had arrived shortly after. Draco was tempted to fight him like he had before but he’d
felt too calm and Potter hadn’t taken off the cloak during the whole time he had been there so
Draco supposed he could allow it. If not for his over-developed instinct, Draco wouldn’t have
known the Gryffindor was there, after all.

However, the next day when he returned to the astronomy tower, Potter had arrived shortly
after again and what Draco had initially thought would’ve been a one time thing, a simple
coincidence if you will, became a silent agreement that the Astronomy tower would be a no
Man’s land where they wouldn’t fight each other and simply meet there to stargaze together –
even though Draco was still supposed to ignore Potter’s presence breathing down his neck.

At this point Draco couldn’t tell whether he was the one chasing Potter for attention because
it felt familiar and easy to fight with him or if it was the other way around, Potter chasing him
desperately to catch him doing something illegal. Either way, they kept ending at the top of
the Astronomy tower almost every nights, pulled closer to each other like magnets as they
stargazed in the peaceful and quiet embrace of the night surrounding the stars and
highlighting their magnificence. As the days went by, Potter, who was at first sitting as far as
possible from Draco, was coming closer to him until they were at a respectable distance from
each other. Though it was respectable for friends to stand so close, definitely not enemies but
Draco didn’t bother fighting over details like that.

Potter was never physically visible, always hidden under his cloak but he knew Draco knew
he was there. His instinct never failed him after all. It felt like Potter wanted Draco to catch
him, to react to his presence but didn’t dare to make it too obvious – because Draco could
pretend he didn’t know he was there when he was invisible but he couldn’t ignore it if he saw
the golden boy’s head floating in the air just like he had that one time.

Draco suspected they never talked because they both knew the fragile truce they had
involuntarily come up with could shatter easily. It would’ve been easy to snap from that
enjoyable moment to fall into something deeper, darker and then before they’d know a fight
would break out and it’d be a mess. Draco wouldn’t mind, not really, because that would be
easy to fight with him but Potter hadn’t provoked him and Draco was too exhausted to start
an argument most of the times so they just leaned there, at the highest point of the tower, and
they enjoyed the night together until eventually one of them left. Potter often left first, around
one in the morning but sometimes it was Draco.

Instead of going back to his dormitory like anyone would – like Potter would – Draco
wandered around the corridors a bit longer until he’d reach the seventh floor where he’d enter
the Room of Requirement. After so many nights spent sneaking in the castle after curfew,
Draco now knew when and where the Aurors would be and at what time. Avoiding bumping
into Filch was not so hard neither when you knew the right passageways to take like Draco
did.

Each and every one of his nights ended in the Room of Requirement. No matter what, he
wouldn’t leave the room until six in the morning, working restlessly on his task as he kept
trying to decipher the runes from the cabinet. He wasn’t making any progress and it was
becoming really frustrating at this point. He would be pulling his hair out very soon if he
didn’t find something – anything – quickly. But he didn’t stop trying and that was what
mattered the most.

The balance had been hard to find for his new daily routine and he’d wasted a lot of time
crying over his poor life the past few months but a new flame ignited inside and kept him
going. During the day he would go to his classes, after that he’d spend a bit of time with his
friends who definitely kept him sane and grounded despite he wished he didn’t need to rely
on them so much and at night he’d meet with Potter before going back to the Room of
Requirement. It was easy to keep up with the habit but it definitely costed him a lot.

His sleeping pattern, for one. Draco hadn’t had a night of sleep in a week. He would stay up
all night six days a week and then he’d sleep on the seventh day to reload the batteries and
granting the energy his body desperately needed to survive another week. He was literally
living one week at a time, taking things as they came up. He knew his behaviour was
unhealthy and the consequences on his health couldn’t be good as he relied on potions way
too much – which honestly started to have weird effects on him but he couldn’t afford not to
take them. Greg, Vince and him had raided Regulus’ potions store cupboard and now Draco
had a large supplies of potions hidden in the Room of Requirement for when he needed them.
But the potions weren’t doing a proper job at keeping him going after the third day with no
sleep at all. It felt like he was high with both exhaustion and the effluvium of the potions he
had. He didn’t dress his hair anymore, he left his curls framing his face – though they were
not too long yet, barely brushing his temples – instead of pulling his hair back like he used to
because it took too much efforts and he didn’t have the energy. Not to mention he hadn’t
taken care of himself in what felt like ages. The last being on the day his father had been tried
and humiliated himself. Draco still thought about his face from time to time.

However, now he asked for Vince’s and Greg’s help, Draco noticed how easier it was to deal
with his task and the things that were expected from him because he didn’t have to handle
everything on his own anymore. Someone else helped. He asked them to guard the doors of
the Room of Requirement when he went there during daytime to make sure Potter wouldn’t
sneak in so it was one less problem to care about. With Potter out of frame, it felt like Draco
had much more time to deal with everything else, just like he expected it. Vince and Greg
didn’t ask question, they simply went along with anything he asked from them. Draco felt
bad for dragging them into this mess but he had to accept at some point that he did need help.

“Time’s up. Your detention is over, you may go now,” Professor Binns said without looking
at him.

Draco sighed in relief. His wrist was about to drop dead, detaching itself from the rest of his
body. He dropped the quill carelessly and he walked to the teacher’s desk to hand in his
essay. He didn’t think he had done too bad though he had been quite distracted by the
multiple times he yawned loudly. He was so close to rest his head in his hands and sleep. It
sounded like such an appealing idea. But he couldn’t.

But at the same time, it was Sunday and so it was supposed to be his day off. The only day
during the week when he allowed his body and mind to rest. He pushed the thought of the
warmth of his bed away as he kept repeating to himself that the day wasn’t over just yet.

Instead, as soon as his essay was left on Binns’ desk, out of his eyesight, Draco gathered his
stuff and tucked his books under his arm before he walked out of the room. He rolled his eyes
fondly when he noticed León was leaning against the wall, his posture casual and his lips
tugged at by a confident smile. His white hair was split in two plaits today, beginning at the
front of his skull and falling down the small of his back. He had a few flowers tucked in
them, pale blue and white petals illuminating his silvery hair, making him look like a fairy
straight from the muggle folklore León was so fond of. Draco could scarce believe his eyes.
He looked absolutely stunning.

He took a step forward to approach him and León flashed him one of his dashing smiles
which left Draco blinded as though somebody had cast lumos solem to his face.

Beautiful.

“That’s new,” he greeted him with a nod to the flowers in his hair. León’s smile widened.

“Yeah, I’m trying something. Don’t you like it?” he asked as they began to walk back to the
Slytherin common room.
“Yes, I do actually. It looks... nice,” he trailed the word as he studied León like a piece of art.
León’s smile only kept growing as he shot him a look so intense Draco was sure he could see
right through him.

“Thanks. Luna did that for me”

“Luna?” he echoed, startled.

“Yep. She’s a Ravenclaw. I believe she’s a year younger than us though so you probably
don’t know her”

“No, no. I do know her,” he shook his head as he waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh? What is it then?”

“I just didn’t expect you to know her too. I mean.. It’s Loony Lovegood we’re talking about,”
his nose wrinkled.

“Don’t talk about her like that. She’s really amazing, you know”

“I wouldn’t know actually,” a pause. “She’s friend with Potter,” he spat.

“Harry?”

“Potter,” he corrected, spitting the name like a slur as he gave him a stern look.

“Yeah well, he’s nice too,” he shrugged.

Draco shot him a weird look. “You’re fucking weird, you know”

“Am I?” he let out a startled laugh.

“How you were sorted into Slytherin is a veritable enigma. I mean, you really are a
Hufflepuff, befriending every single stray dogs on your path”

León smirked. “I believe we both know it’s not true. You know all too well why I am a
Slytherin”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “Are you talking about the Auror you manipulated? Because that
was kind of cunning and also a bit crazy, if you ask me”

“I mean yes. That… Among other things,” he smirked. Draco shot him a quizzical look. “You
don’t want to know, trust me”

“Maybe I do”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “But maybe I don’t want to tell you”

Draco chuckled softly and rolled his eyes. “That’s because you’re lying. There are no other
things”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he laughed.

The trip back to the dungeon wasn’t so long when Draco didn’t have to cross half the castle
alone. It felt even rather nice.

“I can’t believe you picked me up from my detention,” Draco chuckled eventually.

“I feel like it’s my fault if you had one in first place”

“It really isn’t. I knew I had class but I chose to stay with you,” he shrugged.

“That’s weird for someone who hated my guts,” he smirked.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Those are strong words. I wouldn’t say I hated you”

“You saddled me with that ‘Jack Frost’ nickname, you almost hexed my balls off multiple
times and you glared at me so often I was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t just your face,” he
listed, counting on his fingers as he did. “Should I continue?”

Draco winced a bit, his ears turning a light shade of pink with embarrassment.

“Yeah well, people change,” he shrugged.

“I don’t think you changed,” León said softly.

“Oh yeah because I still want to hex you,” he retorted sarcastically.

“No I just mean–“ he paused as he pressed his lips together, choosing his words carefully
before he opened his mouth again. “I don’t think you changed, I think the situation did. You
didn’t trust me and you didn’t see a friend in me, at first. I was a threat, an intruder coming
into your space who left only little room for your habits. I don’t know, I think maybe you just
struggle with disparities in your life and changes in general,” he shrugged. “But I might be
wrong, it’s just how it feels”

If that wasn’t all too real..

Draco did struggle with changes. He hated that because he didn’t know how to deal with it
and it always left him disorientated and confused. It felt like something was wrong when
everything wasn’t like it were supposed to be. So really, that was a good analysis of the
situation.

“I also think eventually you just got used to see me around and you finally included me in
what you considers normal and usual. That, and the fact that I saved your arse,” León smiled
smugly. “Well, that, the fact I saved your arse and my incredible charm which turns you on,”
he reiterated.

Draco shoved him playfully. “Shove off!” He said with no venom in his words.
“Mr Malfoy?” he heard a drawling voice calling him behind him as they were now really
close to the Slytherin common room.

Draco gritted his teeth. He knew exactly who he’d see if he dared to spin on his heels and
look at the person calling him. He froze and his fist clenched unconsciously as he tensed up.
León shot him a confused look before they turned around as one to look at the professor
standing behind them.

“Professor Snape,” he replied, his voice dull and thick with anger he poorly dissimulated.
Snape gave him an unimpressed look.

“I believe we shall talk,” Snape said after an uncomfortable silence during which Draco and
he stared at each other.

Draco’s jaw clenched. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” he replied flatly though his tone left no room for discussion.

Draco stared at him a bit longer before he turned his head to look at León. “You should go
back to the common room, I’ll join you in a minute,” he said.

“Are you sure? I could stay,” he offered softly as he couldn’t help but notice how stiff
Draco’s shoulders were.

“Your assistance won’t be needed, Mr Delacour,” Snape snapped.

León pressed his lips together and nodded. “Alright, professor,” he shot a look at Snape
before he refocused on Draco. “I leave you to it then. I’ll tell the others you’ll be back
shortly”

Draco nodded and watched him leave without another word. When the snake running along
the stones of the wall arched to form the frame of a door after León said the password, Draco
watched him walking right through the wall and disappeared out of sight. Draco refocused on
Snape who was still standing there. None of them had moved a centimetre, looking like two
disturbing statues standing tall in the corridor.

They looked so… Out of place.

Their silent battle kept going, using their eyes as a weapon as Snape narrowed his and Draco
glared at him involuntarily. After a while, Snape decided the silence had stretched for far too
long and eventually he spun on his heels and walked away in the direction of his former
classroom, the one now occupied by Regulus. He was obviously expecting Draco to follow
and so he did. When he entered, Regulus was brewing a potion in the back of the room and
Draco wondered for a second if they knew he had stolen from the store cupboard.

He tried not to let the guilt settling on his features and he schooled his expression to look
bored rather than angry. It took a lot of efforts, Draco thought. It used to be so easy but ever
since June – or maybe was it July – Draco struggled not to show emotions except in cases
where his survival relied on it, like that time he shared with the Dark Lord during the
summer. Even though he hadn’t managed to clear his features from any traces of fear and
anxiety or pain, he’d managed not to show how disgusted he was with the man as well as all
the hatred he felt for him. That was something, though it was not quite enough.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Draco noticed Regulus’ movements stopped as he moved from
where he’d been to approach them. Draco’s eyes didn’t leave Snape, definitely ready for an
eventual attack as he forced himself to raise barriers in his mind. He had to refrain himself
from frowning when he noticed his shields were weakened by something, but he couldn’t put
his fingers on the reason causing such fragility to his shields. It felt like they were weaker
than they had been during the summer when he first learned occlumency with Bellatrix.

Regulus cleared his voice eventually, letting everyone know he was about to speak but Draco
refused to tear his gaze off from his godfather. Snape’s face matched Draco’s expression but
Draco hated that he couldn’t read through him. He hated that Snape acted as though Draco
was the one who had done something he should apologise for when it was more than obvious
to everyone gathered in the room – okay so that was not much people but that was enough –
that it should be the other way around. Well, it was clear to everyone but Snape, it seemed.

“You must be wondering why we asked you to come,” Regulus said blankly.

Draco almost laughed. Ask was a big word considering Snape had pronounced only a few
words and none of them were meant to invite Draco in this classroom.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” he replied flatly, his eyes never leaving his godfather who
looked at him coolly.

“This is about what happened last time the three of us were gathered in this room,” Regulus
continued. Draco groaned.

“Honestly Professor Black, I’m not interested in anything Severus has to say,” he
deadpanned, his fist clenched again at his sides.

“I shouldn’t have used legilimency on you,” Snape said anyway. His voice was ragged, a bit
as though it were really draining and difficult for him to say those words.

Fair enough .

Draco knew how proud his godfather was and it was probably the closest thing to an apology
he’d ever receive. He knew he should be thankful Snape said those words because of how
hard it was for him but Draco didn’t think it was enough. He violated his privacy with no
warning and he searched his head despite he felt Draco was trying hard to push him out. He
didn’t care about Draco, if he pulled something like that. And so, in return, Draco didn’t care
about his shitty apology. He snorted aloud before he crossed his arms on his chest, pressing
them tightly as he tried his best not to let his anger exploding.

“Oh really? What makes you think that?” he snapped.

Regulus sighed by his side and patted Snape’s shoulder before he muttered something along
the lines “I told you that wouldn’t suffice. Good luck to fix that,” and he moved to his desk
where he sat and watched the scene unfolding before his eyes.

“Draco, I am aware this was a mistake but I was just trying to protect you,” Snape said, his
face remained emotionless and Draco hated it. He would usually admire it but today he
needed to trigger a reaction out of his godfather, anything to prove it was important to him
just as much as it was to Draco.

“Is that the best you can do? You’re not even sorry!” he scoffed in disbelief as he threw a
hand in the air.

“No, I’m not”

Draco choked on a startled laugh. At least he admitted it but for some reasons it did little to
comfort him.

“How would you feel if someone came in and used legilimency on you out of nowhere?
Someone you trust, uh?” he spat.

“That couldn’t happen. I learned occlumency to avoid those... discomforting situations,” he

drawled slowly. Draco glared at him.

“And I didn’t?” he challenged. “Yet you still did it!”

“You obviously don’t know occlumency. Whoever taught you did a poor job,” he replied
shortly.

“That is not the point! You had no rights to invade my privacy! To enter in my head and make
yourself at home! You knew I didn’t want you in there!” his voice raised slightly.

“You should have raised stronger shield in that case,” he deadpanned.

“Are you-”

“I wouldn’t have had to do that if you only answered our question”

“Did it not come to your mind that perhaps I had the right to keep secrets too?” he snapped.

“Not when I ask for answers”

“I didn’t owe them to you!”

“That’s precisely because of that behaviour that we ended up in that situation. I saw some
pretty disturbing things while I was in there, you know? Your mind is clearly at war”

“You brought that on yourself, literally no one asked you to look at what’s in my head! That
was private!”

“There’s no such thing as privacy where I am involved,” Snape stated.

“Oh really? I didn’t notice,” he glared at him.

“You’re running in circles,” Regulus said from afar. “Can we please move on from this and
get straight to the point?”

“Do you have any idea how that made me feel?” Draco asked to Snape as though Regulus
hadn’t talked. Regulus sighed.

“Apparently not,” Regulus answered to himself quietly.

“You were not raised to feel. You’re supposed to repress your emotions. That was taught to
you at a very young age and until recently you did that brilliantly,” Snape retorted.

“Well breaking news; I’m fucking human too!” he shouted, losing patience. Snape remained
unbothered and it drove Draco mad.

“Language, Draco,” he scolded him coolly.

Draco couldn’t believe his ears. He huffed in disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s all you decided to
hear after what I just told you!”

“The rest is just nonsense,” he deadpanned.

“Nonsense?” he echoed, his eyes wide. “How dare you say-”

“The point is–“ Snape spoke again before Draco could finish his sentence. “The point is that
whoever taught you occlumency failed and therefore you’re left unprotected and you could
be an easy target to anyone who would want to hurt you,” he finished.

“As if you cared anyway”

“It might surprise you but I do. And not just because I’m your godfather. Regulus and I were
personally asked to take care of you and we intend to make this top of our priorities. Hence
why we’re here today”

“And why are we here today?” he asked petulantly.

“Someone needs to teach you occlumency and it needs to be done properly. Your safety
depends on it”

“And I suppose you thought that someone should be you?” he narrowed his eyes.

“Obviously,” he replied sternly as if it wasn’t even questionable in first place.

“No. That is not going to happen,” he refused instantly.

“Draco, don’t be-”

“I won’t let you anywhere near my head ever again!” he snapped.

“But you need to learn and I don’t know who would be better at teaching you than myself,”
he shot back, a small hint of irritation in the voice. Draco would’ve smirked if only he wasn’t
so mad. That was not much but it was a reaction. He finally drew one out of his godfather.

“Regulus can teach me,” he said without even thinking, leaving politeness and social
conventions aside as he mentioned his professor he stubbornly refused to call by his name
until now.

“Me?” Regulus said, startled.

“Yes, you,” Draco replied with determination.

“Don’t be silly,” Snape spat. “Regulus can’t teach you! I taught him!”

“Exactly so he knows as much as you do! Besides, he fooled the Dark Lord didn’t he?” he
arched an eyebrow, challenging.

Snape’s features distorted in shock as he opened his mouth and closed it a few times.

That’s it! Feel it! Draco thought bitterly. Feel how much I hate you right now to the point I’d
rather entrust a stranger with this task rather than you, whom I’ve known my whole life. Feel
it!

“I won’t let Regulus teach you!” he snarled.

If Draco didn’t know better, he’d think his godfather was feeling jealous and a bit possessive
too.

“Why not? You said I needed to learn, right? It doesn’t matter who teach me as long as I do,
right?” he smirked, he crossed his arms on his chest again but this time it was more casual,
his arms almost loosely crossed rather than that vicious grip he had earlier.

“Considering the last one who tried miserably failed, I believe it does matter!”

“Oh so you’re questioning Regulus’ skills? Do you think he’s not competent enough to teach
me?” he cocked his head and he could tell his godfather was literally fulminating.

“I never said such thing!” he spat.

“So what’s the matter? I said I wanted Regulus to teach me and so be it. Otherwise, I refuse
to learn”

“That is not up to you!”

“I believe it is, in fact, up to me,” he lifted his chin haughtily in a way he hadn’t done in
weeks and it felt so good. It felt like he was being himself more than he had been the past few
months. Like that argument with Snape had unburied something he thought had died the
night he’d been bitten.

“Severus, it’s okay. I’ll teach him. You know first-hand how good I am at this,” Regulus said
calmly.
“That’s not the issue!” Snape snapped.

“What is it, then?” Regulus asked, his voice still calm.

“This is an important task we don’t have the luxury to fail”

“Oh, so you do question my skills,” Regulus arched an eyebrow, his steely eyes darkened
slowly.

“Don’t be stupid! This isn’t it!”

“You taught me years ago how to do it and now you think I won’t be able to teach him? I can
do it, you know”

“I taught you because you’d been stupid enough to let Potter kiss you! This is a whole
different matter! Draco has no secrets like that to hide!” He hissed, his nose wrinkled in
disgust as he probably thought about that kiss he just mentioned.

You don’t know what I have to hide! Draco wanted to scream but he thought better and so he
remained silent as he looked at the men fighting.

“I don’t think this is so different from my situation. In both cases it had and has to be done to
prevent the danger our situations would put us in,” he snapped. Severus opened his mouth
again but Regulus lifted his hand in the air to stop him. “Don’t deny it. You know how cruel
my mother was. Now, I’d really appreciate it if you could stop acting as though I didn’t know
what I am doing, because I do”

Snape pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes travelled from Regulus to Draco a few times.
“Fine,” he spat before he stormed out of the room. Regulus sighed as he watched him leave.

“He can be so stubborn sometimes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m aware, thanks,” Draco replied flatly. Regulus’ lips twitched slightly.

“So? When do we start?” Regulus asked.

“Er.. On Friday, maybe?” he suggested.

“Sounds perfect to me,” he nodded.

They parted ways after that and Draco returned to his dorm where his friends were certainly
waiting from him. As soon as he pushed the door of his dorm, his ears swam in the sounds of
music, chatters and laughters. He noticed León was sitting on the rug, one leg up to his chest
while the other was carelessly folded under the other one while he rolled something Draco
recognised to be the same kind of cigarettes he’d smoked with Blaise over the summer. Now
he thought about it, it probably wasn’t cigarettes. Or perhaps were they extremely different
from the ones he smoked with Remus and Sirius.

Blaise was laughing with Theo about something Draco didn’t catch and Vince and Greg were
leaning against the bedpost of Blaise’s bed. Draco smiled at the sight. Merlin, he missed
doing things like these with his friends. He moved forward and went to sit by Blaise’s side
who cheered as he saw him coming in.

“Here you are! We thought Snape had killed you or something!” Blaise grinned.

“Oh yeah, it does look like you were worried,” he smirked as he gestured to the dorm.

“We were just trying to pass the time,” Blaise threw one arm around his shoulder and pulled
him to his chest for a quick embrace before he let go of him. Draco chuckled.

“Right,” he said.

“León told us it was a bit electric with Snape in the corridor. Everything’s alright?” Vince
asked.

“Yeah don’t worry, just the usual,” he waved his hand dismissively.

“Not that we would know what the usual is these days,” Theo muttered under his breath.
Draco shot him a glare.

“Theo,” Blaise said, a warning in his voice.

“I’m just saying is all,” he shrugged.

“Is there something you’d like to say, maybe?” Draco asked fiercely.

“Actually, yes,” Theo said through gritted teeth.

“Theo, stop,” Blaise said again. “Not tonight. Tonight we enjoy ourselves. You’ll bite each
other’s heads off another day”

Theo nodded curtly and Draco frowned slightly. He wasn’t even aware there was an issue in
first place, he thought everything was fine with Theo and he definitely did not expect an
attack coming from him. They’d have to talk about it later.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” León grinned as he handed the spliff he rolled to the centre
of the weird circle they formed on the rug.

“Nott definitely needs a bit of that,” Blaise said as he gave it to Theo. “You need to chill out
mate”

Theo rolled his eyes but he still took a long drag before he passed it to the other boys. A few
hours later, they were all very high and extremely relaxed. They were laughing and chatting
happily, babbling about whatever things crossed their mind. They had a debate about planes
after León explained he took one to come to England. They were all purebloods kids who had
never even put a foot in one before so of course it triggered their wild imagination when León
mentioned those iron birds flying high in the sky. Especially because they were high as a kite.

Eventually, Draco’s head ended on Blaise’s laps and Blaise stroked his hair gently. He felt so
good that day and the spliff he smoked – well, the spliffs would be more accurate because
León rolled many others after the first one, Draco lost track after the third one – made him
feel so calm and comfortable that he yawned a few times. With Blaise’s hand caressing his
hair slowly, Draco didn’t stand a chance. He fell asleep before he even realised, exhaustion
catching up on him after he delayed the inevitable for days. At least he was at peace,
dreaming of nice things such as green forest and jet black sky filled with stars and lightnings.

Dreaming of Harry, really.

 Help!
Chapter Notes

CW vomit
CW eating disorder
CW addiction
Mention of past addiction, too

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Saturday 26th of October 1996.

Draco was sitting on his bed, his curtains opened while he listened to his friends chatting
happily together about their plans for the break. Blaise would go to Italy, in Turin, to pay a
visit to an estranged aunt. Theo would stay in England and spend a week at the ministry with
his father and León would go back to France to his home town. Vince and Greg didn’t share
their plans because they were too busy laughing about something only them knew but Draco
suspected they’d be off to the countryside like every year.

Draco, on his part, remained silent. His plans were nothing like theirs. He had no reason to
look forward the break, no reasons to be happy and nothing to celebrate. His lips were
pressed together in a thin line as he listened to them. He wished he could have a life like
theirs. It seemed so easy, so enviable. His head was bowed as he was reading a book while
eating the sweets his mother sent. He had no idea how she knew it was his favourite because
he wasn’t even supposed to eat sugar in first place but he was glad she sent them. It was kind
of comforting in the torment of his emotions.

The full moon was coming soon – literally tonight – and Draco was feeling like shit. He’d
been sick all night, he barely had any rest and he hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever. He
couldn’t even remember the last time he ate because he didn’t go to the Great Hall these days,
everyone was too busy making fun of him or talking about his father’s escape. They called
him ‘death eater scum’ and he felt ashamed and hurt. He didn’t have the luxury to dwell on
himself so he just avoided any interactions susceptible to hurt his feelings. Anyway, even
before he began to stop going to the Great Hall altogether, he didn’t eat much and he skipped
meals more often than not. Eating was becoming a real struggle as time went by.

Around him, Theo, Blaise and León were packing their stuff at the last minute – just like he
expected them too. Vince and Greg probably left to their dorms at some point because they
were nowhere to be seen. Draco’s trunk was already packed in the diligence which would
take them back to Hogsmeade where they’d take the train to King’s Cross. Draco chewed on
his sweets lazily as he turned another page. He wasn’t even listening to them anymore, utterly
lost in his thoughts. He had read the same page for the past ten minutes but he didn’t mind.
He wasn’t really there, utterly lost in the contemplation of his break.
His stomach chunked at the thought of going back to the manor, even if it was just for two
weeks. He wished he could stay at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to go back, he didn’t want to
face the Dark Lord again or his army of baby death eaters soiling the privacy of his home.
Besides, he couldn’t be sure but he could easily guess that his father would be there too and
he dreaded the moment he’d see him again. He hadn’t answered any of his letters, after all.
Slowly, Draco realised the comfort of the bubble he created here at Hogwarts would soon pop
again and it scared him shitless. He lifted his gaze from his book and he looked at his friends
shoving each others and laughing as they fought playfully and threw things to each other’s
faces.

Draco gulped. None of that was real.

It was just a comforting sight he enjoyed looking at but behind all the laughters, all the
teasing and all the friendships was hidden a colossal monster: the war. And unfortunately for
Draco, it was the only thing that was real and that mattered, the only thing he could see even
through the haze of his comfortable position, here at Hogwarts. When the laughters died and
the people left, when Draco was all alone, the task was at the forefront of his mind. It was all
that remained at all times. That was real.

Draco swallowed again as he tried not to throw up again and he bowed his head lower to hide
his glistening eyes. Thinking about the war and the task he had to complete made him sick.
No matter how much he progressed, the dreadful feeling lingered and Draco knew it was
because the success of the task was not what he wanted but he had no choice, did he? His
ambitions never mattered to anyone.

He shuddered suddenly at the thought brought back by the idea of going back to the manor.
Going home meant he’d have to practice unforgivables with Bellatrix again. He could cast
the Imperius curse easily now, probably because it was the least horrible of the three curses in
his opinion and so he had no difficulty to cast it but now he knew this one, he’d have to learn
the others and it wouldn’t be as easy because Draco didn’t want to cause any harm to anyone.
His blood ran cold in his veins as he remembered the screams of people being tortured in the
manor back in the summer. He felt the bile coming up from his stomach and he had to
swallow not to vomit – that would have been the third time since he woke up and his friends
were already worried enough as it was. As far as they knew, he was just a bit sick this
morning.

He tried to think of a way to escape the lessons with Bellatrix but he knew there was no way
she wouldn’t teach him. Of course, the Dark Lord may give her another mission which would
take her away from the manor for a little while but then again there were enough death eaters
living within the walls of his house to replace her with any of them and then it would
probably be worse to learn with them rather than his aunt.

He inhaled deeply through the nose and exhaled slowly through the mouth, trying hard to
keep his breathing even. He shouldn’t worry too much about it just yet. In a few hours, he’d
be in a train to go back to King’s Cross where Sirius or Remus or maybe even James would
pick him up and then they’ll go to Savernake Forest where he’d spend the full moon just like
he did the past few months. He tried not to think about anything else as he kept breathing
slowly to calm the frenetic beat of his heart.
His eyes were closed and his back was straightened, making him look taller. He finally
managed to calm down before anxiety could spread and corrupt literally every cells of his
body like it had the nasty habit to do so. Suddenly, whereas he was still focused on his
breathing, he felt something tugging behind his navel and his senses were on high alert.
Draco didn’t worry, it was just his instinct warning him about something but he could tell it
wasn’t anything close to imminent danger and so he wasn’t worried. He didn’t even open his
eyes that he was proved right. He was almost hit by a flying pillow which he caught without
a second thought, his body reacting before he could even comprehend what was happening.
His eyes snapped open and he glared at Blaise who rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” he said with a smile. “That one was for León”

“Nice catch,” Theo complimented with a smirk.

“I’m a seeker,” he reminded him coolly before he threw the pillow right to León’s face who
gasped, offended.

“Oi! What was that for?” León asked.

“That was meant for you, remember?” Draco smirked. “You should finish packing now or
you will be late,” he suggested before he stood up, leaving his book on his bed. He instantly
regretted moving too fast. His head spun violently and he almost fell back on the bed. He
barely caught himself on the bedpost, Blaise appearing by his side within a second as he held
his arm in support.

“You okay?” Blaise asked.

Draco could feel León and Theo’s eyes on him as he put a hand to his head and closed his
eyes in pain. He had a very bad migraine ever since he woke up but he supposed it was
nothing unusual for a full moon day. Not that his friends would know, of course.

“M’fine,” he mumbled.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should go to the hospital wing,” León suggested kindly.

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped before he shrugged Blaise’s hand off his arm and walked to the
bathroom. He didn’t want to be a dick but he was on the edge and he was having a hard time
not to let his anger explode today. The full moon was a real bitch.

“We’re just trying to help, mate,” Theo said as he followed him. “At least drink a potion or
something to help with the pain”

“No,” he replied stubbornly before he slammed the door behind him. His friends glanced at
each others but they didn’t insist after that.

Draco walked to the mirror and washed his face with cold water to cool off before he looked
at himself. The man he saw in he mirror was not one he recognised but it became common
occurrence lately. He was whiter than a ghost, the bags under his eyes were all dark and
carved and he noticed he lost more weight over the past week. His cheeks were hollow and
dull and the beauty of his prominent cheekbones which brought so much beauty to his face
looked sharper than usual in a very concerning way. His eyes looked like they were popping
out of his skull in a monstrous way. He looked like a dead man. He sighed and rubbed his
face. “Fuck…”

The beauty of his features, when well-balanced, was almost supernatural but now, with such
important loss weight, the exhaustion, the hunger and the full moon, he scared himself and he
hated his appearance. The worst was that the rumour he was a Veela came back full force in
the corridors. Students began to whisper about it again, saying it was now his real face hidden
behind all the glamour. They thought of him as a monster and Draco couldn’t even blame
them because he shared that thought wholeheartedly.

“It’s the monster within that’s finally showing, I suppose,” he whispered as he looked at
himself in details, angling his head to look at his face from every corners. He felt nauseous.

He sat on the floor and brought his knees to his chest to hide himself. He didn’t dare to look
at his body in weeks and today would be no exception. He was afraid of what he’d see if he
tried to shot a look at the mirror anywhere lower than his neck. He had never felt self-
conscious, not really but it was hard not to be these days. When he circled his arms around
himself, he felt the outlines of his ribs, sharp and hard under his fingertips and he couldn’t
help but think his spine was probably equally visible.

He knew he used to be handsome and girls would line up to have lunch with him every once
in a while, using their charms as they tried to win a date with him at Hogsmeade. None of
them ever got one but he supposed it wasn’t what mattered. No, what did, thought, was that
he had never been built like the beaters of his Quidditch team but his lean silhouette used to
hide enough muscles to seduce girls. His abs used to be well-defined, his thighs strong but
thin and his biceps were proportionally muscled, strong enough to inspire desire and
protection without clashing with the rest of his body. He used to look almost divine. Now…
He knew he wouldn’t see any of those things if he tried to look at himself. His beauty fade
away along with every kilos he lost and the unhealthy habits he picked up.

He felt like crying. He barely had the time to bury his head between his arms that he was
already crying, hot tears streaming down his face. He felt disgusted with himself.

The door opened slowly behind him and Blaise entered. “Draco?” he asked softly but Draco
shook his head in lieu of answering aloud and kept his head buried in his arms, ashamed. He
knew he was being sensitive – more than usual – because of the moon but he didn’t want
Blaise to witness another mental breakdown. Thankfully, Blaise didn’t say a word but he sat
down next to him and he wrapped his arms around him, his head resting on Draco’s bony
shoulder as he sobbed softly.

Blaise held him until he felt better and once he stopped crying, he felt his best friend’s fingers
drying his tears and fixing his hair gently. Draco was grateful for his friend but he didn’t say
it aloud, he felt too vulnerable as it was already. Blaise didn’t seem to expect any ‘thank you’,
anyway.

“The boys left the dorm a few minutes ago. We’re about to leave,” Blaise whispered.
“Okay,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “Thanks for telling me”

“It’s alright. Are you okay?”

“I feel sick,” he admitted.

“Because of the full moon? It’s tonight, right?” he asked as he caressed his hair gently.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Are you scared?”

“No, Remus will be there. I’ll be fine”

Blaise nodded slowly while Draco released a shaky breath. “I’m glad he’s here for you. I’m
glad you’re not alone,” he said as he squeezed his shoulder nicely.

“Me too”

A pause.

“Do you think I’m monstrous?” Draco asked, his voice small and scared.

Blaise frowned. “Because you’re a werewolf?” he asked. “I told you, I don’t care about that.
You’re my best friend first”

Draco chuckled wetly before he sat up. “That’s not what I meant but the reminder is
appreciated”

“What did you mean then?”

“I mean.. Physically?” he bit his lip.

“Is this because of what people say?” he asked, displeased.

“They’re right, aren’t they? I do look like a monster,” he said with a small voice.

“That’s not true. Draco..” he sighed. “Life hasn’t been nice to you recently. You’re going
through a lot and your body is reflecting that but you’re certainly not a monster. Never a
monster”

“Sure,” he snorted.

“I mean it”

“Be real for a second. Nobody would touch someone like me,” he said as he gestured to
himself.

“I’m touching you right now,” he emphasised his answer with a gentle squeeze of his
shoulder.
“You know what I mean. No one would fuck me when I look like.. that,” he said, his voice
hoarse and sad.

Blaise smirked. “You could have just asked if that’s what it is about”

“Shut up,” he let out a startled laugh as he shoved him playfully. “I just mean.. No one in
their right mind”

“That’s not true. Willow and you have been-”

“Not for a while,” he said.

“Well, other girls would”

“And… Well…” he released a shaky breath. “You’re gay, right?” he asked as he looked at
Blaise before he bowed his head again.

“Well spotted,” he smirked. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Would you fuck someone like me? Someone who looks like this?” he asked.

“You know I would. If they are as beautiful as you are,” he gave him a flirty wink.

“Oh fuck you,” he genuinely laughed.

“Please,” he replied, a flirtatious smile on his lips.

“You know what I meant,” he laughed.

“You’re the one who asked!” he defended himself with a laugh.

“I didn’t expect that answer”

“No, I know you didn’t. You probably thought I would’ve said no but I wouldn’t!” he
chuckled before he grasped Draco’s chin between his fingers to force their eyes to meet.
“You’re bloody attractive you know,” he said very seriously. Their faces were really close to
each others as Blaise’s thumbs caressed his cheeks to dry another fit of tears.

Draco’s smile faded slowly as he looked at him intensely. Blaise was so caring, so gentle with
him. He had always been of course but now it felt different because he knew every parts of
Draco, even those he was ashamed of and Blaise was still here taking care of him. Draco felt
so loved whenever he was around. He brought him so much comfort. He was his best friend
and Draco was such a mess he didn’t want anyone else but him to comfort him. His eyes
darted from Blaise’s eyes to his lips for a second and he wondered for a tiny minuscule
moment how it’d feel to kiss another boy. He’d wondered a lot after his self-discovery and he
was a bit curious. Strangely enough, it didn’t disgust him as much as he thought it would. At
least, not as much as it did back in the Summer.

Then he wondered how it’d feel to kiss Blaise, altogether, because no one loved him like
Blaise did and he just wanted to be loved. Oh yes, he craved love like a starved man. And
Blaise was right here, feeding him with all his love and his careful touch. He was so gentle,
so kind and he made him feel so protected, so unique and so normal at the same time. It was
the best combination. His stomach did a weird flip with adrenaline and before he could think
about it more intendedly, he leaned on and kissed him softly. It was barely a brush of the lips
but it was enough to snap him out of his trance and he pulled away as fast as he leaned on, his
eyes wide. Blaise looked at him, confused, as he tried to process what had just happened and
Draco stumbled backwards before he used the wall to stand up.

“I’m.. I– S– Sorry. I– I don’t know why I’ve done that. That was stupid,” he said quickly as
he rubbed his eyebrow nervously.

“I didn’t expect that, really. But okay,” Blaise said before he cleared his voice.

“Fuck I’m sorry”

“It’s okay,” he gave him a smile.

“I really don’t know why I’ve done that,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not– I’m not
interested, you know? I mean, I like you but I don’t like like you”

“Ouch, give a man a warning before you break his heart,” he said as he put a hand on his
chest as though he was wounded. Draco rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean!”

“It’s okay Draco, really. Besides, I think I know why you’ve done that,” he replied with a
half-shrug.

“Why?” he asked, his heart beat faster.

“Obviously you needed to feel wanted and I literally said a second before you kissed me that
you were bloody attractive”

Draco swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s okay, don’t make it a big deal okay? I kissed girls longer than that,” he laughed. “It was
barely a peck”

“Still, I shouldn’t have done that”

“Mate, it’s okay,” he said with a smile as he patted his shoulder.

“Blaise– I.. Well…” he swallowed.

“If you apologise again I’ll shave your eyebrows in your sleep. Seriously, you know I will,”
he gave him a stern look though he smiled so it ruined the effect.

“No I wasn’t going to apologise, I just– well… There’s something I need to tell you. No,
wait. I don’t need to tell you, but I want to”
“Alright?”

“I– I.. I think I’m gay,” he blurted out before his gaze dropped to his shoes.

“Okay…” he said slowly, his eyes narrowed as he tried to understand where Draco was going
with that.

“I know it sounds weird after all the things I said but.. Well.. León is a Veela and his powers
work on me and when I realised what it meant I also realised that he wasn’t the first bloke I
fancied before,” he tried to explain but it felt like it all came out wrong.

“Is this you confessing your love for me?” he teased though he was a bit worried it was what
was happening.

Draco gave him a stern look. “You’re a bloody moron, you know that?”

Blaise laughed. “You’re not the first to tell me”

“I wonder why,” he said dryly and Blaise laughed harder before he sobered up.

“No but seriously, are you saying you’re in love with me?” he asked seriously.

“No!” he exclaimed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Blaise chuckled. “Oh, thank fuck! You scared the shit out of me for a second!”

“Would that be so terrible?” he arched an eyebrow.

“You’re my best friend and I don’t want things to be weird between us”

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” he replied flatly. “What is it? You couldn’t handle it
if I were in love with you?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he shrugged.

“How kind of you,” he rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re lucky I’m not then”

“Wait, you’re gay?! But you and Willow have been– Oh…!” his eyes widened suddenly as he
seemed to understand something Draco didn’t.

“What?” he asked confused.

“Willow? Really, mate. You don’t see it?” he asked before he burst in laughter. “I never put
two and two together because I was convinced you were straighter than my mother’s hair but
now.. Wow,” he put his hands on his temples as though he was mind-blown and he laughed.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier, oh it’s so funny!”

“What?” he asked impatiently. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, it’s freaking obvious isn’t it?”

“What’s so obvious?” he asked, irritated.

“She looks like Potter! Like a lot! They could be fucking siblings for all I know!” he laughed
in earnest.

Draco blanched and he froze suddenly as he connected the dots in his head. Their eye colour
was similar, though Potter’s was more intense. Their skin colour was similar too and so was
that nest they called ‘hair’. Their laughs were melodious and they were almost the same
height. Both of them had a dimple on their chins and Willow wore glasses to read which
Draco had always found particularly sexy. Besides, they did look like siblings. He swallowed
but his mouth was dry.

“It explains so much! I always said you were obsessed with Potter but you’re literally in love
with him!” Blaise chuckled.

“It’s not funny! And I’m not in love with him!”

“You must admit it’s kind of weird the only girl you fuck looks like him, though. Right?” he
laughed.

“Stop laughing!”

“I can’t, it’s too funny!” Draco grabbed his wand and cast a stinging hex right to Blaise’s arm
that wasn’t covered with his sleeve. “Oi! It hurts!” he complained as he rubbed his arm.

“I told you to stop laughing”

“Too right you did,” he chuckled but eventually he managed to calm down. “I can’t believe
you’re in love with your arch nemesis”

“I’m not in love with him,” he kept denying with an eye-roll.

“Really mate? After what we just said you keep denying the obvious?”

“No. I don’t deny I’m attracted to him. I deny I love him. Because I don’t,” he said slowly as
if he were explaining this to a three years-old.

“How long have you known?” Blaise asked. “That you’re gay, I mean”

“Not so long,” he cleared his voice. “I’m still processing”

“So I was your first kiss?” he smirked.

“I kissed girls before,” he deadpanned.

“Alright, scratch that. I was your first gay kiss,” he smirked as he waggled his eyebrows.
Draco gave him an unimpressed look.

“Shut up. There’s nothing to brag about”

“Oh but I think it’s not true,” he grinned. “I took your virginity! Your gay virginity kiss!”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “There’s no such thing”

“No I think I’m right,” he laughed.

“That wasn’t even a good kiss, you’re a lame kisser,” he said just to piss him off.

“That’s because you barely let our lips touch, you wanker! I didn’t even get to kiss you back”

“Still, it wasn’t even worth it. I’d give it a poor mark. Like maybe a Troll or something,” he
said haughtily.

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Next time we’re drunk and you look for somebody to kiss, come to me
and I’ll show you what I can do!”

Draco didn’t get drunk so often but he had the nasty habits of kissing whoever came too close
when he was drunk so maybe Blaise wasn’t wrong about that but still, Draco wouldn’t give
him the satisfaction.

“As if,” he rolled his eyes and they exited the bathroom. “Now come on or they’re going to
leave without us”

“Don’t forget your potion for tonight,” he said as they walked in the dorm.

“Don’t worry, it’s in my trunk,” he smiled.

“Alright baby wolf, let’s go,” he said as he threw his arm around his shoulder and they
walked out the dorm.

“Call me that again and you won’t be awake for Halloween,” he threatened darkly while
Blaise let out a throaty laugh.

“Sorry, I forgot you preferred being called ferret face,” he smiled mischievously. Draco
gasped.

“Oh you’re so dead Zabini!”

“Not if you can’t catch me!” he laughed before he took off at full speed. It took less than a
second before Draco ran after him. Their laughters echoed in the corridor.

The trip back to London was quickly over and a lot of students were now wandering on the
platforms, looking for their relatives. Draco had no one to look for, not this time. Or well,
maybe he had someone to look for but Sirius, Remus or James wouldn’t be standing there on
the platform so he followed the path leading to the exit and he searched for one of them on
the parking. He stopped next to the entrance to analyse the zone, looking for a familiar face in
the crowd. James was leaning against his car and Draco narrowed his eyes, unsure whether he
was waiting for him or not but a few seconds later, Potter walked passed him and joined his
father so it was obvious James wouldn’t be driving him back to the forest tonight.
Draco’s chest tightened when he saw James hugging lovingly Harry and kissing his head. His
gaze lingered longer on them as he watched them joking around and laughing about
something Potter said. He was debiting so fast Draco wondered how James could catch any
word. They looked so comfortable together, they obviously were very close. Draco ached for
a relationship father/son like theirs but once again, Potter had everything he hadn’t. It
reminded Draco why he hated him so much. He felt bitter now and so he decided to look
away.

Draco sighed. So, not James then. Fine, someone else was probably waiting for him,
somewhere. He didn’t discourage himself and he began to scan the crowd again. The parking
was getting empty, the cars left one by one and Draco had more visibility but he was getting
worried because Sirius and Remus were nowhere to be seen. He decided he’d wait a moment
longer outside, maybe someone would come eventually. He looked stupid standing there with
his trunk.

“Draco?” he heard Remus’ voice calling him from behind. He spun on his heels and couldn’t
help but smile when he saw him approaching.

“Remus,” he greeted with a nod.

It was quite cold, he realised. After all the time he spent with him, after the hug they shared
and the secrets they kept for one another, a greeting so formal felt wrong but Draco couldn’t
help but keep a certain distance with Remus. He knew, deep down, that it was because he still
struggled with all the prejudices he was taught about Half-blood wizards but he hated that it
was a barrier to a proper friendship. He wasn’t acting so weirdly with León, though. So
maybe it was something else?

It’s probably because you fantasise about him and you don’t about Remus, his brain supplied.
Draco flushed a deep red at the thought. He cleared his voice and pretended to cough to hide
his embarrassment.

“I was looking for you inside but then I realised you were probably waiting outside since
Sirius comes with his bike,” Remus smiled warmly. “Let’s go back to the platform, yeah?”

Draco nodded and tightened his grip around the handle of his trunk to carry it. Once they
walked through the passage towards the wizarding side of the platform, Remus led them to
the closest apparition point, then he stopped.

“Alright, can I?” he asked as he gestured to Draco’s trunk.

“Yes,” he agreed as he put it down. Remus took his wand out and flicked his wrist easily.
Draco watched the trunk becoming smaller and smaller until it could fit in the palm of his
hand. Draco knelt down and he picked up from the floor before he straightened graciously.

“Can we apparate or are you too sick?” Remus asked as he eyed him cautiously.

Of course he’d notice how awful he looked. It was hard to miss, after all.
“It should be fine,” he said. “And if not, well.. There’s nothing a quick scourgify can’t fix,”
he said.

Remus nodded but didn’t seem very convinced. He handed out his arm and waited until
Draco grabbed it. Draco felt the unpleasant sensation of a hook pulling him behind his navel
and he landed right in the middle of the shack. Despite he landed on his feet, Draco bent
down and emptied the content of his stomach on the floor within a second. Remus winced but
he cleaned the mess quickly meanwhile Sirius came downstairs to greet them. Draco wiped
his mouth on his sleeve and he swallowed harshly as he tried not to throw up again.

“Hey! I’m so glad you could make it,” Sirius grinned as he approached him and slapped his
back enthusiastically. Draco almost puked again. Sirius then moved to Remus to kiss him
softly on the cheek. “I cooked the meal already, so you don’t have to worry about it,” he said
softly.

“Thank you, love. I appreciate that,” Remus smiled before he turned to Draco. “Do you need
a potion? To keep everything down, you know?” he asked kindly.

“No, I’m good”

“You do look like you are,” Sirius replied sarcastically. Draco ignored him and walked to the
couch where he put his tiny trunk on the coffee table before he sank on the couch and
exhaled. The migraine he had since he woke up was still splitting his skull in two. He felt like
shit.

Sirius and Remus joined him around the table. Remus choose the armchair on the left and
Sirius sat on the armrest, lazily rocking his leg as he did. No one talked for a second but they
stared at each other and he noticed they had a weird look on their faces. Draco sighed.

“What is it? Am I in trouble?” he asked, annoyed.

“No, of course not,” Remus said.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” he asked as he eyed them in turns. They
exchanged a look but they didn’t speak and Draco felt himself getting irritated again.
“What?” he said sharply. “Can one of you just spill it already?”

“We’re worried about you,” Remus said.

“Worried?” he narrowed his eyes. “What is this about?”

“You look..” Remus began but he obviously didn’t know how to finish this sentence.

“You look sick,” Sirius supplied.

“Sick?” he huffed before he stood up, his nerves forcing him to move as he couldn’t stay still.
“I don’t know if you noticed but there’s a bloody full moon tonight!”

“We’re well aware,” Sirius snapped. “But that’s not because of the full moon that you look
like that,” he gave him a stern look.
Draco swallowed and clenched his jaw. “Of course it is-”

“Regulus told me something really interesting,” Sirius cut as he gave him another one of his
look. Draco hated when he did that, when he looked at him as though he knew something, as
though he could see right through him. Regulus always had that look on his face but Sirius
only had it when he was positive he was right and that couldn’t be good.

Speaking of Regulus, they didn’t have the time to have their first occlumency session in the
evening because there was a meeting with the Aurors and so their session would not happen
until January. Draco was grateful, he didn’t have the energy to keep anyone out of his head in
his current state. Well, maybe that was not a good news in the end. He’d be fucked if
someone tried to get into his head back at the manor. He winced a bit at the thought but he
schooled his expression in a snarl.

“Oh, and what did he say?” he asked, lifting his chin higher in defence.

“He said somebody’s been stealing in his storeroom,” Sirius said as he crossed his arms on
his chest and arched an accusing eyebrow.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” he denied, his face blank but his eyes guilty.

Sirius smirked slightly before he stood up too. “I don’t know if you’re aware but a prolonged
used of invigoration draught can have nasty effects on you. Very nasty effects,” he said as he
took a step closer.

Draco’s heartbeat quickened slightly as his hand twitched, eager to grab his wand like he
always did when he felt cornered.

“Your body is exhausted but it cannot comprehend why, it doesn’t process the information
because the potion makes it think it rested so you don’t go to bed. That is already bad but it
doesn’t end there. It causes unhealthy loss weight too, your brain struggle to function and so
do your organs, especially the vital ones. Your complexion blanches and your mouth gets too
sloppy to speak properly or to cast spells eventually,” Sirius continued as he kept
approaching. “Your pupils are always blown wide because you’re constantly high on potions
and your hands shake continuously,” he said as he grabbed Draco’s wrist and lifted his hand
to eyesight. It was indeed shaking.

“I didn’t eat today,” Draco said as an explanation.

“You and I both know that’s not why you’re shaking,” Sirius cocked his head slightly.

“You’ve got a problem, Draco,” Remus said softly behind as he stood up as well.

Draco bit the inside of his bottom lip as his eyes welled up and he snatched his wrist out of
Sirius’ grip before he took a step back. “I’m okay”

“Obviously, you’re not,” Sirius said as he walked back to the armchair and sat on it again.

“You don’t understand,” Draco said as his voice cracked.

“Try me,” Sirius said, his eyes bored holes behind Draco’s skull as he turned around to hide
the tears forming in his eyes.

Draco wanted to tell them. He wanted to speak up and say the things that were eating him
alive but his mouth felt dry and he wanted to cry so bad. He didn’t know how to form a
coherent thought, he didn’t know how to speak his mind and explain what he was going
through. He didn’t know how to ask for help though it was exactly what he needed and
wanted the most. He grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze to make it stop shaking but he
couldn’t find a way to make it stop. He exhaled a shaky breath and he tried not to breakdown
again for the second time of the day but it was hard. His emotions were a mess, his head was
fuzzy and his heart was pounding in his chest. Before he could stop it, his shoulders began to
shake and a broken sob escaped him.

He was wrecked and exhausted.

He took a deep breath and he tried his best to keep his sobs under control so he wouldn’t
burst in tears. He exhaled sharply and rubbed his face to make the tears disappear before they
could fall. He felt a hand on his shoulder but it didn’t remain there. Carefully, it slid to his
back and began to rub in circles, gently.

“It’s okay,” Sirius whispered. “I’ve been there too. I know,” he said as he kept rubbing. Draco
wanted to ask what he was talking about but he felt too fragile to speak. He turned around at
lightning speed and threw his arms around Sirius before he buried his face in the crook of his
neck and let the tears falling down his face, for the second time of the day. He stayed here,
his ears and face hot as he sniffled silently while he let Sirius comforting him. The position
was a bit awkward because he was taller than Sirius but it felt nice anyway. He hiccuped
softly and it took a few more minutes before he calmed down. When he managed to, he
pulled away, wiping the salty tears off his face with his sleeve.

“I need help,” he said aloud, his voice broke on the last word. “And not just for that,” he said
as he gave them a meaningful look.

“What is it?” Remus asked.

Draco braced himself and closed his eyes. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to
say the words he dreaded the most? To people he trusted, maybe wrongly? Yes.

Yes, he’d say it.

He opened his eyes and looked at them, his face distorted in pain as though the word hurt him
badly already but his eyes were determined. For the first time of his life, Draco decided to put
himself first. He decided he couldn’t keep going like that indefinitely and he needed to ask
for help to people who could actually support him properly. Consequences be damned. He
would probably not survive the war anyway, especially not if what Sirius said was true.

“I’m supposed to let the death eaters come into Hogwarts and I'm sure the Dark Lord wants
me to take the mark on Christmas. He didn't say it but I can feel it. Please, help me. I don’t
want to do that,” he said weakly.
 Sirius and Remus looked at each other, their expression grave.

“We thought you’d never ask. Of course we’re going to help you!” Remus said, his face
fierce but his voice gentle.

Relief washed over Draco. Maybe the nightmare would end soon, now they knew.

“Where do we begin?” he asked, eager to make it better for himself.

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone, I've been sick all week so I wasn't even sure I'd post a chapter at all this
week but it was half finished already, I just had to double check and I really wanted to
post it because damn?? Draco is doing it!! He's putting himself first!! I am proud!

For those of you who read both Outsider and Downfall, there will be no chapter Sunday
for the same reasons I previously mentioned.

🫶🏼
I hope you enjoyed the chapter though! Things are slowly going to get better for Draco,
I can't wait for you all to see his character development

See you next week (on Thursday, as always) 🥰 Take care of yourself!
 The Plan
Chapter Notes

CW Smoking cigarettes (should I keep precise it? I mean they smoke all the time I'm a
bit worried for their lungs really)

Outsider is over 200,000 words! I can't believe it!

This chapter is a bit longer than the other I wrote thus far but I hope you won't mind
because it is an extremely important one. A lot happens and there are a few information
given which will be very important later.

I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!

Sunday 27th of October 1996.

“Where do we begin?” Draco had asked.

It turned out the answer was quite simple to supply but it wasn’t one he had expected when
he had asked the question. He’d thought maybe they’d plan something, or work on
something… Anything, really, to get him out of his shitty situation but it was not the answer
he got.

Instead, Remus answered in the most mundane way as though Draco hadn’t literally spilled
his guts to the men – as much as it was humanly possible for him, at least. He couldn’t
believe his ears.

“Go to sleep,” was the answer Remus gave him.

Apparently, Remus doubted he could handle a full moon in his state because of how
exhausted he’d been the past few weeks. Draco tried to disagree, of course he did, but Remus
was right and he wasn’t stupid enough to pretend like he wasn’t exhausted. He could barely
stand on his feet, for fuck’s sake. He hadn’t slept in the train back home, after all, and he was
obviously lacking sleep. The previous nights had been productive but definitely unhealthy.

And so Draco obeyed reluctantly.

Remus let him have the bed upstairs and he gave him a chocolate to help him relax and keep
his emotions under control before going to bed. As a result, he’d slept four hours straight
which was more than what he had in a week. Unfortunately, a terrible nightmare pushed the
sleep away and he awoke with a start, sweating and panting as he tried to compose himself
and a horrible migraine splitting his head in two – a foretaste of what he’d have to deal with a
few hours later.
He didn’t have nightmares so often – probably because he didn’t sleep long enough to even
dream at all – but sometimes, the memory of the fight he and Sirius had with the death eaters
came back haunting him in his sleep. Especially the part where he turned alone and then
came back to himself the next morning, lost, confused, hurt and his body covered in blood –
there was much more blood in his dream than it had been in reality, for some reasons. And of
course, he was still painfully alone in the deep ends of the forest – alright, maybe not the
deep ends but that was how it felt at the time.

It didn’t help at all to alleviate the sleep depravation situation, of course but thankfully it
remained strictly occasional and that wasn’t the main cause of his exhaustion anyway. He’d
have the time to deal with that later. One step at a time.

The full moon went alright after that. Draco managed to eat dinner with Sirius and Remus
and then they played a muggle card game, the same one they played while baking a few
months ago though Draco still didn’t understand what was happening half of the time. They
played until it was time to go out for the full moon. Sirius turned even before they were out.
Apparently he enjoyed being a dog. Draco couldn’t relate but that was probably because it
was a lot different for him when he was a wolf.

The morning after, Draco wasn’t confused or even hurt – except for a scratch on his forehead
because of a branch he hadn’t seen while running full speed but Remus healed it easily as
soon as they went back to the shack – and both Remus and Sirius were by his side. His
muscles were sore and he had a small headache but it was quickly fixed with a few spells and
a few potions. Then, Remus forced him to sleep again and they didn’t resurface until the
beginning of the afternoon.

Now, Draco was slowly awakening after his first complete night of sleep – he’d slept for
eight hours straight, snoring softly and drooling over the cushions of the couch. His eyes
fluttered open slowly as he took in the light coming through the window. The curtains were
useless, really, but Draco didn’t mind. Outside, the rain was falling hard over the forest,
hammering the foliages and the ground, filling the puddle a bit more each time and dripping
down the leaves of the trees like a newborn drinking milk for the first time. Draco sighed
contently.

For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel anxious. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his
shoulders now he shared his secret with Remus and Sirius. It felt like it would be easier to
carry on, now there were three of them to deal with whatever was coming for him. When he
inhaled deeply, Draco didn’t struggle to fill his lungs with air, it felt as easy as it was to any
other functional human being. It felt good, natural and for once, certain. It felt alright.

He thought he’d regret talking to them, he thought maybe he’d feel like shit for even trying to
seek for help and running away from his responsibilities but he knew now that it wasn’t what
he was doing. On the contrary, he was applying a fundamental principle taught when he was
barely six: self-preservation.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, Draco was killing himself slowly and even though a part
of him thought he deserved it, something inside disagreed and his survival instinct took over,
forcing him to spill his guts to the two men the night prior. He had no idea where it’d lead
him to or even if it was the right thing to do but for now, it felt like it was and Draco felt
relieved he dared to speak up.

Maybe not everybody didn’t care, in the end.

He stretched out his muscles and yawned before he sighed happily, resting his hands on his
belly. His fingers brushed his scars unconsciously as a smile spread on his lips. He was
thrilled by his own audacity. He still couldn’t believe he chose himself over the rest of his
family and the duty that fell on him. It seemed surreal. Draco knew he was being highly
selfish but if his mother failed to protect him all those years, then maybe it was because he
was supposed to protect himself and so talking to them had been the first step in that
direction.

Sirius came in sight when Draco finally sat up above the blanket, shifting his weight to swing
his legs over the side of the couch and finally planting his feet on the cold wood. The holes in
the walls produced a strident sound as the wind blew through them to hit the hot naked skin
of his ankles. He shivered. The thin shirt he was wearing didn’t do much to keep him warm
and sure, his skin was hotter than an average person, but Draco wasn’t insensible to cold.

“Hungry?” Sirius asked as he sat carelessly on the armchair, one leg was hanging over the
armrest while he leaned his back against the opposite one. He looked relaxed today, Draco
liked that.

“No, thanks,” he shook his head.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded before he shoved the fork in his mouth, wolfing down his
eggs like a starved man. Once he swallowed, he spoke again. “You may not be hungry but
your body is. You should have a fruit or something, at least,” he suggested kindly.

Draco gave him a look but didn’t answer right away. He knew he needed to eat, he wasn’t
daft, but eating felt like wasting time in his mind. Every minute spent in the Great Hall,
sitting on his bench for breakfast, lunch and dinner, were precious minutes lost to fulfil his
task. Eventually, eating simply became a chore and Draco avoided it as much as possible.
The potions he downed every now and then kept the hunger at bay, anyway, so he didn’t even
notice his body needed to eat. Hence why he lost so much weight, he supposed.

But Draco looked around himself and saw nothing but the shack. The ceiling was not
magical, there were no candles hanging from it, there were no tables for the different houses
and he was alone with Sirius, here. His friends were not there and the wood of the walls were
a striking opposition to the stones covering the walls of the castle. He wasn’t at Hogwarts. He
couldn’t work on his task, not here, despite he had a few documents with him in his trunk so
he could swot during the holidays. So maybe eating wouldn’t be too much of a burden, today.
Maybe he could have a fruit. Besides, he felt bad saying ‘no’ to Sirius when he looked at him
that way, like he actually cared and wanted nothing but his well-being. Draco yielded.

“Yeah okay. What fruits do you have?” he asked after he took a moment to think.

Sirius jumped on his feet and walked to the fridge which he opened. From where Draco was,
he couldn’t see Sirius’ head anymore. He couldn’t see the top of his body at all, to be fair. He
was just legs and a tattooed hand. The thought amused him a bit but he swallowed it down so
he wouldn’t be laughing out loud.

“Well, uh… Not much, from what I see,” he said as he slammed the door shut and searched
the kitchen to find a fruit. “I am sure we must have some,” he said, scratching his hair gently.

“It’s okay. I don’t even want it anyway,” Draco shrugged.

“Nope! Don’t even think about it. You’re going to eat even if I have to transfigure that old tea
towel into an apple,” he said, a hint of determination in his voice. For a second, Draco feared
he might actually transfigure the old cloth.

“Just because it looks like an apple doesn’t mean it’s edible,” he offered casually. Sirius
snorted.

“You’ve clearly never eaten anything transfigured if you think that,” he said as he fumbled in
a drawer.

“Have you?” he asked, a curious eyebrow raised despite Sirius wasn’t looking at him.

“Yes, plenty of times” he replied simply. His tone definitive and a bit dull.

Draco didn’t dare to ask more questions despite his curiosity was far from fed.

“Ah-ah!” Sirius exclaimed after a short silence, brandishing a pear high above his head like a
soldier carried his sword. Draco chuckled.

“Congrats, you found the rare gem,” he teased.

“I told you I would,” he winked.

“Who knew you were not always wrong?” he teased.

Sirius chuckled. “Hope you like pears,” he smiled as he approached to hand it to him. Draco
half-shrugged and took it.

“It’s alright”

“Now, eat. You’ll feel better”

Draco thanked him – yes sir, he did. He still couldn’t thank Remus but he could thank Sirius
easily now – and he bit hard in the pear, relishing in the bitter taste of its juice splashing in
his mouth after one bite. Sirius came back to the armchair and he sat down in the same
position as before, as though he hadn’t moved at all. They ate in a comfortable silence for a
while until Sirius broke it. Draco noticed after all those months that Sirius didn’t handle
quietness very well. It was probably because of the time he spent at Azkaban, Draco guessed.

“So,” Sirius said after he swallowed. “how’s school going?”

Oh. Small talks then? Draco could do that.

“Alright, I guess,” he said. “How’s being a fugitive going?” he shot back without thinking.

Teasing each other had become part of their weird relationship. It was one of Draco’s
favourite aspect of it, truth be told. Sirius smirked and let his tongue brush his bottom lip
before he pulled on it softly to refrain from laughing.

“Your honesty is refreshing,” he said instead.

“Is it?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends but they’ve been walking on eggshells about the
whole ordeal ever since I’ve been out… Or in would be more accurate because it’s been
fourteen years, almost fifteen and they’re still acting as though I would shatter if we talk
about it”

“Are they right to think that?” Draco asked in earnest.

“I don’t know, maybe?” he shrugged. “But I’m out, now. Ain’t I?”

“That you are,” Draco smirked. “I can’t say it went unnoticed”

“Ah, what can I say? I love making a show of myself,” he winked and Draco chuckled.

“That’s probably why they’re worried, you know?”

“Maybe,” he conceded with a nod. “But I hate the way they all act like I’m potentially going
to do something incredibly stupid like crying or… I don’t know”

“Stupid like, going to the death eaters headquarters while being on the run?” he deadpanned,
his eyes smiling though. Sirius barked a laugh.

“We handled it quite well, didn’t we?” he grinned.

“We did,” he agreed with a soft chuckled.

“That was fun!”

“We could have died!”

“But we didn’t,” Sirius smirked smugly.

“But we could’ve,” he insisted, punctuating his sentence by a stern look. Sirius groaned and
stood up before he grabbed a pack of cigarettes.

“Where’s the fun if you don’t risk your life every now and then?” he said as he tuck a
cigarette behind his ear.

“Hence why they’re worried,” Draco said as though it was very obvious. “You just answered
your own question yourself”
“Come on, pup. Let’s continuing this conversation outside I want to smoke,” he said as he put
on his leather jacket. “Or maybe we could talk about that thing you’ve been wanting to say
since you arrived,” he smiled mischievously.

“Who said I wanted to talk to you?” he replied flatly.

“The look on your face,” he retorted with a snort. “You’ve been looking at me with those
eyes since yesterday, I know you want to talk about something but I’m patient enough to wait
until you bring it up,” he smirked. Draco rolled his eyes, amused. He denied it with a quick
shake of the head, though he put on his coat and followed Sirius to put on his shoes. “You
want a cigarette too?” Sirius offered as he nodded to the pack he left on the table.

“Is that okay?”

Sirius nodded. “Help yourself,” he said as he fixed the collar of his jacket.

Then, they left the shack together to sit under the porch. They didn’t speak for a few
moments. Draco enjoyed the sound of the rain and the way it smelled, the storm left a thick
scent in the air and Draco smiled as he inhaled softly the delicious scent of wet grass and
mud. He loved that. Then, Sirius lit up his cigarette and offered to lit Draco’s too and they
lost themselves in the enjoyable burn of their throat.

“It was brave you know?” Sirius said after a while.

“Mmh?”

“Admitting you need help and telling us about what has been asked of you,” Sirius supplied
as he glanced at him quickly before he refocused on the forest.

“It’s getting out of hand, isn’t it?” he replied softly, a little bit embarrassed.

“It seems to be,” he agreed with a curt nod. “I’m glad you felt safe enough to reach out to
us,” he said as he squeezed Draco’s knee gently before he pulled away so he could tuck a
strand of his hair behind his ear.

“I didn’t know who else to talk to, to be frank. I feel so… Lonely,” he said through a small
breath.

“You’re not alone,” he promised. “Now you told us, Remus and I are going to help you. If
you need to talk or if you feel stuck or scared or anything just– well… We’re just a letter
away,” he said softly, releasing the smoke through the nose. Draco nodded.

“I know, thanks”

Sirius nodded and they stopped talking again. The ambiance was rocked by the sound of the
birds singing in the trees and the rain falling slower over the forest as well as the smoke they
released into the atmosphere. It felt almost peaceful. Draco remembered the first time he
arrived here. He’d been full of prejudices and he’d looked at the shack with disdain.
Now, it felt like a safe place he loved to take refuge in. There was something about the place
that made him feel incredibly safe and at peace. He didn’t know if it had something to do
with Sirius and Remus or not but he actually enjoyed the time he spent here. It felt like being
suspended somewhere on the continuous line of time. It was odd, but it was a good odd.

Draco glanced at Sirius a few times as he tried to decipher the enigma that was Sirius Black.
He had mixed feelings about him because Sirius always sent different signals which were
hard to read. On one hand, he looked so confident, so certain about everything and so
insouciant that it was enviable but on the other hand Draco felt a certain amount of
vulnerability and a certain naivety, impulsiveness that could easily get him killed.

Perhaps being locked in Azkaban had felt like somebody had stolen years of his life from him
and so he tried to compensate or maybe Sirius had just always been like that and Azkaban
didn’t ruin him too bad. But Draco knew it couldn’t be true because a place like this
inevitably left its mark on people and the way Sirius was behaving didn’t seem real enough,
almost like a facade he built to protect himself, hidden out of sight where he only allowed
himself to feel things and being himself.

That was relatable.

A man like him, a man who went through a war and a half – almost two now – and spent
twelve years surrounded and stuck with the vilest creatures known to any humans’
knowledge could only have many secret feelings he didn’t dare to acknowledge. Draco didn’t
believe in that mask he wore. He thought maybe that was a part of Sirius’ personality but it
couldn’t be Sirius as a whole.

Some pieces were missing and after three months, Draco surprised himself as he wanted to
find out what that was about. He wanted to discover the man under the facade, whole and
complete. He didn’t doubt for a second he could learn a lot from him.

There was just something about Sirius that was naturally intimidating when you looked at
him. He had a high degree of charisma and a face which could bewitch anyone. His eyes
were the same colour as Draco except they seemed to carry danger and mortal threats inside
his irises at all times. He inspired danger and fear along with admiration and devotion. He
had the look of a man who went to hell, saw death and spat at its face just to come out and
bloom again in a world that couldn’t handle the madness kept close to his heart.

Draco remembered how it had felt to meet him. The constant alarm ringing in his head telling
him Sirius could end his life here and there if he wanted to but being the arrogant arsehole
Draco was, he refused to show submission and so they fought. He considered himself lucky
Sirius wasn’t the murderer everyone said he were.

Under the surface, there was also something soft and gentle about him and Draco was getting
to know that side of him, pieces after pieces he discovered the man within and he was
growing on him.

Eventually, Draco came to the conclusion that Sirius was a child stuck in the body of an
adult.
Being around Sirius was easy and talking to him was even easier, at least to someone like
Draco, maybe not every one would agree. He couldn’t believe he used to hate him – or at
least despise him a little. It felt like ages ago because now, he wanted to pour all his secrets
into the man and confide in him like he only did with Blaise.

Sirius had the advantage of being older and so Draco picked him as his adult figure despite
his aforementioned childishness, and he did it unconsciously. He didn’t choose Sirius, his
heart did. Sirius had seen death and life despite he’d been deprived of one, and so he knew
things not everyone did.

Draco felt safe with him in a way he had never felt safe around another adult until now, not
even his mum.

“You were right, I want to talk to you about something,” Draco said after Sirius crushed his
cigarette in the ashtray.

“Oh really? I didn’t see it coming,” he smirked.

“Do you want to know or not?” he glared at him though it was definitely not as sincere as it
used to be and so Sirius laughed.

“Sure, pup. Tell me everything you want,” he smiled. “You know I’m here to listen”

Draco took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke slowly before he spoke. “So, it
turns out that León is a Veela”

Sirius’ eyebrows raised on his forehead before he let out a startled laugh. “Wow. That is an
interesting development”

“Isn’t it?” he snorted bitterly.

“How did you find out?”

“Someone told me”

“Maybe they lied”

“They didn’t,” he denied.

“How do you know?”

“I asked him,” he shrugged.

“You walked up to him and you straight out asked him?” he gasped before he dissolved in
laughter. “I knew you were audacious but this is simply too good”

“I needed to know, didn’t I? Because of the– the.. Well, you know? The thing,” he explained,
lowering his voice on the last word after he exhaled the smoke.
“The ‘thing’,” he smirked. “Is that how we call it now, pup?” he teased and Draco rolled his
eyes.

“Shut up,” he said but his voice quivered with a miss-controlled laughter.

“Right, sorry. So, your man is a Veela?”

“He’s not my man,” he glared at him.

“He could be though,” he objected.

Draco pursed his lips.

“No, he couldn’t”

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

“You know why,” he said before he gave him a pointed look. They stared at each other for a
few seconds before he sighed. “I can’t be gay”

“You said that about being a werewolf too, if my memory is correct – which it is,” he cocked
his head smugly. “It didn’t stop you from being one,” he smirked.

“This is different. They couldn’t accept it,” he whispered.

The silence that followed was charged and heavy and Draco felt his throat tightened a bit.
Sirius glanced at him cautiously before he pursed his lips and sighed.

“You’re already a werewolf, it won’t make much difference to your parents if you’re gay
too,” he said softly.

“They could forgive me for being a werewolf. My mother doesn’t mind,” he reminded him.

“But they couldn’t forgive you for being gay?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Surprising, right?”

“No I mean… Cissy isn’t a bitch. Well she is but not to that extend. She’s always been
supportive of me through the years– okay right. She doesn’t know I’m gay but still. She was
there for me even after I was disowned and I don’t think she’d let down her own son after all
the struggle she went through to have you,” he shook his head.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“She struggled a lot to get pregnant,” he said, his gaze going softer. “She asked help to
Reggie back in the days because she and Lucius had been married for a few years and she
still couldn’t give him a heir,” he explained.

Draco frown deepened a bit. “And Regulus helped?”

“He tried,” Sirius smiled. “He brewed a few potions and they saw each other quite a lot
through the years to see how it evolved but she never got pregnant– wait scratch that. She did
get pregnant but she never gave birth to any of them. A few days before Reggie left for
France and let everyone think he was dead, he gave me a potion I had to give to her but he
said it was a last resort because it could be very dangerous for the baby…” he gave him a
look. “For you,” he said softly.

“What potion was that? I have never heard about a fertility potion being dangerous for a
baby. That’s absurd,” his eyes narrowed.

“It’s because it wasn’t a fertility potion,” Sirius said very seriously.

“What was it then?” Sirius pursed his lips and looked like he was debating about whether or
not he should tell him. Draco wanted to know. “Sirius?”

“He gave her a few phials of Felix Felicis,” he admitted through a breath. Draco’s eyes
widened.

“A few phials?” he almost shrieked. “She could have died!”

“Trust me, I know,” he said grimly. “And so did your mother and Regulus. But she got
pregnant twice before you and she never managed to keep them. She was desperate and
Regulus thought a bit of luck could help. Turned out he was right. You’re the living proof of
that. But it had never been done before and he didn’t know exactly what kind of effects it
could have on you. She drank a few drops every two weeks and she was monitored at St
Mungo’s until your birth after the fourth month. A few months later you were born and
healthy and everything was alright. Your father never knew of that, of course not. But
everything turned out right, it seems,” he smiled.

“I can’t believe she’s been through that just to have me,” he whispered, his eyes wet.

“And yet,” he smiled. “So believe me when I say that you being gay isn’t going to stop her
from loving you. At this point, I don’t think anything could,” he squeezed his arm gently.
“And I believe it with my whole heart”

“This is insane”

“I know. Did I mention Regulus was your godfather?”

Draco gaped at him, utterly shocked, before he composed himself. “You’re lying, right?
Severus is my godfather”

“But he hasn’t always been. There once was a time when Regulus was your godfather but
that was until Lucius found out he betrayed that ugly gothic bastard living in your house,” his
nose wrinkled in disgust.

“How didn’t I know about that?” he asked.

“If there’s something we’re good at in this family, is keeping secrets,” he smiled sadly.
“Sirius, do you know who meddled with my mem–“

The door behind them opened and Remus finally appeared, his cigarettes already lit up and a
cup of tea in the hand. Draco shut his mouth. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Remus but it felt
too personal to get him involved. Sirius stood up and kissed his forehead softly before he
made him some room to sit down. Remus looked exhausted but alright.

“Hey, what did I miss?” he asked as he took a sip of tea.

“Nothing, really. Just the usual Black-Malfoy family drama,” Sirius said casually as he gave a
wink to Draco.

“Anything new?” Remus asked.

“Nope, just the old stuff. I was telling him that Regulus was his godfather for a while,” he
explained.

“Oh yeah. That was awful when it changed,” Remus said grimly.

“But let’s not dwell on the past. What happened, happened and there’s not much we can do
about it!” Sirius said cheerfully. “What we can change, though, is your future,” he added as
he gave another look to Draco.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Easy! A plan in four steps!” Sirius grinned.

“Four?” he repeated sceptically.

“Four, five or six! Who counts, really?” he rolled his eyes. “What matters is that we have a
plan and it has steps!”

“However the number of steps is still to be determined,” Draco underlined.

“Exactly! Because nothing is stable and so we can’t be planning too far ahead!” Sirius
explained.

“First of all, we need to know if you’re a good occlumens or not. It is decisive,” Remus
interrupted Sirius before he could speak again.

“Bellatrix taught me but Snape said it was lame so.. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“Would you mind if I checked your shields? I’m not an excellent legilimens but I had to learn
for a mission and I’m not too bad either,” Remus said. Draco nodded. “Alright let me finish
my cup of tea and then we’ll get to it”

“In meantime, let me continue the explanation of this thoroughly thought plan,” Sirius said
and Draco snorted.

“You made that plan in thirty minutes, I am sure,” he gave him a look.
Sirius gasped, offended. “Of course not! Moony, tell him!”

“It took at least two hours,” Remus said.

“Right,” Draco snorted. “Anyway, tell me about it,” he said as he focused on whatever was
about to come out of Sirius” mouth.

“So, once we’d have made sure you could do occlumency, we’ll need to find a way to
communicate with you while you’re at Hogwarts. For now, we’re only sending you a few
letters a month but you can trust it will entail a larger amount of letters to have us as allies,”
he grinned.

“Why would you send me more letters?” Draco asked confused.

“Communication is the key. You obviously won’t be able to find a way to let the death eaters
in so easily and we need to know how fast you progress but also we need to be able to help
you out when you’re stuck with something,” Remus answered.

“Wait, you want me to succeed?” he gaped.

“Of course!” Sirius exclaimed. “If you fail, you’re going to put yourself in danger. You can’t
fail and we can’t let that happen so we’re going to help. Besides, if you keep us updated we’ll
be able to inform the Order when it’d be needed to ensure the intrusion will fail and cause a
little amount of casualties, as little as possible”

“So, the plan is that I succeed and you’re going to help me but also I have to keep you
updated?” he frowned. “Doesn’t it make me a spy?”

“Not really,” Remus said.

“Totally,” Sirius replied at the same time.

“Sirius!” Remus hissed.

“What? It’s true!” Sirius shot back. “He’s going to help us sabotage the death eaters’ mission,
for fuck’s sake! Of course it makes him a spy!”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Draco said as he shook his head. Panic was already
overwhelming him at the thought of doing it.

“It’s alright, we understand,” Remus said softly. “There’s another way,” he said carefully.
Draco narrowed his eyes, not very liking where this was going.

“Mmh, what other way?” he asked.

“We could get Harry involved,” Remus said. Sirius pursed his lips and clasped his hands on
his laps but he didn’t speak.

“You want to get Potter involved?” he shrieked. “He’s making my life bloody hard as it is!”
“I knew you wouldn’t like that but I think you should hear me out before you refuse,” Remus
put the cup aside and threw his cigarette in the ashtray. Draco did too.

“I think there’s nothing you could say to convince me this is a good idea,” he shook his head.

“Listen and then decide,” Remus said.

Draco exhaled loudly. “Fine! Tell me!”

“Harry is in the centre of the war already, Voldemort wants him dead and so he’s a target.
Being your ally wouldn’t change much to that,” Sirius explained carefully.

“Besides, Harry is at Hogwarts with you. He could actually help you, much more than we
could since we’re stuck outside and we meet only two days per month. Harry is smart and he
can be discreet if needed–“ Draco snorted aloud. “–and he knows the castle like the back of
his hand thanks to… Uh…” Remus paused and glanced at Sirius. They exchanged an
undecipherable look which only pissed Draco off.

“We made an extremely useful…tool when we were still students and Harry has it now,”
Sirius said without giving too much away. “This tool is extremely important to ensure
everyone’s safety when the day will come. Harry is respected among the students, especially
now the newspapers give his words some credit”

“Therefore, he could protect the students efficiently as he’d navigate through the
passageways–“ Remus continued before Draco interrupted him.

“You’re telling me the passageways are real?” he gasped.

“Did you really think the shrieking shack was the only one?” Remus smirked.

“I suppose,” he nodded.

“Well, it’s definitely not!” Sirius chuckled.

“You could just tell me where they are then, and so I could protect the students myself. I
don’t need Potter for that!” he said, upset at the idea of teaming up with him.

Potter and him working together could only lead to another disaster. Draco knew it.

“It would be a good idea if only you were available on that day which you won’t be,” Sirius
gave him a stern look, his face scarily serious again. “And I mean it, Draco. You won’t leave
the death eaters for a second until the Order arrives. Actually, you won’t drop the act until
we’re sure this is all over”

It had been the second time they mentioned the ‘Order’ but Draco had no idea what or who
they were. They sounded like special agents who operated for the Ministry on secret
missions. He didn’t know if that were true or not but he thought it was cool.

“Until the war ends, you mean,” he replied bitterly. He didn’t want to be a death eater. He
didn’t want to cause anyone harm.
“Yes,” Sirius breathed as he squeezed his eyes shut. He looked like it pained him as much as
Draco. “I’m sorry pup,” he said softly. “But we can’t risk your safety. There won’t be any
other way until we find a way out for you,” he explained.

“For me, and my mother,” he reminded him. Remus and Sirius exchanged a look and Draco
frowned. “What?”

“We can’t get Narcissa out,” Remus said and Draco’s stomach dropped.

“Why not?”

“We already offered and she declined,” Sirius explained.

“It was a long time ago, things have changed! Surely she changed her mind,” Draco said, his
heart beating faster.

“I asked her through Andy a few days ago,” Sirius shook his head. “I’m sorry, Draco”

“That’s not fair! She’s not safer than I am and as long as she’ll stay at the manor, she’ll be a
potential target! As long as she stays with the death eaters I won’t– I–…” He stopped talking,
his lips parted as his eyes widened. “I won’t be able to leave, neither,” he breathed, his eyes
wet. “There’s no way out for me neither, right?”

“We could find a way to–“ Remus began but Draco stopped him immediately.

“No,” he stated firmly. “I won’t leave without her. Because if I do then she’d be punished
because of me and they might kill her. I am not going anywhere if she doesn’t come with
me,” he bowed his head and blinked quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said as he squeezed his knee again.

“Did she say why?” he lifted his head to meet his gaze. “Did she say why she couldn’t
leave?”

“Because of your father,” Sirius replied.

“What about him?” he frowned.

“She doesn’t want to leave him”

Draco’s hands began to shake before he stood up abruptly. “She doesn’t want to leave him?”
he repeated, his jaw clenched and his voice emotionless in a scary way. “She said she would
leave him!” he spat.

“When was it?” Remus asked.

“After she found out I was a werewolf”

“I think she was probably mad at him when she said that,” Sirius tried.
“Oh so she said that in the grip of emotion?” he spat.

“Probably,” Sirius winced.

Draco bit his lip so hard it drew blood. He felt mad at her again. She promised! She promised
she’d take care of them, she said she would leave him and then they’d be safe. He poked his
tongue out and brushed his lip, cleaning the blood as he did before he inhaled deeply and
exhaled sharply. Fine. She wanted to play it like that? He could play that game too. He turned
his back to face Sirius and Remus, his eyes burning with a blazing determination he had
never felt so intensely before.

“So the idea is that I play the role of the perfect death eater, right?” he asked, his voice even
despite the anger he still struggled to contain inside.

“Yes, that’s the idea,” Remus nodded carefully.

“Alright. I’ll be the best fucking death eater this goddamn world has ever seen if that’s what
it takes but you have to promise me that it won’t be useless. Promise me it will end this
fucking war if I do as you say,” he almost begged.

“I promise it will make a difference,” Sirius said. Remus glanced at him but he didn’t seem as
convinced. Draco didn’t care. He needed the promise and so he took it.

He exhaled again. “Alright. I’ll do it, then. What’s the next step of the plan?” he asked.

“So, we thought maybe Harry could actually take care of the students’ safety and empty the
school while you’d be guiding the death eaters to the opposite way,” Remus explained. “That
is a very important point of this plan and it’s actually what made us think Harry should be
involved because while he’d leave the school with the other students, he would be out of
reach and safe too. Both of you would be”

“Do you understand?” Sirius asked and Draco nodded slowly.

“There’s one more thing,” Remus said and Draco’s gaze flew back to him.

“What?”

“Harry is my godson–,” Sirius said.

“–and my nephew,” Remus interjected.

“–thus we are talking to him every two or three days. He could be the one informing us about
your progress if you two worked together. This way, you wouldn’t risk blowing up your
cover and no one would know you’re passing us informations since Harry would be the one
passing them and as we already mentioned, Harry knows enough places in the castle to
ensure your conversations would remain private,” Sirius finished.

“Now I think we covered everything,” Remus said.

“So.. What do you think?” Sirius asked, his eyes locked on Draco as he analysed his facial
expressions carefully.

“Sounds perfect, except your plan has a fatal flaw,” Draco snarled.

“Care to elaborate?” Sirius asked, an eyebrow arched.

“I can’t fucking stand him, there’s no way I’d be working with that arsehole,” he
deadpanned, his eyes burning with the vicious hatred he still felt deep down except he
redirected to Potter like he often did when he needed to hate someone. Because hating Potter
was easier than hating his mother, even right now. Draco really wanted to understand her, he
really wanted to be comprehensive but he couldn’t believe she chose his father over him,
again. He felt hurt and betrayed.

Sirius and Remus exchanged another look before Sirius sighed. “Well, that’s going to be
harder than I thought to convince him, Moony. What do we do now?”

But Remus shook his head and no one seemed to have an answer for the moment so they left
it to that. Draco shook his head and walked back to the shack, upset after hearing the plan
they came up with and the revelation about his mother. He slammed the door behind him.

Draco wasn’t stupid, he knew realistically that it had chances to work and that it was
probably the best outcome he could hope for. But in meantime, it’d mean he’d have to trust
Potter and talk with him and meet him – well, they were already meeting every now and then
at the top of the astronomy tower but it only worked for them because none of them spoke.
As soon as one of them would open their mouth, it’d all go to shit.

And this plan couldn’t go to shit. They’d have to find another way.

Besides, following this plan also meant Draco would have to be a death eater, an actual one.
He’d have to plunge into this vile world he feared and despised so the plan could work. He’d
have to tarnish his soul and sacrifice himself in the process for the greater good because he
couldn’t be saved. He always knew, since the moment he received the task, that he’d be a
collateral casualty and the chances he’d see a world at peace, a world in which war wasn’t a
thing anymore, were thin.

However, he couldn’t help but think he deserved it and so his fate wasn’t fair. Some people
are born to be heroes, some are born to be villains. It turned out Draco was born to be a mix
of both, or at least an important pawn in the succeed of the mission which was supposed to
destroy the Dark Lord and free the world from his influence. Draco didn’t want to play that
game and yet, if they couldn’t find anything else, he’d play it enthusiastically just because he
knew that bastard would lose at the end.

Revenge shouldn’t be a powerful motivation and yet… It was.

The Dark Lord took everything from him and his mother let him down. Draco was more than
willing to sacrifice whatever was needed to be if it meant he’d make them pay. All of them.
Greyback, the Dark Lord, Lucius and his mother. He wanted to make them pay.
He had no idea if he felt that way because of the moon or if those feelings were his but he
hated them all enough to consider doing it. Unfortunately for them, they all thought it would
be strategic to shape him into the boy he now was but they failed and Draco never bent, he
remained true to himself deep down. Playing a role was a second nature at this point and so
he guessed he could play the role a bit longer if it ended all his misery.

Yeah. He could do it, if it ever came to that.

***

A few hours later, after he calmed down, Remus proceeded to take him to the forest to
practice. Draco was sitting crossed-legs in the mud, his eyes closed as he focused on his
breathing just like he did all those months ago. He opened an eye discreetly to look at Remus
who was mirroring his position before he whacked Draco’s hand lightly.

“Focus,” he scolded him.

“Oi! Your eyes are not even closed!”

“Because you’re the one who needs to focus, not me,” he replied with his teacher’s voice.

Draco groaned but he closed his eyes again and he tried to focus. They hadn’t done that in a
while but it seemed he’d progressed a bit since the last time because Draco was clearly not
struggling a bit to feel the vibration beneath his fingertips, coming right from beneath the
earth.

“Why are we doing that again?” he complained, his voice embarrassingly whiny.

They both opened their eyes and stared at each other before Remus replied.

“I need to know how much you progressed. It’s important to evaluate the evolution of your
situation with the wolf,” Remus replied, his tone calm. “Now, focus”

Draco sighed and closed his eyes again, at the same time Remus’ did. He brushed the mud
under his fingertips slowly as he soaked up the nature surrounding him. He heard the birds in
the trees, probably the same as before, and he heard the raindrops falling slowly, one by one,
now the rain stopped drenching the forest.

Draco didn’t know but Remus had opened his eyes again eventually and was now studying
him to see how he reacted to the element surrounding him. Draco’s eyebrows furrowed softly
when he felt a vibration in the ground coming from further away, somewhere deeper into the
forest.

“What do you feel?” Remus asked.

“I’m not sure”

“Take your time. Let it invade your body and focus on it until you can tell from where it
comes from and potentially what it–“
“It’s a deer!” he said, squeezing his eyes tightly. “I can feel it. It’s hard to explain but… It
feels like a deer”

“Good,” Remus praised, a smile in his voice. “Keep going. What else can you tell me?”

“I don’t know how far it is, but the vibration are coming from the East,” he said.

His fingers dug under the earth and he scratch it softly as he tried to feel the wave with more
precision.

“Great! That’s very good, Draco”

Before he managed to determine where the deer was, Draco felt the distinct feeling of his
instinct tugging behind his navel and just like it always did, his hand shot up before he could
think, snatching someone’s wrist before the hand could land on his shoulder.

“Wow,” Sirius said before he chuckled. “That’s impressive”

Draco opened his eyes suddenly before he glared at Sirius. “I was focused!”

“Yeah, I know sorry. It’s just uh– it’s getting late you know?” he said as he nodded skyward.
“You’ve been doing that for hours”

“And I found a deer,” Draco said flatly. “Isn’t that impressive, Rem– Remus?” he choked on
the word as he looked at Remus’ bewildered expression stitched on his face. “What?”

“Did you hear him coming?” Remus asked.

“No, I was focused on the vibration. And he has a bloody light pace,” he replied.

“I know that’s why I needed to check. How did you know then?”

“I don’t know. I felt it,” he shrugged.

“You felt it?” Sirius repeated, admittedly a bit stunned.

“Yeah, like Potter when he hides under his stupid cloak and try to sneak up on me,” he
growled.

“You can feel Harry’s presence even when he’s under his cloak?” Remus reworded, his eyes
wide.

“I don’t just feel him. I can literally tell where he is standing,” he clarified. Sirius made a
weird strangled noise and Remus looked at him in awe. “What is it?”

“Just to be clear, you don’t smell him right? You feel him, like inside?” Remus asked.

“Yeah it’s like something inside is telling me whenever someone’s around. It doesn’t work in
a crowd but when there’s not too many people at once, I can tell”
Remus’ face split into a wide grin, easily matched by one of Sirius’ own. Draco looked at
them in turns. “I think this might be your first capacity,” Remus said cheerfully.

“Wait, like you when you hear people’s heartbeat?” he asked dumbfounded. Remus’ smile
grew wider.

“Exactly! You’ll have to develop it and with a bit of practice you’ll be formidable! No one
would be able to sneak up on you anymore”

“Sounds like a dream come true,” he deadpanned.

“You don’t understand. This is a very precious gift, especially in your situation,” Remus said.
“If you manage to master this new skill, you could become a ghost, sort of. You’d know
exactly who is here and how many people there is, you could avoid them and mess with their
heads easily. This is the best skill you could have developed I believe because it doesn’t rely
on your senses so even if someone drugs you, you could still be protected!”

Now it was Draco who looked at him in awe. “This is… I don’t even know! It could be so
useful!”

“You lucky bastard,” Sirius gave him a Cheshire smile as he clapped his shoulder.

“I suspected you would develop something like that after you caught that bird falling from its
nest but this is even better than I thought!” Remus grinned. “If you succeed at closing your
mind entirely from any intruders, you could be one of the most dangerous enemies one could
have”

“Dangerous, really?” he snorted.

“Yes, really,” Remus nodded as his smile faded. “I only know another wolf capable of such
skill and he’s the most dangerous I’ve ever met. I believe you met him too”

“Greyback,” he said in a breath and Remus nodded.

“This is not just people you could detect but actions too later on, if you master it. You could
predict someone’s next move before they even do it”

“Like a seer?”

“Sort of except you can only feel a few seconds ahead,” he smiled.

“But sometimes a few seconds is all you need,” Sirius smiled encouragingly.

“Brilliant,” Draco breathed.

“Should I check your occlumency skill too?” Remus asked.

“Yes, okay. We better do it now and then Sirius will take me home”
Remus nodded and grabbed his wand before he pointed it to Draco’s face. “How do you want
to proceed? Should I cast the spell in conditions or do you want to prepare yourself first?”

“Just cast it when I don’t expect it so you can see how weak my shields are,” he snorted.

“Alright,” he nodded.

To grasp the best effect, Sirius, Draco and Remus kept talking mindlessly about various
things but it was mostly just small talks. Eventually, the conversation shifted to lighter topics
and Sirius surprised Draco when he invited him over for his birthday.

“Who will be coming?” he asked.

“Well, our friends of course,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh and Regulus”

“Potter?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Which one?” Sirius smirked.

“Both,” he replied flatly.

“Harry’s my godson and James is my best friend,” he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“Of course so they’ll both be here,” he nodded slowly.

“Yeah, but I promise you won’t have to talk to Harry”

Of course he wouldn’t have to but Potter knew how to be annoying enough to talk to him
even though he didn’t want to.

“You obviously don’t know your godson,” he snorted. Sirius chuckled softly.

“You’re right, he would probably try to talk to you but I don’t want any fight on my
birthday,” he said, a warning in the eye and Draco shook his head.

“If he leaves me alone…” he shrugged.

“Wait does that mean you’re coming?” Sirius asked hopeful.

“It depends,” he smirked.

“Mmh?”

“What cake will you have?” he asked.

“A lemon cake and another one which will be a chocolate cake,” he smiled as he gave a fond
look to Remus. “This one loves chocolate, right love?”

“It’s delicious,” he nodded. Sirius chuckled softly.

“Okay. You’ll give me the address then, and I’ll be here”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. Draco realised they did that often and it felt both
annoying and impressive, really. They knew each other so well they could literally
communicate with a glance.

“We can’t give you the address, I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated,” Remus explained.

“Complicated?” he arched an eyebrow. Sirius hummed and nodded. “Alright, so how am I

supposed to come to your birthday if I don’t even know the address?”

“The house is protected by the fidelius charm,” Sirius explained.

“Isn’t that a bit too extreme?” he asked.

“It keeps us safe,” Sirius shrugged.

“How does it work? Can the ministry come or are they not able to neither?” he asked with
earnest curiosity.

“As far as I know, they can’t come. And honestly, good riddance or I’d be in Azkaban by
now,” Sirius huffed.

“Oh so the Aurors really couldn’t come. Fucking Potter,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Nothing, just cursing your stupid godson”

“You do that a lot,” Sirius teased.

“It’s like breathing at this point, it comes naturally,” he gave him a wolfish grin and Sirius
barked a laugh.

“After all those years of rivalry, it’s not surprising,” he smiled.

Draco shrugged. “Wait, does that mean you trust me with this?” he asked, surprised. He felt a
tiny bit smaller suddenly as a wave of affection crossed his body and warmed his chest.

“We told you a few secrets already,” Sirius said. “Besides, we do trust you, yes. But you
won’t be able to know where we hide”

“Oh, no?” he asked, slightly disappointed.

“No, but it’s not because we don’t trust you…” Sirius said.

“…It’s just that Dumbledore doesn’t think it’s safe to let you know, just in case of,” Remus
finished.
Dumbledore? What did Dumbledore have to do with that? Draco wanted to ask but he heard
Sirius muttering “Fucking Dumbledore,” under his breath and Remus nudged him sharply to
make him shut up.

After a while, Remus decided Draco was distracted enough and he raised his wand.
Discreetly, he whispered “Legilimens”.

Draco gasped as he head tilted backwards as though someone had hit him and he felt Remus
entering his head slowly and not without efforts. He raised his shields, solid and firm, as he
felt threatened by the intrusion but they seemed stronger than the first time, in Regulus’
classroom. He wondered what was different.

Maybe was it because Remus wasn’t as good as Severus? No, it wasn’t that.

Draco could tell the strength was coming from his shields and the resistance they opposed to
Remus’ assault which was definitely not weak despite it wasn’t as fierce as Snape had been.
It took a while but eventually, a crack appeared and Remus insufflated more of his magic
through it to break the shields and he got inside of his head. As soon as he did, Draco felt him
pulling away and he was greatly thankful that Remus respected his privacy. It was just a test,
after all.

When they opened their eyes, they both were panting heavily on the ground and Remus gave
him a nod which he returned.

“Alright?” Remus asked.

“Yes, you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

They sat on the floor while Sirius was leaning against the trunk of a tree nearby, his arms
crossed on his chest in a nonchalant way.

“So? What’s the verdict?” Sirius asked Remus.

“His shields are strong but something weakens them inside of his head,” he replied before his
gaze fell on Draco. “Do you know what that may be?”

“I don’t know, it used to be alright,” he replied heatedly. He hated it when someone said
something about him was weak. “Maybe I’m just tired. The full moon was yesterday, after
all”

Remus nodded. “You are exhausted and it does incapacitate you on some levels but there’s
something else. If it were just exhaustion you wouldn’t manage to keep strong shields that
long. Maybe it is your emotions,” he said.

“My emotions?” he snorted haughtily. “My emotions are a mess, in case you haven’t noticed.
It is most days”
“Does the chocolate help at all? I know you said it did but it was a while ago. Does it still
help?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “But my emotions still aren’t under control,” his eyebrows furrowed
because he felt upset. “It used to be easy, you know? I thought ‘I don’t want to feel’ and I just
suppressed my emotions easily. Now it’s bloody impossible these days!”

“How long has it been like that?”

“I– I don’t really know. A few months,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed softly as he tried to
put a date on it.

“Before or after the bite?”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed deeper as he tried to remember. “Before… No. Not before.
Definitely after. Do you think it’s the wolf?”

“The wolf or the moon. It means you have to learn how to deal with your emotions again
now they’re more intense than ever. Try meditating more often or practice sport. Although,
you shouldn’t practice sport until your sleep hasn’t improved and that you’re not eating three
meals a day”

“I don’t have time for that,” he said. “I could try to meditate but sport? I could never find the
time for that”

“ maybe write in a diary when you feel overwhelmed, then. That could help and you could do
that at night or whenever you have a moment”

“Do I look like a girl?” he snapped. “Sorry, that was lame,” his face softened. “I didn’t write
in a diary in years and last time I did, I felt like shit”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

“I lost someone I loved,” he gave him a look.

“Oh fuck sorry! I didn’t mean to pry”

“No it’s okay… They’re not– they’re not dead you know? They just, uh… They stopped
replying,” he said as he bowed his head and looked at his shoes while he kicked a pine cone.

“Replying? You were talking to someone through your diary?” Remus’ eyebrows
disappeared in his hair as he raised them up, surprised.

“I know okay! It could have been dangerous and all that shit but it was in third year, I was
like twelve or thirteen maybe, it depends which month you’re referring to. Anyway, I was
young and they were nice and then one day they stopped replying altogether and I lost them. I
haven’t written since then”

“Third year, uh?” Sirius asked, his eyes glistened knowingly before Remus and him
exchanged another silent look. Their lips drew up to reveal a small smile.
“Nice to know my pathetic life amuses you,” he spat.

“No it’s just–“ Sirius began to say but Remus put his hand on his mouth.

“We’re sorry. You’re right that’s not nice,” Remus said instead. “Don’t make fun of him,
Pads”

Draco stared at them, unimpressed but a bit confused. He didn’t know what that was about
but he knew Remus lied at this instant. He didn’t push for answers though. He simply shook
his head and muttered under his breath “Lunatics,” before he left them alone to go back to the
shack to collect his stuff. Remus and Sirius waited until he was inside to move again. Remus
whacked Sirius’ chest gently.

“Oi!”

“Don’t you dare telling him!” he hissed.

“He wouldn’t hate Harry that much if he knew,” he hissed back.

“Or he would hate his guts even more because he abandoned him!”

“Because he was scared when he found out it was Malfoy!”

“I hear that, Pads. But it doesn’t change the fact Draco was hurt and he’ll definitely hate him
even more if you tell him it was because of Harry. Obviously, he meant a lot to Draco even
though he didn’t know it at the time because it seems to be a bit touchy, still”

“Well, you can’t know for sure unless we tell him,” Sirius shrugged.

“Don’t even think about it. We don’t even know for sure if it was Harry or not,” he gave him
a stern look.

“Oh please! Moony think! Harry fell in love with him in third year!” he said, exasperated. “It
didn’t make any sense at first because Draco was such a prat to him and he still is by the
way! But now… If Harry met him through the diary you gave him and then he discovered it
was Draco it’d explain a lot,” he insisted.

“We can’t tell him. If you’re right and it’s actually what happened then we need to let them
sort this out alone,” he said firmly.

“Fine! But I still think it would help with the plan if Draco knew,” he said, his hands lifted in
defence.

“Promise me you won’t tell him”

“I won’t. Cross my heart and kiss my arse or whatever the saying is,” he smirked.

“You’re insufferable,” Remus said but a fond smile was spreading on his lips.
Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer. “Bet you love it,” he
whispered near his ear.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have married you otherwise,” he rolled his eyes but chuckled
softly.

Sirius grinned and pressed their lips together. “I’ll be back soon and when I’ll walk into the
house, you better be naked already,” he smiled mischievously. Remus’ eyes flashed with
arousal and he smiled.

“Right, maybe don’t kill yourself on the road then. Wear your fucking helmet and don’t
forget your wand this time,” he said.

“Will do, love,” he smiled before he pulled away. Remus slapped his arse playfully and Sirius
gave him an amused look.

“You touch, you eat! That’s the rule Moony,” he winked. Remus laughed as he watched him
walking away.

“And keep your mouth shut!” he called as Sirius approached the shack.

“I better keep it shut if I don’t want to swallow a fly, Moons! And trust me, I don’t fancy
eating one ever again,” he flashed him a dashing smile before he disappeared inside the
shack.

“Dumbass,” he whispered under his breath with a fond smile.

 (Un)movable Convictions
Chapter Summary

TW Animal cruelty
TW Past child abuse
TW Torture
CW Sexual content

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Thursday 31st of October 1996.

Going home had been very, really hard.

The trip had been quiet mostly, if not for the rustling leaves in the trees as the motorbike
rushed through the countryside. Draco greeted the sharp blow of the wind happily, his body
heat being far too hot for his skin as anxiety had risen like the first flickers of a bad day
announcing itself through the darkest colour a sunrise should ever display in the autumnal
sky.

Sirius didn’t know what to say to make it better and Draco didn’t think it was even possible
to ease the apprehension creeping inside, considering the place they’d been heading to.
Draco’s stomach had ached as they’d gotten closer to the manor and by the time they’d
reached the forest nearby, he’d been positively ill, his complexion turning an alarming shade
of green, matching the last shades of green fading off the leaves.

Some would argue they were not in a forest, exactly, but Draco considered it was one because
they were surrounded by trees and there was even a small pool of water nearby where he’d
swum a few months back. The hooves of random animals hammered the earth too, Draco
could feel the vibrations in the ground clearly. His training with Remus was starting to pay
off slowly. He’d wished he was still with him rather than here but that was how life was.

The intrusive thoughts erupting in his brain randomly because of the decreasing moon
invisible over their head was nothing in comparison to the dread filling his body whenever he
thought about entering in the manor. Coming back was unnerving, for a multitude of reasons.

Draco could tell Sirius didn’t want to leave him here as he’d parked the motorbike aside,
hidden within the forest, not too far from the edge. He’d stayed with him for as long as he
could, offering one last cigarette to Draco before he’d go back to Remus. Draco had taken
him up on his offer and they’d smoked in a tensed silence which did little to comfort him.
Eventually, they had to part ways and after Sirius had squeezed his shoulder gently and
reminded him they were just a letter away, Draco had had to watch him disappear in the
sunset like a poor dog left behind by its owner, a sharp pang in the chest.

The lump in his throat hadn’t disappeared afterwards and it’d remained thick for as long as
the walk back to the manor had lasted, slightly blocking his airways which had left him
panting on the doorstep when he managed to get there. Predictably, Lucius’ voice was roaring
in the living-room when he entered. Draco had immediately felt the urge to turn around and
leave. But he couldn’t, and so he’d stayed.

Four days later, the tension with his father didn’t subdue one bit and he felt the irresistible
need to strangle him whenever he dared to talk to him. Draco barely granted him an answer
every time but it didn’t discourage Lucius to keep talking.

Dinners were tensed. Draco glared at his mother because she picked his father’s side over his
– again – and she didn’t even try to talk to him ever since he’d been home. And when he
wasn’t too busy sending death glare at her, he was pointedly ignoring Lucius who carried the
whole conversation alone in a very awkward way, a far cry of the confidence once emanating
from him.

Narcissa didn’t speak one bit. She looked like she hadn’t spoken in ages, to be fair. Draco
began to understand the animosity which transpired through Regulus’ letter back in the
summer. If she betrayed him like she betrayed Draco, there was no mystery as to why he was
so mad at her.

Draco’s anger reached a new intensity when he found out Lucius lent the manor to the Dark
Lord so he could now torture people in the house in complete impunity. It was already the
headquarter of the man’s campaign to overthrow the wizarding world government and take
over it but now… It had also become a torture area in which hope couldn’t even bloom
anymore. It felt like nothing could ever feel alright again and it weighed heavy on Draco’s
health.

Sirius, Remus and he had begun to work on a schedule to balance his life properly and regain
healthy habits but being stuck in the manor made him feel hopeless and thus far he’d
struggled to stick to it. He slept only two or three hours a night when he was lucky and eating
felt impossible because of the painful twist in his guts which was constantly hurting him.

Even working on his task had become difficult for obvious reasons. He couldn’t focus and he
was too sleepy half of the time to be effective. Draco wasn’t even sure he could ever be
healthy again, in those conditions. Thankfully, he didn’t have any meeting planned with the
Dark Lord before next week, on Thursday.

The manor was crowded most days and it was never silent. There were people tortured under
his roof at every hour of the day, in the attic, in the cellar and in the dungeons. In the
basement, the death eaters came up with a brilliant idea and brought a crematory oven to get
rid of their victims’ corpses once they were done with them. They also kept body parts in a
fridge to feed Nagini when she came over, during the Dark Lord’s visits. It was barbaric and
it took every bits of honour left of their deaths.
The wizarding world didn’t have many sacred rituals but some mattered more than others.
Death had its own ritual, one which ensured a peaceful afterlife to whoever just passed away.
It took many different forms but it had to be done, to ensure peace to both the deceased and
their families and to balance the magical energies feeding the wizarding world since the dawn
of time, the very source of every magical beings’ core.

Burning the victims’ corpses like the death eaters did prevented them from acquiring that and
wasted the last fibre of their magic to the void rather than pouring it back into the roots of the
trees, handing it back to nature where it belonged.

The mere idea someone was deprived from the ritual repulsed Draco but it had been worse
now the smell of burnt corpses was inlaid within the walls of his home. Draco struggled to
recognise the house of his childhood. It felt morbid and tarnished… soiled by the twisted acts
of cruelty which occurred in there.

He couldn’t believe it was all that remained from the house he grew up in.

There was not a room spared – except for the bedrooms but it made sense since there was no
reason for the death eaters to intrude their privacy more than they already did. The thought of
what was happening kept him up all night. People screams were frightful and made his blood
run cold. Even when they were not torturing people, Draco still couldn’t close his eyes
without facing the reminiscence of the victims’ pain, their screams roaring in his ears even in
the most deafening silence.

He knew he would never be able to forget the sounds haunting the house. It felt like they
anchored themselves in the walls like an unfriendly poltergeist, along with the putrid odour of
death making itself at home.

Draco cried at night, more often than not, his hand clenching his wand under his pillow – he
refused to sleep without it since he came back. He hated how weak he was but he was utterly
terrified, really. He felt miserable and powerless. He wished he could help but there was
nothing he could do, he was stuck and he was not in position to stand up for the prisoners.

First, he had some sense of self-preservation and he wasn’t suicidal yet. Besides, he didn’t
want to be the one at the receiving ends of those nasty spells thrown at the prisoner. Second,
he was too weak to try anything. He could barely stand on his feet these days.

So, Draco hated himself for that but the only thing he could do was to conceal the sound of
their supplications. He cast a silencing charm over his room when it got too much – most of
the time, he forced himself to listen so his brain would register it was what he’d almost
become too: a death eater. He wasn’t responsible for their suffering but he could be, he would
be soon. They were trying to teach him how to torture people and how to get informations
and Draco would have to do as he’s told if he didn’t want to be tortured too.

There was no way to escape it. He’d been naive to think talking about it with Sirius and
Remus would change that.

And so Draco fell back into his old habits he’d picked up over June. He stopped talking. He’d
gone mute again, preferring silence over the eternal torment of the poor souls he was forced
to listen to as they cried until their last breath. He’d lock himself in his room and he played
music to keep his mind off everything when things got too much and he imagined all the
things he’d say if he only dared to, so he could maybe stop the madness currently occurring.
Truthfully, he had nothing to say which wouldn’t put him in a compromising situation so it
probably was best he kept quiet.

He took refuge inside his own head as he shut everyone out. Despite the intrusive thoughts
lingering every now and then, it remained less hostile than the outside world and it felt safer,
too. He’d take suicide ideation over death eaters’ company any day, really. They were a
bunch of criminals and Draco knew better than underestimating them. He knew how
dangerous they were.

The corridor leading to his bedroom was proving that point.

It smelled like blood had been spilled all over the floor. The odour was thick and it had made
him gag the first two days but now, after four days, he slowly got used to it. The thought
made him sick. He shouldn’t get used to it. It didn’t feel right, it felt abnormal, even.
Nowadays, he couldn’t look at the walls and their cracks without imagining blood oozing
from them – an image provided by his brain to explain the thick odour asphyxiating him
restlessly, even behind closed door.

Draco used to hide in the dungeons when he was younger so he would escape his parents’
fights. He remembered all those times Pansy and him had walked through the dungeons,
exploring them like little adventurers while their mothers had tea upstairs. He missed her so
much, he wished he could let her in but if Draco struggled with emotions before, it was
nothing compared to the ordeal it now had become.

Besides, he didn’t want to tell her about the dungeons. They used to be their safe place, after
all, and he lost that too. Nowadays, he couldn’t even approach the staircase without feeling
disgusted. He’d rather protect her from the horrid truth. He knew the people locked
downstairs would only be there temporary. Sooner rather than later, their corpses would be
swallowed by the flames in the basement, leaving only ashes behind them as a proof they
once were there.

The thought made him miserable so eventually, he stopped coming around the dungeons
altogether, strictly sticking to his room as often as possible. The life at the manor was
extremely stressful as it was, he didn’t need to add his own guilt on top of everything else. He
wondered if it was a piece of information he could share with Sirius and Remus but frankly,
he didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t stomach the reality of his own life. He didn’t want
to relive it under no circumstances.

He’d rather bury all that knowledge inside and never think about it again. But that was now
his life and he couldn’t very well pretend like it wasn’t, when he was surrounded by darkness
all the time and he was about to commit to a cause he didn’t even believe in anymore.

His takes on blood status had been controversy these past few weeks, or at least they’d be if
his father knew what he was thinking about. Unfortunately for Lucius, rubbing shoulders
with a few half-bloods and spending more time with Remus and Sirius – that is to say
wizards whose opinion about blood status was definitely not discriminating – had forced
Draco to rethink the whole thing through: shockingly, he came to the conclusion that it didn’t
make much sense.

Dean Thomas was funny, Draco learned after spending so many nights with him, walking
around the castle during their shifts on Monday night. He was smart, he was caring and he
was extremely kind. They were not friends, far from that, but their cordial conversations were
leading to a cordial cooperation at least and Draco just couldn’t pretend Dean was his inferior
anymore.

So he stopped.

Then, there was León Delacour whom he became friends with easily, as surprising as it had
been. Despite the large amount of words existing in English, Draco couldn’t find one to
describe him effectively. Otherworldly, would match quite best, in his opinion but it wasn’t
even strong enough. The man literally turned his world upside down and Draco hadn’t looked
at him in disdain in what felt like forever. There was no way he didn’t consider him his
equal.

And then, to finish, there was Remus. However their meeting in third year hadn’t left quite a
good impression on either of them, Remus had given him a hand as soon as Draco had
needed it. He’d saved his life and protected him without even a second thought and he had
done nothing but protecting him ever since he came into his life, on that hot night of July.

Besides, he’d seen his blood, for Merlin’s sake! It wasn’t dark and soiled and it definitely
didn’t smell gross or any different from Draco’s despite what his father had said when he was
younger. That was a load of bullshit.

Ultimately, he’d really have to thank Remus – and Sirius, by extension – one day because if
not for them, he’d still be thinking the same bullshit he’d been taught at a young age. He
wouldn’t even consider the opposite being a possibility. They planted the seed of doubt in his
mind and now he could see through the haze of hatred his father cautiously forced like a filter
on his eyes. That’s what being raised into bigotry did to you, he supposed.

Draco still didn’t know what to think about mudbloods, truth be told. He didn’t trust them
and he still considered their existence unnatural. To his eyes, they were quite freaks of nature.
Magic couldn’t bloom out of nowhere, he was pretty sure about that – though he realised now
that everything he knew for certain was, in fact, never really true and that truth was never that
binary.

However, he wondered if they had, indeed, stolen magic from purebloods when they burnt
their ancestors alive for being magical beings. Muggles did got inebriated on power, after all,
but it didn’t seem likely to happen. It seemed impossible to do something like that, magic
was sentient and untamable. Muggles could have never stolen it.

Hence why he didn’t know what he thought about them really. Perhaps magic just chose them
randomly to become wizard and shared with them magical fibres? Or perhaps it was all
genetics? Or maybe there just was no explanation as to why some Muggles gave birth to
wizards. So he remained wary of them until he had proofs he could trust them.
It was a slow process, unlearning discriminatory behaviours and to open up to difference,
anyway. He wouldn’t get there before a while, but at least he was trying. The same couldn’t
be told about his relatives.

Despite his epiphany, Draco still had a job to do and things to learn therefore when Bellatrix
came and knocked at his bedroom door, Draco hadn’t been able to turn her down.
Reluctantly, he followed her through the house until she pushed a door open, on the third
floor. It was the same room where he’d learned how to cast the Imperius curse all those
months ago.

Draco swallowed. He knew what it meant to be here. He’d have to pursue his education and
now was time to upgrade the level of difficulty.

“The Dark Lord was pleased to know you progressed quickly last time and he expects
nothing less of you,” she said as she stroked her wand like a cat. Draco found it odd but he
couldn’t be arsed to open his mouth to mention it. He didn’t want to talk at all but he knew he
couldn’t just not answer. Therefore, he decided to keep the conversation to the strict
minimum. “Today, he personally asked me to teach your the cruciatus curse,” she smirked.
“It’s going to be fun, what do you think?”

Draco gave her a look and nodded.

Fun. He could think of a thousand adjectives to describe that situation and none of them were
synonyms to ‘fun’. The room was empty except for a cage on the floor, in one of the corner
of the room. Draco swallowed again, a reflex to keep the bile at bay. He recognised the mice
he’d practised on, all these months ago.

Bellatrix bent down and opened the cage before she grabbed one of them by the skin of the
neck, then she straightened and closed the cage before she shook the small mouse carelessly.
It squeaked and Draco’s heart quickened as his palm were suddenly wet, a sharp opposition
to his mouth which went dry all of a sudden.

He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to do it.

He knew he’d have to eventually and apparently, the time had come, but he couldn’t. He
didn’t want to harm animals. They were pure and innocent, they shouldn’t be stuck in the
middle of humans wars, used as a target to form apprentices. It wasn’t fair.

His face remained blank as he took a step forward, his wand firmly held in his fist as he
swallowed past the lump forming in his throat for the tenth time that day. He took a deep,
steadying breath before he exhaled. He’d tried to meditate lately, just like Remus had
suggested, but keeping his mind empty had been harder than it used to be. Though, this time,
he managed to do it, for the sake of his own safety.

It was a good motivation to succeed.

Bellatrix cast a spell and a box appeared in the centre of the room. It wasn’t large but it was
high enough to keep the mouse inside. Draco watched impartially as Bellatrix threw the
mouse inside. His heart clenched. He didn’t like the way she treated it and he felt already sick
at the idea that he was going to do much worse to it.

Draco stood in front of the box, his wand aiming at it as his hand began to shake ever so
slightly. He didn’t think Bellatrix would notice it but he could feel it. She paced around him,
the sound of her heels hammering the wooden floor, the beat matched his heartbeat and it
seemed to beat harder at the realisation.

It became painful but he tried to ignore it. Draco held his ground as he moved his head in a
perfect circle and tried to relax his shoulders. He felt her hand on his shoulder but he didn’t
dare to glance at her, so he looked intendedly to the box instead.

“Do you know the spell?” she asked near his ear. Her voice sounded awfully honeyed and it
made him shivered. He nodded. “What is it?” she asked for confirmation.

“C- Crucio,” he whispered weakly through a shuddering breath.

“Ah, Draco,” she tutted. “If your father could hear you,” she shook her head before she
walked away from him and stood on his left, hovering over the box like a bird of prey.
“Malfoys don’t stutter, dear,” she said calmly. “Say it again”

Draco blinked quickly as he tried to calm his heartbeat. It was too fast, too uncomfortable. He
released another shuddering breath before he forced his breathing to steady. “Crucio,” he
repeated a bit louder. She smirked.

“Excellent,” she cocked her head. “Now, if you please,” she said as she gestured to the box.
“I want to see how you’re doing,” she gave him a crooked smile, revealing her sharp teeth.
Draco was glad he only saw it in his peripheral vision.

Draco’s hand shook slightly harder and he gritted his teeth. He could feel his heart beating in
his throat, suffocating him in the deadly grip of fear. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want
to cast that horrible spell and hurt that poor mouse. His jaw clenched and he was sure he
would break his teeth if he kept grinding them so hard but he couldn’t coax his jaw to relax.

He didn’t want to do it.

He didn’t want to do it!

He didn’t want to–

“Crucio!” he said as he squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t see the red flash leaving his
wand and his face contorted in pain. He looked like he’d been the one receiving the curse.

The mouse only yelped for a second and jumped before it began to run in circles. At least, he
didn’t hurt it. He felt relieved for the span of a moment before he realised Bellatrix probably
wasn’t as satisfied as he was. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she shook her head.

“My, my…” she said in a fake disappointed tone. “I must say I expected better. Surely you
can do better, right?” Draco looked at her and schooled his face so it wouldn’t betray the fear
he felt inside. He didn’t trust his mouth at the moment so he only nodded and Bellatrix
gestured at the box again. “Go on then, try again,” she said.

Draco gritted his teeth tighter and he cast the spell again, doing the exact same thing as
before and earning himself as little results as the first time. Bellatrix eyed him in silence as
she studied him.

She shook her head again.

“Let me show you,” she pointed her wand at the mouse. “Crucio!” she said, her voice firm
and charged with hatred.

Draco shuddered and bit his lip hard, breaking the skin and drawing blood when he heard the
mouse squeaking and it contorted itself in pain. Draco couldn’t bare it so he looked away and
tried to hide how upset he was. Bellatrix lifted the curse and the mouse stopped making a
sound.

“The secret to succeed casting this spell properly is that you have to really mean it. You must
let yourself overwhelm with hatred and you have to conquer this hatred to channel it into the
spell,” she explained. Draco swallowed hard and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as
he tried to compose himself. He nodded curtly. “Think about something you really hate,” she
asked.

Draco instantly thought about his father and his skin seemed to catch fire instantly as a
burning hatred burnt in his chest, fed with all the awful thoughts he had about the man. His
eyes darkened, his beautiful silver orbs turned into haematite as he remembered all the
suffering he went through because of him. His body tensed up, his blue veins appeared
forcefully on his skin as his muscles clenched and his face hardened. Bellatrix smirked,
satisfied with the reaction she got out of him.

“What are you thinking of?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“My father,” he said harshly, his voice quivered with anger. Her smile widened a bit as her
gaze lit up.

“Interesting,” she muttered. “Keep thinking of him and let it overwhelming you,” she said.
“Then, when you feel it, cast the spell”

It took another two minutes before he made another attempt. The spell flew out of his wand
easily but it barely made the mouse jump again. Bellatrix shook her head. “Again,” she said.
Draco tried again. It failed. “Again!” but he failed again. “One more time!” she said and
Draco cast it with more intent but the result remained the same.

Bellatrix was pacing again as she kept asking him to try again. Eventually, she changed
strategy and she tried another approach as she snaked her arms around his shoulders. She
whispered near his ear and Draco’s hatred grew again. “Think about all the time he hit you”

Draco was shaking with anger at this point. “Think about all the time he told you you were
not enough, when he called you a coward,” she sniggered. “Are you a coward Draco?” she
taunted.

“No!” he replied coolly.

“Prove it. Show him!” she hissed, taunting him so he’d succeed. “Cast that spell and prove
him. Remember that time he humiliated you after you lose to Potter. You couldn’t catch that
snitch fast enough,” she reminded him. “What else is there to remember?” she asked him.

“That time he sold my books so I’d focus on Quidditch,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“That’s it, Draco,” she encouraged. “Cast the spell again. Tell me one thing you hate about
him or one reason you hate him and then cast the spell until you succeed,” she said.

“He humiliated me in front of the minister because I greeted him with a smile. I was four!” he
spat before he cast the spell, vibrating with anger.

He failed.

Suddenly, a bunch of memories rushed in his head and before he could stop it he felt utterly
overwhelmed. Lucius hitting him, Lucius belittling his dreams, Lucius humiliating him,
Lucius pushing him away when he wanted a hug, calling him a girl. Lucius hitting his
mother. He pictured it so clearly in his head and something snapped inside as he cast the
spell, almost yelling it.

The result was immediate. The mouse squeaked loudly and Draco immediately broke the
spell. A landslide of guilt washed away the anger so easily as his eyes locked on the small
creature jerking inside of the box. His eyes watered and his hand dropped the wand without
meaning to. The wand clattered against the wood but he barely noticed due to the buzz
assaulting his hearing. He was shaking hard.

He felt utterly like shit. He couldn’t believe he’d just hurt an animal for the sake of it. He
genuinely didn’t think he would never be able to cast the spell and so they’d leave it and
move on to something else. Never did he picture himself succeeding. The level of hatred he
needed to gather to succeed was phenomenal and he genuinely didn’t think he had it in him.
Except he saw it himself that he had it in him and it terrified him.

He was also stuck with all the memories he had to push to the surface and now he couldn’t
breathe. A treacherous voice reminded him his father cast that spell too and that he hurt
people just because he could. Because he was a vile man serving a bigger evil. And Draco
couldn’t help but think he was like that too, or at least that he was becoming that too. He’d
just done the exact same thing, hurting an innocent creature just because they asked him to.

He gasped loudly which made him look like a fish, desperately trying to breathe. He rushed
to the window and he flung it open before he put his hands on the windowsill, his arms
stretched and his hand firmly planted on the edge as he took a deep breath of fresh air.

He had done it. He’d officially harmed something else, something very alive and innocent
and pure. He felt sick and he felt too much about it to really identify his emotions. A tear
rolled down his cheek and a broken sob escaped him furiously before he took a deep breath
and tried not to cry in earnest. Surprisingly, Bellatrix came behind him and put a hand on his
shoulder as she rubbed it awkwardly in a soothing way.

“It’s alright, breathe. You did it. You cast the spell, you can be proud,” she said.

But Draco felt anything but proud. He wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand and
he tried to compose himself. He managed to stop sobbing after that one sob escaped him and
now he was hissing a breath every now and then as he tried to breathe. He exhaled sharply
and after a few minutes, he managed to even his breathing a bit more. It wasn’t perfect but he
was getting there.

His eyes looked at the horizon and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain in his chest as he
watched the sunset. The sky was beautiful, as expected, but Draco thought it was
outrageously offending to have such beauty on display after what he’d just done.

The door opened behind them quietly as he finally managed to breathe properly. Bellatrix had
stopped rubbing his shoulder at some point and was now leaning against the wall, somewhere
in the room when Narcissa entered shyly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said.

“No, you didn’t interrupt anything. We’re done for today,” Bellatrix said as she waved her
hand dismissively.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“He cast the spell superbly. It was firm and strong. It could have competed with Rodolphus’
strongest curses! He’s going to do well in our rank, I’m sure,” she said. Draco could hear the
smile in her voice and it made him ill, the bile threatened to come out of his mouth.

‘He’s going to do well in our rank’. Draco would rather die. He hated the idea of being a
good death eater. If he were, it’d mean he would be particularly gifted at hurting people and it
just wasn’t who he was. He didn’t want to be that person, the same kind of man his father
was.

“Did he, really?” Narcissa asked, surprised.

Draco glared at her, finally turning his head to send her daggers. He hated her too, right now.
He knew it wasn’t easy for her but it wasn’t for anyone, was it? So why did she choose
Lucius over and over again after he destroyed their lives. After he destroyed Draco’s life. Did
it not matter to her?

Bellatrix seemed to catch the tense feeling in the room caused by Narcissa’s arrival and so
she decided it was better to let them be to discuss. She left the room swiftly while Draco kept
staring at his mother with animosity. Narcissa looked defeated though her eyes shimmered
with something else. It was too unreadable, in Draco’s state, for him to understand what it
meant but he knew it was there.
She took a step forward and opened her mouth to speak but Draco was faster, unleashing the
anger he’d felt earlier onto her. He really needed to stop doing that, however he supposed this
time she deserved it a bit.

“You know, I couldn’t quite believe it when they told me you chose him but then I look at
you and I must say I’m not surprised. When have you ever done the right thing?” he said
lightly, his tone surprisingly softer than his harsh words.

“I know you just experienced something terrible right now so I won’t hold it against you,”
she said, her tone calm and composed. In front of him was standing the same Narcissa she
used to be, when his father was around. Draco’s right eye twitched nervously as he clasped
his hands together so they’d stop shaking.

“Whose fault is that?” he retorted dryly.

“Everyone has to participate to the war effort,” she tried to say diplomatically. Draco’s eyes
widened. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“No, but do you hear yourself?” he asked in disbelief. “What happened to the speeches you
gave me not so long ago?”

She shrugged. “It was before. We were left unprotected,” she explained.

“Because of him! He put us in this living-hell!” he shouted. Narcissa sighed before she cast a
silencing charm over the room. She knew her son well enough to know he wouldn’t stop
there. “You said you’d protect me! You said you’d leave him and then we’d be free and we’d
be safe!” he continued without lowering his voice.

“It is easier said than done, though,” she replied quietly in comparison. “You father always
tried his best to do what had to be done for this family to survive. Maybe have we been
ungrateful,” she said. “He went to Azkaban for us”

“For us?” he echoed harshly, his eyes flashed with betrayal. “I’ve been bitten because of him!
He turned my life upside down! Look what he’s done to me!” he shouted as he lifted his shirt,
showing her the scar Greyback gave him that night in the woods and he had to blink fast to
get rid of the tears welling up in his eyes.

“I know you don’t understand–“ she tried.

Draco snorted bitterly. “Oh but I think I do,” he interjected.

“Do you?” she arched an eyebrow.

“You never planned to leave him. You just wanted to appease me because I was mad at him
for fucking good reasons and you hated that I feel like that! You had a beast under your roof
and you needed to keep it under control!” he accused.

“Maybe,” she began to say carefully before she pursed her lips and paused. “Maybe… Maybe
there’s a bit of that, yes,” she conceded. “But your safety has always mattered to me and I did
plan to leave him”
“Then why not?! What has changed?! I know Sirius offered to help you and now… You
declined! You sentenced me to a miserable life just to stay with him so if you actually care
about my safety, you do a shit job at showing it!”

Narcissa’s hand fell to her stomach as she looked at him with sadness. She took a step
forward and Draco, a step back. He didn’t want her near him. Not right now. He felt too
much. She looked pained but she accepted the rejection with a defeated sigh.

“I can’t leave him,” she said quietly.

“Yes, you made that painfully clear, before,” he spat.

“I love him. I know I said I would leave him but… Have you ever loved someone you know
isn’t good for you but you loved them still? That’s how it is with your father. He came back
to the manor after he escaped Azkaban and he…” she shook her head slightly. “He is
regretful. He really is. And I know he’s still serving the Dark Lord but… Maybe after the
war, when everything will be over… Maybe then we’ll be free,” she whispered.

Draco only stared at her for too many seconds of silence. He was stunned by his mother’s
naivety. He shook his head as he studied her carefully. “You’re stupid if you think that and we
both know you’re not,” he said eventually.

“Everyone can change”

“Lucius can’t!” he growled.

“Give him a chance, he really is sorry,” she pleaded.

“Absolutely not! If he really is sorry then why are you apologising on his behalf? Where is
he, uh?”

“Draco–“

“One of us in this room is a werewolf and yet the monster isn’t the one we could think it is,”
he spat, his eyes locked in hers.

“What? What are you saying?” she looked properly hurt now and Draco didn’t let go.

“I’m saying you made your choice and you didn’t choose me. Now I’m going to make mine,
mother. You won’t like them and you’ll only have yourself to blame for the consequences
they’ll have,” he said before he picked up his wand and walked past her to leave the room.
She followed him.

“Draco wait, where are you going?”

“I don’t want to see you right now. I need to be alone,” he said as he rushed downstairs.

“Draco! No!”
Draco noticed the death eaters weren’t occupying his living-room for once as he walked
through the doors, Narcissa on his heels.

“Please Draco just– don’t go. It’s getting late,” she pleaded.

“I’ll stay at Blaise’s for the night,” he said as he grabbed a handful of powder.

He knew he couldn’t go to Blaise. He was already gone for the break. He quickly made the
list of his friends who remained in England and Pansy came first but he couldn’t go to hers.
He’d been ignoring her for too long, she wouldn’t like it if he just came by like that. He then
thought of Sirius but he didn’t know where he lived exactly so he couldn’t run to his place.
His choices were quite limited.

“You didn’t even tell him you were coming over,” she said.

“Surely that won’t be an issue!” he said before he muttered the first address he could think of.
He kept his voice low so his mother wouldn’t hear it and his name coming out of his mother’s
mouth was the last thing he heard before he was swallowed by the flames.

When he resurfaced, he was in a foreign living-room. He’d never been there before but he
knew she wouldn’t mind the intrusion. She’d given him her address after all.

“Willow? You there?” he called as he walked into the empty house.

He made his way upstairs before he called her name again. Within a second, a wand flew
under his chin and he raised his hands in defence. Willow lowered her wand slowly when she
realised it was just him.

“Why, hello. I didn’t expect you,” she smiled though she looked at him suspiciously. Draco
couldn’t blame her. It was a bit sudden.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect to come either. Do I bother you?” he asked as she came in her room
and he followed her.

“No, of course not. I was just watching TV. Make yourself at home,” she smiled.

He sat on her bed next to her. “Your parents aren’t around?”

“No, they left me the house for the week”

“Oh, great,” he nodded.

“Yeah, they’re visiting my aunt in India,” she smiled.

“Sounds nice,” he nodded. The tears resurfaced as he thought about his own family and he
bowed his head to hide them.

“Draco, what happened?” she asked gently, her head cocked on the side as she tried to meet
his eyes while he looked at his laps.
“I had an argument with my mother. I didn’t know where to go, sorry,” he rubbed his neck
awkwardly. He didn’t think he’d feel so unconfident but he did.

Slowly, she smirked as she checked him out. “And you could use a distraction, isn’t it?” she
asked.

“A distraction?” he repeated confused. He lifted his head and noticed she was smirking
suggestively before she trailed her fingers along his thigh

“Yeah, you know… A very good distraction,” she said as she fluttered her eyelashes
seductively.

Draco blinked at her slowly as he bit his lower lip while her hand slid up his inner thigh. Did
he want to have sex with her?

He wasn’t sure, he didn’t come for that in first place but since she offered…

She was an amazing shag, he had to admit, and he did need a distraction. Besides, it was the
best way to find out if he really was gay, right? This way, he could test Blaise’s theory. He’d
never paid much attention to his thoughts as he went down on her before but maybe he
should have. Maybe it was Potter he thought about all along. He sincerely didn't think Blaise
was right about that, even though he saw the similarities between them both.

He nodded slowly, a bit unsure, before it turned firmer. She smiled and straddled his laps
within a second. Draco’s hands found her waist and he smiled slowly as he smelled the
delicious smell of vanilla filling his nose and distracting his senses from anything else. She
wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together to
feel her warmth against his skin.

Something about her always turned him on quickly. It wasn’t her looks or any other physical
features of hers, really. It was her actions, the way she trailed her fingertips carefully along
his skin, sending shivers down his spine. She was extremely caring and soft and her
movement were always so gentle. She touched him like no one had ever touched him before,
showering him with affection when he was lacking it so damn much. It felt good with her.

They kissed slowly and Draco marvelled at the softness of her lips as she stroked the nape of
his skull gently. His eyes fluttered closed and he enjoyed the kiss as they slowly deepened it,
adding more tongue. It remained gentle and soft, though, nowhere near from their last
passionate intercourse. His hand untucked her shirt from her skirt and he pressed his hand
against the small of her back before he slid it slowly upwards to unclasp her bra.

It was easy, it was natural and after doing it for so long together, Draco didn’t even need
more than his single hand to unclasp it expertly. His fingers brushed her skin along her spine
and she shivered, sighing softly against his lips. He knew how to please her and he knew her
from head to toe, every spots she loved. It was reassuring, somehow.

However, he noticed that he didn’t manage to get it up as he focused entirely on her and on
the things they were doing to each other instead of withdrawing in his head like he often did
– because he always thought too much and strangely enough, he didn’t think at all when he
locked himself away. He just went along with everything and he let the thoughts flashing
before his eyes without ever stopping the flow to linger on one of them.

Willow seemed to feel it too because she nibbled his jaw and his neck more intently as she
rolled her hips against his to trigger a reaction. An image of intense green eyes flashed behind
his lids and he opened his eyes quickly before he tensed up. These eyes were not hers,
definitely not hers at all.

“What is it?” she asked as she pulled away slightly.

“No– nothing, sorry. Keep going,” he said and he tried to stay focus on her as she moved
against him again.

Her breathing fastened slowly as her arousal became more and more obvious. One of his
hand disappeared under her skirt as he caressed the soft skin of her thigh with care. He felt
her lips on his collarbone and he gasped softly when she sucked on his sensitive skin. He felt
himself thicken in his pants and he closed his eyes again.

Just when he grabbed the waistband of her panties, his brain came up with Potter’s bright
smile digging his dimples as he licked his lips, covered in sweat after a Quidditch match as
he lifted the hem of his shirt and he used it to sponge the sweat on his forehead, revealing the
lines of his abs and the thin trail of hair disappeared under his Quidditch gear. He swallowed
as he felt his cock stirring with interest.

His breathing hitched as he tightened his fingers around her involuntarily, digging his
fingertips into her thigh. She sighed contently and she kept moving against him, unfastening
his belt before she opened his trousers. He tried to refocus on her but his brain refused to
think of anything else but Potter and his stupid smile, his stupid eyes and his stupid hair.
Draco wanted to plunge his hand in that messy nest of curls and taste the salt of his skin and
it was at this exact moment that he knew Blaise had been right.

How had he not noticed before? And how the fuck did it take him so long to realise he
wanted Potter so much?

He felt disgusted of his own thoughts for a short moment before he lost himself in pleasure.
Willow’s tongue felt heavenly good on him and since his eyes were closed, his brain
imagined Potter instead of her, his cheeks flushed with arousal. He moaned quietly as he
tightened his hand in her hair. He’d feel bad about that later, he decided.

Right now, he lost himself in the sensation of her tongue swirling on his softest spots and his
breathing got louder, his chest heaved as he tried not to buck his hips, his head thrown
backwards. His eyes rolled back and he finally came in her mouth, barely making any sound.
He tried not to think too much about how bad he wished it was Potter on his knees for him,
swallowing around him.

Thirty minutes later, Willow and he had their heads against the pillows as they panted
heavily. Their skin was shining with sweat and they were swimming in the aftermath of their
orgasm. He couldn’t believe he’d thought of Potter all along. Draco’s eyes were locked on the
ceiling as he slowly realised what had just happened.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his hand stroking mechanically her hair splayed on his chest while she
snuggled against him.

“Mmh?” she asked.

Draco pulled away gently while she shot him a confused look. He sat on the edge of the bed
for a second before he pushed on his feet and walked around the room to gather his clothes.
Once it was done, he put on his pants, his trousers and he pulled his shirt over his head.

“You’re leaving, already?” she asked, disappointed as she put on on oversized shirt which
covered even her thighs.

“I– I don’t know,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

Malfoys don’t stutter, Bellatrix had reminded him. She was right. He was pathetic enough as
it was, he didn’t need to be ridiculous as well. He needed to put his shit together.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat crossed-legs on the bed, pulling the sheets to cover the
top of her legs.

“I think we need to stop,” he said as he sat on the bed. He didn’t dare to look at her just in
case of, maybe she’d see right through him.

“I think you’re right,” she said. “I hoped we could talk about it actually,” she said.

“Wait, really?” he asked surprised, his eyes falling on her finally.

“Yes,” she shrugged. “I think I met someone,” she smiled softly.

“Oh, that’s great!” he gave her smile. “But what was that, then?” he asked as he gestured
between them, confused.

“A nice closure to something even nicer,” she offered with a smile. “Besides, you needed it,
didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. He remained silent for a second before he sighed. “I think I fancy
someone too,” he admitted.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to make a move on her?” she asked.

“I’d rather die,” he deadpanned with a bitter snort. “It’s just attraction anyway, it’s not like I
love her or anything,” he shrugged. “But it doesn’t feel alright to shag you while my mind is
elsewhere,” he explained.

“That’s very nice of you,” she smiled as she squeezed his hand. He gave her a small smile in
return.

“Can we– I don’t know, can we stay friends?” he asked. His tone sounded neutral but he felt
really vulnerable as he asked the question.
 “Of course,” she replied instantly. “We’re friends before anything else, right?”

“Right,” he nodded before he stood up awkwardly. “Well… Maybe I should… Maybe I

should go,” he cleared his voice.

“Or…,” she began slowly, her eyes shining mischievously. “You could stay. I was about to
cook something. Maybe pancakes would be good, what do you think? We could watch a
Disney afterwards,” she suggested.

Draco frowned. “What’s a Disney?”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “Oh my God! I forgot sometimes you have basically zero
knowledge about Muggle things! You’re so going to love it!” she shrieked excitedly.

Draco doubted it but he agreed to stay anyway. That’s how he ended up on her bed, his head
on her laps after they finished eating pancakes, watching The Hunchback of Notre Dame for
the very first time.

He found out it was inspired by a Muggle book written by a French author and it turned out
Willow had the book on one of her bookshelf. She lent it to him without a second thought and
Draco appreciated the distraction. Surely the book would keep him busy at nights when he
couldn’t sleep.

When he fell asleep, he was tensed and anxious and his wand was clenched in his hand, like
every night, despite Willow’s proximity. She didn’t mention it the next morning.

Chapter End Notes

I met so many issues to post this chapter, I had to fix the file three times before it
worked but hey! I made it!
I hope you liked it, see you next Thursday for chapter 30!
 The Wolf's Ballad: Part I
Chapter Notes

Mention of torture (nothing graphic)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sunday 3rd of November 1996.

Alone in his bedroom, bathing in the last rays of sun coming from the sunset piercing through
his window and the ambiance set by the peaceful melody he played, Draco was sitting on a
chair, his cello tucked between his thighs as he let the music vibrating in the air and across
the bone structure of his body.

The silencing charm he cast to keep the dreadful sounds of torture at bay did the job properly
and Draco was entirely isolated with himself and the music echoeing against his bedroom
walls. It felt easy, being here, in the safety of the bubble he created for himself and he wasn’t
afraid of the repercussions his actions could have, for once. At best, it filled Draco with joy
and peace, at worst it made him wince because he missed a note. Nothing dramatic, all in all.

His eyebrows were furrowed softly and his eyes were closed as he was focused on the way
his hands moved on the instrument, making it sing sweetly for him meanwhile he hummed
the tune at the same time he played it. The exhilarating feeling of the music going through his
whole body made him smile stupidly at himself but it was too good to be ashamed.

Draco didn’t think being bitten would led him to this day. He remembered how he’d feel
terrified and violated when he woke up at the shack, back in the days. He thought he’d never
get to feel anything else, after that. But time passed and what he once perceived as a curse
became a blessing, sort of. He still hated many aspects his new condition offered but there
was also a lot of positive things coming out of it. It seemed Remus was right. There were
things to enjoy about being a werewolf.

It took him a long time to understand, even more so to fully believe it but now he was
growing more and more at peace with himself and the wolf he kept hidden inside until the
moon woke him up. Once he set his mind on the idea he was a werewolf, it had been easier to
deal with the knowledge of his condition but he’d never felt so okay with it until now. That
was until he came back from the last full moon and played music again.

He’d been surprised to notice the training he’d done with Remus was finally paying off. Now
he discovered a new way to enjoy music, he didn’t think he could go back to the way he used
to listen to it. He realised the vibrations reverberating in his bones when he played the cello
felt very similar to those he felt in the ground, back in the forest when he practised with
Remus. He had never felt it so intensely before but now, he made a lot of effort to focus on it
so he could feel the music, quite literally.

Since that day, whenever he’d played, he’d been utterly absorbed by the melody and he’d felt
a bit drunk on it, in the most peculiar way. It was hard to explain, to regular people, how that
felt but Draco knew nothing better. It was a bit as though the music animated him, bringing
him alive when he felt the most dead inside. After he came to that conclusion, music
naturally became a refuge after his lessons with Bellatrix. If not for that, he would have
probably gone insane.

His heartbeat synchronised to the music he played as the cello led the dance and his heart
danced along. A few days ago, he realised he could transform the vibrations he heard in the
ground into music, too. He’d wondered how that would sound like and now, he used the
leisure hours he had to play as accurately as possible the vibrations he felt back in the forest.
Today, he wanted to transform the hammering hooves of the deer into music but he struggled
to remember how the vibration had felt, that day.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember. His hands played the music differently but
he barely noticed, too busy trying to find the right frequency. He’d been working on it the
past few days and he was becoming a little obsessed with it. It offered a real challenge and
Draco felt frustrated that he still hadn’t found it. Although, he absolutely loved the idea that
he could put nature into music, quite literally.

As he brushed the strings gently for at least the hundredth time that afternoon, Draco finally
felt it; that similar vibration he once knew as the sound of the deer’s hooves hammering the
dirty ground of the forest. He felt it in his fingertips again except this time it was because of
his instrument. He grinned happily, his eyes still closed and his movements became more and
more frenetic meanwhile passion overwhelmed him.

When he stopped playing, his smile didn’t falter at all but a strand of his hair – which were
back to how they used to look like, that is to say pulled back and glossy because his father
insisted he didn’t look like a peasant but let’s not think about his father right now – fell in his
eyes and his chest heaved as he was left breathless. He laughed in pure delight and he threw
his head back, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

It sounded beautiful and he was responsible for that. He couldn’t believe it. He let go of the
cello when he stood abruptly to go to his desk. He leaned down on it and grabbed a piece of
paper to write down the notes he played so he could hear the melody again. Now he finally
found it, he wasn’t going to give up on it.

He called that song ‘The Song of the Deer’. The title was scribbled in the corner of the paper,
barely readable. His wrist was moving so fast over the paper he wondered how he managed
to draw the notes properly and yet when he checked the partition, it was exactly like he
played it. His smile only widened.

He pressed the paper against his chest and spun around happily. It might be a bit strange, that
he was so happy because of a simple sheet of paper covered in an incomprehensible language
to anyone who wasn’t a musician and yet it was the best thing he ever did. For the first time
since he saved Sirius from that death eater, Draco really loved being a werewolf.
Music had always been part of him and he couldn’t imagine a better gift than that,
considering how beautiful it had sounded when he played it. He knew he wouldn’t have been
able to achieve this without the wolf within. He almost felt the urge to kiss it as a thank you –
not that he’d ever meet him. If his life had to be turned upside down, at least there was a
silver lining he could hold onto.

He read the partition again to make sure it was perfect – and it was – and then he grabbed his
music stand and placed it in front of his chair before he put the partition on it so he could play
the music while reading it. He intended to learn the song now he wrote it. He felt so happy.

How could he not be? He’d just created something wonderful based on his memory and
lycanthropy and tonight was Sirius’ birthday, which meant he could leave the manor and
have a relaxing evening. It all sounded too good to be true. Especially because Bellatrix had
granted him four days of break so he could enjoy himself.

Apparently, Bellatrix had noticed how upset he’d been after casting the cruciatus curse on
that poor mouse and she decided he deserved a break – probably because he’d been pretty
impressive the first time around. Therefore they spent the past two days working on the
imperius curse, again. Draco could cast it efficiently now and Bellatrix was more than happy
about it but she thought she could push his education a bit further.

She told him she didn’t often teach that to people, and definitely not to anyone who didn’t
prove themselves first but she thought Draco’s magical power was more than enough to
succeed if she tried to teach him. It turned out she was right. Draco could now use the curse
on more than one target. Thus far, he managed to use it on two mice at the same time but
Bellatrix said she’d teach him how to use it on three mice next time because he had the
potential to do it.

Draco didn’t like it very much but it was better than torturing them, he supposed. So he
played along and he paid attention to her classes and he tried his best every time. According
to Bellatrix, he should be able to cast the spell on a bigger target really soon, which seemed
to satisfy her highly. She said he would be a great legilimens if he tried to learn but she also
stated clearly that she wouldn’t be the one to teach him. Draco was grateful, he didn’t want to
have a look at what was inside her head.

Despite he didn’t have to meet Bellatrix for hours each days, Draco didn’t procrastinate.
Indeed, he used the free time he had been given to work on his task. He spent all day working
on it, before he played music. He was supposed to meet with the Dark Lord in a few days and
he didn’t feel ready at all. Hopefully he wouldn’t expect too much from him, at least not
things Draco wouldn’t be able to give him.

To this day, Draco had translated four more runes – or four halves and so, in reality, two more
complete runes – and he knew it was far from being enough. The books available to work
with were lacking details and never went too deep into the subject which meant Draco had to
dig and conclude things on his own. He had no sources to confirm or refute his theories and
he felt like he was digging into it blindly but since he had to do half the work on his own, he
didn’t have much choice and it was exhausting and extremely difficult.

He was getting nowhere fast and it was frustrating.

But for now, he played music and that was all that could matter at the moment. Tonight, he’ll
be with Sirius and Remus and he’d ignore Potter superbly and he’ll have a good night, like
the one he spent with Willow a few days ago. He didn’t want to worry about the task or about
the upcoming meeting he had with the Dark Lord next week. No.

It took him a while but eventually, Draco began to compartmentalise his life like he used to
before and he tried hard to take life one day at a time. He wasn’t always succeeding but
meditating at night before going to sleep seemed to help him achieve this goal.

He felt a bit more serene – though that could as well be Remus’ chocolate since he had one at
least once a day to keep his mind calm and peaceful. To tame his endangering emotions. He
hadn’t thought it’d work, really, but Remus’ advices seemed to help and now he was eating
two meals a day – he often skipped dinner – and he slept five hours at night. It wasn’t
enough, not yet, but it was improving and Draco knew he could thank Sirius and Remus for
that.

As he began to play the song all over again, he felt another vibration rushing from the floor
up to his feet, his legs and his stomach before it reached his chest. Draco winced. It felt like
those didn’t belong to the charming song he wrote and he hated it. He knew it meant
someone was about to interrupt whatever harmony he’d begun to play.

He heard a soft knock at the door and he knew he was right. He sighed as he put the cello
back to its original place and he walked to the door to open it. His mother was standing on
the other side of the door and Draco had to repress the urge to slam it to her face. That
wouldn’t have been very polite. Instead, they stood there, staring at each other though their
gazes told different stories. Draco read regret and sadness in his mother’s meanwhile
Narcissa probably read anger and betrayal in his.

He wished they could go back to how it was, when it was just the two of them while Lucius
was in Azkaban and before the death eaters invaded the manor at all time of the day but it
was wishful thinking and Draco was too anchored in reality to get carried away by his
fantasies and, as sad as it might be, reality was depressing when it came to their bruised
relationship.

He couldn’t see past the choice she made and she couldn’t understand why it pissed him off
so much. She said she understood but it didn’t feel that way and Draco didn’t know how to
talk to her anymore. It felt like it used to be, before his father left them alone – was arrested –
and the pang in his chest made him angry. He was angry because for as long as it lasted, he’d
begun to build a relationship with his mother based on trust and honesty and now… Draco
wondered if she ever meant anything she told him or if it were all just lies.

That was painful.

He wished she’d simply left him alone instead of seeking for his support while Lucius was
away. That way, things would have never changed and Draco wouldn’t have felt hope
blooming and dying hard in his chest, leaving him hurt and sad and betrayed. She stung her
claws in his heart and ripped it off his chest when she picked Lucius over him. It’d felt like
she abandoned him. A week later, it still felt that way except now he was defeated too
because of the pain she caused him.
“Can I come in?” she asked, her tone unsure and fragile.

Draco already didn’t like that conversation and wanted it to end. He looked at her sternly
before he lifted his chin. If she wanted a honest answer, he could give her that. Though
honesty didn’t seem to matter all that much to her lately. His jaw clenched.

“I’d rather not,” he replied.

“Please,” she asked, calmly.

Draco pressed his lips in a thin line but yielded to her request and stepped aside to let her in.
It was his mother after all. Just because things were complicated right now didn’t mean
they’d be like this forever. He didn’t know why he let her in, really, he supposed it was the
ghost of hope he’d seen grow in his chest which convinced him to hear her out.

Maybe she was going to apologise and tell him she hadn’t meant it or maybe she was going
to say she changed her mind. Those things happened, right? Or maybe he was just hoping she
would and it wasn’t going to happen, leaving him once again disappointed with himself and
with her.

“Thank you,” she said as she entered inside his bedroom.

She sat on the couch and Draco closed the door carefully behind her before he checked the
strength of his silencing charm to make sure their conversation would remain private. You
never knew who might listen, in a house full of death eaters.

Draco approached her but at the last second, he decided against sitting by her side on the
couch like they had before and he settled for the armchair, keeping them apart thanks to the
coffee table between them. He folded his legs and he crossed his arms on his chest as he
scowled at her in a very childish way – not because his behaviour was immature but because
he did look like a child all of a sudden and he didn’t know how to deal with the situation,
really.

The silence stretched for far too long because Draco went back to silence and he stood by
that. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just didn’t even know what to say but since he was mad at
his mother, it served his purpose and Narcissa quickly understood he wasn’t going to say a
word until she’d spoken first. They stared at each other for another couple of seconds before
she sighed, resigned.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked.

Draco left her question unanswered.

“I know it hurt you but I did what I had to. Someday you’ll understand,” she said.

Draco snorted and decided he didn’t want to stay still nor silent any longer. It felt like his
body was vibrating with vivid anger and something he kept locked and safe inside just…
unlocked. He didn’t want to stay passive, anymore. He stood up and began to pace the room,
his arms still tightly crossed on his chest as he rolled his tongue along his teeth so he
wouldn’t yell at her.

He didn’t know why he’d even hoped they could fix that. One look at his mother was all it
took before he realised he was still rightfully mad at her and that she wasn’t here to tell him
she changed her mind.

“Draco please… How long do you think this will last?” she sighed.

“Sorry?” he asked, confused. His anger subdued for a second. She had used her ‘mum voice’,
one he hadn’t heard in years and it unnerved him.

“How long are you going to pout about this?”

Draco looked at her in disbelief and he felt the pang in his chest returning furiously, crushing
his heart and hurting him inside as a lump formed in his throat. “Is that what you think I do?”
he asked, his voice even despite the amount of emotions smothering him silently.

“Isn’t it?” she challenged.

“Of course not!”

“It does seem like that to me,” she said as she gave him a stern look. “Don’t you think it’s
time to grow up? We’re in the middle of a war! You may not feel that way yet but we are, the
war has begun and we have to remain united as a family if we want a chance to survive
through it all. No matter how much you hate it, suck it up and behave like the heir we raised
you to be,” she stated.

It didn’t sound like a question nor an order. It sounded like a fact. Her tone remained soft and
gentle despite her words felt like a personal attack. That was one of his mother’s talent. How
did she return the situation he had no idea, but Draco felt like he was being scolded for his
reaction whereas she’d been the one hurting him. He looked at her, unsure what to say. How
did you answer to something like that thrown to your face?

She was acting as though he was being immature and difficult, as though he were the problem
and it hurt. It hurt so bad. He wanted to remind her he never asked for any of this, he wanted
to remind her who his father truly was and that it was definitely not his fault if they were
stuck in his unpleasant situation but Lucius’. He wished he could say something to get her
see sense but the words died on his tongue before he finished to form the sentences in his
head. For the first time since he’d gone mute again, Draco hated it. The disadvantage was
awful.

Get your shit back together, he chastised himself mentally.

He opened his mouth and closed it, deciding he needed more time to collect his thoughts.
Thankfully, his mother seemed to be patient and she granted him the time he needed to come
up with an answer because she could tell he had more to say but he was struggling to do so.
She laced her fingers on her laps and she stared at him while he kept pacing. Eventually, he
stopped and he stood in front of her, though on the other side of the coffee table. He looked as
resigned as she did.

The following words coming out of his mouth were led by the heart and by anger. That
wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it was what had to be said. Ultimately, Draco didn’t regret
it.

“What family is that, mother? We can barely stand each other! We may share a last name and
a face but we’ve never been more than that,” his eyes were locked on the table at this point
and they darted from a point to another as they welled up so his mother wouldn’t notice. He
did feel like a little kid, at the moment, and he hated that sensation overall.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, her hand on her lips. Draco noticed her eyes were
glassy too.

“A family isn’t just a word you throw around when you feel like it, mother. It needs
consistency and it takes efforts like any other relationship for it to be valuable. To make it
work,” he spat the last word harshly. “Blood isn’t everything. Family isn’t supposed to be just
pain. It’s not supposed to feel like an act neither and yet it’s all you have to offer. Because
that’s what it is, isn’t it? An act. We’re not united, we’re broken. It’s hardly the same,” he
scowled at her.

It was painful, really painful, and Draco wished he could just stop talking. He wished his
mother would stand up and leave him alone. He wished he could go back to play the cello in
peace but Narcissa remained on the couch and he kept talking, answering to her whenever
she added something because it was stronger than him and he needed to ease the weight on
his chest. It’s been weighing on him for years now and it was impossible to remain silent now
he began to speak his mind.

“I told you, I tried to protect you and I know I haven’t always been there for you when I
should have but I genuinely believe whatever was broken can be fixed. We could still be a
family, we could be! If only you listen to him and forgive him, we could come clean and be a
real family,” She insisted.

“Who are you to decide whether I should forgive and forget or not? I don’t think it’s a
decision for you to make, mother. I don’t want to forgive him and I’m allowed to. If you want
to move on, it’s up to you. But don’t try to force me to move on too because I can’t. I just
can’t!”

“Have you even tried to forgive him? If only you give him a chance–“

“I gave him more than that!” he shouted, exasperated. “I gave him my life, I gave him my
admiration and I always behaved when he expected me to. I always acted like he shaped me
to act and I never once questioned it! I’ve been his, all my life, and what did I receive in
exchange for my obedience? Nothing if not for ugly scars and a destiny even uglier!”

She pressed her lips in a thin line and stayed quiet for a few seconds while Draco was
burning with anger. Eventually, she spoke again and Draco wished she didn’t.
“Every family goes through tough times. It’s only natural. And it makes sense we hurt each
other from time to time but that doesn’t mean we have to give up on each other,” she pleaded.

“But that’s the thing, mother. I have never caused any harm to either of you. But you did.
And not just from time to time, you hurt me constantly since I’m old enough to know what it
feels like. Just because I’m your son, it doesn’t make it okay to hurt me like you have for
years,” his tone was calmer than before but it carried years of pain that even him could hear.
Surely it didn’t escape Narcissa’s notice.

He met his mother’s eyes with a cold glare because he was stubborn and proud like that but
he had to swallow hard so he wouldn’t break down. Speaking of those things were hard and
putting words on his internal suffering felt both relieving and utterly torturing. He hated the
way it twisted his guts.

This time, Narcissa stood up and Draco hoped foolishly that she would leave, finally. He
made his point, he said what he had to and he felt a bit better. The conversation could end
here and he wouldn’t mind. It wouldn’t feel unfinished despite he had more to say. No, it
would probably feel like closure, at this point. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, really but he
knew what he didn’t want and forgiving his father was at the top of that list. That was a battle
his mother couldn’t win.

Except Narcissa didn’t leave. She walked up to him and she put her hand on his cheek as she
looked at him with sheer sadness glistening in her eyes. Draco hated the sight and among all
the emotions that made him feel, he could feel guilt and sadness on top of anger and disgust.
It was complicated, he was conflicted and he didn’t know how to act around her anymore. He
wanted to pull her to his chest and hug her tight, telling her it’d be alright the same way he’d
done back in the summer but that time was over and it wouldn’t be the same, nowadays. At
the same time he wanted to push her towards the door and watch her leave.

“I am sorry you feel that way. I really am. Perhaps when the time comes, you’ll understand
family is complicated but is worth to fight for it”

“Like you fought for Andromeda? Sirius? Regulus?” he challenged and he almost regretted
the venom sparking in his words when he saw his mother’s pained expression written all over
her face. He didn’t apologise though, because that was the truth and it wasn’t unfair. She kind
of deserved it. She couldn’t pull the family card like that and expect he wouldn’t retort
something of the sort.

“Close family is different. You only have one father and one mother. I have plenty of cousins
and I still have another sister,” she said shamefully. Even to her ears that argument sounded
weak. “You’ll long for the good times we had together, at some point, and you’ll realise how
precious it is. One day, you’ll understand why I’m trying to keep this family together. I
promise, my little dragon,” she said as she stroked his cheek. “You’ll understand”

Draco couldn’t answer right away. She used the nickname he was given when he was a child
and that made him weak. His throat was so tight it felt impossible to speak but thankfully he
managed to get rid of his tears so they wouldn’t roll down his cheeks. That would be
humiliating.
“We’ve never had any good times together, mother, because there’s just no way to enjoy
Lucius’ company for more than five minutes when he acts the way he does. The likes of him
are not made for pleasant family time. Frankly, I’m done playing this game. If you want your
happily ever after with him, then so be it. But don’t expect to have both me and Lucius in this
fantasy of yours because you can’t. At some point, you’ll have to make a choice. Although it
feels like you already did”

When he finally composed himself to reply, his mother was already at the door but she
paused to listen to him, one last time, before she disappeared on the other side of the corridor,
leaving him behind like she did so often. She didn’t even turn around to glance at him,
instead she straightened her spine and Draco saw her wiping the tears off her face. He felt
like shit for making her cry, but he’d meant every words and he couldn’t feel sorry about that.

Once he was alone again, Draco stared at the door with sadness and he refocused on his
breathing to calm it down. It was so loud in the dreadful silence of his bedroom that he
thought he was close to hyperventilate. He wished he could just go back to playing music,
he’d felt so good before she interrupted him for that unpleasant conversation, but his thoughts
were now corrupted by the darkness his life was surrounded with and he couldn’t see past
that. He realised he was shaking slightly when he brought his hands to his face to rub it a bit
and wash away the last remaining proofs of the dried tears spilling from his eyes after his
mother left the room.

He wouldn’t be sad, he decided. That wasn’t his fault, he had nothing to feel bad about. He’d
known for quite some time his father was a piece of shit. It wasn’t new and it wasn’t
surprising either. As soon as he understood that, his reality shifted and he knew one day it’d
cause the disruption of his family. It wasn’t really surprising but it still hurt a lot.

Draco didn’t feel legit to cry over that, though. Unlike a few of his classmates, his parents
were still alive and he didn’t actually have to grieve their loss though it felt like the all-
consuming dark power emanating from the Dark Lord’s presence under his roof had
destroyed their sanity. He had grieved the father he thought he had a while ago, but losing his
mother today to the madness of a man and the cowardice of another made him sick.

Despite they hadn’t always been close all of his life, his mother and he had had a beautiful
relationship but it seemed it didn’t matter as much as he thought it did. Sirius was wrong, it
turned out. Despite she almost died just to have him, he wasn’t the choice she’d make over
his father. She’d always choose him, Draco came to understand. And it hurt.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

It hurt so much he could barely breathe but he had to because Draco was convinced he kind
of deserve that pain for he was about to cause a larger amount of harm to the wizarding world
as he played the Dark Lord’s game. That thought made him sick to his stomach. How could
he allow that? But he knew deep down that he hadn’t been given a choice.

The war had costed a lot to many people already and Draco was just another casualty, except
he had no right to cry for the price his family paid because they were not fighting on the right
side of the conflict and his father caused probably more harm to other people than Draco
dared to admit to himself. He didn’t feel legit to dwell on himself when other people lost
 much more than he did. Besides so far, he hadn’t lost anything, except maybe a part of his
humanity when he’d been bitten but Draco was coming to terms with it. He just knew he
would lose a lot, at some point, and he dreaded it more than anything.

The decisions he was making weren’t matching his family’s ideology and he knew he’d lose
them because of that. It was just a question of when. Although, his mother had been so
supportive to his choices thus far, he never imagined that could change. He never imagined
he could lose her. His thoughts went to Potter as he closed his eyes slowly. He’d lost his
mother because of the madness of that man his father had served for several years. Draco’s
mother was alive and yet, it felt insurmountable to think she could die, too.

He took a deep breath and stopped crying as he moved to his wardrobe and took a bag out to
fill it with his clothes for the night. He was going to leave really soon, after all. His mother
knew he was leaving the manor tonight but she didn’t know where he was going. Draco
didn’t either. He just knew, from the letter he received from Remus a few days ago, that they
were meant to meet in Diagon Alley in two hours.

Draco decided he’d focus on that, for now. He intended to enjoy the night and so he would.
Yeah. That would be fun. It had to be, or else his life was worse than he thought it were and
he wasn’t sure he could deal with another disappointment.

When his bag was done, Draco decided he didn’t want to stay any longer at the manor and so
he walked downstairs to the living-room where Yaxley and Dolohov were drinking beers,
roaring in laughters, their shirts covered in blood. Draco ignored them, he was used to it now.
He grabbed an handful of powder and he whispered his destination, disappearing in the
flames at the sight of the two death eaters he hated the most.

Yeah, tonight would be fun. Anything would be fun in comparison to what he had to deal
with, anyway.

Chapter End Notes

So, this chapter was supposed to be just one but I decided to split it in two instead
because it is very long (around 12k words) and so I thought it'd fit better in two parts.

Anyway, here's Sirius' birthday part one!

Next part is coming next Thursday and it's going to be tooth rooting fluff, I swear. Draco
needs that and I believe we do too. See you next week!
 The Wolf's Ballad: Part II
Chapter Notes

CW Alcohol
CW underage drinking

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sunday 3rd of November 1996.

Diagon Alley was busy. It shouldn’t come as a surprise as it was Sunday afternoon but it still
came as one. Draco could barely see the shops a few meters ahead because of the crowd
clouding the street like a swarm of bees. Most people didn’t notice him which was good but
some glared at him on his way, probably because it was now common knowledge his father
was a death eater.

He got slightly distracted when he walked by a wizard shouting about the Daily Prophet,
unmistakably trying to get people’s attention and attract potential costumers to buy the
newspaper. He was wearing worn-out robes soaked by the rain and eaten by termites in a few
places. The bottom of the robes blanketed the floor and the wizard walked on it as he paced
the street, desperate to grab someone’s attention.

Draco’s nose wrinkled. Even the Weasleys had better clothes.

His first instinct was to make fun of the poor lad clearly drowned in poverty but then Sirius
and Remus came to his mind and he decided he could, perhaps for once, be a decent human
being to someone he had always considered his inferior – and blood had nothing to do with it.
He pursed his lips and fumbled in his pocket, taking his purse out and opening it. His fingers
pushed the little coins around, producing a little tinkling sound as he looked for two gallions.
The newspaper didn’t cost that much, barely four sickles but Draco found himself being
generous.

When he finally managed to grab the money he needed, he put his purse back in his pocket
and he walked to the man. He extended an arm, the money resting in the palm of his hand as
he looked at the man, expecting a reaction. The man stubbornly refused to meet his eye and
when Draco cleared his voice, the man grabbed the newspaper and he took the money
without even glancing at him. That was only when he noticed how much Draco gave that he
finally looked up, surprise colouring his features for a second before it turned into anger.

Oh.

Draco didn’t expect that reaction.

“It’s four sickles,” the man barked harshly, his index finger furiously tapping the sign where
the price was written. Draco gave him a confused look before he composed himself.

“Oh yeah, no. I know. Just keep the change,” he said.

“I’d rather not. Four sickles,” he repeated, his voice not wavering one bit despite his ears
were turning red.

Why was he making it difficult to be nice and generous, for fuck’s sake?! Draco was just
trying to be decent. It wasn’t something he was used to be and he wanted to improve but the
man made it nearly impossible with that bitchy tone and that glare he rewarded Draco’s
behaviour with. Draco wondered if he had offended him somehow. Perhaps he’d triggered
such strong reaction because of something he said?

He really couldn’t understand but since that man refused generosity, Draco took his purse out
again and tidied his gallions to give him the four sickles he was being so uptight about.

The man snatched them from him, almost as if Draco would close his hand around his if he
hovered for too long over his palm. When the man put the money in his own purse, Draco
heard him mumbling something under his breath but he didn’t catch the words.

“Have a good day, sir,” he said as he began to walk away.

He was almost back in the crowd when he heard the man muttering “death eater’s scum”
before he went back to work as though Draco had never existed.

Draco froze for a second, quite shocked of being insulted in the middle of the street, out of
the blue, for something he was not even responsible for. He’d been insulted publicly before –
mostly by Potter and his fan club – but he always kind of deserved it. This time, it was unfair
and it made his stomach twisting in the worst way.

He didn’t realise until now that Lucius’ behaviour could have consequences on him outside
of the manor, consequences people could see and provoke. He didn’t realise it was that bad,
to be Lucius’ son. After the trial, people had begun to eye his mother and him weirdly when
they went to Diagon Alley, earning themselves nasty look as they walked in the street, but he
supposed it was fair since the trial was fresh in everyone’s memory and all.

Never did he think it would stick with him, ruining his reputation and possibly his life
because of prejudices people held against the whole family. Death eaters were unforgivable in
people’s opinion – which was more than fair – but the thing is they also hated anyone
associating with them such as their families and friends – even if they hadn’t been talking in
years.

That wasn’t right but people were vindictive and death eaters caused so much harm to the
wizarding world and its people that no one really cared whether it was fair or not. Draco
couldn’t really blame them. He couldn’t look at his father the same anymore either. And his
mother expected him to forgive his father just like that… Draco would never. He couldn’t.
His jaw clenched before he began to walk again, the newspaper crumpled in his hands, his
grip too tight around the paper. He sighed, his breath turning into smoke in cold air as it
disappeared in the sky to meet the clouds before he smoothed the newspaper and tucked it
under his arm. He’d throw it away at first occasion but for now, since he couldn’t see a bin
anywhere, he kept it here.

He didn’t even want it, in first place. He just wanted to help that man. What a stupid idea!

That was really a shit day.

Since the encounter with the man didn’t go well, Draco thought it was safer to hide his
blonde hair under the hood of his robes, just in case of somebody else spotted him in the
crowd and decided to share their affection and respect with him.

His hair was so fair in such an uncommon way it was recognisable by anyone as a Malfoy’s
feature and right now, he wished he could be anything but a Malfoy. He’d never been so
ashamed in his life before.

As he pushed the door of the Leaky Cauldron, Draco scanned the room, expecting his eyes to
meet with Remus’ dirty blonde curly hair or even the silver of an old scar scraping the flesh
of his neck, anything really to indicate Remus was there. But when his eyes stopped
travelling through the room for the second time, he knew Remus wasn’t there yet.

The door closed behind him and he walked in the pub which was overcrowded at this hour of
the day. It wasn’t even that late yet but people enjoyed a beer with friends and colleagues
before going back to work the next day. Draco picked a wooden table in front of which were
two stools, one for him and one for Remus, when he’d arrive.

Perfect. Now, he just had to wait.

An old house elf approached the table to take his order. He had white hair coming out of his
ears and his nose but not one remained on his skull, shining like a meteor under the golden
lights of the candles suspended over the room on a old rotten chandelier. The elf looked
exhausted. Draco almost wondered if he was going to die on spot, his tiny lanky legs looked
like they could barely hold the weight of his body without breaking let alone the addition of
the trays of glasses he carried all around the room.

But the little elf came back to him within a few minutes with a glass of Butterbeer with extra
caramel and he looked very much alive, walking around with vigour and energy. Draco didn’t
glance twice at him before he humidified his lips with envy, his eyes locked on the drink. He
had developed a sweet tooth since his mother finally let him have sugar and it seemed he
couldn’t get enough. He was spending so much time sucking on lollipops he had to carefully
brush his teeth so he wouldn’t develop cavities.

He took a sip so ridiculously little that he barely had any liquid in his mouth but he hummed
happily anyway. He took just enough to taste how the extra sugar felt on his tongue and he
wasn’t disappointed at all. It was delicious.
The cream coating even the rim of the glass left a moustache over his upper lip which he
wiped discreetly with his sleeve. He didn’t need to embarrass himself further more, he had
been through enough embarrassment for a lifetime. He chased the thought away with another
sip, though this time he didn’t just wet his lips, he actually drank off it.

His throat surprisingly burnt and his eyes widened a bit. He’d recognised the delicious burn
of alcohol anywhere though he’d never actually taste it in his Butterbeer before. Mrs
Rosmerta always gave Hogwarts students free-alcohol Butterbeer since they were underage.
He supposed the hood he kept on his head hid his identity and his age quite well.

Perhaps even too well. What if Remus didn’t see him?

His fears were swept away by the wind rushing into the pub when the wooden door creaked
as it opened, letting a tall, thin man entering inside. Draco looked up and saw Remus closing
the door behind him, red reflects in his hair as the sun stirred through the entryway to light up
the curls bouncing on top of his head. He had a new scar above his eyebrow, Draco was sure
he’d never seen it before today and he frowned. He thought Remus only hurt himself during
full moons, turned out he was wrong about that too.

Today really wanted to prove him he knew shit.

He watched as Remus made a sign with his hand to the barman, probably ordering something
silently like a secret code only them knew. Perhaps he was used to come here. When Remus
had a glass between his hands, he made his way to the table Draco kept for them. He was
wearing an old cardigan with old-fashioned patterns which made him look like a grandpa.
Draco smirked at the thought. It was more endearing than he wished.

“Hello,” Remus said as he sat in front of him. “Have you been waiting for long?”

“No,” he said as he brought the glass to his lips.

Remus eyed him curiously, as though he expected Draco to say more. He didn’t.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good”

Remus hummed before he took a sip of his drink. “Not very talkative today, are we?” he
teased gently as he put the glass down on the table. Draco sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

“I– It’s just… Let’s say I had better days,” he sighed defeated.

“That bad?” he arched an eyebrow. Draco nodded. “Well, let’s hope you’ll enjoy yourself
tonight,” he said with a smile.

“Speaking of tonight, I didn’t buy a gift for Sirius,” he said, looking into Remus’ amber eyes.
“I didn’t know what he’d like”

“We could find something for him before going to the party, what do you think?”
“Yeah okay,” he nodded before he sipped a bit more of his glass.

The cream blanketed the walls of the glass with little bubbles, pulled towards the bottom of
the glass by gravity. Draco looked as the bubbles popped silently, sliding back to the bottom
meanwhile Remus drank his own drink.

“I like this place,” Remus said. “It reminds me of the dwarves tavern from the Lord of the
Rings”

“The what now?” he asked, confused.

“You don’t know what it is?” Draco shook his head and Remus smiled. “It’s a muggle fantasy
book, one of the best thing ever written in my opinion”

“Oh. I never heard about it,” he shrugged.

“I’m not surprised,” he smiled and Draco gave him a tight smile in return. “What happened to
your hand?” Remus asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“What happened to your eyebrow?” he shot back, crossing his arms on his chest defensively.

He definitely wasn’t going to tell Remus he cut himself on a mirror he exploded in a fit a few
days ago. That would be embarrassing. Fortunately, Remus seemed to be amused by his
answer rather than offended and his lip stretching upwards as he locked his gaze with Draco.

“Fair enough,” he said, his eyes glistening mischievously.

“So,” he cleared his voice. “Who’s going to be there tonight exactly? You never told me”

“I suppose it’s true, but don’t think we purposely avoided telling you. It’s not what
happened,” he said. Draco nodded, asking him to continue. “So, tonight it’s going to be us, of
course, James, Regulus, Harry and a few old friends from school and that should be it. I
believe we’ll be something like… ten?” he said before he counted on his fingers, his lips
moving without making a sound. “Yes I think that’s it,” he nodded.

“Old friends from school, uh?” he arched an eyebrow, wary. “Does that mean I’ll be the only
Slytherin partying with a bunch of Gryffindors?”

“Technically, no. Reggie will be there, remember? Besides one of our guest is from
Durmstrang,” he smiled.

“Durmstrang?” he echoed, startled. “I didn’t know you knew anyone from that school”

“We don’t. I mean not really, we met him like twice but Sirius and Regulus knows him well
enough. He’s a good friend of their family,” he said.

“I wonder why,” he mumbled, his thoughts immediately going to dark magic. The Black
family was known for its interest in dark arts, after all, and so was Durmstrang. Remus
chuckled and shook his head.
“No pup, it’s not like that,” he smiled. “Akos is not a dark wizard. Sirius wouldn’t be friends
with him otherwise,” he said.

Draco hummed and nodded curtly. “I guess we’ll see,” he said as he downed his glass in one
swing.

They spoke some more but they kept the conversation light. At some point, Draco relaxed a
bit and even allowed himself to genuinely smile. Remus paid for their order when they asked
for another round and they left the pub thirty minutes later.

Draco had been surprised at first when Remus dragged him out of the Leaky Cauldron by the
exit leading to the muggle side of London. He should have known Sirius wasn’t hiding in the
Wizarding World – it would have been too easy to find him otherwise – but he hadn’t
considered the fact Sirius and Remus were living among the muggle either. It just never came
to his mind.

London was busy and loud, there was so much noise it was deafening for someone like Draco
who had never crossed the town by feet. It was strange, walking among the muggles as
though they belonged to the same world. He couldn’t believe people living on this side
ignored what magic was and were walking by two werewolves without even knowing.

It felt surreal.

Remus took them to the closest public toilets and pushed Draco inside one of the cabin. He
entered in with him and Draco shot him a confused look.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Robes are not exactly discreet here, people are looking at you like you’re an alien,” he said
matter-of-factly.

“I don’t have any other clothes,” he replied, offended. “Maybe those muggles should be the
one ashamed of their outfits. Have you seen how they dress?” he wrinkled his nose.

Remus chuckled. “You shouldn’t make fun of them so fast. I brought muggle clothes for you
so you could change into something decent. What are you wearing under the robes?”

Draco frowned before he unclasped his robes and took them off, revealing the puffy-sleeve
shirt he was wearing. The unique sleeve covered his left arm, this way he could still stick his
wand up his shirt and make it slide to his palm easily, just in case of, leaving his right arm
completely naked. A black dragon leather corset hugged his silhouette tightly, the silky laces
tied in his back.

“Is this too inappropriate for muggles?” Draco asked, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“Probably but you can keep it, just put that jumper above,” he said as he took a small bag out
of his pocket. He turned it back into its original size and he fumbled a bit to take the jumper
out.

“As long as it’s not the same as yours,” he muttered before he pursed his lips.
“Oi, I heard that,” Remus scolded gently before he shoved the jumper to his chest. “Put that
on. It’s Sirius’ so it should be to your taste. Well, more or less. I don’t know I mean you both
dress like purebloods so… Whatever, just put it on”

Draco sniggered. Listening to Remus rambling was far too fun but he did take the jumper in
his hands and he did as he was told, putting it on. He smoothed the fabric with his hands and
he looked down at himself. He didn’t have to do much though because as soon as it met his
skin, the jumper stretched to fit his body.

The fabric was a deep purple and Sirius’ constellation was sewed on the sleeves. On the back,
there was a big black dog printed. It looked like it was running. Despite the jumper had
clearly been made for Sirius, he couldn’t imagine him wearing that.

“Did he actually ever wear it?” he asked, a laugh coming out of his mouth before he could
stop it.

“You’d be surprised,” he smirked. “Andy offered that jumper to him when he was like
twelve. He wears it when he stays home nowadays but he used to sleep with it,” and as he
explained, Remus’ smirk turned into a fond smile. Draco thought it was sweet, the way they
loved each other.

After they left the toilets, Remus took him to a music store. Draco knew Sirius and Remus
were fond of music and he beat himself up for not thinking about it before, when he’d been
struggling to find a proper gift for him.

Realistically, even if he’d thought about it, there was no way he could have leave the manor
without his mother noticing and sneaking in a muggle music player or a vinyl or whatever
muggle objects in his house under the nose of death eaters wouldn’t have been smart. He
wouldn’t have known what to buy anyway. Now, Remus was there and with his help he found
something Sirius would like. It was for the best things happened this way.

After the music shop, Remus insisted they went to a bookshop nearby because he wanted to
buy himself a new book. They spent almost a hour in the shop because Remus couldn’t help
himself but reading every single one back cover coming near his hand.

At some point, Draco leaned against one of the shelves and waited until he was done. From
where he was, he spotted a book Pansy could have liked and his heart ached. He missed his
best friend so much.

He hesitated for a long time before reaching out and putting the book onto the pile of books
Remus chose. Remus eyed him curiously, intrigued by the choice of book he made but he
said nothing. Draco only rolled his eyes and paid for the book. He didn’t know when he’ll be
able to give it to her, but he knew he would eventually.

See the thing is Draco really wanted to make amends. He wanted to grovel back to her, crawl
to her feet and kiss her toes and apologise to her so she’d take him back and they’d be best
friend like they’d been forever but as he let it drag in time, Draco felt stuck like a fly in a
spider web.
He had no idea how to make this better, he had no idea how to fix all the weeks he spent
away from her, hiding from her, ignoring her, hurting her and now it felt like it was too late.

At first, he ignored her in June because her energy irritated him and then there had been the
whole death eater thing. Now? Now he was just too scared to beg for forgiveness because if
he tried to apologise and she rejected him, it’d hurt ten times worse than if he didn’t try at all
and left things this way.

Schroedinger's cat.

As long as the box remained closed, they were both fine and utterly broken. Opening the box
and poking his head to see what it kept hidden would cause more harm and Draco wasn’t sure
he was strong enough to handle it. But that was how he felt right now, perhaps he would not
feel that way tomorrow. Maybe he’d apologise tomorrow.

Maybe.

And so he bought that book based on that silly hope that one day he’ll give it to her.

A few moments later, his eyes caught sight of that book Remus told him about earlier and he
bought it while the other man had his back turned on him, reading the back cover of another
book. Draco had no idea when he’d be able to read it but if the Lord of the Rings was as good
as Remus said, he had to try it.

“Alright, now we can go to the party,” Remus said as the bell of the book shop rang when
they closed the door behind them.

“Lead the way,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his trousers as he wore a bored
expression on his face, the books he bought thrown in a tote bag he bought in the shop.

Remus dragged him into an empty alley and hid them behind the bins. Draco took advantage
of the oddity of the moment to get rid of that stupid newspaper he’d been carrying around for
a few hours. Remus looked at him with a weird expression on his face and Draco didn’t like
it already and so he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Look, I really don’t want to do that but Dumbledore thinks–“

“Dumbledore? What does he have to do with anything?” he frowned, finally asking the
question which had burnt his lips the first time it had come up.

Remus scratched his head awkwardly. “Well… Let’s just say the place we’re hiding is not
only our secret to tell,” he said as an explanation. Draco’s eyes narrowed even more.

“What are you not telling me, Remus?”

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he promised. “But as I was saying, Dumbledore agreed
you come to ours under some conditions,” he continued.

“How generous of him to allow me to come to your house,” he rolled his eyes. Remus gave
him an unimpressed look and Draco sighed. “Fine. What are his conditions?” he cocked his
head like an arrogant prat and he knew he looked like one but he couldn’t help it. It must
have been genetic or something.

“I have to cast a few spells on you, nothing damaging don’t worry. Just a confusion spell and
a blinding spell. Oh and of course a sensory spell, to dwell your senses”

“But you said the house was under the fidelius charm,” he protested.

“It’s just a few more protective measures Dumbledore demanded we take,” he sighed and
pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I’ll understand but
you won’t be able to come with me if you don’t consent to this first”

Draco swallowed bitterly. He should get used to it right now, being the enemy was something
he was becoming. “Okay, if it is what it takes,” he exhaled.

He was not comfortable at all with the idea of being under someone else’s spell but it was
that or going home and truthfully, he’d take being bewitched over home any days lately.
Also, it was Remus we were talking about, he could trust him.

The man saved him multiple times by now. He would not hurt him. Still, despite he tried to
reason himself he could not bring himself to relax. His body went rigid and he began to shake
slightly.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his wand in his hand. “You don’t have to–“

“No, I know but I do want to. Just let’s get this over with,” he sighed.

His heart was hammering in his chest and he knew Remus could literally hear it. Doubt
crossed Remus’ face as he scratched his head again. “I… I don’t feel comfortable with that, I
mean you literally spent moments alone with Sirius and you never told anyone where he
was,” he swallowed.

Draco rolled his eyes. How could that grown man be more nervous about him losing control
over his senses than Draco was?

“Remus stop. Just do it. The quicker you do it, the quicker it’s over so just cast the spells
already!”

“I’m just saying it’s ridiculous. We do trust you,” he said.

“And is that enough?” he challenged. “No, because Dumbledore doesn’t”

“No, he doesn’t,” he sighed before he tightened his grip around his wand. “Alright, we’re
almost there anyway so it won’t last long. As soon as we’re inside I’ll let go of the spells,” he
promised. Draco nodded.

Remus lifted his wand and Draco closed his eyes as he waited for the spells to be cast. He
didn’t hear Remus pronouncing any words but he felt it: three different spells hit him almost
at the same time, barely a nano-second apart from each others. He didn’t feel any different at
first, until it finally hit him.
His ears were buzzing in the most uncomfortable way and everything felt like it spun except
nothing moved. In front of him, there was nothing to see but a kind of a big grey clouds
obscuring his sight. He couldn’t smell anything neither, not even the smell of the cars passing
by and it was the strangest feeling ever, being deprived of all of his senses.

“We’re going to apparate,” Remus warned him. At least, he thought it was Remus – who else
would say something like that in the middle of a muggle alley? Yes, it definitely was Remus
except he didn’t sound like he usually did, his voice was deeper, robotic in a scary way.

It was so disturbing, especially because he couldn’t see anything to check it really was him.
He could do nothing but trust him through and through and it was such a foreign concept.

Despite the lack of senses, Draco felt Remus before he even touched him, his instinct
warning him of the intrusion in his personal space. He gasped at the weirdness of the feeling,
his brain providing him a mental image of Remus’ movements around him before he even
acted.

It was terrifying and extremely cool, both at the same time. Terrifying because it felt like he
was trapped in his own body with no way to communicate with the outside world and cool
because he knew it was his instinct developing days after days.

Remus’ hand closed around his arm and Draco felt like something tugged behind his navel,
transporting him somewhere else. He didn’t feel like he apparated because he felt no
difference between the moment he did, the before and the after. When they landed, Remus
didn’t let go of his arm and despite Draco stumbled forward, his brain still came up with a
visual representation of the road he was taking.

There was no sky, no houses, none of that, it wasn’t that precise. There was no details. He
just saw a white path with blurred lines and things were added to the image he had as he
moved. For instance, his brain came up with the stairs before Remus even warned him there
were some ahead just because of the vibrations he felt reverberating in his bone structure as
the bugs crawled on the floor.

He’d never felt so connected to the wolf before but it felt like he could feel it growling inside,
leading him on the way he burrowed into blindness. Draco knew it was sleeping within and
he knew it woke up once a month but never in the time he spent with that knowledge did it
ever feel so concrete.

There was a sleeping animal within! A real one!

And that animal was currently guiding him like a protector. That was the most powerful
experience he ever get to live and he kind of felt grateful for Dumbledore’s stubbornness and
wariness as it permitted him to live something so intense. He felt totally at ease with Remus
by his side now he knew the wolf was there too, protecting him from inside.

His feet danced along the wolf’s ballad as it sang along to the melody of the path he should
follow.
Although, before he even knew, it was over and he almost felt like crying in frustration, eager
to have that connection back. When Remus freed him from the spells he cast, Draco found
himself inside of a big dark house. It looked old and the magic seeping from the walls was
the last reminiscence of the great power the Black family once owned.

Grimmauld Place.

He’d only ever saw it in pictures but it definitely looked the same as when his mother was
young. It was unmistakable.

He blinked a few times, quite blinded by the sudden light after being stuck in darkness for the
past ten minutes. He spotted Regulus sitting by the fireplace, a glass of water in his hand.
James was behind the bar, pouring drinks in glasses for the guests as he laughed with Sirius
about something.

Then Draco saw a face he didn’t know. A tall man with dark straight hair walked to the couch
and began speaking with Regulus – he supposed it was Akos. Finally, his eyes spotted him.
On the other side of the room, around the table, was sitting Potter and Lovegood.

He didn’t even look at him, he refused. Especially after the last revelations he had. He’d
rather stab himself with a fork than talking to him, looking at him or even breathing in his
way. He looked at Remus instead. He wanted to share with him the experience he’d just
lived. Maybe he’d know what it means. He decided against it, he’d talk about it later. Instead,
he said something else entirely.

“Where do I put my bag?” he asked.

“Come with me upstairs, I’ll show you your room,” he smiled.

He nodded and followed him upstairs. As he did, he felt Potter’s eyes digging holes in his
skull. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he was fine with it. Potter could stare all he wanted,
he wouldn’t care. He even repressed the urge to scowl back at him.

Draco considered it was a victory.

Draco 3 – Potter 1.

As long as he kept winning, Draco didn’t mind Potter won once with that stupid stunt he
pulled to get his cloak back. Even he had to admit it was brilliant. He refocused on the
current situation when Remus took him to the third room on the right. It was spacious but too
empty for the space available. There was only a bed and a wardrobe.

“I suggest you don’t open the wardrobe, there might be a boggart in there. We don’t often
come here,” he said when Draco glanced at him.

“I can tell, it’s depressing,” he snorted.

Remus chuckled. “I suppose it is. I don’t like it neither”

“Why don’t you redecorate the house if you hate it?” he asked, surprised.
“I don’t know. It’s Sirius’ and he has quite the history here. I don’t think it’s my place to
suggest such thing. If he didn’t do it himself, I guess it’s because he wants it to remain like
that”

“Did you ask him?”

“Well, no. But he would’ve said so, wouldn’t he? He’s the type of person to voice his
opinion”

Draco shrugged. “If you say so”

Remus frowned slightly before he walked to the door. “I’ll let you settle. Come downstairs
when you’re done,” he said before he left.

Draco didn’t even answer, he just put his bag in a corner of the room and took the jumper off.
He put it on a hanger and he let it hanging off the doorknob of the wardrobe. Then, he looked
at himself in the mirror. He dropped his wand in his hand and, after a quick spell, he looked
at his hair falling down in waves on his forehead, released from the pull it’d been contained
in all day. He sighed, satisfied.

Tonight, there was no reputation to uphold. Nothing to be ashamed of. Tonight, he decided
he’d have fun and so he would. He wouldn’t be the perfect pureblood or the disciplined heir
of the Malfoy family. No, for once, tonight he’d just be Draco because he trusted Sirius and
he felt comfortable with Remus and they were the reasons he was here.

Everyone else could screw themselves – especially Potter – he didn’t care about the way
they’d look at him. And Potter could go fuck himself if he dared to break a fight because
Draco would not take the bait. Though, with his father around he supposed Potter would
behave. Draco would, if Lucius was there.

He eyed his robes with hesitation. He did look good with that shirt on but he still felt too
insecure about his weight to put himself on display. However, the robes looked too formal
and he was there to have fun, didn’t he? He wasn’t sure what to do. He could just take them
off after a few drinks, when he’d be confident enough not to care about his appearance.

Yes, he’d do that.

He came downstairs a few minutes after Remus. He walked to the bar where Sirius and
James were still making drinks and laughing. Sirius had him locked in a tight embrace as
soon as he noticed his presence. He already smelled like alcohol but he supposed it was fair
since it was his birthday.

“Mph,” Draco said as his head was buried in Sirius neck. He pulled away a bit to readjust his
position and he hugged him back. Sirius smelled, in fact, like a whole bucket of alcohol
already. “Hello, happy birthday,” he said.

“I am so glad you came!”

Draco chuckled. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” he breathed before he pulled away. “But I thought you’d chicken out”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah because I do that very often”

Sirius gave him a glass and Draco took a tentative sip. It was fruity but it didn’t taste like
alcohol. He’d have to rectify that as soon as possible.

“From what I heard, yes,” Sirius gave him a cheeky grin before he nodded towards Potter,
referring to him as the source of that information. Draco groaned.

“My name rolls off his tongue way too often!” he complained before he took another sip.

“I’m sure it’s not what he’d like to have in his mouth,” he said casually as he poured himself
another glass. Draco choked on his drink.

“What?!” he croaked.

Sirius burst into laughter. “Oh fuck, sorry it sounded worse than it did in my head,” he was
almost bent in two as he held his stomach, wheezing as he looked at Draco’s horrified face. “I
just meant to say that he probably doesn’t enjoy talking about you neither, he just thinks
something’s wrong with you”

“That– that isn’t helping at all,” James laughed. “Pads you should shut up now”

“Yeah I definitely should,” he wiped a tear off his eye.

“Drink that,” James said as he shoved a glass in Sirius’ hands. “Tell me what you think of it. I
called it Dragon’s Breath!” he grinned.

“Spicy,” Sirius smirked. “Let’s see what it’s worth,” he downed the small glass in one
swallow. He burped and a few second later a flame came out of his mouth as he blew out. He
grinned even more. “I want another one!”

“Prongs don’t! You’re going to burn down the house,” Remus chastised.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. I know by experience the house will be fine,”
Regulus said as he walked up to the bar with the stranger he’d been talking to.

“What was that drink?” the man asked with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Something I made up. Dragon’s breath, I called it. Want a taste?” James grinned.

“Dragon’s breath? I’d be mad to say no,” he smiled as he took a step forward.

Draco’s breathing hitched when he finally got a proper look at the other man. His eyes were
so strange, and not in the same way Draco’s hair colour was uncommon. No. He literally had
the eyes of a dragon.

The pupil was vertical and thin and his lids closed and opened like a dragon did. The pupil
was surrounded by an ocean of orange water caught in the storm, streaked with yellow shades
looking like small lightning bolts. Draco had seen uncommon eyes in his life – León for one
– but they never looked that peculiar.

The man’s mystery wasn’t only residing in his strange eyes but in his whole appearance. His
hair was slightly longer than Sirius’ but definitely straighter and probably as dark as the
Potters’. His eyes were highlighted by his almost-immaculate olive skin which caught the
light like a predator caught a prey. His charisma made it hard to look away. His sharp jawline,
which Draco was sure could rip through the air, couldn’t even be hidden under that neat beard
he wore, as dark as his hair.

He had a threatening aura and he looked quite dangerous, that effect being accentuated by a
burn scar going from his forehead down to his neck. It was a thin line mostly with two bigger
spots: on the eye and in the neck area where there was no healthy skin left on the left side at
all.

Runes were covering his limbs like a second skin. There was some on his neck, under his ear,
some on his forearms and shoulders, some on his hands and there was another pack of runes
tattooed along his collarbones, joining the ones on his shoulder.

Draco was quite fascinated, he wanted to know that man’s story. He seemed absolutely
amazing. But for now, he contented himself with watching him drinking that drink James
made as he blew an impressive flame which ridiculed Sirius’ by far, like he was used to do
that. Everyone clapped and the man laughed and bowed exaggeratedly.

“Show off,” Sirius mumbled playfully.

“What can I say? Not everyone has the stomach to deal with dragons flames,” the man
grinned.

“Any news from Aniko?” James asked to the man after everyone went back to their own
business. The man’s face darkened.

“Not yet. I don’t lose hope though”

“Who’s Aniko?” Draco whispered to Sirius since he was the closest to him.

“Akos’ dragon. She’s been captured by the British ministry during the first war and he’s
never found her again,” he explained, his voice low.

“I thought it was impossible to domesticate a dragon?” Draco said, definitely impressed as

his eyes locked on the man. He did look strong but was that enough to domesticate a dragon?
He wasn’t sure.

“Oh and she’s not any dragon,” he whispered in confidence, his eyes glistening with
mischief. “She’s a Hungarian Horntail!” he smiled.

“Wait he tamed that thing?” he gasped.

“Oh, he didn’t have to,” he smirked. “See, Akos is from a very ancient family from eastern
Europe and dragons are their pets or something. When one of the member of his family is
born, a dragon egg cracks somewhere in the world at the same time and they’re tied by an
unbreakable bond. However, from what he told me, the dragon won’t come out of its egg
until it’s found by the human it bonded with”

“It sounds crazy! So he’s just… What? A dragon whisperer?” he snorted.

“Sort of,” he smirked. “He’s been bonded with Aniko since he was born but he met her only
later in life. That didn’t stop him from using her magic and pouring a bit of his into her to
heal her, help her and empower her sometimes too. He had a total control over her though he
always insisted it was not a domination relationship between them, they’re equal”

“I didn’t know such things exist”

“Of course you didn’t. Britain is quite narcissistic, we never care about what other countries
do with magic because we’re convinced we have the only right way to use it,” he shrugged.

“What happened to Aniko after the ministry captured her?” Draco asked.

“They probably killed her or enslaved her because her species is considered the most
dangerous out of all the dragons. I don’t have much hope to see her again but he never gave
up,” he sighed as he looked at Akos with sadness.

Draco couldn’t blame him, if he had a domesticated dragon, he wouldn't give up on seeing it
again. It was too unique to simply move on, especially since their bond was kind of mystical.
Aniko was a part of him and he was a part of her, it made sense he wanted to find her.

As darkness washed over the country a few hours later, Draco was totally wasted. He had had
more than his fair share of drinks and he was having so much fun. He’d never noticed how
tactile he got while he was drunk but he couldn’t stop touching whoever came to close. He
wrapped his fingers around Sirius’ curly strands and they shoved each other playfully.

Thus far, he’d managed not to look at Potter as he spent the night with Sirius, Remus et
James mostly. At some point, Remus told everyone Mary couldn't make it but Draco didn’t
care because he had no idea who she was anyway. Though, Sirius looked disappointed so
Remus offered to plait his hair and he got excited again. He was easy to content.

Hours after hours, Draco downed glass after glass almost turning it into a competition with
Sirius who had no difficulty to hold his drink. Somewhere between the fifth and the sixth
glass, Draco stopped distancing himself from the other and went dancing along the music like
almost everyone else.

Regulus was smoking in the garden, Potter made Luna spin on her heels as she laughed,
James was busy with the music and Sirius was dancing on the table. At this point, everyone
was a bit drunk except for Regulus who hadn’t drunk anything but water all night.

Sirius was desperately trying to find someone to dance with him but Remus refused every
time. He’d rather lean against the bar than dancing. Since he couldn’t go to James, he tried to
make Potter dance with him but as expected, he couldn’t put a foot in front of the other
without stumbling, especially because he drank too.
Draco took pity on Sirius and walked up to him. He was loosening up with alcohol and that
felt good because he felt like he truly belonged for once, when it had been awkward at first.

“You wanna dance with me?” he asked Sirius who immediately lit up and nodded.

He watched as Sirius went back to the table and moved his hips to the beat of whatever
muggle song was playing. Draco wished he knew, it sounded really good. Since he didn’t
have the choice, he got up on the table too and took his robes off before he discarded them
somewhere in the room. Sirius whistled cheerfully and he heard Remus chuckling
somewhere near the bar.

“That shirt looks good on you!” Sirius complimented.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “I’m rebelling!” he laughed.

Draco had never thought he could be so cheerful with everything that was happening and the
uptight education he’d received but he loved being so carefree and right now, it wasn’t scary
at all. When the song finished, Draco climbed down the table and walked to the bar. Remus
was now talking with Akos as Draco poured himself a glass of vodka with a bit of lemonade
and strawberry syrup. Remus eyed him out of the corner of his eye before he interrupted –
politely – Akos to talk.

“You should try water instead,” he said as he turned his glass of alcohol into water. Draco
gasped.

“Oi! I was about to drink that!”

“Exactly, that’s why you shouldn’t,” Remus said, a little amused smile tugging at his lips.

“I can do what I want!” he slurred. “I’m a rebel!” He said as he raised his arm too abruptly,
spilling half of his drink on the floor.

“No you’re not,” Remus chuckled.

“Of course I am! Can’t you see?” he gave him a pointed.

“Oh. You’re a rebel because you drink alcohol?”

“And I eat sugar!” he grinned.

Remus genuinely laughed at that and Akos chuckled next to him.

“Your eyes are so cool!” Draco trailed the last word as he talked to Akos for the first time.

“Your hair is too,” he said easily. “It’s not white but it’s not blonde either”

“But your eyes are orange!” he insisted.

Akos chuckled again. “Yeah, they are. Well spotted”

“Oh Sirius! You come at the right time!” Remus smiled. “Draco here was telling us he’s a
rebel,” he chuckled.

“I am! I eat candies and I drink alcohol!” he insisted before he glared half-heartedly at
Remus.

“Yeah, I’ve heard he’s in his rebellion era,” Sirius laughed. “Do you know what rebels do?”

“What?” Draco asked.

“They get tattoos!” he said, his eyes widening as he gave him a wolfish grin.

“I should get one!” he nodded.

“No,” Remus disapproved. “You definitely shouldn’t”

“Oh c’mon Moony! Reg and I got our first tattoo when we were fifteen and sixteen!” he
whined.

“Pads, don’t–“

“Someone said my name?” Regulus asked as he came in their back.

“Your brother thinks Draco should get a tattoo since he’s rebelling,” Akos explained,
smirking.

“Are you rebelling?” Regulus asked Draco sternly.

“I eat candies!” he said again, a massive grin on his face. Regulus looked at him
unimpressed. “I drink alcohol too!” he added and this time Regulus arched an eyebrow. “I
swear! And I’m going to cause Voldemort’s–“ Remus put his hand on his mouth.

“Don’t mind him, he’s drunk”

“Did he just say Voldemort?” Sirius asked in disbelief as he looked at Draco as though he’d
grown a second head.

“I think he did,” Remus nodded.

Regulus looked at them, his eyes narrowed but he left it. “Right, so I suppose you’re a rebel,”
he nodded slowly.

“And rebels get tattoos!” Sirius said again, grinning.

“Sirius! He’s too young!” Remus scolded him.

“I was fifteen when I got mine,” Regulus said and Remus gave him a look of betrayal.
“What? It’s true,” he shrugged and Akos burst into laughter this time.

“I want a tattoo!” Draco slurred.

“No you don’t,” Remus said.

“C’mon Moony, let the kid live!” Sirius nudged him playfully.

“Oh and I want to dye my hair too!” Draco added. “I want a blue strand! Or maybe red!”

“Oh this is not happening young man! Your mother is going to kill you,” Remus shook his
head.

“She’s not here, is she?” Draco challenged.

“Yeah, Moony. She’s not here, is she?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows.

Remus sighed. “Don’t dye your hair, at least a tattoo is easier to hide,” he said before he
downed his glass.

“Does that mean I can get a tattoo?” Draco slurred again, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“I’m not your mother,” Remus shrugged. Draco and Sirius both began to shriek in victory
and Remus raised his hand. “But!” he said and they both shut up instantly. “I still think
you’re too young”

“No one said anything about getting it tonight, Remus,” Regulus reminded him and Sirius
and Draco shared a mischievous glance before they grinned again.

“I need the loo,” Draco said.

“Me too!” Sirius said quickly after.

They both disappeared upstairs before someone could even talk. Remus gave a concerned
look at the spot they just left but he didn’t move since Akos was now talking to him again.

When they got down the stairs fifty minutes later, everyone had almost forgotten they were
even there in first place. Everyone was heavily drunk and was having fun. Luna was now
sitting next to Remus as they talked about something Draco couldn’t hear from where he was
and since his spot had been taken, he decided to sit on the couch instead.

There was no one else here but him.

Regulus and James had disappeared somewhere in the manor, Akos was in the loo and Luna
and Remus were busy talking. Potter was nowhere in sight.

Good riddance, Draco thought at first but then he realised he missed bickering with him and
he kind of wanted to grab his attention by any means since Potter had been nothing but polite
and he behaved all night, leaving him alone. It felt wrong, being in the same room as him and
not interacting. They were always hovering in each other’s orbit, usually.

When Potter finally showed up, Draco decided it was now or never. He waited until he
passed by him and he grabbed his arm, pulling him slightly until he fell on the couch. Since
Potter was drunk, it was easily done and Draco watched as he stumbled and lose his balance
before falling on the couch, by his side.

“Malfoy I–“ he tried to speak but Draco put a finger on his lips and Potter looked at him like
a doe caught in the light of a car.

“Shh. I like it better when you shut up,” he slurred as he draw the shape of his lips with his
fingertips. He could feel his hot breath hitting his skin each time he exhaled.

“Wha–“

Draco pressed his finger harder against his lips and Potter shut his mouth. They looked at
each other for a few seconds before Draco pulled away and sighed, resting his back against
the couch as he slumped down. Potter looked at him with confusion before he hesitantly sat
properly by his side. Draco closed his eyes, they felt too heavy to remain open. He rubbed his
lids and he put his head against Potter’s shoulder, using him as a pillow.

“Why do you always join me in the Astronomy tower?” he whispered, his voice barely
audible above the music, looking a bit vulnerable. He would’ve cared if only he wasn’t that
drunk.

“What do you mean?” Potter whispered too, determined to keep their conversation a secret.

“I know you know I know,” he said.

“Sorry?” he genuinely sounded confused.

Draco groaned before he sat up to look at him in the eye. “I know you know I know you’re
here. I know you want me to react to your presence. What I don’t know is… Why?”

“I don’t want you to react,” he bit his lip, unsure whether he should say more or not. “It’s just
nice, being there with you. I like you better when you shut up too, you know?”

Draco’s hand moved to reach his forehead so he could push that strand of hair falling in his
eyes but his hand stopped before touching his skin and he brushed it shyly instead as he
looked at him intensely, observing every single traits of his face. Potter was really pretty.
How could he be so blind before when he wanted nothing but to kiss him right now.

Kissing Blaise hadn’t meant anything so he still didn’t know if he’d like that, kissing boys
that is, but no matter how drunk he was, no matter that his instincts seemed to wake up with
alcohol, Draco wasn’t completely stupid.

He would never kiss the golden boy. He wouldn’t risk to stain him with his poisoned lips.
Everything he touched turned to dust and Potter was too precious to be wasted away like that.
Not in a personal way – Draco couldn’t care less – but for the outcome of the war.

He noticed his eyes lingered for far too long on those plumpy, extremely kissable lips and his
gaze snapped up to meet his eyes again. That’s when he noticed Potter was holding his
breath. Draco thought his movement had been frozen for long enough and finally, he pushed
away that strand of hair he wanted to see gone so he could admire the sparkling green of
 Potter’s orbs. Once it was done, he brought his hands to his own laps again and he cleared his
voice.

“Is that why you come to the astronomy tower then? Because you like my company but only
when I shut up?” he arched an eyebrow in the most arrogant way he could muster. Potter
rolled his eyes.

“Obviously. What I wonder is why you never said anything if you knew all along that I was
there,” he asked with a smug smile.

“Probably for the same reasons you didn’t”

Potter looked genuinely caught off guard by that answer, he almost flinched. “Oh,” he said.

“Oh, indeed,” Draco nodded.

“Does that mean I can stop hiding under the cloak from now on?” he asked and Draco put his
head on his shoulder again, yawning.

“Do as you please, Potter. Do as you please,” he whispered as he began to fall asleep.

Potter didn’t complain and, after a while, when he thought Draco was already asleep, he put
his head on top of his and whispered softly.

“Goodnight, Draco”

And he did sleep like a baby, that night.

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone! I am back! I'm sorry I disappeared for a while but I needed a break. Just
so you know, you can follow me on Tumblr (@LunardeAO3), I often post updates and
posting schedules and stuff related to my fics.

I can't even begin to explain how excited I am to come back with this chapter! It's a very
important one, a lot of information are thrown around but some of them are going to be
important. It's also an important chapter for both Drarry and Draco! I hope you liked it.

I'm so happy I could introduce you to Akos. He's probably my favourite OC (though he's
more important in Downfall) so I really wanted to include him, especially because of the
bond he has with Sirius and the world building his character brings along with his
personality and his importance for the plot.

See you all on Thursday, take care of yourself!

 The Fiery Fox Returns
Chapter Notes

TW minor character death

Monday 4th of November 1996.

Draco awoke in tangled sheets, his head buried between two pillows as he slept on his
stomach. A thin layer of sweat blanketed his spine. Not that the night had been particularly
hot but it wasn’t surprising that he was, being a werewolf and drinking alcohol did that to his
body.

One of his bare leg was out of the sheet, seeking for fresh air as it was folded towards his
chest and the other one was laying straight against the mattress though his foot was left
uncovered and bare. Only his waist and his arse were covered.

His head was spinning and he couldn’t even remember what happened last night because it
was a blur in his head but he couldn’t help but imagine he probably had a lot of fun. He often
did feel cheerful while drinking. He was glad he didn’t remember though, he’d probably be
embarrassed with himself if he knew half of the things he did under the influence.

He was pleasantly surprised to notice he didn’t feel like throwing up, his stomach as calm as
a calm sea for once. He wasn’t the type to throw up easily, most of the time he didn’t. Or
well, he used not to. Before he was bitten, he hadn’t been sick in years. However, he still
expected to feel ill in the morning because he knew his body tended to obey to the wolf more
than it obeyed to him nowadays.

Despite the lack of sickness, Draco was still very hungover. His headache was killing him
and his head felt too heavy to be carried on his shoulders. His mouth was dry and his tongue
too thick, he wondered how it could rest in his mouth without poking out.

Was his mouth that big?

He groaned as he opened an eye to look at his environment. He had no memories from last
night of him leaving the party and coming back to his room but he must have eventually
because the sight of Sirius’ purple jumper hanging on the doorknob of the wardrobe greeted
him, exactly at the same place he left it the day before.

He groaned again when he turned his head to look at the clock hanging on the wall. The light
rushed in through the window and blinded him almost instantly. It hurt.

“Merlin,” he groaned as he covered his eyes and pushed his head further into the pillows
again.
At least, they were comfortable and they kept the light at bay.

He stretched out an arm and tried to reach for his wand under one of the pillows but he
couldn’t find it here. He frowned. He always slept with his wand, at least he did ever since he
shared his manor with death eaters, so where was it?

He fumbled around the area of the bedside table and his hand knocked a glass recipient on the
side. He lifted his head with difficulty and winced as the light came back full force. Before he
was blinded, he noticed it was a glass of water. Next to it was sitting a hungover potion.

“Remus,” he said and his wince turned into a small smile. “So caring”

He rolled on the bed until his back hit the mattress and he sat up. It took a lot of efforts but he
knew as soon as he’d take the hungover potion, he’d feel better. For now, he downed the
glass of water with one long gulp, flooding his dry mouth. He exhaled contently before he put
the glass back on the bedside table to grab the hungover potion which he drank until the last
drop.

It took a few seconds before the symptoms subdued and a whole minute before his hungover
was completely gone. What a relief! Thank Merlin for whoever invented that thing. They
were a true lifesaver.

He got up from bed and he went to the mirror to make sure he didn’t look too horrible. He
noticed he was half naked, only wearing his pants. His bare chest was on display, showing the
most awful scars his body had anchored in his flesh. He winced again at the sight of his
messy hair. He definitely looked like shit.

He bent down to take his small mirror out of his trunk and he turned his back to the mirror of
the wardrobe. He didn’t want to deal with another body image crisis right now. He was too
exhausted for that, it would end in another self-loathing episode and tears. With everyone
being downstairs, it’d be way too embarrassing. So he decided he’d focus on his face and his
mirror was small enough not to show anything more but exactly that, never showing anything
lower than his collarbones.

That’s when he saw it.

He froze as his eyes widened. His first instinct had been to turn around and check himself out
in the mirror but the massive silhouette of a dragon he saw was tattooed on his spine and so
when he turned around, he saw nothing but his own reflection. He repositioned himself in
order to see his back in the mirror he held and his mouth fell agape.

On his back was tattooed a colourful dragon going from the small of his back up to his neck
where the head of the dragon was. The body of the dragon was covered in some places by
flowers – narcissus. He swallowed harshly. The tattoo was so cool but if his mother saw that,
she’d probably kill him. Why did he have to go and get a tattoo while being completely
wasted? And why did no one stop him?

He grabbed Sirius’ jumper and he put it on without a second thought, then he grabbed a pair
of black trousers from his trunk and after he was completely dressed he ran downstairs. He
intended to have a shower before joining the others but that was before the dragon-shaped
imminent crisis.

“Sirius, why do I have a massive tattoo on my back?!” he shrieked as soon as he entered in

the room, his eyes wide.

His sudden question caused Remus, James, Potter, Regulus, Sirius and two women he didn’t
know to turn their heads to look at him. They all look miserable and Draco frowned, slightly
confused. They were gathered around the kitchen table, Potter’s hands were grabbing the
table hard, James had a weary look on his face, Sirius had his arms crossed and he looked
mad, Regulus had his lips pinched and Remus looked like he was hurt, confused, happy and
mad, all at the same time.

That was weird.

“What’s going on?” he asked eventually after no one talked for far too long.

“That’s what we all would like to know,” Sirius bit as he shot a glare to one of the woman.
She had fiery hair and intense green eyes, very similar to Potter’s.

“I didn’t know how to–“ she began to speak but James’ voice cut her before she ended her
sentence.

“You abandoned our son,” James stated harshly without ever looking at her, his eyes
stubbornly glued on the table. He looked angry now rather than tired.

“No, it’s not what happened,” she tried again but Sirius interjected.

“So what happened?! Because from our perspective you abandoned all of us!”

“I know but that’s not how–“

Sirius stood up and began to pace the room, his face dark and murderous. He’d never looked
that mad before. “We thought you were dead! For fifteen years!” he spat. “Do you know how
long that is?! To grieve someone who wasn’t even dead, who just cleared off when things got
harder?!”

“It’s not what happened!” she said again, this time with more assurance as she half stood up
too. “If you just listened you’d know it Black!” she said furiously.

“Oh because you think you get to be furious?!” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes I get to, because you accuse me of such a vile thing I would have never done and you
don’t even listen to me! I can explain what happened but for that, you’d have to shut your big
mouth for once! Fifteen years and you didn’t change the slightest,” she shook her head.

“How would you know? It’s not like you were around!” he bit back.

“Guys–“ Remus tried

“But it wasn’t my choice!” she almost shouted. “The war was hard–“

“Oh, don’t even dare!” Sirius smiled sourly, it looks mean and definitely not genuine, like a
misplacement on his usual so cheerful face. “I know the war was hard! I was there!”

“No you don’t know what–“

“I didn’t spend twelve years of my life in Azkaban for you to tell me I don’t know how hard
it was!” he shouted.

“I’m not saying you don’t! I’m saying you don’t know what happened to me!” she shouted.

“Wait, Sirius you went to Azkaban?” the other woman, who hadn’t talked until now, asked.
Sheer sadness filled her brown eyes.

Sirius seemed to calm down a bit at that as he looked at the woman. “Yeah, for twelve years
before I escaped,” he said casually.

“You escaped?” the red-head girl asked bewildered.

Draco now supposed it was Lily, with the few elements of context he managed to grab. They
were speaking so fast and over each other’s voice that it was hard to understand anything
they were saying.

“Yes, I escaped! It’s not like I was given a fucking trial anyway!” he growled.

“But why?” the other woman asked. She was wearing her hair in a semi-afro. She looked
stunning.

“Why what?”

“What have you done to end up there?” she asked.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“He was accused of murdering you,” James answered as his eyes locked on the red-haired
girl. “You and my mother, as well as a dozen of muggles and all our friends,” he sounded
grim and his eyes were glassy but other than that, his face didn’t give much away. He
probably was overwhelmed. Draco would be too if he were in his shoes.

Lily looked at them in shock. “But he didn’t. He wasn’t even there the night your mother
died”

“No I wasn’t, but you were. So what the fuck happened? How did she–“ Sirius had to clear
his voice before he could continue. “And why were you gone when we arrived? All that was
left of you was your wand!”

“Somebody wants a cuppa?” Remus asked as he stood up to fill his own cup with tea. Lily
and Regulus asked for one but no one else acknowledged him.
Draco’s eyes fell on Potter who looked positively hurt. For the first time in his entire life,
Draco pitied him. It must have been hard for him to know his mother never actually died but
still missed fifteen years of his life.

Lily’s fingers fidgeted with the cup placed in front of her as she took a deep breath. “I’m
going to explain, then you’ll understand”

“No,” Potter finally spoke though he didn’t sound like himself, causing Draco’s eyes to
suddenly widen. He didn’t expect him to speak at all.

“Harry–“ James tried but Potter didn’t let him finish.

Instead, he looked up at his mother and locked their gaze together. His eyes looked more
intense than Draco had ever seen them and it was a bit scary. Sure, over the years, Draco had
pissed him off properly but he never looked that hurt, that angry. It didn’t feel right.

“I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuse,” he deadpanned.

“Harry, you should hear your mother out–“ the second woman tried.

“She’s not my mother!” he snapped cruelly, his body vibrating with anger.

“Harry,” Remus breathed.

Lily looked really hurt by that statement.

“You may have given me life but my fathers raised me, not you! You were not around! I
don’t have to listen to whatever you have to say. I don’t care!” he said before he stood up
abruptly and stormed out of the room. When he opened the backdoor to go in the garden, he
didn’t even pause to close it. He let the door slammed behind him as he ran down the stairs of
the porch.

No one talked after his sudden departure but everyone looked at each other until Lily broke
the eye-contact and looked down at her cup of tea. The woman whose name was still
unknown to Draco was rubbing her back gently in support.

Draco felt really uncomfortable. He knew he was intruding something really private and he
shouldn’t be there to listen to whatever the woman was about to say but he didn’t know how
to just go without it being awkward. Eventually, he cleared his voice and Sirius and Remus
looked at him.

“I, uh.. I think I’m going to check on…,” he said awkwardly as he threw his thumb towards
the backdoor Potter disappeared through a few seconds earlier.

“Leave it, I’ve got it,” Regulus said as he stood up.

“Reggie,” James said.

“It’s okay James. It’s not really my business why she left, but it’s yours. You should listen to
her, I’ve got it,” he gave him a reassuring smile before he left the room.
Draco looked at him as he left, taking away the opportunity he’d found to escape the tense
situation they were all facing. He shifted his weight from a foot to another, the tattoo on his
back completely forgotten now.

He didn’t want to comfort Potter but it still felt better than staying here and he envied
Regulus right now. Reluctantly, he sat on the chair next to James, where Regulus had been
sitting a few moments earlier.

If he had to suffer through this, at least he’ll be comfy.

“You let a fucking death eater raising my son?!” Lily shrieked as she sent daggers to James.

“It wasn’t like that,” he said. “Regulus wasn’t a death eater. And you know it,” he gave her a
pointed look.

“Do I?” she challenged and the woman standing next to her nodded.

“Yes baby, remember what happened in 1979?” she supplied. Lily frowned but shook her
head.

“I must have forgotten”

“You seemed to have forgotten quite a lot. Your son, for one,” James muttered darkly.

“That’s not what happened!” she insisted, her cheeks flushed.

No one said anything after that.

“So?” Sirius’ voice cut through the silence. “are you going to explain yourself?” he asked.

And the next time Lily opened her mouth, it was to, in fact, finally explaining herself.

~•~

Saturday 31 st of October 1981

In the little town of Godric’s Hollow, the sun had set and the night had risen. The moon was
high in the sky, projecting its silver light onto the pavement, drowning itself in the abyssal
shadows cast by the lamp posts aligned in the street. The rain wasn’t falling anymore but it
poured during the whole day and the drenched roads reflected the lights as the raindrops
shone like a thousands crystals in the puddles formed in the cracks of the cement.

Lily was looking through the window, waiting for any signs of movement in the street. The
mustard curtains were shadowing her otherworldly beauty as she hid behind. In theory, no
one should be able to see through the house because of the fidelius charm protecting them but
she’d rather be safe than sorry. The lamp post in front of the house highlighted the red strands
of her hair making it look fiery.

Harry was sleeping tightly in her arms, completely unaware of the turmoil raging in Lily’s
mind. It was late at night and Peter wasn’t here to deliver the grocery’s bags like he would
each week after work. She sighed as she drew the curtain and walked to the kitchen where
Effie and James were cooking the diner. She sent two patronuses already and Peter hadn’t
answered any of them.

It smelled delicious in the house, a mixture of meat and spices as well as hot potatoes and
sauces. Effie was stirring the sauce and James checked the meat in the oven before he opened
the cupboard and took plates out to dress the table. He kissed his mother on her cheek as he
walked around the house. He was about to put a bottle of red wine on the table when Harry
began to cry.

At first, it was really soft, like he was whining but then he began to cry in earnest, wet tears
rolling down his baby cheeks as he choked on his own sobs. Lily rocked him patiently and
James immediately looked for his teddy bear but it was useless because what Harry really
wanted was to be fed. However, since Peter didn’t come yet to deliver the food, they had
nothing left for Harry and so they couldn’t feed him.

“Where is he?” Lily said, exasperated as she tried to calm Harry.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t send a patronus at all today,” James answered.

Effie approached Lily, her arms stretched open as she smiled at her. “Can I?” she asked and
Lily nodded before she settled Harry between her arms.

They watched as Effie walked to the kitchen where she was previously stirring the sauce and
she plunged a spoon in it, then she blew on it and gave it to Harry.

“It’s not much but it’s the best I can do considering Pete isn’t here yet,” Effie explained.

“Alright that’s enough,” James said before he grabbed his coat. Lily followed him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“My son is hungry and all we have to feed him is a spicy sauce. I don’t care why Pete isn’t
here, all I know is that he isn’t and Harry is starving”

“You’re overreacting a bit, honey. I wouldn’t say he’s starving,” Effie said softly. “Perhaps
give him a few minutes?”

“Oh please mum, we had to ration his food all day. Of course he is starving,” he said before
he sat on a chair to put his shoes on.

“James don’t even think about going outside!” Lily said. “You know it’s not safe”

But James didn’t listen and stood up anyway, determined to grab some food for Harry. “What
are they going to do? Kill me? They can try, it wouldn’t be the first time,” he said as he
walked to the door, a bag tucked under his arm.

“You should listen to Lily, love. I don’t like to know you outside with everything that’s going
on”
“It’ll be fine mum. I promise. The closest shop is barely five minutes away. I pick food for
Prongslet and then I come home right after. I promise”

“James,” Lily said again nervously.

James cupped her face in his hands and looked at her in the eyes. “You know I can handle a
few death eaters, I did it before. But if it reassures you, I’ll take the cloak, alright?” She
nodded and James kissed her forehead softly. “I’ll be fine”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

His hands fell to her shoulders and he squeezed one of them gently as he gave her another
reassuring smile before he opened the safe hidden behind the portrait of his father and took
the cloak out. He wrapped himself in it, leaving only his face in sight and he kissed his
mother goodbye after he took his wand with him.

“Lock behind me. I’ll be back in twenty,” he promised.

Lily didn’t want to let him go but realistically, James was right. It’d been hard to feed Harry
properly these past few days because Peter didn’t take the right quantity of food last time he
went to the shop and now Harry was really hungry and they had nothing left for him.

As soon as he closed the door, Lily walked to the window and pushed the curtain away so she
could see the street. She stared into nothingness for a few seconds before she reluctantly left
her spot after she made sure Peter wasn’t here either.

James was brave, she couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean he would be able to survive to
the dozen of death eaters who had been spotted near by the other day if he went out on his
own. Last time he… Lily sighed and pushed the thought away.

No. She wouldn’t think about last time.

However, if that memory kept showing up randomly, she’d have to take it out of her head and
fill another phial with it. It would only be added to the large collection she began since the
war broke out.

It probably wasn’t healthy to cope with the war this way but there was no manual and no one
taught you how to deal with the murders, the fear and the injuries. No one taught you how to
live through a war and so Lily had to find her own coping mechanism so she could look
forward a better future for everyone and not drown into her feelings.

She had to keep her head clear.

And so she began to take the memories that hurt the most out of her head. She didn’t erase
them, she didn’t try to conceal her pain either. She simply decided she’d deal with it when the
war would be over or else it’d be too hard to stand, to wake up in the morning.

“He’ll be alright, dear,” Effie said as she approached her. She stroked her hair in a maternal
way, bringing comfort to her swelling heart. “He’s tough”
“What will happen the day he won’t be tough enough,” she said and Effie gave her a sad
smile. “I’m sorry Effie, I didn’t mean...” she said.

“It’s alright, I understand,” she said.

Lily gave her a tight smile before her eyes fell on Harry. She stroked his hair slowly as she
looked into his emerald eyes. “Dad is coming home soon,” she said more to herself than to
Harry. “Yeah, he’ll come home,” she sighed.

Eventually, Harry fell asleep in his grand-mother’s arm and Effie decided to put him to bed
until James came back so they could feed him. When she came back to the living-room, the
calmness of the street vanished as they heard a big CRACK reverberating through the walls of
the house. Effie and Lily exchanged a look before Effie looked through the window.

“It must be Peter,” Lily said but Effie’s face darkened suddenly and it gave shudders down
her spine because Effie had never looked like that before.

“No, it’s not Peter. Come with me,” she said as she grabbed Lily’s arm and took her to the
closest cupboard, in the entryway.

“Effie wha–“ but she gasped when Effie opened the door and shoved her inside before she
could even react. Effie cast a locking charm onto the door of the cupboard as well as a
silencing charm so Lily’s voice wouldn’t be heard through the door. Lily hit the door with the
palm of her hand as she screamed. “Effie, let me out!”

But Effie couldn’t hear her and even if she could, she wouldn’t have let her out. Lily was
locked in the dark, she had no idea what was going on on the other side of the door but she
heard the front door opening and then voices.

“Good evening, gentlemen”

“Move, woman,” a man said and Effie smiled.

“I was expecting you’d say something like this but I don’t think I will. However, I suggest
you leave my house this instant,” she said pleasantly.

The man snorted and shoved her against the wall, Lily heard her body slamming against it
from where she was and she tried to hit the door harder. She felt utterly stupid for not having
her wand with her or else that door wouldn’t have been an issue.

“Leave her alone!” She screamed from the top of her lungs as she kicked the door.

Lily flinched violently when she heard the first spells being cast. Her eyes widened and she
hit the door harder, breaking a finger on it before she slammed her shoulder against it to
preserve her last unharmed fingers. She heard Effie fighting back courageously on the other
side despite Lily recognised six voices in addition of Effie’s.

She had no idea who had the upper hand in that fight but she was praying Effie did. She was
a powerful witch and a great duellist. Lily could only hope she’d win that fight or else her
son and the woman she considered like a mother would die and she wouldn’t be able to do
anything against that. She heard a man groaning in pain and Lily couldn’t help but feeling
hopeful.

On the other side of the door, a few vases exploded, perhaps a window too and a few death
eaters screamed in pain. Lily had no idea what Effie was doing but she definitely was kicking
their arses. As the time went by, Lily heard the fight moving closer to Harry’s bedroom and
the desperation she felt growing inside exploded once again. She kicked the door harder.

“Effie! Effie open the door!” She begged as her throat tightened in fear. She was really close
to cry.

But Effie didn’t open the door and before Lily could beg again, Effie screamed in pain as she
was hit by a nasty spell. Lily’s heart was beating so hard, so fast, it felt like it was trying to
escape her chest just like she was desperate to escape that cupboard. She shook the doorknob,
terrified.

“Leave her alone! Leave her alone! Effie!” She screamed until her voice was raw and then
she crumbled and began to cry as she heard Effie moaning in pain.

“Move, woman. You’re not the one we want,” Lily heard a man saying. She was pretty sure it
was Voldemort himself.

“If you touch one hair of his head, I swear a coffin won’t be necessary to bury your dead
body,” she threatened darkly, mustering all the bravery she had in her.

The man sneered maliciously. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. “Avada Kedavra!”

Lily froze.

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move and she couldn’t scream anymore either, completely
shocked as she heard Effie’s body hitting the floor of her son’s bedroom.

She tried to speak but her voice was mute as she began to hyperventilate. She could barely
remember what happened next, she just knew she eventually slid against the floor as she
cried, her head buried between her knees.

After a minute or two during which she felt like she was dying, she heard two men running
towards the front door. “The dark lord’s dead! Move! We can’t stay here! Move Yaxley!” she
heard and then the overwhelming silence hit the house harder than any spells.

It felt like death had wrapped their house with its long dark coat, taking their souls as it went.
Lily felt dead. She felt like an empty shell as she stumbled forward, trying so hard to get on
her feet. She had to try twice before she managed to stand up. Her shaky hand pushed the
door open, veritably confirming Effie was gone for good.

It struck her violently that she’d never see her smile warmly again.

Lily sobbed hard before she screamed, the sharpest pain smothering her as she fell to her
knees and grabbed her chest. She wasn’t even sobbing properly, her sobs muffled by the
silent grip of grief strangling her as she tried so hard to breathe. She couldn’t see anything
through her tears. No matter how many rolled down her cheeks, her nose and her chin, there
were twice of them forming in her lids.

It felt like losing her mother for the second time.

She didn’t know how she found the strength to stand up again but she remembered stumbling
to Harry’s bedroom to make sure her son was alive. Her chest was so tight when she entered
the room but she tried really hard not to look at Effie, her eyes still opened as she stared at the
ceiling, blood running out of her mouth from the previous fight she led. The last one she ever
had.

Lily heard Harry crying before she even saw him and it felt like a weight was lifted off her
chest, however Lily still felt like something was crushing her and despite she was relieved to
see her son alive, she couldn’t even be happy about it, not with Effie’s body laying on the
floor barely a few meters away from her.

She pushed her pain aside as she forced herself to stop crying as she wanted to be there for
her baby. She took him in her arms and she pressed his head against her shoulder as she
rocked him gently so he’d calm down. Lily whispered sweet nothings to him, her voice raw
and strained dry tears on her cheeks. She stroked his back slowly until Harry slumped against
her and finally managed to fall back to sleep.

Once her son was asleep, Lily’s mask collapsed and she had to press her hand hard onto her
mouth as she sobbed again. She couldn’t stand looking at Effie, she was too lifeless, too cold
compared to the warmth Lily knew that woman to have. It hurt too bad.

She almost vomited when she stepped over her corpse to leave her son’s bedroom. She
walked back to the living-room where she sat in silence. Barely seven minutes passed since
James was gone and yet it felt like a lifetime. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the clock,
the tick tick tick it produced hypnotised her as her feelings vanished, leaving her completely
empty, filling her heart with nothingness.

Her eyes were glassy but she wasn’t crying anymore. Her lips were softly parted as she
looked into nothing in particular, her arms rested by her side but it felt like they were too
heavy to move. She didn’t move for ten minutes. She looked frozen in time like a statue.

Eventually, she forced herself to swallow, her mouth so dry and her throat so raw it hurt.
Moving the muscles of her throat seemed to set her in motion as her eyes darted aimlessly
from a point to another. That’s when she saw it. Her wand. It was resting on the fireplace and
immediately her thoughts went to a million miles a hour.

James would soon come back to his dead mother as well as the corpse of three death eaters in
his living-room. He would need support. He would need his best friend, Lily. He would need
someone to cry on and someone to talk to. And Harry… James would be too crushed to even
feed him. Someone had to take care of him. She was his mother. She had to.

But saying it felt like she’d lost her mother a second time was not even close to the truth.
Effie had been everything to her. She’d been there for her during her pregnancy and when her
parents had been killed. Effie offered them a place to hide and a house to raise Harry despite
James and herself weren’t even dating. She never judged her and she loved her as her own,
just like she loved Sirius and James. Effie was family and now Lily was all alone again.

But she wasn’t, was she? James and Harry were there. She had to be strong for them.

And so Lily stood up, moving like a robot or someone put under the imperius curse, and she
grabbed her wand. She looked at it like it was the first time and then she sat down on the
couch again. She couldn’t lose herself in her grief. She couldn’t break down. People needed
her and the war was finally over, if what the death eater said as he left was true. She deserved
to see a world in peace. She deserved her happily ever after.

Now it was over, perhaps Mary would come back. She had left when everything became too
dangerous for muggleborns. She took her parents – they were muggles – and she went into
hiding with them in a foreign country where they could all be safe. If the war was over, Lily
could see her again. Be with her.

It felt too sweet after all those years of pain. Lily wanted a taste.

She put the wand to her temple and she wordlessly began to cast the spell to remove the
memory of Effie’s death. She took a phial out of a drawer and she held it firmly as she looked
at the memory filling it slowly.

That’s when it all went to shit.

Taking a memory out of someone’s head forced the said someone to relive the memory. And
so Lily had to go through the pain of losing Effie all over again, as though it wasn’t fresh
enough as it was. Usually, she took the memories out of her head a few weeks after the event
occurred, so it hurt less. But James was coming home soon and she had to be there for him.
And for Harry.

And so she began to sob again, her body aching, her muscles clenching as she felt like her
heart was burning inside her chest. Unfortunately, those feelings were so strong that she lost
control over her magic and her silent prayers – “I want to forget about the magical deaths” –
became roughly different as her mind chanted “I want to forget about magic” instead.

It all happened so fast but she still felt every bits of magic disintegrating in her head as they
were erased from her memory. When the silver light shining at the tip of her wand dimmed,
she dropped her wand to the floor as well as the phial which rolled under the couch.

She couldn’t recognise the place she was in anymore, it looked unfamiliar. She felt like she’d
woken up from a very bad dream and she couldn’t explain the tears on her face. She didn’t
understand anything and so she left.

She opened the front door and stumbled outside into the real world, not even kissing her son
goodbye because she didn’t even remember his existence, not even savouring the first breath
of fresh air she had in months because she didn’t even remember being stuck inside for so
long.
As she walked along the road, a motorbike passed by her, rushing through the night. She
never knew it was Sirius and Remus. She never knew what happened to her friends on the
same night she left. Her steps took her to the train station where she waited to go home.

A few hours later, Lily followed the road until she reached a house in a small area where
everything looked the same. By the time she arrived on the doorstep, her hair was drenched
by the rain which was pouring again and the sun was rising slowly in the horizon. She raised
her fist and knocked at the door. A few minutes later, a tall and thin woman whose brown hair
was tightly wrapped in a bun opened the door. She was wearing a yellow dress with white
squares on it and a blue apron with flowers of different colours.

“Lily,” the woman said, startled.

“Who is it, Petunia?” a man growled inside. “The eggs are not going to cook themselves!”

But Petunia didn’t answer to her husband. She looked at Lily, her eyes filled with tears as she
cupped her face between her fingers.

“Is it really you?” she whispered vulnerably. Lily nodded, she couldn’t find her voice but it
wasn’t what Petunia needed anyway. She wrapped her arm around Lily’s shoulders and let
her in. “Come inside, you’re going to catch a cold,” she said softly before she closed the door
behind her.

Petunia never knew what happened that night. At first, she thought her sister had broken up
with James – no one knew in her family that they were not dating – but then she realised her
sister didn’t seem to remember anything from the wizarding world. Too happy to have her
sister back to herself, Petunia never mentioned magic in front of her or anyone.

Vernon, her husband, didn’t know about it anyway so it was a secret only Petunia knew about
and she had no intentions on telling her. Lily was back and she would never lose her again to
anything.

In Godric’s Hollow, the ambiance was awfully different. No warm welcome greeted James
when he came home, instead the aurors were there and they dragged Sirius away from him as
the man kicked and screamed. James and Remus were screaming too but the aurors didn’t
listen to anything they had to say though, they rather accusing him of murders he never
committed.

By the time James finally entered inside, he’d lost everything. The meal was cold and so was
his mother. He sat on the rocking-chair in Harry’s bedroom as he held his son close to him.
After Harry was fed, James held him tight as he cried himself to sleep. Harry slept way
before James did.

If not for Remus, James would have probably drowned himself in his tears.
 The Deal
Chapter Notes

CW Grieving
CW Underage Smoking
Mention of death
Mention of Violence

Monday 4 th of November 1996.

Lily’s story provoked a veritable tidal wave in the room. No one spoke after she finished but
they all looked like they were about to cry, Lily included.

Draco didn’t receive that story the way his elders did but he knew deep down it must have
hurt to hear it after so many years looking for answers. From what he gathered, no one knew
what had happened to Euphemia Potter – Potter’s grandmother and James’ mother – and no
one knew what had occurred to Lily’s body since it was nowhere in the house after the Dark
Lord’s defeat.

As his eyes travelled from an adult to another, Draco realised how hard it was to dig so far
into the past. Not only did they all look like they’d seen a ghost – quite literally when it came
to Lily – but they all looked like they were actually back to that time, miserable and weary as
they stared into nothingness, the weight of the war and griefs too heavy on their shoulders to
keep their heads up.

No one moved around the table for a while, not even Draco who didn’t dare to solely breathe
when everyone looked like they were mourning again. Sirius and James finally exchanged a
glance after the silence stretched for far too long and their eyes welled up in tears within a
second. They excused themselves silently and walked out the door to cry a mother they never
got the chance to say goodbye to. Regulus followed them.

It probably was a relief to know she hadn’t died in vain, literally being responsible for
Potter’s survival and peculiarity nowadays but Draco knew that if it were his mother rather
than James’, it wouldn’t bring any comfort. Euphemia was still dead and that wasn’t fair.

Remus was the next person who finally made a move. He stood up and walked around the
table to come and hug Lily tightly. She seemed to relax in his embrace before she hugged him
back. He whispered something to her and, whatever it was, it probably helped a bit because
she looked instantly a bit more cheerful. Relieved, even.

Eventually, a few hours passed and Draco was happy to notice the tension previously
engraining the cheerful atmosphere had dissipated to leave room to casual talks and bonding.
Everyone was back around the table, sharing little anecdotes about their lives as they caught
up after they lost so much time being apart.

Everyone was there. Everyone but Potter, who still refused to come inside.

He was probably freezing to death now, with the coldness cloaking the manor like a second
skin. For some reasons, it felt colder within the house and its land than in the outside world.
Draco suspected it was because of the fidelius charm, the repelling spells and the wards
protecting the place.

A bit before lunch time, James brought a tray of glasses to the table. No alcohol this time,
just sodas Draco didn’t even know the name of and juices: orange juice, apple juice, pear
juice… If a fruit contained juice, you could be sure there was a glass filled with it on the
table, waiting for someone to drink it.

James picked the apple juice glass – it turned out it was his favourite – Remus went for his
usual tea rather than a soda or any other drinks present on the tray and Sirius picked up a
cherry lemonade. Lily and Mary – Draco finally caught her name during one of the
conversations – were sharing a glass of orange juice. Draco, on his part, was sipping casually
on a glass of lemonade.

The gas produced bubbles in his glass and it exploded in his mouth in a colourful panel of
savours. It was fun to drink he decided as he played with the vivid pink straw Sirius put in his
glass when he gave it to him. The glass was quickly emptied after that.

As Draco listened intendedly to anything the adults were saying, he caught Remus standing
up for a refill out of the corner of his eye and he called him out to ask for a cup of tea as well.

“Sugar and milk?” Remus asked.

“No. Just tea, please,” he said.

Remus hummed and walked to the kitchen to fill both their cups. When he came back, he put
the cup in front of him and Draco nodded in acknowledgement. Remus smirked and shook
his head as he found it particularly amusing. It was becoming ridiculous, really. Why was it
so hard to say ‘thank you’ to Remus when he didn’t struggle to say it to anyone else?
Ridiculous! He began to suspect it was all about pride.

“Harry’s still outside?” Remus asked, effectively snapping Draco out of his thoughts.

“Yes, he said he didn’t want to come in just yet,” Regulus said as he drank a cup of coffee.

“Mmh,” Remus answered before he brought the cup to his lips.

“Draco?” Sirius called. Draco moved his gaze until it fell on him. He gave him a curious look
and Sirius continued. “I know it’s maybe a lot to ask for but do you think you could… I don’t
know? Talk to him, perhaps?” he said.

Draco stared at him blankly as he tried his best not to choke on his tea. That was a stupid
idea. How on earth could he think it would do any good? He and Potter had never had any
civil conversation in their entire life and the other boy was already pissed off enough as it
was.

Sending Draco into the lion’s den when Potter would want nothing but to rip somebody to
shreds because of how upset he was would probably be a huge mistake. And right now,
Draco was not suicidal enough to risk it to blow to his face.

On the other hand, a few hours had passed since Lily’s arrival and Potter’s departure so
perhaps had he calmed down a bit now. Still, Draco couldn’t think of any scenarios in which
it could go right. He would definitely make everything worse if he tried.

Since he remained quiet for too long, Sirius called his name, dragging everyone’s attention
around the table onto him as the last conversations died to focus on what was happening in
front of them.

Great.

Draco tried not to pay attention to anyone else but Sirius as he stared into the man’s eyes,
creating a bubble for themselves as though it’d keep everyone out. It was easier if he wanted
to speak his mind to pretend that was just the two of them.

“Draco?” Sirius said again. “You there kiddo?” he shook a hand in front of his eyes and
Draco batted his hand away.

“Of course I am, but are you?” he asked, irritated.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“Why on earth would you suggest something like that? That’s fucking stupid!”

“No, it’s not actually,” Remus said and Draco snapped his eyes to look at him.

“Oh so you approve of this?” he asked, gobsmacked.

“It’s not as stupid as it sounds like. Look, your relationship with your mother is... difficult
sometimes too, right?” Remus tried to explain.

“I don’t think my situation with my mother is the same as Potter’s. Mine didn’t clear off for
one. His disappeared for fifteen years and suddenly resurfaced and threw everything he
thought he knew to the bin,” he snapped. He was highly offended that they thought there had
any similarities between him and Potter. Lily looked ashamed after he spoke and he almost
felt bad. Almost. “No offence,” he mumbled to her distractedly.

“I’m not saying your situations are identical. I’m saying you know how that feels to have
conflicted feelings about your mother. I’m saying you know how it feels when your world
collapses,” Remus persevered.

Draco shook his head, his face wrinkled a bit as his expression turned grumpy. He pushed his
back against the backrest of the chair and he crossed his arms on his chest, stubbornly
looking away.
Remus was right, unfortunately. He knew both of those feelings quite well but that didn’t
mean he had anything in common with Potter. They were not the same. They were
diametrically opposed and he would never, ever share a tiny bit of his own experience with
him because for that to happen, they’d have to be friends.

They would never be friends. He’d rather jump into the Black Lake and die than being his
friend.

“Draco,” Sirius sighed because of his childish attitude.

Okay, that wasn’t really mature and he looked like a sulking child but he didn’t care. There
was no way he was going to be nice to Potter. No way!

Suddenly, Sirius’ gaze lit up as an idea bloomed in that curly head of his. Draco finally
looked at him warily. He frowned when Sirius singsonged his name again.

“What?” he snapped.

Sirius smirked. “If you agree to talk to him, nicely, perhaps I could do something for you,” he
said smugly.

“Something? What kind of thing?” he narrowed his eyes.

Sirius’ smirk turned into a grin as Draco took the bait.

“If you agree to talk to Harry, I’ll let you stay here for the week,” he offered.

“Sirius!” Remus gasped.

“Pads, I’m not sure Dumbledore would approve,” James says slowly.

“Who cares what that old bat has to say?” he stared at James. “I believe it’s still my house
and I can host whoever I want”

“Technically, it’s still mine since to this day you still haven’t poured a bit of your blood onto
the house magical core, but who cares about technicalities?” Regulus said sarcastically.

“Still,” Sirius huffed stubbornly, his lips pinched and a frown creasing his forehead. Draco
wondered why he hadn’t claimed the house yet but he didn’t have the time to ask before
Sirius spoke again. “I won’t ask for his permission. That’s stupid. So Draco’s staying and
that’s it!”

“You didn’t even ask for my opinion,” Remus pointed out. “I live there too, mind you”

“Do you mind that he stays?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Well, no but–“

“Then that’s settle. Pup gets to stay,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
Draco’s face softened involuntarily before he forced his features to harden again. He didn’t
expect Sirius to react so fiercely to a possible opposition to his presence in his house.

“What makes you think I’m interested?” Draco asked but his heart was beating faster as he
began to feel really hopeful he might be able to stay.

He wouldn’t be able to stay the whole week since he’d have to meet with the Dark Lord on
Thursday and his classes with Bellatrix would return but if he could win a few days off away
from the manor and the horrors happening there, perhaps he could do an effort and talk to
sodding Potter in return.

“I’d say your heartbeat is giving it away,” Remus said with a small smile.

Draco glared at him.

“Oi! Don’t listen!” he said as he pressed his arms closer to his heart as though it could muffle
the sound.

“So? Will you talk to Harry?” Sirius asked.

“Why me? Surely you could have that conversation with him just as much as I could,” he
said. “You’re literally the definition of mummy issues and you went to Azkaban, if that’s not
a world shattering situation I don’t know what is”

“Fair enough but Regulus, Remus and James tried to talk to him and he didn’t want to listen,”
Sirius said.

“Oh because Potter’s well known for listening to me, right. How could I forget?” he rolled his
eyes.

“That’s not the point. The point is, he’ll listen to you,” Sirius insisted. So, that was the point,
in the end. “Or at least, there’s a chance he will”

“Azkaban killed your last braincells if you genuinely believe that. You’re insane,” he
deadpanned.

“I’m just saying it’ll be easier with you,” he shrugged.

“You’re literally his godfather and you didn’t find it particularly easy!”

“But you’re his age. I don’t have that advantage,” Sirius stated as he arched an eyebrow.

Draco groaned. “Fine!”

“Fine?” Remus repeated, an amused smile threatened to tug at his lips.

“I’ll do it!” He said as he stood up, his fingers pointed at Sirius. “But you better give me the
best room this bloody place has!”

“Deal,” he grinned.
“And I want to be able to boss around your house elf too,” he said.

“He’ll probably respect you better than he respects me anyway,” he shrugged.

“Oh wait a minute! Kreacher’s mine. No one is going to boss him around except for me,”
Regulus disagreed instantly.

“Alright, not the house elf then,” Draco mumbled. “But I want to know how the fuck that
dragon got tattooed on my back”

“Easy,” Sirius grinned.

“Oh and you’ll have to teach me French!” he said on an impulse.

“What?!” Sirius hailed, gobsmacked.

Finally his smile vanished. Regulus couldn’t help but burst into laughter in a way the people
around the table rarely heard him. Draco smirked smugly.

“Yes, I want to learn French,” he repeated deviously. “You’ll have to teach me if you want me
to talk to Potter”

Sirius groaned. “Oh c’mon, why?!” he whined.

“I always said you were my favourite,” Regulus smirked as he looked to Draco before he
composed himself.

“Don’t encourage him,” Sirius glared at his brother.

“What can I say, he knows how to negotiate”

“So, are you going to teach me or not?”

“Anything but that. I swear I hate that fucking language,” he whined.

“And I hate that stupid godson of yours, I believe it’s a fair deal,” he said.

“Wait,” Lily spoke after silently observing their conversation. “Is it a good idea to send him
talk to Harry if they hate each other?” she asked with concern.

“Harry doesn’t hate him,” Sirius said quickly.

“Yes he does,” Draco huffed. “He’s making my life a living hell”

“’A living hell’,” he quoted with an eye-roll. “Quit the dramatics, will you?”

“It’s funny coming from someone who was about to throw a fit because I asked for French
classes,” he retorted easily. Sirius glared at him before his face collapsed into a pout.

“Why French?!” he exclaimed with frustration. “You could pick any fucking language on this
goddamn earth but no! Sir Draco Malfoy wants to learn stupid French!” he threw his hands to
the ceiling and James and Remus chuckled.

He really didn’t expect Sirius to protest so much about teaching him French but now he did,
Draco certainly wouldn’t let it go. Besides, he did want to learn his mother’s language. It was
part of his legacy too and he hated how his father forbid it for years. It was such a beautiful
language. If it could piss Sirius off, then that was a nice bonus.

“How is it fair? You already speak French! You just do that to piss me off!” Sirius insisted as
he threw his hands towards him as though it proved his point.

“I can’t speak French. I have a few notions but nothing significantly enough to actually speak
the language. You do though,” he pointed out.

“I hate you,” he said flatly before he shook his head. “Fine, I’ll do it! Now go talk to Harry”

“I knew we’d find an agreement,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” Sirius mumbled.

He downed the cup of tea which was now cold and he walked to the door. Before he could
open it to go outside and join Potter in the garden, Sirius stood up again and leaned against
the table, his arms planted in the wood of the surface. “And be nice!” he yelled as Draco
opened the door behind him with an eye-roll.

“I’ll behave if he does!”

“Well, if that’s what it takes we’re not home and dry yet,” Remus said as Draco closed the
door while Sirius barked a laugh and James did too.

When he stepped outside, the freezing wind hit him hard and he shivered despite the high
temperature of his body. He shoved his hands in the pockets of Sirius’ jumper and he looked
around him to look at the garden.

The vestiges of a beautiful garden was all that remained from it, it looked like it’d lost its
beauty a while ago. Draco could tell it must have been sumptuous once but now the land
looked dry and diminished like peasants’ fields after a drought. It looked lifeless.

There was not a bird on the horizon.

The trees were deprived from their leaves, left completely naked to survive against the cold,
the rain and the snow of the winter British skies. Fortunately, today, it was sunny though
there was no warmth to get from the sun rays falling on Draco’s exposed pale complexion. It
felt like a cold light.

As he searched for a sign of Potter’s silhouette somewhere in the garden, his eyes fell on a
very weird looking thing standing tall in the back of the garden. As he approached, he noticed
Potter was laying on the centre of the thing Draco had never seen before. He frowned but he
didn’t question it as he opened the sort of veil that seemed to act like a door and he entered
inside.
The first step he took was tough.

It felt like his foot was swallowed by the fabric of whatever he was standing on as it dipped
under his weight. He stumbled but he quickly managed to recover. He took a step forward
carefully. Only Potter would come and lay onto something so weird.

Sirius better keep his promise or I’ll kill him myself, he thought bitterly as he struggled to
reach the centre where Potter was laying, his eyes locked on the sky. It’s not that that thing
was huge, it’s just that it was almost impossible to walk a straight line on it. When he finally
reached Potter, he noticed sitting down wasn’t any easier than walking, to his dismay. He
almost fell backwards when he finally managed to sit. Potter didn’t even glance at him.

It took adjustment but now he was sitting, it was easier to adopt Potter’s position and lay next
to him – though not before he put the hood of Sirius’ jumper on. His hair was a mess but it
wasn’t dirty and there was no way he’d put his head on that weird thing he was sitting on
whereas it was wet from the rain and there was a leaf or two stuck on it.

It grossed him out enough as it was to know feet had probably walked where he was laying.

He put his hands on his stomach as his shoulders brushed Potter’s. He looked at the sky as
well, though he didn’t understand what Potter was finding so appealing about it. There was
nothing but big grey clouds obscuring the sun from time to time. Nothing to fuss about,
really.

They didn’t talk for a while, Draco was trying hard to find the right words to say especially
because his instincts always pushed him to be rude to Potter but he had made a promise and
he intended to keep it no matter how hard it was going to be. He didn’t want to disappoint
Sirius or anyone for the matter.

Draco turned his head slowly as though he was scared to spook a wild animal – in that case,
the wild animal being Potter – and the hood of Sirius’ jumper followed his movement, his
cheek brushed against the soft duvet coating the inside of the clothes. It was comfy and
warm. Draco had no regrets borrowing it in the morning.

He kind of missed his own jumpers though.

They were comfy too for as long as it lasted. Indeed, when he came home for Halloween, his
mother had thrown every single muggle things to the bin so that no death eaters would
inadvertently find them. The shoes she bought him were gone and so were his jumpers when
he opened the wardrobe, leaving him only with his wizarding clothes. It’s not that he didn’t
like them, it’s just that there was something comfortable about the jumpers.

He looked at Potter for a few seconds, studying his features in a way he hated when people
did it to him. He was hypocrite, sometimes, he knew it but he had to know what mood Potter
was in, in order not to let another fight break out. Talking friendly with Potter was a foreign
concept and potentially a delicate art Draco didn’t master.

He’d have to be careful.

Now he was there, laying on whatever he was laying on with Potter by his side, he realised he
had no idea how to fulfil his promise. No matter how much he racked his brain to find
something witty and definitely not disrespectful to say to let the conversation begin, nothing
came and eventually, it became extremely weird to be there without speaking.

Weird and deliciously familiar.

It reminded Draco of all the times Potter joined him at the top of the Astronomy tower. It felt
like that all over again except this time, he could see Potter, not just feel him. That was weird.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

However, before he could make up his mind, Potter moved and distracted him as he resettled
in a more comfortable position, never facing Draco for a second though his left hand moved
with him and now Draco was painfully aware that their hands were touching. They were so
close it would have been ridiculously easy to hold it. Draco almost frowned at the thought.
He wasn’t one to hold hands. He wasn’t particularly found of physical touch at all, in a
general way.

Intimacy wasn’t his forte.

Before it could become too uncomfortable, Draco cleared his voice. Although, Potter didn’t
reply nor did he grant him with a look. He simply hummed quietly as he waited for Draco to
say something.

The audacity of that boy, he thought bitterly.

“So? Mummy issues, uh?” he said awkwardly.

He winced. That was definitely not how that should go and if the glare Potter sent his way
was anything to judge by, he probably thought so too.

“Fuck off, Malfoy”

Draco took a deep breath not to lash out on him like he often did. Yes, that was going to be
hard.

“Sirius and his stupid ideas,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing. Mind your own business,” he snapped.

Scratch that, it wasn’t going to be hard; it was impossible!

“I was minding my own business you twat, you’re the one who decided to pay me a little
visit!” Potter groaned as he sat up on his elbows.

Draco took another deep breath as he tried to calm down. He wouldn’t pick up a fight with
him, not today.
“You’re right,” he said more calmly. It took Potter by surprise as he gaped at him. Draco
rolled his eyes. “Close your mouth before you swallow a fly,” he said and so Potter shut his
mouth.

For once.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he asked.

“Talk,” he shrugged.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t help but notice things were not going the way you expected”

“Oh so you’re here to gloat,” he said harshly.

“Not that it’s an unpleasant trail of thought although I’m not here for that”

“Sure,” he snorted.

“I promise”

“So what? You’re here to talk? Like, really talk?” he said ironically.

“Well, yes. That’s what I said. I didn’t know the Golden Boy was deaf in addition of being
daft,” he couldn’t help but retort. His voice remained calm though.

“Oh fuck off!” Potter spat. Draco thought it was legit but it still stung in the worst way and he
kind of felt the need to punch him. Instead, he remained quiet and tried to think of something
to say that wouldn’t make things worse. It began so, so bad. Before he could even think of
anything, Potter spoke again. “Why?”

“Why what?” he asked startled.

“I mean why would you want to talk to me?”

“Do you see anyone else who volunteered?” he raised an eyebrow. Potter gave him a look but
he didn’t say anything as he came back to his initial position. At least, he didn’t run away. It
wasn’t so bad. “So? Do you want to talk about it?”

“As if you’d understand,” he huffed.

“I have a mother too, Potter,” he deadpanned.

“Thanks but I’ll pass”

Draco shrugged but didn’t answer right away.

“Is there something else you’d like to talk about?” he asked.

“Stop it,” Potter frowned.

“What?”

“Stop trying to be nice. It’s awkward and frankly scary too,” he said. “Go back to being an
arsehole”

Draco smirked. “My, Potter. Kinky are we? You rather I’d be mean to you? That’s not very
Golden Boy of you,” he teased.

“Maybe not,” he replied honestly. “But at least, that’d feel normal,” he said before he groaned
in his hands as he rubbed his face wearily, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He had to
replace them on his face properly afterwards. “Isn’t it fucking ironic? You, being the only
normal thing I have today to cling to when you’re everything but acting normally,” he
laughed breathlessly but there was no humour there.

And that startled Draco because it was for the exact same reason he sought for Potter at
school, so that he could feel normal too. He supposed with everything that was going on in
his life, everything but Potter felt too surreal. Potter was constant, he was normal in the most
pleasant way and he was stable too, at least when it came to Draco. Everything else was too
hard, too dangerous and too evil.

Potter was safe.

Misery was everywhere and Draco didn’t know how to deal with it if not by seeking for
normality where he could find it. He swallowed harshly and pushed the thoughts away. He
didn’t want to dwell on himself right now.

“What’s this thing we’re sitting on anyway?” he asked instead, desperate to change the topic.

“It’s a trampoline,” Potter supplied.

“What is it?” he asked.

Potter gave him a look before he stood up. “Let me show you”

“Potter what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at him flexing his knees a few times as
he bounced on spot. Before he even realised what was happening, Draco wasn’t touching the
surface of the trampoline as Potter jumped on it for the first time in earnest.

Potter laughed at the face he made but Draco was too busy wondering what the hell was
happening to actually be mad at him for making fun of him. Potter seemed to think it was
particularly amusing because as Draco tried to stand up, Potter jumped again, sending Draco
right back to the floor. Potter laughed again.

“Alright stop it, I got it,” he said as he stretched a hand as though he asked him to stop.

Potter laughed. “C’mon, Malfoy. Don’t be shy. Jump with me,” he said.

“I won’t do that, that’s ridiculous,” he deadpanned.

“Don’t you know how to have fun?”

“Oh so that’s your definition of fun? No wonder your friend’s a bookworm,” he said
sarcastically. As though he wasn’t one for a good book. “It was my definition of fun too,
when I was five,” he deadpanned causing another laugh to erupt out of Potter’s mouth.

“Jump!” he said as he helped him on his feet. Draco just stared at him blankly. “C’mon, what
are you afraid of?”

“A concussion?” he suggested haughtily.

Potter rolled his eyes. “As you mentioned, kids do that,” he said.

“Just because their parents are irresponsible doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous,” he replied
flatly.

“I’ve never been hurt before”

“Or perhaps you banged your head too hard to remember”

“I’m positive I haven’t”

“That thing is not stable! If you haven’t yet then you’ll get hurt one day and you’ll split your
skull in two”

“You love exaggerating too much,” Potter said with another eye-roll.

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

“What?”

“Sit down”

“Or what”

“I’ll make you,” he said very seriously. Potter smirked.

“Wow, you’re so scary! Someone help me, Draco Malfoy threatened to make me sit down.
You big bad wolf,” he said ironically. Draco glared at him.

“Sit the fuck down or I go inside”

“What makes you think I want you here anyway?” he shot back easily.

Draco smirked. “Well, you’re still there, aren’t you?”

“That’s my spot. I won’t leave it, especially not for you,” he huffed.

This time, it was Draco who rolled his eyes. “Right, you and your spots,” he mumbled.

“What does that mean?” he asked, offended.

“What do you think it means? I remember clearly we had that conversation a while ago, at
the top of the astronomy tower”

“You’re right and I remember you tried to steal it from me, that time as well”

“You’re ridiculous, Potter,” he deadpanned.

“And you’re an arrogant piece of shit, I guess we can’t always win,” he shrugged.

“You know what? Keep jumping on that thing. I hope you’ll fall and die,” he snapped.

“As if,” Draco shook his head and stood up. He struggled to reach the exit but when he did,
Potter stopped bouncing as he gave him a look. “Where are you going?” he asked, a small
pout on his lips.

“Where do you think I’m going, Potter?” he snapped.

“I don’t know that’s why I ask,” he said confused.

“And I thought you were a bit smarter than that. My fault, really, for giving you more credit
than you apparently deserve,” he said.

“No but really, you’re not going inside, right?”

“Of course I am!” he hissed.

“Why?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Draco gave him a look before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I believe it’s painfully
obvious. You don’t wanna talk and I really don’t wanna be near you,” he said.

“Please, stay,” he said eagerly, desperate at the thought of watching him leave as he played
with the hem of his shirt.

“Why?” he glared at him.

“I told you, you… feel normal,” he pressed his lips together.

Draco looked at him blankly before he pursed his lips and exhaled loudly – and quite
dramatically, let’s not lie – through the nose.

“Alright, but you sit the fuck down,” he said with a glare.

Potter nodded as he sat down. Draco looked at him warily before he came back to the centre
to lay down, like before. Potter mimicked him shortly after, his arms folded behind his head
as he used them as a pillow.

They didn’t look at each other after that and they even remained quiet, a real feat when we
know they almost had another fight a few moments ago. Draco tried his best not to pay him
any attention despite they were laying side by side as his eyes locked on the clouds. It
reminded him of the times he spent travelling with his parents, when he’d look out the
window for as long as the trip lasted.

Were they the same clouds he used to look at? Or did they change just like his life did?

Perhaps there really was nothing left of that time he often fantasied about. It was a shame that
he didn’t know at the time he’d miss it one day. Had he known, he would have enjoyed it as
much as possible. But nothing last and nothing remained, as much as he hated it. Nothing but
the memories filling his head and making his heart aching.

That was stupid.

Slowly, he realised he couldn’t hear Potter’s loud breathing like he did a few moments ago.
When Draco turned his head to check on him, he saw Potter’s features relaxing as his
breathing evened and Draco could fully enjoy the immensity of the sky as though Potter
wasn’t by his side, now.

It was so easy to forget he was there when he was silent. Though, Draco wondered how that
was even possible for him to be, as far as he knew Potter couldn’t shut his mouth more than
ten minutes. However, that rule didn’t seem to apply to their meetings in the Astronomy
tower nor did it apply right now, as they looked at the clouds.

As he refocused on the sky, Draco’s thoughts wandered from a place to another. The wind
rustled through the trees despite the lack of leaves covering them and it blew gently in their
hair, pushing a few strands to the right of their faces. He couldn’t help but thinking about his
mother, with everything that happened with Potter’s since he woke up.

“I missed her… All my life I missed her and she was…,” Potter said softly before he
swallowed around a wave of emotions bursting in.

Draco was startled to hear his voice after losing himself so much in his own head but he
didn’t reply. Not a lot of people knew but Draco was very gifted when it came to listen to
people. It was a skill he developed after years of friendship with Pansy.

Pansy… Merlin, he missed her too.

“You know, it’s funny. Sometimes, before I went to bed, I prayed to whatever God who
would listen to bring my mother back. I wanted her so bad. I needed her,” he said, his voice
thick with sadness. “And she wasn’t there. Though, she could have been but she chose not to
be,” he continued.

This time, Draco felt like he should speak up and so he did.

“She did not. It wasn’t her choice,” he offered gently.

“Was it not?” he snorted as though he didn’t believe him.

“No it was not. But if you want to know what happened, you’ll have to talk to her,” he half-
shrugged.
“I’m not sure I can,” he whispered sadly, then he bit his bottom lip as he tried to contain his
emotions inside.

If it had been any other moment, Draco would have made so much fun of him for being such
an idiot, an incapable idiot who felt too much and hid too little. But it was not any other
moment and even though being an arse was a second nature, Draco also knew how to be
respectful when it mattered.

He didn’t do it for Potter though, he did it for Sirius. At that point, Potter could still go fuck
himself but Draco really wanted to stay with Remus and Sirius even just for a few days so he
wouldn’t have to go back to the manor so he tried to keep his promise.

Draco didn’t know he could simply ask to stay and Sirius and Remus would find a way to
make it happen. In his mind – and because of the way he’d been raised – he believed to be
cared for, he had to deserve it. Not because of his mother, but because of Lucius.
Unsurprisingly, it was a principle he only applied with men, never with women because his
mother always loved him unconditionally.

Perhaps was it the reason he took Pansy’s friendship for granted, though he liked to think he
didn’t.

Draco sighed softly as he looked at Potter. His tearful eyes brought out the intense green out
of his irises, making them look like the purest jewels. A forest. A green, beautiful forest.
That’s what it reminded him of. His eyes made him think of the leaves in the trees back in the
forest the first night he spent with Sirius and Remus after the full moon, when he ran away
and they looked for him.

He still remembered to this day how beautiful it had been to look at the sunset kissing the
green leaves in the trees when the rain finally stopped pouring. That’s what Potter’s eyes
reminded him as he looked straight into it. They usually were beautiful, but today as silver
met emerald, Draco felt overwhelmed with an intense sensation of safety.

That day in the forest had been the beginning of everything, after all. Look where he was,
now, thanks to it.

“I still think you should talk to her,” he said eventually. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,
just that… Well. You prayed to have her back and now she is. She’s literally right across the
garden, on the other side of the door and you’re here sulking and jumping on a trampoling
like a toddler just to avoid her when your wish has been granted”

“It’s trampoline, not trampoling,” he corrected, though he still looked like he was sulking.

“That’s the same shit. The thing is, life is a bitch. It takes a lot from you and it very rarely
gives anything in return, from my experience. Today, life’s given you a second chance and
you’re wasting it away. I’m not saying it’s not hard for you and I’m not pretending I
understand what you’re going through, I’m just saying you’re being ungrateful for the things
you have,” he said. As he spoke, his tone soured before he even finished his speech.
He did wish to the stars as well, to have his uncle back. And he did try hard to get his
memories of Regulus back but none of those had been granted. Rodolphus was still dead and
he still had no idea who Regulus was before he met him at Hogwarts. That was unfair.

Of course the Golden Boy would have such a charming plot twist in his life. Something
someone like Draco would never deserve.

“I’m not being ungrateful!” he defended himself.

“Yes, you are. I’ve lost people too and they never came back. I will never see them again. I
know how that feels to grieve someone you love, you’re not special on that one. But that
woman genuinely cares about you, I could tell when she told us her story and she’s alive.
She’s alive Potter, and she’s actually so close that you could just walk in and hug her. How
many people do you reckon would kill to have that chance?”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Malfoy but that’s different. No, hear me out before you protest.
That’s different because she never actually died. I never had to mourn her in first place since
she never died at all. I thought she was dead but she was not. She abandoned me, that’s what
she did. I had to grow up without her, wondering what I had done to deserve that and feeling
guilty because I was convinced I– I…,” his bottom lips trembled and he had to take a deep
breath not to cry on spot. Once he calmed down enough to finish his sentence, he did. “I was
convinced my own mother had been killed because of me. I always thought I’d killed her,” he
released a shuddering breath.

Draco pitied him, really. He could see his point and he understood what it meant and where
he came from when he put it like this. He didn’t know what he would’ve done had he killed
his mother. Living with that knowledge felt absolutely terrible.

“I had that guilt living within, growing as I grew up, as I realised how dreadful I was. And
everyone claimed I was the key to their salute. But I’m no hero, Malfoy. What kind of hero
kills his own mother? I know people say it’s Voldemort who did it, but had I not existed he
wouldn’t have done that at all. I was responsible for her death and now… Now I don’t even
know anymore. And even if she’s alive, it means my grandma still died because of me. I
killed her.

And now, on top of it all I found out my mother’s alive…What if I… What if I was
responsible for her departure? What if that prophecy was too much and she had to leave
because she couldn’t stand having a son like me? What if I just wasn’t enough? I carried this
guilt with me for as long as I can remember and now everyone’s telling me that I should be
grateful that she’s in fact alive but… I can’t. Malfoy, I just can’t”

Draco pursed his lips in silence as he tried to find the words to comfort him a bit. That wasn’t
part of the deal he made with Sirius but it felt too important to pretend like it wasn’t
happening, like Potter didn’t need comfort. And no matter what Draco liked to think, he had a
soft heart and was no monster.

“That’s why I think you should talk to her. No one said anything about forgiving her, that’s
up to you. But you can’t make a reasonable choice without hearing her out first. She’s your
mother, she loves you and she tries to be there now that she can. I’m sure she just wants
what’s best for you,” he said.

Potter gave him a strange look. A few seconds later, he nodded slowly and swallowed.
“Yeah… Maybe…”

“You can’t hide in here forever anyway, there’s no roof to that thing and with your luck
there’s a high chance a bird thinks your hair is a nest, what with the way it looks like,” he
tried to joke to make him feel better. It drew a small smile out of him and Draco considered it
was a victory.

“You’re right. Okay. I can hear what she has to say. It doesn’t mean I’d have to forgive her or
anything,” he said as he tried to convince himself.

“Indeed,” he nodded.

Potter stood up and walked easily towards the exit of the trampoline – the bastard – but
before he could walk out, he looked at Draco and asked.

“What about you? Is everything okay with your mother?”

Draco narrowed his eyes, a bit startled by the sudden question. “Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something you said earlier,” he shrugged.

“It’ll be okay,” he said as he nodded curtly.

Potter hummed and nodded. “Right. Well.. Thank you,” he said before he left to go inside.
Draco watched as he opened the door.

He couldn’t believe it worked. Never in his life had he thought he could have a decent
conversation with Potter without hexing each other’s bollocks off. They really sucked at
talking usually, so why did Draco feel a bit disappointed that it was already over? Maybe it
was because they both knew there was no way it’d happen again and it had been surprisingly
not so bad, perhaps even a bit pleasant.

Okay, maybe ‘pleasant’ was a bit much, let’s say it hadn’t been as awful as he thought it
would have been.

The minutes passed and Draco didn’t move from the trampoline, his head still in the clouds
as he admired the shape they took as they were pushed by the wind. He replayed the
conversation they just had and he tried to make a parallel with his own situation, using his
own advice to solve his problems.

Maybe he should give his mother a chance, just like he suggested Potter to do. Maybe if he
gave her a chance to explain, actually explain and not just pretend he listened to her just to
scream at her as soon as he wouldn’t want to listen anymore, then maybe he’d understand her
point of view on the matter that torn them apart.
He was brought back to Earth when a raindrop hit his cheek, just under his eye. He sighed but
he didn’t waste his time before he crawled towards the exit. That was humiliating but he
refused to look like a drenched dog and it was the quickest – and the safest – way to exit the
trampoline so he didn’t think about it twice and he crawled. As soon as his feet met the soiled
ground, Draco ran towards the porch.

He didn’t reach it yet that James and Sirius came out of the house at the same time he put a
foot on one of the stairs. Sirius immediately grinned at him.

“Oh, hi pup! Thank you for talking to him, really,” he smiled.

“That wasn’t free,” he reminded him.

“Trust me I know. It costed quite a lot,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

“Your dignity, for one,” Draco deadpanned and James cackled next to him.

“Really though, thank you Draco. I don’t know what you said to him but now he’s upstairs
with Lily. Hopefully everything will be alright,” James smiled.

“Yes, hopefully,” he nodded.

“Do you want to share a cigarette?” Sirius offered as he took his packet out.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Pads, he’s sixteen,” James said a bit surprised.

“Yeah and? We started smoking when we were fourteen,” he replied.

“Oh, the last time you said that he ended up with a dragon tattooed on his back,” he chuckled.

“And now it’s a cigarette in his mouth,” he smirked. “I’m a bad influence ain’t I?”

“I think you’re alright,” Draco said as he put the cigarette in his mouth after Sirius lit it up for
him.

They chuckled and Sirius began to smoke too, releasing the smoke away from James who
was not smoking with them. The conversation came easily between Sirius and James but
Draco didn’t interject like he did when they smoked with Remus, instead he listened to them
vaguely as he returned to his thoughts.

He had no idea how long had passed the next time he opened his mouth, just that he was half-
way through his cigarette and that a lingering thought came to his mind and he needed to say
it aloud.

“Were you both at the ministry of magic in June?” he asked. They gave him a strange look as
they instantly stopped laughing. “When my father was arrested?” he supplied.
James shifted uncomfortably and Sirius cleared his voice after he released smoke through his
nose. “We were,” he replied as James remained quiet. “Why?”

“It’s just… Well, there’s not many people I can ask, right? My father is in jail, my mother
wasn’t there and Bella is…,” he sighed. “Let’s say it’s a bit touchy to talk about it with her”

“Alright,” Sirius said slowly and carefully. “What do you want to ask?”

“I don’t know how to say it. It’s just… I don’t even know why I ask, really. It’s just I kind of
mentioned him earlier while talking to Potter and.. uh…”

“Yes?”

“What happened to Rodolphus?” he asked hesitantly.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know. He remembered what his mother had said in her
letter. Bellatrix came home after the disaster that had occurred at the ministry and she simply
told Narcissa that Lucius had been arrested and her husband was dead. But she never went
into details and Draco wondered what had happened.

Paradoxically, Draco knew Rodolphus better than he knew Bellatrix. Indeed, when the first
war ended, Rodolphus went into hiding while Bellatrix has been sentenced to Azkaban. They
never managed to catch him and so he got to live a normal life for as long as it lasted.

Draco wasn’t stupid, he knew his uncle was a death eater. But he’d been present in his life all
the same and he had never been awful to him, on the contrary. Draco had a lot of affection for
the other man.

His death had shocked him but he didn’t take the time to grieve because he was still at
Hogwarts when it happened and then everything went to shit too fast that, to this day, he still
didn’t have the time to catch his breath. Talking about it with Potter made him realise how
bad he missed him and now he wanted to know what had happened to him.

He hoped Sirius or James would have an answer to give him, no matter what it was.

James looked properly pale now despite his brown skin and Sirius didn’t look any better –
though he always was a bit pale anyway. It gave Draco the confirmation that the men knew
something. They probably even were the reason he was dead considering James looked way
too guilty.

“I won’t be mad, I promise. I just want to know what happened to my uncle,” he said softly
after no one answered him. “It was you, wasn’t it?” he asked to James.

James looked at his shoes and bit his lip. When he lifted his head to look at Draco, he took a
deep breath and he finally spoke. “I didn’t mean to…”

Draco swallowed. “How did it happen?”

“It was chaotic inside the ministry at the time,” Sirius spoke. “We had to protect the children,
make sure the death eaters wouldn’t leave before the Aurors arrived and then at some point
Voldemort even showed up. It was… It was such a mess,” he said.

“We were gathered in a big empty room. There was nothing but a weird veil planted in the
centre and no one knew what it was but we could almost all hear the voices coming from it,”
James continued. “That’s where most of the fighting occurred”

“I was duelling with your father when Rodolphus backed him up,” Sirius pursued. “James
joined me and we duelled until I disarmed your father, James disarmed Rodolphus not so
long after”

“That’s when it happened,” James swallowed. “I really didn’t mean to. I was just trying to
protect Sirius, that’s it. With your father disarmed and Rodolphus neutralised, there was
nothing to worry about on this side of the room. We hadn’t noticed we had approached the
veil so much while fighting, we were barely a meter away,” he explained.

“Bellatrix loomed out of the blue, we didn’t see her coming. She aimed a spell at me and
that’s when James reacted”

“I was just trying to redirect the spell elsewhere so Sirius wouldn’t be hurt but I redirected it
right to Rodolphus. He stumbled a bit on the side when it hit him and before we knew it he
was dead. He tried to catch himself but his hand traversed the veil and his body followed,”
James explained. “I’m sorry Draco”

Draco nodded slowly, his chest tight with emotion though he felt slightly relieved to finally
know the truth. He wanted to be mad at James for killing his uncle but his brain involuntarily
created a parallel and he imagined himself in James’ shoes. He would’ve done the same to
protect Blaise, he knew it.

“Thank you, for telling me,” he whispered as he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray Sirius
had brought with him.

“Sure,” James nodded.

Draco didn’t stay outside any longer after that and he left the two men on the porch as he
opened the door and walked inside the house, his head bowed. His heart swelled with grief as
he walked upstairs. Just because he wasn’t mad didn’t mean he wasn’t upset.

He closed the bedroom door behind him before he let himself fall on the bed, his head buried
between the pillows as he encircled them with his arms, just like he did earlier in the
morning. Finally, his chest tightened too much and he sobbed drily. Once, twice, thrice. And
then came the cries.

After all those months, he finally got the chance to cry an uncle he loved and respected. The
man may have been a monster but Draco never saw him that way and so he cried hard until
the first signs of a headache showed. Then he tried to calm down but he still cried himself to
sleep. His chest felt ever so slightly lighter after that good cry but he wasn’t done grieving
just yet.

In fact, it was just a beginning.

 The Meeting
Chapter Notes

Hello I'm back!! My exams are over!

TW alcohol
CW mention of death
CW unhealthy coping mechanisms

Monday 4th of November 1996.

Despite Sirius’ generous offer Draco had more than deserved after that talk with Potter which
had meant self-sacrificing himself to help him, Draco chose to go home.

Not because he didn’t want to stay. Not because he wasn’t sure whether or not it was wise to
stay nor because he had a change of heart but because he genuinely believed it was the thing
to do. Having that conversation with Potter about his mother had cleared up his mind a bit
and he decided he wanted to have a conversation with his own mother, too. Maybe if they
talked, things could go back to normal. However, Draco couldn’t do that if he stayed, so he
went home.

Besides, after he found out what had happened to his uncle, he just wanted to go home and be
near her. He felt a bit childish but her presence would have comforted him and perhaps they
could take the time to look at the family photos together, just to remember the good old days.

He revalued the worth he gave to life and he decided it was too short to be angry with her, no
matter how legit it was. He wanted to give her a chance to explain herself.

It might seem a little silly because it was Draco’s reality but it was exactly why sometimes he
tended to forget. That conversation with Sirius and James brought him back to it. To the war.
Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A battle for a better world, one his uncle lost,
sentencing Draco to live in a world he’ll never get to see.

So Draco went home, after he woke up from his nap. He felt weirdly empty when he woke up
but no one mentioned the weird tension stiffening his shoulders as his eyes looked dull.
Remus had offered him a cup of tea that he drank before he left Grimmauld Place, grateful,
and Sirius had taken him home in silence.

They had barely exchange a few words when they said goodbye, but it wasn’t uncomfortable
or weird. Sirius looked understanding and Draco just didn’t know what to say. Sirius left him
in the countryside, under the very same tree where he left him the first time he took him
home in July. This time, Sirius squeezed his shoulder gently before leaving, giving him a
small smile that Draco returned tightly. Then, Sirius had cast a patronus to let Remus know
he was on his way back home and he had left a few moments later.

Draco couldn’t even feel jealous about the patronus anymore, he felt too exhausted and he
just wanted to go home. His feet dragged him wearily to the manor. When he entered he
promised himself he would make a show of avoiding the death eaters in his living-room but
in fact there was no one here. The manor was strangely empty.

There wasn’t a soul but his in there.

Wednesday 6th of November 1996.

It lasted two days.

Two endless days during which he was left alone with himself. He regretted bitterly not
staying with Sirius in those conditions but what was done was done and there was no way to
change it so he patiently waited until someone come home.

The first night, he’d asked Verdie to cook him a meal and he had eaten in his bedroom while
reading a good book.

The second night, however, didn’t go as smoothly. Draco was drowning in his own self-
deprecating thoughts. That’s what being alone did to him, it turned out. He used to love
loneliness and now… Now he just wished he could bury every single thoughts and escape
from his own head which was constantly reminding him what kind of person he was
becoming. He tried to read to forget but it didn’t help and after two in the morning, he was
still very awake and anxious.

Eventually, he’d got bored and he’d decided to do something to fix his mood – something
stupid – and so he went downstairs, in the dungeons, and he took a bottle of wine out of his
father’s personal wine cellar. A morbid thought bloomed on its own accord as he couldn’t
help but be grateful no one was held captive in here tonight – which could only mean the
prisoners had been killed. Morbid, really.

It was with this thought in mind, feeling completely sick, selfish and disgusted with himself
to even think about it that he went back to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
He’d downed the bottle within a hour and fell asleep crying and curled in a ball half a hour
later, drunk and depressed.

It hadn’t been a good day.

Tonight, Draco went back to reading, a healthier way to cope with everything as he escaped
in imaginary worlds and tried to forget the misery of his own existence. He was kept awake
until late at night to finish the book – he couldn’t sleep anyway. Around ten, he promised
himself it was the last chapter he’d read and then he’d call it a night but one chapter quickly
became two and two became three. In the end, he read the book in its entirety and finished
well after midnight.
He was now brushing his teeth in his private bathroom, the book was now finished and he
thought he should try to go to sleep. That was when he heard the front door opening.
Immediately alarmed by the intruders coming well past midnight, he dropped the toothbrush
in the sink and cleaned his mouth on a towel.

He froze to listen to every sound he could possibly hear but after the door closed downstairs,
there was nothing else to listen to but his own ragged breathing as he tried not to let the panic
overwhelming him. His sense alarmed, he let his wand slide in the palm of his hand and
decided to be brave. He walked to the living-room, his wand raised, ready to defend himself
and his ancestors house. He didn’t make a sound, not even when he walked downstairs, his
feet carefully avoiding every single creaking spot of the wood as he walked slowly.

He almost cast a spell when he saw a flash of blonde – almost white – hair but he didn’t. He
recognised his father so easily. Though, perhaps he should have hexed him and pretend he
didn’t recognise him. That was a great opportunity he just missed. A shame, really.

However, Draco didn’t lower his wand as he approached his parents and Lucius raised his
hands in defence and Narcissa eyed him with concern, as though she expected him to actually
curse them.

“Identify yourselves,” he said calmly.

Lucius shot him a glare before he answered. “You know exactly who I am!”

“Maybe I should hex you then,” he retorted.

“Draco,” Narcissa said, a warning in her voice. Draco didn’t pay her any attention.

“I said: identify yourselves,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

Lucius’ nose wrinkled with irritation but he did as he was told. “I was with you the first time
you flew on a broom, I even paid for it. It was in the south of Italy,” he said. Draco pursed his
lips but he slid his wand up his sleeve and sighed, disappointed now he had no reason to hex
him anymore.

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice colder than he aimed for.

His parents exchanged a glance, the same kind he saw Remus and Sirius exchanging a
million times, now. He repressed the urge to run a hand through his hair, his father would
have disapproved surely and he didn’t want another fight, especially not so late at night.

He glanced at them curiously, waiting for an answer which wouldn’t come. He knew it when
he saw his father’s face harden in an unreadable mask. Draco hated when he did that, but he
supposed he couldn’t complain because he did the same.

Merlin, that was true. He did the same! He had to stop doing that, as soon as possible. He
really hated being like him.

“You should be asleep,” Lucius said instead of answering his question.

“I had no idea I had a curfew,” he replied, challenging.

Narcissa pinched her lips, waiting for another fight to break out.

“You’re only sixteen. Being up after two in the morning is not okay. But if you can’t manage
your time, perhaps would you rather I set one for you?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Oh so when it comes to sleep after midnight I’m just a kid but when you sold me to the Dark
Lord to fix your mistakes, I was old enough,” he scoffed. “Always two-tiered reasoning, I
see”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with what we’re currently talking about,” he hissed.

“Maybe not to you,” he snapped. “Make up your mind, father,” he said disdainfully.

“Draco–“ Narcissa tried, taking a step forward while Lucius was turning red. Draco took a
step back.

“No,” he said coldly. “You know what? I don’t care. Whatever you do isn’t my business. I am
tired, I’m going to sleep”

“Do that,” Lucius said lowly.

Draco glared at him and he decided to be a little shit just because he could. Before he turned
his back and ran upstairs, taking the steps twice at a time, he gave him a nasty smile and said
“Bonne nuit”.

He heard Lucius gritting his teeth and complaining to Narcissa under his breath. Draco shook
his head as he reached the first floor, strutting his way to his bedroom. He’d have to thank
León for wishing them goodnight in French at night. When he reached his bedroom, he
slammed the door behind him.

“Don’t slam the door!” he heard Lucius chastising him from downstairs.

“Fuck off,” he muttered before he sat on his bed and put his hands on his face, breathing
deeply.

He was really mad but he decided he wouldn’t lash out. Nothing happened, his father was
just the usual arsehole he was, nothing new under the sun so really, he had no reasons to be so
pissed off. Still, he pulled on his hair as he tried to overcome the anger. His eyes fell on the
drawer of his desk, he knew what was there. The chocolates Remus gave him. They always
did wonder on his mood. But as his eyes looked at it more intendedly, he decided he wouldn’t
have one.

No.

Tonight, he’d handle it on his own. He had to try anyway, he couldn’t just rely on the
chocolates every time he felt like breaking things or whenever he got too angry it got
overwhelming. Eventually, he splayed on his bed, spreading his limbs like a starfish. His eyes
locked on the ceiling as he tried to calm down.
He really wanted to have a nice conversation with his mother but his father didn’t make it
easy for him at all. His eyes darted slowly from a point to another as his breathing slowed
down. Eventually his eyes fluttered shut until they didn’t open again.

He fell asleep slightly less angry than before and he took that as an improvement. A few
months back, he would have probably smashed half of his things out of anger. He was
progressing when it came to handling his emotions. It was so hard what with the wolf
interfering constantly but he had to get a tight grip on them or else he wouldn’t survive
through the incoming war.

He’d have to tell Remus he managed on his own tonight, surely that would make him proud.
That thought made him smile slowly.

Thursday 7th of November 1996.

“Again!” Bellatrix said as she paced the room, her eyes stitched on Draco who was trying
desperately to imperius four mice at once. It was way harder than he thought it would be.

The classes with his aunt had begun so early in the morning. He kind of regretted not
sleeping earlier last night. Perhaps his father was right, maybe he did need a curfew. She had
woken him up at a quarter to five in the morning, saying she expected him downstairs at five
sharp.

After sleeping barely two hours – during which he had a nightmare of the day he had been
bitten – Draco felt dead on his feet and he struggled to stay awake, his eyes shutting on their
own accord. His mind replayed the nightmare in his head over and over again when he
suddenly realised something – something big!

How could Greyback bite him that day whereas the moon hadn’t risen yet?

Perhaps the memory was twisted – he was badly injured after all – but he was convinced the
full moon came later that night. As he searched his memory to find something – anything –
proving his point, his mind came up with a proof of it. If the moon had risen already, Remus
couldn’t have written that note he left for him or even cook him a meal.

So how did Greyback do that?

Draco didn’t know but he didn’t have the time to think about it after he woke up. He barely
had the time to cast a cleaning spell on him and put on some clothes before he was late. He
needed to focus on the day he had to face or else he’d fail. However, he promised himself
he’d talk about it with Remus next time he’d see him. A quick glance at his trunk was all it
took before he uncapped one of the phial filled with invigorating draughts and downed it in a
couple of gulp.

He knew he made a promise but he wouldn’t survive the day without it and he couldn’t afford
to be more lifeless than a rag doll.

He had a meeting with the Dark Lord today.

Despite the potion, Draco felt dizzy, his head spun a bit when he turned it too fast and he felt
like he was weak but at least he was very awake, his pupils blown wide, making him look
like he was high. For once, the moon was on his side, causing his emotions to shut down to
let him focus harder than ever which honestly served him well.

“Imperio!” he said again, his voice firm as he tried to bewitch the mice in front of him.
Bellatrix smirked as she watched him forcing two mice to run in circles effortlessly, the third
one was spinning on itself while the fourth one didn’t move at all.

“It’s great, keep trying! Again!” she encouraged.

Draco broke the spell and took a moment to breathe. He was getting frustrated.

It had been hours since he began working on it and despite his shirt stuck to his skin because
of sweat, he had achieved nothing. He was exhausted, mentally and physically and he could
still feel exhaustion catching up on him as the hours passed. He wanted to have a break, he
wanted to stop. But Bellatrix out-rightly refused and he had to keep trying.

“Imperio!” he cast again after he mustered more power and channelled it in one spot before
he released it all into the spell.

Five hours.

It had been five hours, with absolutely no break.

He didn’t know how long he could keep doing that before breaking down but he was going to
find out soon because there was no way he’d stop until he succeeded.

It took two more hours before Draco managed to make three mice move at the same time,
utterly submitted to his will. After a quick fifteen minutes break he had to eat a sandwich
Verdie had made for him, Draco had gone immediately back to practising.

Four more hours was what it took before he got the four of them under his spell. He was so
relieved when he finally succeeded. He was hoping he could rest a bit now he did it. He’d
been practising for so long, after all.

But now he succeeded, Bellatrix pushed him to try harder. She wanted him to succeed with
no problem, she didn’t want his magic to resist him and she wanted to see his powers in
action, casting effortlessly the spells and so she forced him to practise more and more until
the sunset. When six in the evening came, Draco was finally allowed to stop but for the sole
reason the Dark Lord had arrived and the meeting was about to begin.

Draco wanted to die – not actually but in a dramatic way.

He didn’t want to go to the meeting and he didn’t want to listen to the Dark Lord for a whole
hour. It felt too much after the busy day he had. He just wanted to lay down and sleep. But
since no one asked for his opinion, Draco just followed as everyone entered in the dining-
room, where they all gathered for the meeting each time there was one. Draco sat between his
parents, Bellatrix on the opposite side of the table, next to Dolohov and Yaxley.
Greyback gave Draco a nasty smile when he entered and sat, taking the sit right in front of
him. Draco tried not to stare. The Carrow twins were sitting next to each other, on his
mother’s right. Snape took the sit next to them. Everyone was here. Everyone that mattered,
at least. Draco swallowed. It couldn’t be good. He never reunited all his followers at once.

Draco shivered when he heard the distinct CRAC and the Dark Lord appeared, Nagini
wrapped around his shoulders as he held her in his hands. He quickly left her snaking on the
ground. Draco watched her as she wrapped herself around the painting frame she always took
for a nest whenever she was here. Draco’s face remained blank when the Dark Lord’s eyes
fell on him and he calmly clasped his hands on top of the table as he tried to remain brave.

“Alecto,” the Dark Lord drawled, his fingertips caressing the wood of the table as he moved
towards her. The woman raised her head to look at him, carefully avoiding looking into his
eyes. A mark of respect, not submission.

“My Lord,” she said as she bowed her head.

Alecto Carrow was a young witch, she must have been around twenty. She looked like any
average person. Nothing about her was special, if not for the grey hair falling down over her
shoulder and her wrinkled face despite her youth.

A family curse, Draco had learned from his mother.

The Carrow family was an ancient pure-blood family and after years of inbreeding, their
magical core was slowly corrupted by an ancient family curse, killing them slowly after each
spell they cast. Each spell costed them a few days of life and that’s how Alecto got her grey
hair. Her magic was literally killing her.

Draco couldn’t imagine such thing. It looked absolutely terrible. It was the worst nightmare
of any pureblood, being sentenced to a muggle life or die.

“Did he speak?” The Dark Lord asked patiently.

“Not yet my Lord, but he should speak soon,” she answered easily.

The Dark Lord hummed before he moved closer to her and towered her with his full height.
“I need those information, and I need them now!” he hissed.

“You’ll have them,” she promised.

“When?” he snapped.

“Before tonight”

The Dark Lord looked at her blankly before the ghost of a smile flashed on his lips and
disappeared as fast as it appeared. “Good,” he nodded before he walked back to where he was
in first place. “Bella? Any news from our friends?” he asked.

“They have a lead, from what I heard, but I don’t mind going back and cutting more fingers
earlier than expected if it is what it takes. You just have to say the word, my Lord,” she
replied.

The Dark Lord looked at her and nodded. “Do it, Bella. Remind them I don’t like waiting,”
then he turned to look at Snape. “Any news from Hogwarts?”

Snape straightened his back and laced his fingers above the table. “In fact, yes, my Lord.
Dumbledore is said to be looking for something. A… weapon,” he drawled. “I still don’t
know what kind but he seems positive it could be decisive to win the war”

A muscle in the Dark Lord’s cheek twitched as he pressed his lips and looked utterly
murderous all of a sudden. “You better find what it is, and quickly. We can’t suffer another
defeat and I will not let him ruin our plans!” he hissed again.

Snape bowed his head in acknowledgement and the Dark Lord turned to look at Yaxley.

“What about you? How is it going?”

“Dolohov and myself had an idea I’m sure will please you, my Lord. May we discuss it in
private?” he said as he eyed Draco subtly. Draco didn’t miss it though and he almost gulped.
The Dark Lord glanced at him as well and Draco carefully avoided to look back. It was only
when he refocused on Yaxley that Draco looked at him again.

“Sure. Stay up tonight, I’ll let you know when and where we’ll meet,” he said.

“Thank you my Lord,” Yaxley bowed his head.

When it was sorted, the Dark Lord turned to look at Greyback whose lips immediately turned
up to reveal his yellow sharp fangs.

“Are they ready?” he simply asked.

“More than. There’s a coven in the North, it’s planned for on the tenth of this month. They
won’t know what’s coming for them and then they’d have no choice but turn to you for your
help, just like the first time,” Greyback sneered.

“This is excellent,” the Dark Lord said as his face darkened in a weird content expression.
“Everything is going according to the plan, I see. I shall expect nothing less but excellence
from every single one of you,” he said as he glanced at the people around the table quickly.
“Which leads to the last point but not the least…” he paused. “Draco? How is it going?” he
asked calmly.

Draco swallowed and cleared his voice before he dared to speak up. Everyone’s eyes were on
him and he felt terrified but he tried his best to hide it.

Fuck, he wished he could just be asleep right now.

“I’m going to use a vanishing cabinet to make everyone enter in the school. I found the
second one, it’s already in Hogwarts. I’m working on it,” he supplied. His voice quivered at
first but he managed to recover and keep it even as he spoke.
“How much have you done for now?” he asked.

“I’m still working on the runes engraved on the cabinet it takes time to–“

“How much?” he repeated.

Draco looked down. “Not much yet,” he replied, his voice quieter than earlier.

“What was that?”

Draco looked up and forced himself to hold his gaze. “I haven’t done much yet,” he repeated.
His hands were trembling under the table but for once he knew it wasn’t because of the
invigorating draught.

The Dark Lord clicked his tongue as he looked at him. “Ha, Draco. I must say I’m
disappointed,” he said with fake kindness. “I have high expectations for you, especially
because this mission is meant to help your family recover the honour your father shamefully
lost. Do you not care?” he asked as he approached him.

“I do, my Lord,” he replied and he forced himself to straighten his back as he began to sink in
the chair.

“I don’t think you do,” he replied. Then, the Dark Lord gave an order to Nagini in
Parseltongue and it sent shivers down Draco’s spine. Nagini left her spot and climbed on the
table before she snaked her way among the hands on the table. Everyone put them on their
knees as she passed and she stopped in front of Draco before she straightened to his level.
Draco gulped audibly.

“Do you know Nagini has one of the most venomous venom among all the snakes that exist?
Mainly because she used to be a witch and her magic still flows through her body. Do you
understand what I am saying?”

Draco shot him a confused look. “I–“

“One bite and you’re dead. Keep disappointing me and I’ll start by showing you what it does
on your lovely mother, what do you think about that? I demand results. And I want them
faster than that. Three months. You had three months and all you did was finding the second
cabinet? That is pathetic!” he hissed.

Draco nodded and bowed his head. He almost apologised but he knew the Dark Lord
wouldn’t be pleased so he kept his mouth shut and he took his hand in his other to keep it
from trembling so hard. He blinked discreetly to get rid of the tears in his eyes as anxiety
crawled back up and strangled him from within.

“I shall expect better from you but we all know who your father is,” he hissed. Then he
walked back to his initial spot and he looked at his followers gathered around the table. “The
meeting is over. You’re dismissed!” he said and he disapparated in a loud CRAC, Nagini
lofted around his neck.
Just like the other times, the room emptied itself quite quickly after that. Some disapparated
and some went back to their business. Draco stayed very still, his eyes darting from a point to
another as he grasped the gravity of the situation. He was terrified and he regretted talking to
Sirius and Remus about what was expected of him because now they knew and if anyone
found out he had told them, he was dead.

Why hadn’t he thought about it earlier?! Was he completely stupid?!

He was losing himself in the chaotic thoughts overwhelming him when someone put a hand
on his shoulder. When he turned to look at who was there, he met long and dark blonde hair
as well as clear brown eyes.

Antonin Dolohov.

Dolohov wasn’t particularly tall, perhaps as tall as the average person, but he was imposing.
Something about his demeanour forced respect and he was extremely charismatic. He looked
like one of those privateers from the sixteenth century with that long crimson leather coat
falling down to his ankles and the up-lifted collar kissing his cheeks. His dark blonde hair
was always tied in a sleek low ponytail or plaited at the back of his head with a white or
black bow and his beard was neatly shaved. He was elegant. The epitome of a pureblood heir.

He often was sent to rally people to the cause because he had a way with his words and was
extremely sociable among other qualities. Indeed, he was a brilliant duellist and an incredible
negotiator. He also probably was the Dark Lord’s most loyal partisan which made him
extremely valuable to the Dark Lord’s eyes.

“Can I sit?” he asked, his voice velvet and deep but also gentle. Draco nodded.

Dolohov didn’t speak for a moment, he looked like he wasn’t sure how to begin, in case he’d
spook him. “I know the Dark Lord is sometimes intransigent,” he began. Draco gave him a
curious look but didn’t speak. “But you shouldn’t take what he said too seriously,” he
continued.

“Why not? He seemed pretty serious to me,” he pressed his lips in a thin line.

Dolohov gave him a warm smile. “Oh no, he was. But that threat wasn’t for you,” he
explained.

“I’m sorry?”

“He would never hurt you. You’re his goose who lays golden eggs,” he clarified. Draco
frowned so Dolohov continued. “A major part of his plan relies on you. He won’t be able to
overthrow the ministry if he doesn’t get a hold on Hogwarts. And that is something only you
can give him”

“Snape could too,” he pointed out.

“No he couldn’t. Snape is watched, Dumbledore trusts him but he’s not completely stupid,
that old bat,” he chuckled. “However, he has absolutely no suspicions about you,” he said as
he pointed him with his index.

“How do you know?”

“That’s what Snape’s supposed to do this year,” he smiled. “Ensuring your task is not
compromised by any form of suspicions or obstacles,” he explained.

“You said that threat wasn’t for me?” he asked.

“It was a warning to everyone around the table. Look, I’ve been a death eater for over fifteen
years now and yet.. Never once have I seen him being so agitated. Something big is coming
and no matter the outcome, it’ll all be over soon”

Draco swallowed. He did think so too.

“Draco?” his father’s voice interrupted their conversation and so Draco looked up to see him
leaning on his cane in the door frame.

“What?” he asked coldly. Dolohov’s eyebrows shot up at his tone.

“Do not speak to me like that I–“

“I said: what?” he replied on the same tone as earlier.

Lucius snapped his mouth shut and glared at him before he approached.

“I really don’t understand why you suddenly decided to hate me so much but I will not
tolerate this behaviour anymore. You need to pull yourself together or I will do it for you!”

“I don’t think so,” he crossed his arms on his chest.

“Draco,” he hissed, his voice low. A warning.

“You can hit me all you want, I don’t owe you anything. Not anymore. I am doing my best
for this family, not for you. I hope that’s clear,” he said as he stood up.

“Oh but you do owe me a lot,” he replied.

“If it helps you sleep at night,” he said through gritted teeth before he walked out the door.

“Give him some time,” Draco heard Dolohov saying as he walked to the living-room where
his mother was sitting with his grandmother.

His face lighted up and he walked in to kiss his grandmother on her cheek. The old witch
laughed happily as she kissed him in return.

“Hello, would you look at that? My baby dragon grows up so fast,” Druella said while Draco
sat on the couch next to his mother who smiled as she looked at them.

“Grandma, you haven’t seen me in years. Of course I grew up,” he chuckled. “Are you
joining us for dinner?” he asked.
“Yes, we’re all having dinner together tonight. I thought it would be nice to catch up after so
long”

“Mother, don’t get me wrong. I’m more than happy to have you tonight but… What brings
you here?” Narcissa asked with curiosity.

Narcissa’s question was legit. Draco hadn’t seen his grandmother in years because she was
always to busy to attend the family dinners. He saw her at Christmas and on his birthday –
and that wasn’t every years – but apart from that, he hadn’t seen her much since he was
seven.

Druella’s smile faded as she looked between her daughter and her grandson. Draco frowned,
his expression becoming concerned as he felt alarmed by her mood-swing. Sure, he hadn’t
seen her in so many years but she usually was extremely cheerful whenever he was around.
That didn’t seem like her and it worried him.

“Mother?” Narcissa asked again, her face as concerned as Draco’s.

Druella sighed. “May have I a glass of wine first?” she asked.

“Of course,” Narcissa said as she began to stand up. Draco jumped on his feet immediately.

“I’ve got it mum, don’t bother,” he said as he went to the kitchen where his father was now
talking with Dolohov and Yaxley.

Draco ignored them and poured a glass for his mother and one for his grandmother. He
hesitated a second but he decided to pour one for himself as well because whatever she had to
say, it couldn’t be good, not what with the way she looked miserable earlier.

He flicked his wand and the glasses flew in the air to reach the person he had poured them
for. When he came back in the room, his mother was holding her glass but didn’t drink and
his grandmother was already downing hers. Draco sat on the couch next to his mother and
took a sip of his own drink.

“Mother? What’s going on?” Narcissa asked again.

Druella lazily circled the rim of the glass with her finger before she finally spoke. “I’m
dying,” she admitted.

Narcissa put the glass on the coffee table and brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes welling
up at eye sight. Draco’s jaw clenched as he swallowed harshly passed the lump forming in his
throat. Whatever he thought she would say, it wasn’t that. He wasn’t prepared for that blow.

“Grandma,” he breathed with sadness.

“I know. But I’m getting really old and it’s only a matter of time before I die anyway. It’s
peculiar to human beings,” she replied, defeated.

“Did you– does Bella knows?” Narcissa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes. I told her two days ago,” she said.

“And… And… Well,” she stumbled on her words. “Are you going to– do you plan on telling
Andy?” she asked, unsure.

Druella’s eyes go hard and cold at the mention of her daughter. “Do not speak that name!”
she hissed.

“She deserves to know,” Narcissa insisted. “You’re her mother as well”

“I haven’t been for a while,” she deadpanned before she sighed. “My beautiful, beautiful
daughter. You’ve always got a soft heart but you know I could never talk to her again. She
betrayed us – all of us, you included – when she picked that mudblood over her family and
ran away to marry him. She doesn’t deserve to know. She’s not my family anymore,” she
added, her tone definitive.

Narcissa bowed her head and nodded. She looked so young at the moment that Draco felt the
need to comfort her. Therefore, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and he pulled her to
his chest to give her a hug.

“How long do you have?” She asked, her voice small and sad, her head resting against
Draco’s shoulder.

“No one’s sure of it yet. The doctors at St Mungo’s are talking about a few years. Two,
perhaps three in the best cases”

Three years. It was so short compared to what Draco hoped to have with her. He wanted her
to be here for his wedding day and perhaps even meet her grand-grandchildren when he’ll
have his own kids. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

Why did it feel like all he did lately was grieving the people he lost, the dreams he abandoned
and the hopes he left to die? That wasn’t fair.

“Draco?” Druella said after a moment of silence. He looked at her as he refocused on what
was going on. “Would you mind playing a song for me and your mother? I would love to hear
you playing again,” she asked.

Draco swallowed and nodded. “Anything you want grandma. Do you want me to play the
cello or the piano?” he asked.

“The cello. I want to hear what you can do now,” she asked with a smile.

Draco returned it tightly and nodded before he put his glass on the coffee table to stand up
and went to his bedroom to take his instrument. When he came back in the living-room,
Narcissa had blanched a lot compared to how she looked like when he left and he wondered
what they had talked about while he was gone the past five minutes.

He didn’t ask though. He didn’t want to intrude.

Instead, he sat on a stool he placed in the middle of the living-room and he put the cello
between his thighs before he began to play. He wasn’t sure what she would like to hear so he
played his own composition, the one he’d written based on his memory of the forest.

The Wolf’s Ballad rocked his grandmother to sleep as her eyes fluttered. Draco kept playing
for his mother long after Druella was asleep. He hadn’t done that in so long and he knew it
helped her to feel better.

The flames in the fireplace danced to the rhythm of his melody, casting dark shadows on the
walls and enlightening his mother’s pale complexion with shades of yellow, orange and red
as she laid on the couch, the back of her hand on her forehead and the other resting peacefully
on her stomach as she closed her eyes and listened.

Draco couldn’t cope with the news of his grandmother’s soon-to-come death so he poured his
feelings in the cello and he lost himself in the music, like he often did. No matter how much
it hurt, he couldn’t dwell on it. Tomorrow was a new day and people had high expectations
for him. For now, he played until it hurt and he dove head-first in the melody to forget about
the cruelty of reality.

Yeah, tomorrow was a new day.

 Scandinavian Clarity
Chapter Summary

In honour of Draco's birthday today I decided to treat you with an extra chapter this
week! Enjoy :)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Friday 15th of November 1996.

Sitting crossed-legs on his bed, his schoolbooks opened in front of him, a pile of parchments
on the right and a bottle of ink on the left, placed at the right distance as to leave enough
space to Draco to move and dip his quill in it without spilling ink all over his silky silver
sheets, he was working on his herbology essay since four in the morning.

Hidden behind his curtains though they were only half closed as to let the light in, Draco
couldn’t help but get distracted by his roommates as they were talking next to him while
getting dressed for the day. Saying León and Theo were talking would be more accurate
because Blaise was awfully quiet since they came back at school on Saturday.

It felt odd not to hear his voice as often as before. Blaise was extremely talkative and
sociable, he often took part in conversations even when no one asked for his opinion but he
had barely opened his mouth over the past week. Something was off with him and Draco was
getting worried.

“Can you believe it? She didn’t even talk, she just hexed the shit out of me. What have I done
to deserve that?” Theo complained for the sixth time within the hour, groaning in his hands as
he shoved them to his face.

From what Draco had gathered from his friend’s never-ending babbling, Theo had tried to ask
Granger on a date and she obviously didn’t take him seriously.

Draco didn’t understand why of all people Theo would want to date her but he supposed it
wasn’t his place to judge since he’d love to align Potter’s spine any other day – though it
remained a fantasy of his he cherished during the quietest moments of the night, when he was
all alone and no one could hear him.

Let’s simply omit to mention he scratched his skin like a mad-man in the shower after that,
feeling dirty and disgusted with himself now he knew where all the pleasure came from.

He hated it so much and yet he just couldn’t help it. Potter constantly made his way in his
head and the thought of him always gave him the best orgasms. He was conflicted but he had
no one to talk about this with so he tried to repress it, just like he always did when a foreign
feeling smothered him.

He could count himself lucky that León never came to his mind while wanking because
despite Draco’s obvious attraction for the other boy, it was a line he refused to cross. Potter
was his enemy, he didn’t have to face him all day, everyday. León was different in that matter
because they shared a dorm and were friends.

If he had to look at the face of his sin at all time, Draco wouldn’t probably be able to live
with himself. He’d end up doing more than just washing his skin roughly. He really detested
that part of himself.

Anyway, Granger didn’t seem like a wise choice for Theo, what with her lack of magical
heritage, especially because Theo was supposed to marry a girl when he’ll get out of school.
A pureblood girl. Draco supposed he was trying to fool around as much as possible before
the time he’d leave Hogwarts, a cruel deadline before he got chained to another human being
against his consent.

Draco was glad his parents were not forcing him into marriage, he would hate it.

“Why would you even want to date her?” Draco finally asked after he put the quill down. He
wasn’t going to finish his schoolwork with how loud Theo was whining anyway.

“She’s hot,” Theo shrugged.

“Are we talking about the same girl? Bushy hair, long teeth which won’t fit in her mouth–“
he listed doubtfully.

“She got them reduced after you cursed her,” Theo reminded him. Draco shrugged it off.

“–about this height and always cursing your name when you walk passed her?” he continued.

“That girl, yeah,” he nodded.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“She hates your guts”

“Why do you think I fancy her?” he grinned.

“I don’t think you do. You’re just trying to forget Pansy because you’re afraid she’ll never
want you,” he deadpanned.

Theo’s smile faltered immediately and he glared at Draco.

“Fuck you! No but really, fuck you,” he said as he stood up, his voice raising the second time
he repeated the words. It drew Blaise’s attention as he came out of his own head to look at
what was going on. “You’ve been avoiding every single one of us for months and the one
fucking time you open your goddamn mouth is to throw that kind of shit to my face?! Just
fuck you,” he spat before he grabbed his books and stormed out of the room, leaving his
robes on the floor.

Blaise gave Draco a stern look which he returned by arching an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked.

“You know what,” Blaise said. “That was a dick move”

“He’s just too sensitive. It’s not my fault he’s never been brave enough to ask her out,” he
shrugged before he returned to his schoolwork.

Blaise stared at him before he huffed and shook his head. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Sorry?” he asked, raising his head again.

“If you’d taken your head out of your arse five minutes last month you’d have noticed he did
ask her out and she said no. But you wouldn’t know since you’re too busy looking at your
own navel all day,” he snapped before he stood up as well. He picked up Theo’s robes and
exited the room, making Draco feel like an idiot.

Draco’s jaw clenched and his hand twisted the quill between his fingers as he looked at the
spot where Blaise was standing a minute ago. Admittedly, it was a dick move but it wasn’t
like Draco had known. It had been years Theo had been pining over her.

How could he know he had finally made a move if he didn’t even tell him?

Besides, sure it was not a very nice thing to say – or maybe was it just the way he said it that
wasn’t nice, he always spoke his mind harshly – but Blaise didn’t need to talk to him like
that. He didn’t understand why he had been so harsh. Any other day, he would have just told
him about the situation and incited him to apologise.

Not today, it seemed.

Draco shook his head and returned to his work, deciding he had better things to focus on than
his friends, especially when they were like this.

If he didn’t finish his essay before tonight, he wouldn’t be able to work on the vanishing
cabinet this weekend – which was a more pressing matter than Theo’s qualms. He was
already late on schedule according to the Dark Lord, he didn’t have one more minute to
waste.

Of course, he wouldn’t have been that late on schedule if only the Dark Lord had waited until
Christmas to hear from Draco like it was initially planned but it didn’t go as plan and now
Draco had the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. No matter what Dolohov had said,
Draco took that threat very seriously and also very personally.

He finished writing another sentence before he yawned, absolutely dead on his feet. His eyes
were back to what they were before, that is to say circled by two dark rings, heavy and ugly,
profaning his incommensurable beauty. That being the sole physical demonstration of the
exhaustion of his body.

He was literally killing himself as the time went by, he knew that, he was aware of it but he
couldn’t stop it. A part of him wondered if he didn’t find any excuses to dive in self-
destructive behaviour whereas another part of him was just trying hard to fill every single one
of his responsibilities.

It’s not that he didn’t care, Sirius had been abundantly clear the other day about what would
happen to him if he kept on going and yet Draco was still drinking invigorating draught
because he needed it – though now he had a phial twice a day instead of just once because he
was extremely exhausted and he didn’t have any time to waste to sleep if he didn’t want to
die.

Therefore, he resolved that killing himself as not to get killed was the best option. Ah, the
bitter irony of surviving.

We were two weeks into November already and Draco still had nothing new. He was stuck.
He had no answers about the runes, no beginning of a lead and yet he was certain they were
the first step to crack the code to make the vanishing cabinets work.

Therefore, he was growing frustrated and desperate and he spent every single one of his
nights in the room of requirement to work on the task – always after one in the morning –
reading and rereading the translations he already made until his eyes bled just to find a
possible translation to the other runes which made little to no sense to him, like a foreign
language.

“I’m going to join the others,” León said, startling Draco as he tried to hide another yawn. He
had completely forgotten León was there too, in first place. Draco’s eyes snapped to look at
him.

It was the first time since the beginning of the day that he laid eyes on him and what a sight
he was. His mouth almost fell agape as he stared at him. He was so close to drool that was
embarrassing.

His long white hair was tied in a plaited bun, two plaits were not kept within the bun and fell
down the small of his back. He was wearing sapphire long robes which highlighted the
magnificent of his blue eyes – one of them was already purple as he looked at Draco – and he
was about to take them off to put on his school uniform before going downstairs for
breakfast.

The intensity of León’s eyes took his breath away as he looked right through him. He looked
so gorgeous it physically hurt to hold his gaze. His jaw was so sharp and the way he wore his
hair only underlined it which made him look even hotter, in his earnest opinion, and the way
his lips looked so soft and plumpy today made Draco’s knees go so weak he was glad he was
sitting.

He felt his cock stirring with interest when his thoughts went to the most lustful places of his
mind before he could even stop them and he grabbed his book to place it on his laps to hide
it.

That would be embarrassing if León noticed.

“You should stop drinking that,” León said as he nodded towards his trunk, effectively
snapping him out of his thoughts.

“How do you know?” he asked confused.

“You may think no one sees you, that you’re kind of invisible but you’re not to me. I see
you,” León gave him a tight, sad smile before he left the dorm to leave him alone, completely
unaware of the effect those words had on Draco as his heart fluttered strangely.

Draco swallowed and let the words replaying in his head like a mantra. ‘I see you’, he’d said.

What did he see, exactly? And why did he seem to care so much?

Draco loved and hated the enigma that was León Delacour. He wanted to know what he
meant when he talked and he wanted to see through the double-meaning sentences that drove
him utterly mad.

He remained on his bed, thinking about all the possibilities implied in those three little words
before he remembered he had an essay to finish and he went back to work. His focus was
deeply wounded by León’s intervention though and he couldn’t stop thinking about the other
Slytherin the whole time.

He finished just on time for lunch and he folded the parchment and sealed it to hand it to
Sprout later. He put it in his trunk and, before he slammed it shut, his eyes lingered on the
phials hidden inside. He gulped audibly but, after a moment of hesitation, he took one out,
uncapped it and downed it.

He wouldn’t have the time to have a nap in the fathomable future.

He was finally walking in the corridor in direction of the Great Hall when he saw two Aurors
walking towards him. Draco bowed his head but didn’t stop looking at them, his heart
hammering in his chest. He hadn’t done anything wrong – yet – but he was feeling guilty
whenever his path met with the Aurors’.

He didn’t even relax after they walked passed him.

When he entered in the Great Hall, every students were already gathered around their table
for lunch. Draco sat the further away from his friends and took his Arithmancy book out as
well as the parchment on which he had written a few runes.

Anyone who studied Arithmancy knew the runes were associated with numbers more often
than not and since studying them hadn’t got him nowhere so far, it was the second surest
option when it came to translate unknown runes.

Draco was reading the book, his eyebrows furrowed and his fork frozen mid-way to his
mouth when he heard somebody straddling the bench and sitting in front of him. Draco
looked up, ready to tell whoever came to piss off when he noticed it was just León .

“What are you doing?” Draco asked before he noticed he hadn’t put the fork in his mouth yet.
He shoved it in and swallowed the food, hardly taking the time to chew on it.

“You’re sitting alone,” León said easily with a half-shrug. “I thought you’d like the
company,” he added before he picked Draco’s apple and bit hard in it.

Draco watched as his jaw worked while he chewed and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up
and down when he swallowed. He had to force himself to look away after he noticed he was
staring again. León noticed too and he smirked at Draco.

“Haven’t you thought that perhaps I was sitting alone because I wanted to be alone?” he
asked as his eyes skimmed through the book again. He tried to look unbothered but it was
quite hard to be.

“Ouch,” León grinned. “To think that I thought of myself being the most charming company
one could have for lunch,” he replied playfully.

Draco eyed him but didn’t answer. He returned to his work instead, while León continued to
eat his apple.

“I was going to eat that,” he said without looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed as he
scratched something on his parchment.

“Green suits me so well though, don’t you think?” He grinned as he took another bite in the
apple.

“Are you doing your thing again?” he blurted out eventually, too bothered to pretend not to
be anymore.

“What thing?” León asked.

Draco heard him smile despite he wasn’t even looking and he couldn’t help but imagine the
way his dimples carved his cheeks. His stomach did a weird backflip as heat pooled in his
stomach. He shifted on the bench as he tried to repress his thoughts again.

Merlin, why was he so horny? He hadn’t pulled in a while but that was not a reason to react
like a thirteen years old teen!

“You know what thing,” he said lowly.

“Oh that thing,” he said innocently. “I told you I wouldn’t. It’s only me that makes you all hot
and bothered,” he cocked his head smugly and Draco glared at him. León only winked
flirtatiously.

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

“Right,” he snorted but he changed the subject because they both knew Draco wasn’t ready
for that conversation. “What are you working on?” he asked as he gestured to the book he
was reading.

“Schoolwork,” he lied easily.

“No you’re not,” he dismissed immediately with a huff.

“Yes,” he said as he looked up to meet his eye, challenging him to deny it again.

“You’re not,” he insisted, completely unimpressed.

“Oh really? And what proof do you have?” he asked, his arms crossed on his chest.

León smirked again, all too smug. Draco knew he was fucked.

“Those are Scandinavian runes,” he said as he nodded to Draco’s parchment. “We don’t study
them this year”

“What?” he said as he looked down his parchment again with a frown. “No, you’re wrong.
This is clearly an Anglo-Saxon rune,” he said as he pointed one with his finger. León shook
his head and tutted.

“Uh uh,” he denied. “Those runes you’ve got here are a mixture of both. Where did you even
find them?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped harshly before his face relaxed and he looked at
León in the eyes again. “Hold on, how do you know it’s Scandinavian?” he asked, confused.

“It’s none of your business either,” León shrugged. Draco shot him a glare. “What? I thought
we were well-passed that passive-aggressive behaviour of yours? Talk to me like shit and
don’t expect me to help you,” he replied. “It’s as simple as that”

Draco sighed. “Right. I’m sorry. Now can you please answer me?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said.

Draco shot him another look but León didn’t say anything else.

“How so?” he asked eventually.

“Are you sure you’re the best student in that class?” he teased.

“León,” he groaned. “Answer me or shut up! I’m trying to focus”

“Don’t they teach you that at Hogwarts like… At all? I’ve learned that in third year in Beaux-
batons,” he teased again. “Who knew French were superior?” he paused. “Oh right.
Absolutely everyone,” he smirked.

“León for fuck’s sake it’s important!” he said as he lost patience.

“Fine. You’re no fun today. Let me show you”

He stood up and walked around the table to come and sit next to him. Draco made some
room for him and he handed him the parchment to let him see.

“See this rune? It’s softer around the edges. It’s because Scandinavian runes are more often
than not using circular shapes contrary to the Anglo-Saxon runes which are sharper around
the edges. They look… Stiff, almost,” he said as an explanation. Draco gaped at him.

“How do you know all that?” he asked startled.

“I told you, I was taught both in third year,” he smiled.

“Can you translate them?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m not sure. I mean, as I mentioned those runes are a mix of both. It’s pretty unusual,” he
frowned.

Draco rubbed his face tiredly and sighed. “Alright, thanks,” he said before he took the
parchment and folded it.

There was nothing he could do without a book about Scandinavian runes anyway. He’d have
to purchase one when he’d go to Hogsmeade in a week or two. He was about to pick up his
fork when he froze again and his eyes widened. He rushed to unfold the parchment and he
looked through it.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“It means none of my translations are fucking correct. I have to start from the beginning!” he
said as his nose wrinkled aggressively. He was about to tear the sheet in two when León put
his hand on his forearm to stop him.

“Don’t. I’m going to help you,” he said. “Let me see what you’ve got”

“Not here,” he said, his jaw clenched as he struggled to calm down, obviously upset with
himself for being so slow to understand why it seemed so off.

“Where then?”

“Remember that room you told me about?” León nodded. “Join me on the seventh floor after
one tonight,” he said.

“Isn’t it a bit risky, with all the aurors patrolling?” he asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of them”

“One of them attacked me and called me a rapist,” he retorted coldly.

“Right,” he pursed his lips together. “I suggest you don’t get caught then”
His sentence was barely over that a thousand owls flew in and shadowed the fake sky of the
Great Hall with their wings. An owl Draco didn’t recognise stopped in front of him and
dropped a letter on his lap. It stole a bit of his food before it flew away.

What was one more sponger, what with León’s habit to pick food from Draco’s plate every
time they sat together for lunch?

Draco pushed that thought away to focus on the mail he received. He frowned as he looked at
the envelop. He didn’t recognise the handwriting.

He glanced at León who was opening his own envelop, everything written in French and a
soft smile on his lips. He looked absolutely beautiful today, just like any other day really, but
today… Today it made it hard to focus.

A strand of hair that he let falling on his forehead was hiding his eye from Draco’s
perspective and he wanted nothing more but to push the strand away and tuck it behind his
ear. He didn’t. Instead he refocused on his own letter and he opened it after he made sure no
one would read above his shoulder, despite he had done the very same thing to León earlier.

“ 171196 0500.

Forbidden Forest behind the pixies lake.

Don’t be late.

F. F. G. ”

Draco frowned as he reread it while León was still busy. Since there was a place written on it,
Draco supposed it meant the numbers were probably a date and a hour. The seventeenth of
November was on Sunday and if he read that correctly, it meant he’d have to be in the
forbidden forest at five in the morning.

However, his mind couldn’t come up with anyone’s face to match those initials at the end of
the letter. Despite the author of the letter remained unknown, he knew he wouldn’t be
allowed to miss that meeting. He folded the paper and he shoved it in his pocket.

The afternoon passed rather quickly after that. Classes went okay though Draco struggled not
to fall asleep during Binns’ class. However, the three hours he spent brewing potions with
Regulus woke him up a bit. Mainly because of the ‘Blaise incident’, as he called it.

Blaise was struggling quite a lot in class today. He always did but never to this extent. He
looked really agitated and fidgety during the two hours he spent behind his cauldron,
desperately trying to brew a simple antidote against venomous poison. Eventually, he was so
distracted he caused his cauldron to blow up.

When Draco turned around, his eyes wide and shocked. Blaise was covered in a slimy
substance and looked like he was about to burst into tears. Draco recovered quickly and
handed him something to dry himself. Blaise didn’t take it. Draco was about to say something
to comfort him when Blaise groaned and threw his schoolbook on the table before he stormed
out of the classroom under everyone’s eyes.

Draco was really worried and he completely forgot about exhaustion after that.

The last hour he spent in the classroom, Draco tried to find a logical explanation about
Blaise’s sudden change of demeanour. He knew him well enough to know something was
wrong but to this day, Draco still didn’t find a way to talk to him, alone.

There was never a quiet time nor did they ever spend time alone anymore. It was like Blaise
was avoiding him, which absurd because why would he avoid him, really? But then, Draco
was suddenly hit with the realisation that Blaise had not even written one letter to him during
the holidays and a knot formed in his stomach.

What if Blaise was done with his shit? What if he had been too much of a burden for his own
best friend? Panic began to rise in his chest and his body suddenly felt too tight. He needed to
talk to him as soon as possible to sort things out.

When Regulus dismissed everyone for the day after the end of the class, Draco decided it was
his cue to find a moment alone with Blaise and talk to him before he went completely crazy
except Regulus thought otherwise as he asked him to stay after class. Draco almost groaned
but he obeyed.

As long as Snape didn’t join them, he didn’t mind spending time with Regulus. It was a good
occasion to get to know him better and perhaps even recover a few memories. If not, it was
the occasion to make new ones.

“You look tired,” Regulus said once they were alone.

“You would be too if you couldn’t sleep at night,” he said with a half-shrug.

“What keeps you up?”

“You know… Usual stuff,” he replied vaguely.

Regulus narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, though he had that look on his face as
though he could see right through him. Merlin, Draco hated when he looked at him like that.

“I apologise for not giving you a warning before asking you to stay after class. I thought it
would be a great opportunity to begin to work on your occlumency skills,” he explained.

“What? Right now?”

“Yes. Is it a problem to you?” he asked, giving him an out just in case of.

“No. Not at all. Okay, let’s do this,” he said. “How do we proceed?” he asked awkwardly.
Regulus smirked.

“Nothing difficult, I promise. First, I’m going to cast the spell and see how much you can
resist. I promise I won’t intrude. As soon as your defences break, I’ll step out”
Draco swallowed but he nodded. He didn’t have much choice but to trust him and trust was
probably the most important factor while learning such discipline with somebody else. But
Regulus had been nothing but helpful and caring since they met ansd Draco didn’t want to
mistrust him. Besides, he was Sirius’ brother and James’ boyfriend. It probably meant he was
trustworthy.

“Okay,” he consented.

“Then, after I gauged how long you can take it before breaking down, we’ll adjust. You’ll
meditate and calm your mind as much as possible until you compartmentalised every
thoughts. Severus told me you learned to do that at a young age. It shouldn’t be too hard for
you. The main goal of our sessions here is to see whether it is an issue with focusing or if it’s
entirely something else that’s interfering with your occlumency skills,” he explained. “Then,
we’ll find a way to keep your defences up at all times”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Should we sit?”

“Sure. Take a chair,” he smiled as he gestured to the chairs with his hand.

Draco grabbed a chair and put it in the middle of the room, in front of Regulus’ desk where
he was sitting and rocking his legs. Regulus wasn’t even that small – he was even pretty tall
though still shorter than Draco – but his desk was large and he always sat in a way that
ensured he would not touch the floor so that he could rock his legs.

Draco wondered if it was a nervous tic or something. He quickly forgot about it when he
looked at him, waiting for the moment he’d cast the spell.

“Are you ready?” Regulus checked.

“Oh, you’re warning me?” he asked, surprised.

“Of course. You can change your mind any moment. I know how intrusive and scary that
spell is,” he said, his eyes dull but his face blank.

Draco saw with precision the moment Regulus put up his own defences. He looked so hard
and rough when his features turned cold. It was a sight Draco didn’t like but understood so
well. Taking a deep breath, Draco braced himself for the intrusion he was soon going to face
and he nodded.

“I’m ready,” he said.

He wasn’t sure what kind of results he could get considering the mental state he was in but he
hoped he would be able to push him away long enough to be acceptable as not to completely
humiliate himself.

His emotions were on a rollercoaster, barely ten days before the next full moon, and he had
so much on his mind. In addition, exhaustion wasn’t helping at all to keep everything under
control so he really doubted he could be impressive today.

He just hoped Regulus wouldn’t make fun of him for failing.

Regulus raised his wand – which now Draco had nothing else to look at, he noticed it was a
very elegant wand. It must have been twenty-two or twenty-three centimetres and it had been
crafted in a very dark wood, dark as ink. Ebony , he recognised. The wand was thin with no
details engraved and it also looked light compared to his own. It was smooth and straight,
with no lumps or shape. The handle was hidden by Regulus’ hand but Draco wanted to see
what it looked like.

“Legilimens,” Regulus cast.

Draco immediately gasped at the intrusion, which felt nothing like Snape’s. He shut his eyes
as he tried to focus on the barriers in his mind but his emotions went wild as his body
recognised Regulus’ magical signature despite he was convinced he never felt it before.

As Regulus pushed further in his head to catch a glimpse of his thoughts and memories,
Draco gritted his teeth. It felt like mercury sank into his veins as his blood ran cold. Despite
the coldness infiltrating itself in his bones, Draco also felt warmth and it was extremely
confusing.

After a few seconds, he saw the first memories Regulus unburied by his presence flashing in
his head at full speed and he struggled to raise the first shield before Regulus caught a
glimpse of anything.

When he mustered all his strength to protect his mind and erected the first barrier, Regulus
effortlessly broke it down and he had to start again. His hands closed firmly around the
armrests of the chair he was sitting on and Draco’s muscles clenched hard as he tried to push
him away.

Despite his best efforts, he didn’t succeed and what used to be a blurred panel of memories
flashing in his head become more and more precise as Regulus imposed himself more firmly.
As soon as the first memory became clear enough to relive it, Regulus immediately pulled
away, leaving Draco panting and stiff on his chair when his eyes snapped open.

Regulus looked completely unbothered, his legs still rocking as his face showed no trace of
effort. It felt a bit insulting, truth be told.

“What happened? Were you not focused enough?” Regulus asked confused. “It took me less
than a minute and you barely raised any shield”

Draco kept panting when he looked at him, his hand loosely placed on his stomach to catch
his breath.

“I don’t know!” he replied as he jumped on his feet, upset. “I could do it with Bellatrix! I
never had any issues, not really!” he exclaimed, frustrated with himself before he put his head
in his hands and sighed. “It’s so much worse than with Snape because at least I could push
him away and resist him. You literally humiliated me,” he said, defeated.

“I did no such thing,” Regulus denied. “It is not humiliating to struggle with occlumency, far
from that. Older wizards could never compete with my skills, I’ve seen it first-hand through
the years. You still managed to raise a shield, no matter how weak it was. You kept me at bay
for a minute! That’s impressive considering how young you are,” he said a he put a hand on
his shoulder to comfort him.

Draco swallowed and met his eyes. “But I used to succeed. I used to keep everyone out
easily. Bellatrix taught me but before concluding the lesson was completed, she asked other
people to try and they never passed the first barrier,” he exclaimed before he stood up on an
impulse. “Why do I suck all of a sudden?” he groaned.

Regulus took a moment to thin before he answered. “Do you mind we try my method? Let’s
meditate for a bit, yeah?” he offered.

Draco nodded but he didn’t think it would solve his problem to meditate. Still, he sat down
on the chair again and Regulus hopped off his desk to sit crossed-legs on the floor. He gave a
look to Draco which he interpreted as ‘ get your arse on the floor ’ and he obliged after he
tidied the chair away.

Being in this position reminded him of those exercises he did with Remus to stimulate his
powers and be in harmony with the wolf. He didn’t say it though and he waited for Regulus’
instructions as he mirrored his position.

“Close your eyes,” Regulus began.

Draco did as he was told.

“We’re going to breathe to begin, is that okay?” he asked.

Draco nodded.

“Alright. Five in, five out,” he indicated before they began to breathe together.

They took ten minutes to fully relax and then Regulus continued.

“Now, imagine a peaceful place. Somewhere you could run to if you wanted to hide in your
head. Something that reminds you of sweet memories and makes you feel safe,” he
suggested.

Draco’s first thought was the lavender field with the river running nearby he used to often go
to with his mother when he was younger. It used to be his favourite place and he thought
perhaps if he focused hard enough he could even smell the scent of lavender.

However, the serenity and the sense of security evaporated abruptly when he remembered the
scent as it was exactly the same as the manor. Anxiety crept in and he had to take deep breath
to calm down before he got overwhelmed with the screams bouncing off the walls while
death eaters tortured people under his roof.

So, that was a fail.

He refused to dwell on it and as soon as the thought disappeared and his breathing slowed
down again, he tried to think of something else. No one expected he’d manage on the first
time.
The sea appeared first in his head, quickly followed by the cliffs where he used to have a
picnic with his parents back in France. The sound of the sea rocking their meal as the cicadas
sang in the long grass made him feel like a kid again. It was so comforting.

Once again, the dreamy picture he painted for himself crashed and burned as he remembered
all the times his parents fought together during those holidays and then he remembered that
one time he witnessed Lucius hitting Narcissa. It made him angry and anxious again and he
had to redo the breathing exercises to calm down once more.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry, take your time,” Regulus answered.

He was really grateful that Regulus was patient. Anyone else would have been pissed by now.

When he was back in the right mindset, Draco stopped thinking too hard and approached the
exercise otherwise. Indeed, until now he thought about memories he loved and he tried to
find comfort in them but it never worked out for him and so this time he tried to think about a
feeling and see what could come out of it, instead.

Perhaps doing it the other way round would work better.

As he focused on what those feelings inspired him, a new picture began to paint itself behind
his eyelids and, unconsciously, a small smile bloomed on his lips.

His thoughts went to a forest. At first, it could have been any forest but then he began to
imagine himself sitting on the stairs under the porch, the same one back in the shack as the
stars sparkled lazily above his head and the smell of Remus’ cigarettes became pleasantly
overwhelming, as though he was smoking next to him.

As he emerged himself into that landscape, he began to hear the rustling leaves as the wind
rushed in, the smell of grass after a rainy day and the smell of mud in the air as his feet left a
mark on the wet mud. He heard the sound of the birds and the squirrels and it made him
weirdly happy. He knew that sound was not from the forest, at least from none of the
memories he had with Sirius and Remus but it still made him feel better.

He immersed himself in it until he was fully calm and, one by one, he raised his shields as he
protected his mind. He locked the most precious memories away, the very same way he did
with Bellatrix and he kept focusing on his breathing as not to ruin all his efforts. When he
opened his eyes again, Regulus was staring at him. Draco nodded.

“Are you ready?” Regulus checked.

“More than,” he replied, his lips twitched and Regulus smirked.

“Good. Let’s see that”

Draco schooled his face and refocused on his breathing. In his head, he kept visualising the
barriers he raised and he didn’t flinch when Regulus cast the spell.
 He was ready this time.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter's coming on Friday rather than Thursday because I'm like extremely busy
this week (hence why I'm posting so early btw)!

See you all on Friday! :)

You can find me on tumblr: LunardeAO3

Take care of yourself

 Crossroads
Chapter Notes

TW Suicidal Thoughts
Mention of blood

Sunday 17th of November 1996.

Every day looked the same or almost the same and it was awfully depressing.

Draco was getting severely tired of it. He wanted to feel in charge of his life like he used to
before, even when he was just following his father’s orders just to please him. It felt easier
but not better though. However, it felt like at least it was still his life to live.

Nowadays, he didn’t have that chance anymore. He wanted to induce change and be his own
person, a very dangerous thought to have if anyone could hear it.

Maybe he should go to sleep. Maybe he should stop coming to the Astronomy Tower, waiting
for Potter to join him every night while he pretended to hate it meanwhile he was the one
seeking for him in the Great Hall during meals and in classes when they shared them. It was
not that he liked him better than he used to, it’s just that something about Potter made his
days better – the days they were fighting almost always included.

Tonight, he waited for him again. Not because he wanted another fight to break out but
because something about Potter was reassuring. Whenever he looked at him and could see
past the arousal and the hatred long enough to perceive a few glimpse of the moments they
shared at Sirius’ and thinking of Remus and Sirius almost always made him feel better.

His arms were crossed as he leaned on the balcony, high up in the tower, his back turned on
the door. His eyes were scanning the autumnal sky, seeking for familiar stars. There was none
in sight tonight since it was cloudy but he still tried. Not a single one of them sparkled above
his head. Draco wished things were not always going to shit for him. He just wanted to
observe the starry night, for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t he have one nice thing?

Henceforth why he waited for Potter.

His stomach was tight as though a knot had been formed within, using his intestines as a
scarf. He was only five hours away from the meeting he’d been asked to join with a stranger
and he had no idea what he should expect. It scared him and caused a whole lot of anxiety
which he definitely didn’t need these days.

Therefore he couldn’t sleep.

To be clear, he refused to close his eyes even just for a few minutes because he was scared of
waking up. It terrified him. He didn’t want to go to the meeting, he dreaded the moment he’d
have to. Today, he took three phials rather than two just to ensure he wouldn’t fall asleep at
all. He had bad nightmares when he slept anyway, always picturing his mother dying under
Nagini’s fangs or he had flashbacks of the day he’d been bitten.

He couldn’t think of anything else after realising something was odd about the way it all
happened. He wished he could ask questions but who could he ask to? Who would know the
answers? So he kept that in the back of his mind despite he couldn’t mute it, too noisy like a
white noise and he tried to focus on what was currently going on for him.

Each time he did, his mind immediately went back to the meeting. The scariest thing
probably was that his instinct told him nothing.

He felt agitated, irritated, upset and scared. Alas, things were not going to get better any time
soon because the full moon was next week and it only got on his nerves even more. With that
event being so close, Draco couldn’t help but replay the conversation he had had with Remus
and Sirius about the task and he felt utterly mortified.

He wished he had shut his big mouth.

Seeking for help didn’t change anything, anyway. He was still stuck at the manor, forced to
return to a house which didn’t feel like home anymore and he still had to host death eaters
and their master under his roof as though it was perfectly fine – but it wasn’t. He shared
meals with those people and each time he saw them eating something, he couldn’t help but
wish they’d choke and die.

If only he could rely on his mother, things would probably be easier to handle except they
still hadn’t found a moment to talk and so he still felt lonely and abandoned.

That was dreadful.

His daily life was dreadful and yet Sirius and Remus couldn’t do anything to make it better
no matter how honourable their intentions were.

At this point, he wasn’t sure anyone could help him. That was true, wasn’t it? He had been
destined to a life that he didn’t choose, a life of misery and loneliness because all that could
fully exist within the extent of his heart should ever be hatred and that was just not the person
he was.

Yet, he was scared he could become someone like that. They were turning him into someone
he was not and he wasn’t sure where the line was anymore between the persona and who he
truly was after spending so much time lying to everyone’s face. He hated himself, he was so
disgusted with himself to the point he could hardly meet his eyes in the mirror anymore.

Who was he really?

A people pleaser.
It was sad but true: a few months back he couldn’t cast an unforgivable and he’d made a
promise to himself he hadn’t been able to keep. Now, he’d cast two of them already and he
mastered the imperius curse so easily that they pushed him further just to see how great he
could do. Except Draco didn’t think it was great. If anything, he thought the very opposite.

Two personalities, a thousand different masks and yet only one of them was real among all
that mess he had to make up. Except Draco himself wasn’t sure which one it was, anymore.
Indeed, no matter how much he hated it, it was his hand that cast those spells, his mouth that
spoke those words and his eyes that saw all these horrors. A small percent of all of this at
least had to be the real him, too.

He rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes teary and glassy with exhaustion. He just wanted it all to
end. His gaze went from the sky to the ground and something within snapped.

It was so high.

How would it feel to fall from here? Would he look like a falling angel, disgraced and bruised
while jumping for the last time? Would his wounded soul finally heal as he’d find freedom in
the embrace of the wind?

He gulped as he tightened his hand around the iron of the balcony, his knuckles turned white
and he gave a small impulse, thrusting his body forward just to feel adrenaline rushing
through his veins as the upper part of his body passed on the other side of the balcony and
hovered over the void. He could already picture himself jumping above.

It was really tempting.

“Malfoy?” he heard a small voice breathing behind him. The tone was gentle but concerned.
“What are you doing?”

Draco let go and took a long step back before he smoothed his robes and searched for Potter.
He could see him tonight. Potter had taken his head out from under the cloak. Draco instantly
regretted seeing him as he met his eyes for the first time. He looked so sad and worried.

Had Draco’s intentions been so clear, even from the outside?

“Potter,” he said, his voice tight.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he took a step forward, genuinely concerned as he left the cloak
on the ground and raised his hand as though he wanted to reach out before he stopped in his
tracks when Draco took a step back.

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

“What were you doing then?” he asked, his voice raising slightly as he suddenly looked
angry.

Draco wondered what it was about.

“Nothing,” he mumbled before he went back to the balcony to look at the stars, or the lack of
thereof.

“It didn’t look like nothing to me,” he insisted harshly as he joined him.

“Leave it!” he snapped.

“Not if you were doing what I think you were doing!”

“And what is that exactly? Please, enlighten me. You’re the Golden boy after all, you always
have all the answers,” he hissed.

Oh so tonight there would be another fight? That wasn’t what Draco needed but so be it. He
wouldn’t shut it in front of Potter and have him winning their argument. That'd be
humiliating.

“You know as well as I do what it was you were doing and don’t you dare pulling that card
on me”

“Which card?”

“The Golden boy thing. Fuck you for that!” he said angrily.

It was so easy to rile him up and Draco usually took great pleasure while doing so but tonight
he was not in the mood and he didn’t need Potter to lecture him nor did he need his expertise
and advices on a matter he couldn’t even grasp. Draco’s mind was doing this enough as it
was, he didn’t need his intervention on top of everything else.

“No fuck you Potter. I don’t even know why you pretend to care all of a sudden. If you think
we’re friends now just because I helped you sort things out after Sirius’ birthday, you
couldn’t be further from the truth. I am not your friend and I’ll never be so stop acting like
you care now!”

“All of a–“ he huffed. “If you think it’s sudden it’s because you haven’t been paying
attention!”

Draco glared at him before he looked at the stars again.

“Sure. You know what? I think I really have a preference for when you put on the cloak,” he
said through gritted teeth, he was already seething.

“Yeah, you’ve said so already,” Potter rolled his eyes. “I don’t plan on putting it on any time
soon though”

“Oh that’s a shame because it would be so much better on you rather than on the floor”

“Why? You’re too tempted to steal it again?” he shot back.

“Just so you could trick me into giving it back to you? No, thanks,” he snapped.
“You’re still mad about that?” he asked in disbelief.

“That was disloyal!” he hissed.

“A Slytherin complaining about disloyalty is like a Ravenclaw complaining about art or

schoolwork. It makes absolutely no sense,” Potter snorted.

“You know what makes no sense? A fucking Gryffindor acting like a Slytherin!” he snapped
as he looked at him dead in the eye.

“You gave me no choice, you took my cloak!” Potter spat to his face as he took a step
forward.

“I wouldn’t have to if you stopped being so fucking obsessed with me!” he raised his voice.

“And I wouldn’t be obsessed if you stopped acting like you had something to hide!”

“I have nothing to hide!”

“Says the guy who lives with Voldemort himself!” Potter shouted.

Draco froze at that. His lips parted in shock as he looked at Potter as though he had grown a
second head. He closed his mouth and then he opened it again as he tried so hard to recover
from the blow he received.

“That’s not what I meant,” Potter shook his head.

“Yet it seems abundantly clear to me that it is,” he deadpanned.

“No, no, no,” Potter shook his head. “It’s not–“

“How did you– how do you know?” he asked, partially stunned.

Potter pursed his lips together.

“I know, that’s all you need to know”

“You expect me to believe that crap?! Tell me how!” he demanded angrily.

“Malfoy–“

“Sirius talked to you didn’t he?!” he hissed before he took a step back and began to pace.

“Sirius didn’t tell me anything,” he replied confused. “What is this about?”

“Oh no, Potter,” he said as he laughed humourlessly. “Don’t expect me to believe that
rubbish! You’re his godson! Of course he talked to you!” he seethed before he pulled on his
hair and continued to pace, though a bit faster than earlier.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about I–“

“Stop!” he shouted again. “Don’t you dare! Don’t lie to me!”

“I don’t even know what you’re accusing me of lying about!”

“I should have known! I should have expected Sirius to talk to you! Why would he keep it for
himself when he could tell the golden boy about my miserable fucking life. I don’t even
know why I trusted him! Of course he’d fucking choose you over me!” he said, his eyes
filling with tears again as he kept rambling. “I would choose you over myself too because
I’m just a pathetic death eater’s scum and everyone knows that which ultimately means that I
am not a good person! I fucking hate–“

“Malfoy,” Potter snapped harshly enough to effectively stop him from rambling. Draco’s
chest heaved as he looked hurt and sad and angry when he looked at Potter. Fortunately,
Potter pitied him a bit and didn’t let the suspense drag for too long as he revealed him the
truth. “I saw it first-hand,” he finally said more quietly.

“What?” Draco asked blankly as he stopped pacing, his hands falling to his sides again.
“What are you talking about?”

“Voldemort and I we…” he sighed. “We kind of share a bond. A connexion, if you will. No
one knows why or how it works exactly but sometimes when he gets too… intense, I catch a
glimpse of what’s in his head,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. Draco looked at
him dumbfounded, his eyebrows knitted together.

“No,” he denied with a shake of the head. “You’re lying. You’re fucking with me! Stop it,” he
said, his voice thick again as he grasped what Potter was trying to admit.

He’d seen Draco at his weakest. He had seen Voldemort threatening him. Oh, he probably
enjoyed every seconds of it. That fucker!

“I’m not,” he promised as he took another step forward. Once again, Draco took a step back.

“Don’t! Don’t even fucking dare!” he snarled. “Why are you telling me this? You wanted to
brag about how much fun it was to look at him humiliating me?” he seethed.

“Malfoy. I don’t know why you’d think that but–” he said, his voice pleading as he tried to
reason with him.

“Well I have some news for you Potter,” he interjected in a growl. “You were fucking wrong.
He doesn’t live in my house, he simply comes from time to time so perhaps check your
source before throwing something like that to my face next time!”

“Stop, that’s not what I was trying to say, please listen–“

“No, you listen, Scarhead!” He snapped, using the awful nickname he only ever used when
he was beyond mad at him.

He grabbed the cloak from the floor and threw it to him. Potter almost let it drop on the floor
but he managed to catch it awkwardly.
“Get away from here, leave me alone! From this day on, you don’t know me, you don’t see
me and you don’t even look at me! Oh and, of course, you stop fucking following me around,
you psycho! Don’t come to the astronomy tower when I’m there either, I don’t know how but
you always seem to know where I am! I swear next time I smell your prickly presence too
close from me I’m breaking your fucking nose to teach you what personal space fucking
means!” Draco lashed out, his face red with anger.

“Malfoy stop, listen–“ he tried again.

“I bet you laughed. I bet you fucking laughed, didn’t you?!”

“No! I didn’t! There was nothing funny about that, okay?!”

“As if I’d believe you!” he spat, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Then that’s a ‘you’ problem!” he snapped. “You’re projecting your own mediocrity onto me
because you know that’s something you would have enjoyed, had the role been reversed!”

“What did you say?” he asked, his wand flying to the palm of his hand as he raised it without
a second thought. “Are you being fucking serious right now?!”

Potter didn’t look impressed one bit as he took a few steps forward, coming closer until they
were chest to chest as he let the tip of Draco’s wand pressing against his skin.

A threat.

Potter was smaller than him, Draco always knew that, and yet right now he looked twice as
big despite he barely reached Draco’s chin. His gaze was so intense and wild and his body
emanated defiance and confidence, a familiar mixture when we knew Potter as well as Draco
did. None of them backed down as they stared into each other’s burning gaze.

“Do you really want to fight? Is that it? Perhaps I should take my wand out too, then,” Potter
challenged.

“I asked you to repeat!” he growled, pressing his wand further into his skin. He was itching
to hex him.

“Fine, I’m going to repeat you fuckwit!” Potter spat. “Better, I’m going to explain what I
mean because you so desperately need translation what with your brain being the size of a
fucking pea!”

“Potter–“ he growled.

“Shut up it’s my turn to speak!” he snapped. “I’ve been trying so hard ever since September
to make you see the truth but you’re so blind and dedicated when it comes to hate me that
you decided I’d be the enemy just because you’re still stuck in that childish mentality of
yours and your stupid rivalry!” he spat. Draco’s eyes went wide as his features hardened
some more.

“What are you even talking about?!”

“What do you think I’m talking about?! I’m talking about all the efforts I made to get closer
to you and that meant absolutely shit to you just because you can’t see past your own nose!”

“I–“

“I’m not done!” he interjected, jerking his chin in defiance. “Why do you think I’ve been
spending all my evenings with you at the top of that stupid tower instead of sleeping?! And
why do you think I’ve been trying to be less hostile to you despite you always treated me like
shit?!”

“I was treating you like shit?! I don’t know if you’re aware but you’re the one who triggered
such reactions out of me!”

“Is that so? Because as far as I remember, every time I tried to have a decent conversation
with you, you pushed me away or you immediately jumped at my throat even when I tried to
ignore that shitty attitude you had towards me!”

Draco paused to think about it and he blinked quickly as their conversations flashed in his
head. Potter was right, unfortunately. He had more often than not began their fights. He didn’t
know what to think of it.

“Tell me Potter, did it not cross your mind that perhaps it was too late to play it nice?!”

“It’s never too late!”

“It’s too late for me!” he shouted before he paused to breathe. He pinched the bridge of his
nose and exhaled slowly to calm down a bit before he continued. Potter was looking at him
with wide eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove but your attitude has been
nothing but provocative ever since we came back. You’re the one who talked to Regulus
about what I was doing and you’re the one who follows me like a creeper and refuse to leave
me alone!” he listed.

“Only because I’m fucking worried about you!” he replied hastily. “Don’t you think I noticed
you were not having meals for a few days sometimes? Or the way you lost weight and paled
considerably since the beginning of the school year? And let’s not even talk about the bags
under your eyes! I know you don’t go back to your dorm after I leave you here at night!”

“What even is your point?!”

“My point is: people cares about you, much more than you can think. I admit at first I was
only trying to make sure you were not going to cause anyone any harm but then I talked to
Sirius – yes I did! – and I’ve seen the way he cares about you. He wouldn’t if you were such
a piece of shit, so I began to wonder what it was he saw in you that I didn’t. That’s when I
noticed. Since then, I’ve been trying to give you a hand because you obviously need it!”

“No I don’t! I don’t need your help Potter, I don’t need anyone’s!”

“Everyone needs help sometimes!”

“I don’t! Besides, from what I gathered, you’ve only been trying to manipulate me ever since
we came back at Hogwarts!”

“Are you completely stupid or something?” he shouted. “I was trying to be your friend!”

“My friend?!”

“Yes!” He said, his eyes wide. “I’m not surprised you don’t know what that is, can’t say you
have much friends left these days but you need one! You fucking need one, Malfoy, admit it!”

“I… Stop that doesn’t… Shut up,” he said, his cheeks flushing heavily as he felt
embarrassed.

But Potter didn’t.

“Oh and just to make sure you understand this time, let me get this very clear. No double-
meaning, no way to misunderstand: this is me offering my help,” he said as he gestured
between the two of them. “Do whatever you want with that but I suggest you stop pushing
everyone away or you’ll end up all alone and you’ll be the only one to blame for your own
misery! The ball’s in your court so I suggest you actually take time to consider my offer,”
Potter spat hotly before he wrapped himself in his cloak and left the tower in long strides.

Draco gaped at him until he disappeared in the corridor. No matter how he expected that
conversation to go, that was definitely not that way.

He remained frozen on spot for a few minutes longer after that as he tried to understand what
Potter’s words really implied. ‘I’m trying to be your friend’, he had said. ‘This is me offering
my help’. Draco gulped audibly before he sat down on the floor, his back resting against the
balcony and he threw back his head and he looked at the ceiling.

What was he supposed to do with that information? Think about it just like Potter suggested?

Certainly not.

Potter wasn’t an option, he had never been one. He was the Golden boy, the boy who lived
and the boy who succeeded. He fought the Dark Lord thrice and each time, he won. Draco
was aware of how powerful he was, everyone had heard the stories and the rumours, but he
knew too well befriending Potter or even just being his ally would be like committing
suicide.

He may as well throw himself from the tower if he ever came to do that.

His eyes darted from a spot to another but he couldn’t find any answers at the moment, his
head dizzy by both fear and anger. He felt humiliated. Potter never won their fights and now
that Draco thought about it, perhaps was he just letting him win all along. Surely Potter could
have ended him multiple times by now but he never did. So why did he tonight?

Was he genuine? Did he mean what he had said?

Draco didn’t know what to think and he began to feel really overwhelmed. Potter was
offering him an out, a different one than the one Sirius and Remus had offered him but an
out, still. Yet, he couldn’t even consider it without his body shaking and a wrecked sob
breaking out at the back of his throat.

Maybe Potter was right. Maybe he had a way out but was too much of a coward to even
consider it a realistic option. Maybe Draco chose already without even meaning to. He had
chose simplicity over good and no one could say the results were all that great so far.

Because it was easier, wasn’t it? Following the orders and obeying to the Dark Lord was
easier than fighting his power and that ambience of submission he had been submersed in.
Yielding under his threats and giving him the power over his life was easier than renouncing
to the cause and fighting it.

So yes, maybe Potter was right and yet that perspective didn’t make him happy. If anything, it
caused him to cry.

Coward.

He heard that word reverberating in every corner of his head and he couldn’t help but think it
was the truth. He knew deep down that Potter’s offer meant everything and yet nothing at the
same time for he was so going to turn it down because he couldn’t chose the greater good. He
wasn’t brave enough for that.

He spent the four hours left before the meeting crying and thinking about it all, his arse on
the cold floor of the tower.

He was exhausted. So exhausted.

Five in the morning arrived quite quickly after that, which wasn’t surprising because Draco
spent the last four hours reconsidering his options and the choices he made in his life. How
ironic was it that Potter offered him a hand when he’d refused a handshake all those years
ago? What had he done to deserve it today, that he hadn’t five years ago? What had changed?

He had no idea but perhaps should he be grateful rather than suspicious. However, it would
be very unlike him not to be wary about Potter and question his intentions, especially because
Draco knew he was close to Dumbledore and he didn’t trust him – neither did Sirius, it
seemed.

He pushed the thoughts away as he stood up from the cold floor, pushing on his arms as he
did to leave the tower. He’d done some breathing exercises like Regulus recommended and
he meditated too to ensure he’d be strong enough to maintain his shields during the meeting.
He didn’t want anyone to intrude his mind now did he?

The time he spent with Regulus hadn’t been completely useless, far less than expected at
least and it turned out he was right when he suggested to meditate a bit. It took a couple of
hours but eventually Regulus understood what was wrong with his shields. Well, the issue
obviously wasn’t his shields but his feelings which were all over the place, spilling out of him
despite he didn’t want to, often at the worst timing. Hence why he began to meditate
thoroughly.

Draco never believed in meditation and its properties until now but he’d been forced to admit
it did wonder on the control of his emotions. It was so easy to keep them under control when
his mind was calmer.

There was nothing surprising in that, not really, but it felt nice to finally have a bit of his old-
self back. Also, meditating helped with the way the wolf interfered with his feelings and
messed with his life. It was like it reduced the effects the moon had on him. Therefore, before
going to the meeting, he did meditate a bit.

He had no regrets.

The wind was blowing hard at the break of dawn and as soon as he put a foot outside, he put
on his hood to protect himself from the heavy rain. It had been falling for two days now,
though not continuously. He feet produced a soft lapping sound as his heels pressed into the
puddles of water which had formed a bit everywhere on the ground.

It was extremely dark outside but he didn’t dare to take his wand out and cast lumos just in
case of, he really didn’t need to be seen by anyone and the blackness of his robes concealed
his silhouette which helped him to blend into the background. In case that wasn’t enough, he
had cast a disillusionment charm on himself so he could walk in the corridors without being
seen.

When he reached the forest, he jerked his arm harshly enough to make his wand drop to his
palm, his left hand clenching around it as he sensed danger surrounding him. The first step he
took into the forest sent shivers down his spine. He remembered all too well the first time
he’d come here and he didn’t want to relive that ever again.

When he reached the crossroads, Draco looked on the right then on the left and then on the
right again, desperately trying to find out which way he should follow. He pressed his lips in
a thin line and took the paper out of his pocket. He enchanted it to protect it from the rain and
he read it again.

“Forbidden Forest behind the pixies lake,” he read aloud before he looked around again.

He had no idea where to go from there but he could see the first lights glistening behind the
windows as the castle woke up so he supposed he should go in the opposite direction, deeper
into the forest. However, since he had no idea how to reach it, Draco chose safety over
temerity and he pointed his wand to the sheet of paper he was still holding.

“Dux viam,” he whispered as he cast a spell.

A bright light escaped the tip of the wand and illuminated the floor in front of him before
darkness swallowed it again, leaving only small balls of energy – blue and translucent like
patronuses – behind it as they appeared and levitated above the ground, showing him the way
to follow. That spell ensured only the caster could see them.
Draco swallowed before he shoved the paper into his pocket and began to walk again, his
hand still holding his wand too tightly as his heart began to hammer in his chest and his ribs.
His feet took him deeper into the forest and a lump began to form in his throat, especially
when he saw the moonlight reflecting itself on the surface of the water nearby. He supposed
he was getting closer now.

No matter what would happen today, Draco knew nothing would be the same. Potter’s offer
was still vivid in his mind.

He pushed a large leaf out of the way to pass and then he jumped above a massive trunk
which had been stricken by thunder. Once he passed it, he finally heard the sound of the
pixies’ wings flapping the air and he knew he had been right to be worried. Not far from there
were standing at least fifteen people, all gathered behind one man.

Draco audibly gulped as he worked his jaw and tried to appear more relaxed than he really
was. He stopped walking to gather himself and he readjusted his robes as to look more
confident. When it was done, he began to walk again until he joined everyone. A yellow
toothy grin greeted him, two sharp fangs caught the light and Draco did everything he could
not to run away.

Fenrir Greyback was his host today and he was almost as scary as the Dark Lord himself.

“Is everybody seeing that, too? Draco Malfoy came!” he snarled mockingly as he looked at
his pack. “Isn’t it lovely of you to meet with us today,” he grinned.

“You called. I came,” he said. “It’s as simple as that”

“What a smart boy you are,” he said as he took a step forward and smacked his face in a very
humiliating way, as though he was his inferior.

Draco gritted his teeth. He could tolerate a lot but being Greyback’s inferior was the most
insulting thing ever.

“I see you didn’t come alone, though,” Draco nodded to his pack who was silently watching
them talking.

“I thought you’d like to meet with your family,” he replied.

“My family? I already have one,” he retorted.

“But you don’t have a pack,” he grinned before he paused. “Or do you?”

Did he? Draco didn’t think he did. Sure, Remus was a werewolf and they always spent the
full moon together but it didn’t mean they were part of the same pack, especially because
Remus had his own and never once implied Draco was part of it.

No. Draco didn’t have a pack. But that didn’t mean he was a lonely wolf either.

In front of Draco’s reluctance to answer a simple question, Greyback sneered and turned to
face his cubs.
“I told you he didn’t!” he said loudly before he turned to look at Draco again. “But that
doesn’t mean you can’t have one,” he grinned again, revealing his canines once more.

Draco stared at him blankly.

“What are you talking about? Are you offering me to join your pack?”

Greyback barked a nasty laugh which had nothing genuine before he put a threatening look
on Draco again.

“That is not an offer, pup,” he spat dangerously. “I’m not asking”

Draco blinked and involuntarily took a step back, showing more fear than he should have
because Greyback looked genuinely pleased by his reaction. He cursed himself silently.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he denied.

“And I don’t think you know how it works altogether,” Greyback bit back. “I bit you. You’re
mine,” he growled. “I asked you to come and you came. Now, when I’ll ask you to do
something for me, you will too”

“Or what?” he asked cheekily. “Surely that’s not my only option”

Greyback sneered again before he looked at his pack and flexed his muscles just to show
everyone who was the strongest here. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a hairy and
strong chest. He grabbed Draco by the throat and he pushed him against the trunk of a tree.
Draco almost whimpered but he caught himself at the last second. Though he winced.

“See that mark, right here?” he asked as he pointed at a scar under his shoulder blade. “It’s
the man who bit me who left it here. I got his head for that,” he growled. “What do you think
I would do to one of my pup if he refused to show obedience and respect to me?” he barked
harshly as he squeezed Draco’s neck just to induce fear.

It worked.

“Is it disrespectful to politely turn down an offer I’m not interested in?” he tried to say it
sarcastically but it sounded like he genuinely asked instead.

Greyback smirked before he released him and grabbed him by the hair. This time, Draco
whimpered as he fell on his knees. Greyback pulled on his hair to force his head to tilt
backwards and he put his filthy fingers on his cheek, his claws already out.

“I like you, Malfoy. I’d really hate to disfigure that pretty face you’ve got there,” he said as
he cut a straight line right under his eye. “However, if you don’t do as I say, I may be tempted
to poke your eye out first. I always loved the way it looked,” he smirked.

“I don’t think you will,” Draco said.

He honestly had no idea where that courage came from because he wanted nothing but to run
and hide right now.
“Oh, you think so?”

“A blind wolf is absolutely useless. Besides, if you really wanted to hurt me, you would’ve
already. You never bothered talking so much before,” he shot back. “So what is it you really
want from me?”

Greyback’s jaw clenched and he tightened his fingers in his hair which caused him a lot of
pain. “Perhaps it’s your tongue I should take first”

Draco didn’t answer this time. It wasn’t because he had nothing else to say but because he
was awfully distracted. As Greyback towered him, a necklace he had clasped around his neck
hung out of his shirt and Draco felt quite hypnotised. He had never seen anything so beautiful
before but it was so much more than its unequalled beauty that caught his eye.

Draco was convinced it was a magical jewel. He could feel it calling him somehow and he
felt the irrepressible urge to reach out for it. When he stretched a hand, his lips parted,
Greyback immediately let go of him and took a step back before he tucked it back into his
shirt after he buttoned it up to his neck.

“We’ll talk about this again. Maybe after another full moon on your own you’d realise where
your loyalty truly lies,” he growled. “A war’s coming Draco Malfoy. You should pick your
allies carefully,” he said.

Then, he snapped his fingers and he left, his pack following him closely.

“Can’t believe the Dark Lord wants to mark someone like you so soon. You obviously don’t
deserve it if you’re still hesitating,” he last spoke as he walked deeper into the forest until he
disappeared completely out of sight, leaving Draco behind.

Draco watched them leave without being sure about what had just occurred.

What had been that necklace that he so desperately wanted to grab? And why Greyback was
claiming him now, all of a sudden? It had been so long since he bit him – five months – and
never once did he ever bring it up. So why now? And what about the mark?

Were those just empty words to scare him – or more likely to motivate him to pick Greyback
over his potential loneliness – or was he telling the truth? He knew nothing about the Dark
Lord’s plan. He thought he did but if Draco had learnt anything the past few months it was
that the Dark Lord was unpredictable and that the plan often changed. There was no way for
him to keep up, especially not from Hogwarts where he was cut from the manor.

Therefore, he didn’t know what was going to happen to him soon. And how soon was soon?
December? March? July maybe? He had no idea!

He didn’t know and it drove him mad because Fenrir F. Greyback was another mystery he
couldn’t solve and he had too many of them already. He didn’t need any more of them,
especially not when the questions brought so many negative emotions to him.
And what the fuck was the F in ‘Fenrir F. Greyback’ even stood for?! Draco decided he’d
answer at least one of those questions and declared the F would stand for ‘fucking’ because
he had no respect for that man he despised so much.

Fenrir Fucking Greyback. Yes, it sounded quite accurate.

He stood up and put on his hood again before he picked up his wand he’d dropped on the
floor when Greyback had grabbed him. Then, he cleaned the blood spilling softly out of the
cut with his thumb and he tried to find his way back to the castle through the forest.

Several minutes later, he was standing in front of his dorm and he had no idea how he even
ended up there. His head was spinning and he had no memory of the way he took to reach the
dorm. He just knew his knees were trembling and his heart was beating abnormally fast as he
clenched his fist around his shirt, applying pressure onto his chest. He was so close to fall or
to pass out. He didn’t know anymore.

He was so exhausted.

When he opened the door, his clothes drenched from the rain and his sight blurry, he
stumbled awkwardly towards his bed with the last forces he had. León came out of the
bathroom right at the moment when Draco caught himself against his bedpost because his
legs ceded under him and couldn’t carry his weight anymore. León was by his side within a
second as he held him and helped him to sit on his bed.

“Are you okay?” León asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Draco didn’t answer
to his question so he took his chin in his hand and he forced their eyes to meet. That was
when he saw the cut on his cheek, right under his eye. “What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing”

“Draco,” he sighed, obviously not believing him. “You can talk to me you know?” Draco
nodded slowly but he still had no intentions on talking about whatever happened. León didn’t
insist.

“Have you been out all night?” he asked, worried. “Are you okay?” he added in a rush.

“I just– I just need a moment,” he said as he put a hand on his head, hoping the room would
stop spinning soon.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” León frowned.

“No,” he sighed. “I haven’t been out all night”

“But you didn’t come back to the dorm last night, after we worked on the runes,” he pointed
out.

“Leave it, okay? I just need a minute. I’m fine”

“No you’re not. Have you been drinking the phials recently?”
“León,” he sighed.

“No but answer me. Please,” he asked gently.

Draco didn’t answer for a moment but eventually, he reluctantly nodded. León sighed.

“I don’t need to be lectured okay?”

“I still don’t like that,” León answered. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, at least let me
help you. We’re going to get you to bed,” he said.

“I can do it on my own,” he glared at him, feeling attacked in his pride.

“I don’t think you can. You could barely stand a moment ago,” he said.

Draco looked at his laps, ashamed. He really didn’t want to receive León’s help, he felt too
ridiculous. No one ever had to take care of him before. Not like that. It felt too weird. But he
knew he didn’t have much choice left considering the level of exhaustion he submitted his
body to. He was so close to pass out.

“Alright. I allow it,” he said. León’s lips twitched. “what?”

“Nothing it’s just uh… You always have a way with words. You always sound like you’re
doing me a favour when I’m the one helping you,” he pointed out.

“You want to help me or not?” he snapped.

“Okay sorry,” he chuckled. “Fine”

“Thanks,” he said when León began to help him to take off his robes.

With León’s help, Draco managed to get out of his clothes and put on some new. He was
thankful León didn’t comment on his scars – whether they were fresh or not. He didn’t even
glance twice at them. As soon as Draco’s shirt was off, León had turned away to fold his
clothes and dry them while Draco put on his pyjamas. Then, once he was dressed and ready
for bed, León helped him to get in bed and he sat next to him.

“Can I ask you a question?” León said quietly after a while.

“Sure,” he nodded, curious.

“How did you know it was your bed? The first day I mean. I talked a lot with the boys and
they said Slytherins used to have private bedrooms”

“Yeah, we did. I don’t know why we don’t this year though,” he frowned.

“About that… I pulled some strings and asked to influential people and I–“

“You asked to your auror didn’t you?” he scoffed.

“He’s not my auror! But yeah, I definitely did,” he chuckled. Draco did too.
“So? What did he say?”

“I discovered it was a measure Dumbledore put in place among others such as the prefect
patrols and the shared classes with the other houses to limit the spread of a potential cluster
of future death eaters among the students. He thought anyone isolated might be an easy target
to be recruited by the death eaters, especially because a lot of students have a parent who’s
loyal to the cause,” he explained.

Draco swallowed. Dumbledore couldn’t have been more right. Unfortunately, his efforts were
vain as he was the living proof one could isolate himself even when surrounded by other
people

“I see.. So we don’t have private bedrooms anymore as to make sure no one’s isolated?”

“Yes. The idea is to limit the influence of death eaters over the students,” he nodded.

“I see,” he repeated.

“So?”

“Mmh?”

“I wondered ever since… Was it really your bed I was settling on or were you only taking the
piss to rile me up that day?” he asked.

“Oh no, it definitely was my bed,” he replied with a yawn.

“Oh,” he breathed. A pause. “How did you know?” he asked with curiosity.

Draco shifted awkwardly under the sheets as he thought about whether or not he should tell
him but then, he decided he could. It’s not as if León was completely unaware of the whole
situation anyway. He knew so much already. What was one more thing to tell him?

“I used to make notches in the bedposts,” he explained.

“Why?” he asked confused.

“One for each day I stayed here,” he supplied.

“Oh. Like the prisoners do in those old muggle movies? So you don’t like Hogwarts?” he
frowned. Draco chuckled but it turned into another yawn.

“On the contrary. I used to count them each night before I sleep until third year. When I went
home, I’d count them mentally before falling asleep as to remind myself I had good days too,
outside of the house,” he explained. “It helped me when I felt desperate. I used to hold onto
them, to know better days were coming back soon”

“Oh,” he breathed again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry”

“It’s okay,” he said.

“You should try to sleep now. I’ll bring you food for when you wake up,” he smiled.

Draco returned the smile tightly and nodded. He barely hit the pillow that his eyes fluttered
and he fell asleep.

Merlin, he was so exhausted. He wanted to sleep forever.

 Ghosts Of The Past
Chapter Notes

CW Underage smoking

Wednesday 20th of November 1996.

Today was a rainy day. Truthfully, the same could be said about any day this week because
the rain hadn’t stopped pouring much in the past week but that was just Scotland weather,
really. Nothing new and nothing an umbrella couldn’t fix. Besides, the raindrops hitting the
lake helped him sleep at night.

Draco woke up to the sound of his friends’ joyous laughters as they exchanged jokes and got
dressed to attend their classes – and breakfast first, though he skipped it more often than not.
Outside, the thunder roared loudly from time to time but it was far enough that there were
just a few lightnings streaking the sky – they couldn’t even see them from the dungeons.

León was talking animatedly about France and the place he grew up in, saying he loved rainy
days more than anything and Theo was nodding enthusiastically. With barely three hours of
sleep, Draco didn’t match their energy nor their mood. He woke up grumpy and tired, the
previous days replaying in his head as he still struggled to make up his mind about Potter’s
offer.

And Potter’s only.

There was not a world in which he’d join Greyback’s pack, not even under death threats. He
didn’t trust him and he despised him too much to follow his orders. He had absolutely no
respect for him. How could he respect someone who destroyed people’s lives and murdered
them easily just because he thought it was fun? Greyback was sick. Draco would never
become the weapon of another man. One was already enough as it was.

Blaise was standing in front of his wardrobe and he hadn’t moved in the past ten minutes as
he tried to make up his mind and pick an outfit for today. He didn’t know what to wear and
the deluge outside was not making it any easier. He looked a bit less sullen than he had been
the past few days but he remained quiet.

Draco really needed to talk to him. But not now. Right now, he glared at his friends through
the curtains for being so loud and joyful before he stood up and mumbled something under
his breath.

He slammed the door of the bathroom shut after he entered, his friends’ eyes followed him
despite he was not even in the mood to say hello. Small talks never were his thing anyway.
He couldn’t understand why would people speak to say absolutely nothing interesting. It felt
like a waste of time to him and it annoyed him.

The first thing he did when he entered the bathroom was to walk to the sink in order to wash
his face before he looked at his reflection, finally meeting his eye after avoiding it for so
long. He was glad to see he had gained some weight again despite he was still skipping meals
from time to time. His cheeks looked a bit less hallow than they used to be a few weeks ago
and when he shifted a bit to look at his back and the way his stomach looked like, he noticed
his ribs were appearing a bit less.

It wasn’t perfect yet, but he was getting there. Now he just needed to practise sport again as
to gain some muscles back and he’ll be back to how he looked like before everything
happened.

He grabbed the flesh of stomach between two fingers and he stretched it a bit as he studied
the way his scar looked like. It wasn’t white yet. Greyback’s canines deeply anchored in his
flesh, the unique memory he kept of what had happened that night. A night full of mysteries
he had yet to solve.

His nose wrinkled in disgust and rancour as he brushed the wounded skin. How could
Greyback even think for a second he’d choose him after what he’d done to him. Draco
couldn’t remember anything and yet he knew that without Remus’ intervention that day,
Greyback would have probably killed him or left him for dead.

Besides, he had never expressed any interest in adding Draco to the pack before so his
motives must have been elsewhere and since Draco didn’t know where exactly they were, he
outright refused to even consider his offer.

No matter what his motives were, they couldn’t be good anyway. So really, he wasn’t missing
anything by turning him down. It probably even extended his life expectancy.

He shook his head, disgusted with the way Greyback tried to manipulate him and he tried to
think of something a bit more positive as not to dwell on himself for too long. He was
grateful for Sirius and Remus because if not for them, he’d be completely isolated and
vulnerable and he would’ve probably agreed to join the pack. But he had them and he wasn’t
alone during the full moon. That was still absolutely terrible to go through it but it was easier
with them by his side.

He took his clothes off and he walked into the shower. He had to be quick though because
this morning he couldn’t miss breakfast. He was expecting some post from Remus. He’d sent
him the wolfsbane potion this time again and Draco had been careful to swallow it at one in
the afternoon. He never had class at that hour so he could sneak in his dorm and down the
phial in peace.

After he dried himself and he got dressed, Draco exited the bathroom to go back to the dorm.
Blaise was wearing his Slytherin Quidditch jumper. León and Theo were wearing their
Slytherin jumper too but they had nothing to do with Quidditch though they still matched
Blaise. Draco frowned.
“What’s happening here?” Draco asked as he glanced at them quickly before he walked to his
bed and knelt in front of his trunk to take a pair of socks out.

“We’re going to watch the Gryffindor team practise today,” Theo answered.

“Wanna come?” León offered.

Draco gave them a look but he shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer though”

León shrugged and Theo gave him a look as his features hardened but he didn’t say anything
else. Draco was getting tired of his bitchy face, really. He couldn’t figure out what his
problem was. He sighed quietly as he refocused on his trunk to take a tie out. He felt a hand
on his shoulder and he turned around quickly to see Blaise towering him.

“You should come,” he said, his tone kind and gentle.

Draco stared at him in the eyes as he tried to find something there, something that had been
missing for a while now – the light igniting his irises – but just as per usual, it wasn’t there.
He pursed his lips, still holding his gaze before he straightened to his full height, his tie in his
hand.

“Do you need me to come?” he asked in a quiet murmur so that the other boys wouldn’t hear
him.

“I just thought you’d like it, you know? Since we used to–“ but he shut his mouth when
Draco put a friendly hand on his forearm.

“Blaise,” he said gently. “That’s not what I am asking,” he said, his gaze fixed on him. They
communicated silently for a moment before Blaise swallowed and nodded imperceptibly.

“Yes, please. I need you to come,” he whispered.

Draco nodded. “I’ll come then. Give me a minute to get dressed,” he said as he threw the tie
back in the trunk and he shut it nonchalantly before he walked to his wardrobe to take his
own Quidditch jumper out and he put it on. When he turned around, León and Theo gave him
curious looks.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re coming with us in the end?” Theo asked dumbfounded.

“It seems that I am, yes,” he nodded. He took his polar robes and he put them above his
clothes as not to get cold. “Okay I’m almost ready,” he said. “You can go downstairs I’ll join
you in a minute”

“You guys go ahead, I need to talk to Draco alone for a second,” León said before they could
even move to the door. Draco shot him a confused look but his friends nodded and exited the
dorm without asking questions.
León took a step forward, his head slightly cocked on the side and one of his eyebrow arched
as he looked at Draco.

“Am I in trouble?” he snorted before he leaned against the bedpost.

“I know why you wanted them to go downstairs without you and we both know it’s not right.
You’re going to kill yourself at some point,” he said as he passed his tongue on his lips and
Draco’s face hardened.

So that was what he wanted to talk about.

“I don’t need your advice, but thanks for nothing I guess,” he said passive-aggressively as he
shut down completely and opened his trunk again.

Just because he wanted to be petty, he uncapped a phial of invigorating draught and downed
it, his eyes locked on León, challenging, as he swallowed everything down. León sighed.

“I’m not trying to piss you off”

“Okay but you are though,” he shot back hastily.

“You’ve got a problem mate,” he said matter-of-factly. Draco’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t recall asking you,” he glared at him.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it and I haven’t–“ he began.

“But you’ve been talking about it too much already, for someone who’s supposed not to talk
about it,” he retorted as he crossed his arms on his chest.

“Because I’m worried,” he replied calmly. “It’s killing you slowly. You’re not only having
them from time to time, you’re having them constantly and it’s ruining your body,” he said.

“Don’t you think I know that? Sirius already told me!” he hissed.

“Then why are you still using it?” he asked in return.

Draco noticed one of his eye was turning a light shade of red. He really needed to keep track
on the colours his eyes took because so far he still had no idea what half of those colours
meant. Though he logically supposed red meant anger.

“You don’t know half of the story so don’t judge me,” he said as he shook his head.

“I’m not judging you,” he denied.

“It feels like you are,” he glared at him.

“But I’m not. I swear. The other day didn’t look good, you know? I really thought you were
about to pass out on the floor,” he pressed his lips in a thin line. “Do you know how that
feels?”
“I wouldn’t die,” he rolled his eyes.

“You don’t know that. And you certainly will die if you keep on using,” he said sternly.

Draco sighed, too exhausted to have another fight. He had too much of these lately.

“I hear you,” he said. “But as long as I don’t have any other choice, I’ll use it,” he insisted.

León looked at him carefully as he studied his features and the redness of his irises
disappeared as it turned into a deeper blue. He nodded reluctantly and he stood up before he
unlocked his own trunk and took a pile of paper out. He handed it to Draco who shot him a
confused look.

“I worked on the translation, for the runes,” he explained. “I am not done yet but this is a
beginning and with that you should be able to use the vanishing cabinet,” he said.

Draco’s jaw dropped.

“How do you–“

“How do I know about the cabinet? You’re so exhausted that you gave me the wrong papers
along with the runes you needed me to translate last time, “ he said. “There was a plan of one
of them and with the translation I made, it was easy to understand what it really was about,”
he said.

Draco looked at him completely stunned before he looked down at his feet, mortified.

“That’s why you need to stop using, Draco,” León said sympathetically. Draco’s eyes
snapped to look at him again. “I am not lecturing you, I’m showing you the danger you’re
facing. Those plans you gave me, they’re incriminating. Especially with all the notes you
wrote on them. It’s a mistake you wouldn’t have made if you had been fully rested”

Draco swallowed and blinked quickly. “But I have no choice,” he said, his voice barely above
a whisper.

León sat next to him on his bed. “I gathered,” he replied before he put his hand on his. “But
this is going to end very badly for you if you keep going,” he said as he stroked his knuckles
after he laced his hand in his. Draco looked at the way their hands fit in each other and the
muscles of his face twitched a bit as he tried to repress the sadness and the strange feeling
pooling in his stomach.

When he looked at him in the eye, León’s left eye was back to the usual purple Draco was
becoming so accustomed to. He didn’t know what that colour represented either but he liked
it best because León looked always a bit happier when his eye had that colour.

They remained on the bed, holding hands in silence for a few moments. Then, León let go
and stood up again to pick up the papers and he tidied them in Draco’s trunk.

“You’ll think about it later, okay? For now, we have to go and make fun of the Gryffindors,”
he smirked playfully.
“We both know you think it’s immature,” Draco deadpanned which made León laugh.

“Oh you’re so right,” he chuckled. “But it seems like I like my friends a bit immature,” he
grinned. “C’mon let’s go. You need to eat,” he smiled before he opened the door and held it
for Draco.

Draco shook his head but smiled softly before he pushed on his feet and checked his hair one
last time. Then, he walked towards the door.

“Bloody Hufflepuff,” he muttered as he passed in front of him.

“I heard that,” León said as he pretended to be offended.

“I hope so because it was meant to be heard,” he gave him a cheeky grin.

“Oh, fuck off,” he laughed.

Draco laughed too.

Breakfast went alright and so did the two hours he spent in Herbology after that. He struggled
a bit to keep his eyes open, his lids too heavy and his heartbeat hammering in his chest made
him feel sick but at the end of the class, he was still standing and his plant was still alive. His
head spun with each step he took and he even wondered if he was going to collapse this time
as he passed the doors of the greenhouse.

He didn’t know how much his body could still take but he was reaching his limits, day after
day he was coming closer to ruin himself.

Despite the vibrant exhaustion and his hands shaking uncontrollably all the time now, Draco
didn’t miss the occasion to make fun of Potter and his friends when he saw them in the
corridors, heading towards the Great Hall for lunch as he did too with León.

“Will you grant us a remake of third year, Potter? The storm’s violent this time, maybe it’ll
hit your broom before it hits you,” he sneered.

“Fuck off Malfoy,” Weasley spat.

“Don’t mind him, Ron. He’s just bored,” Potter answered, looking unbothered.

“It’s surprising you fell off your broom that year,” Draco insisted, a mean smile curling his
lips. He hated when Potter didn’t play along. “I would’ve thought you were fond of thunder
what with that ugly scar disfiguring you,” he sneered.

That was the biggest lie he’d probably ever spoken but no one would know.

Potter’s scar was definitely not discreet but it was also very not ugly. Especially not to
Draco’s eyes. It took roots in his dark curls and it fell past his eyebrow, his eyelids were
stripped with the white lightning-shape scar engraved in his skin as it spread to the side of his
temple. It almost looked like a tiny white tree grew on his skin.
Beautiful. That was all he could think about to describe it.

However, Draco was certainly not going to say that aloud. Potter didn’t need to know that, it
was no one else’s business but Draco’s if he thought it looked gorgeous.

Potter gave him an unimpressed look and approached him until they were close enough that
no one would hear him. They were almost chest to chest and Draco carefully avoided looking
in his eyes.

“Is that your way of telling me to fuck off?” he asked. “Are you turning down my offer,
Malfoy? That wouldn’t be very smart but I suppose you’re in no capacity of being intelligent
these days,” he said as he looked at him up and down.

Draco’s jaw clenched and he wrinkled his nose in fury.

“If that’s how you plan to convince me, you’re doing a shit job,” Draco informed him and
Potter smiled a little.

“From my experience, you seem to only listen to me when I’m not trying to be kind to you.
What was it you called that the other day? A kink?” he smiled smugly.

Draco wanted to punch his stupid face for using his provocations against him. Instead, he
jerked his arm and his wand fell to his hand swiftly. He barely motioned it as he sent a
stinging hex his way and Potter flinched a bit when it hit him. He glared at Draco and rubbed
the aching spot while Draco smirked.

“I thought you’d like a preview of how it’d feel like when you’ll be thunderstruck today,” he
said as he walked backwards towards the Great Hall. “See you on the pitch, Potter”

“You’re not even playing, you coward!”

“Ah, you know what they say,” he shrugged as he turned around to face the entrance of the
room.

“No, what do they say?” he asked cheekily.

Draco smirked again. He took a second before he answered.

“Un roi ne joue pas avec les oies,” he said in French, just because he could.

That was one of the rare thing he still remembered from his childhood. His mother often said
that when he was still a child.

“What does that even mean?” Potter frowned but he remained planted in the corridor.
“Malfoy?! What does that mean?!” he called but Draco gave him the V sign and entered in
the Great Hall without answering.

When he was far enough, León leaned against him and whispered. “That doesn’t mean shit,
you know that? I mean it does, but no one says that. Like it’s not a proverb or something,” he
chuckled.
“Oh I know. I liked that it rhymed though. Isn’t it awfully poetic?” he chuckled too. “Besides,
Potter doesn’t know that I lied,” he smirked as he reached the Slytherin table. His face fell
when his eyes fell on Pansy. She gave him a sad look. She didn’t even look angry anymore
these days, just sad and it broke his heart.

Draco stared at her, frozen. He didn’t know what to do. He knew he had to talk to her but
how? What could he say? And when? The longer it lasted, the harder it was to fix this. He
swallowed and Pansy looked away as she refocused on Astoria who was talking to her. Draco
looked down his feet.

“Let’s take a seat a bit further,” he whispered to León.

“No, we should sit with the boys. We’re supposed to spend the day with them today,” he
reminded him.

“If it matters so much to you, then just go. I’ll sit alone,” he said.

“Fine, let’s sit a bit further away,” he sighed as he walked down the alley to reach the end of
the table. He straddled the bench and Draco did too a seconds after him.

They helped themselves food and they began to eat in silence. It was comfortable and not
heavy but Draco’s head was filled with the conversation they had had before leaving the
dorm. He genuinely didn’t notice he’d given the plan of the cabinet to León. Another shove
of his fork in his mouth and Draco almost gagged. He was so fucked.

The invigorating draught was a curse and a blessing. He couldn’t do anything without it but it
made him so incompetent and distracted, dizzy almost. He would never manage to achieve
anything if he remained stuck in that in-between, awake but not completely, asleep but not
entirely. His body was close to shut down and his task was severely impacted by the
exhaustion. Yet he couldn’t do anything to make things better.

And there was no way out.

After they demolished their plates – Draco was fucking hungry today – he leaned on his
hand, his fingers pressing into his cheek and his eyes fluttered. Eating was a dangerous thing,
especially while exhausted. It was hard to resist and not sleep when his body digested the
food. He was reaching a point where the potions hardly had any effects on him anymore, his
body getting used to it and yet he kept having them, if only for the small boost of energy he
had after he downed a phial, even if it lasted only three hours now.

The side effects were terribly affecting him though, the other side of the coin to stay awake
just a few more hours.

The owls flew in as per usual and Draco was almost completely out by the time his father’s
owl dropped a letter in front of his plate meanwhile León was busy reading the newspapers
he’d received. Draco’s head was throbbing and he struggled to stay awake. Eventually, he
began to doze against his hand.
As the seconds passed, he felt his heart beat quickening alarmingly – one of the treacherous
side effects he was suffering from the most – until he could feel it beating in his neck. He
jolted awake and put a hand around on his throat to feel his heartbeat. It was pounding hard
and fast and he felt slightly breathless. He closed his eyes as he tried to breathe deeply, a
method he applied when he needed to calm down. He felt so numb and exhausted in the
weirdest way.

“Draco?” León asked, alarmed when Draco began to pant a bit in front of him.

His situation drew a couple of Slytherins’ eyes on him but thankfully, for now, no one else
seemed to notice his distress.

“I’m fine”

“Should I take you to the hospital wing?” he asked, concerned.

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped. “I just need a minute”

“Last time you said that you almost collapsed in our dorm,” he shot back.

Draco shook his head and refocused on breathing. In and out, slowly. He inhaled and exhaled
in rhythm and he massaged his throat as though it would help. The sensation of being out of
breath was excruciating, it felt like he was suffocating though he could tell air reached his
lungs. His body was so stupid sometimes.

It took a couple more minutes before he managed to catch his breath and a few more until his
heartbeat slowed down a bit. It happened from time to time. Sirius had warned him about it
but experiencing it was extremely different and it actually felt like his body was dying
slowly.

When he looked up, he found Granger, Weasley and Potter’s eyes on him and he sent them a
cold glare until they refocused on their table. He saw their lips moving and he didn’t need to
be by their side to guess they were talking about him.

Draco’s jaw clenched and he looked away, his eyes finally falling on the letter the owl had
dropped for him. He took it before he stood up and left the Great Hall to go to his dorm. León
tried to talk but Draco didn’t listen to what he had to say and he strutted his way out of the
room.

He had to drink the phial of wolfsbane potion anyway. It was close to one now.

Once he was in his dorm, Draco sat on his bed and took the letter out to read it in the privacy
of his bedroom. The boys wouldn’t come back until at least half past one, they never did. He
had a bit of time ahead of him to work on his task and meditate a bit. His eyes skimmed
through the paper, only reading through it diagonally as he couldn’t stand the pressure his
father put on him anymore.

His eyes caught the words he dreaded the most. Somewhere around the middle of the letter,
his father said something about the dark mark and his eyes froze before he decided to read
that part carefully.

“The Dark Lord asked your mother and I if we were kin on letting you receive the gift that is
the dark mark before your seventeenth birthday. We didn’t understand why he’d ask us at
first, especially because he never asks anything. He demands. But then we understood.

Do you realise what it means? The efforts you put into the realisation of the task the Dark
Lord gave you are not in vain. Our reputation is recovering from the blow it suffered and this
is the Dark Lord giving us his approbation. Your mother thinks it’s just a test as to see where
our loyalty truly lies and perhaps she is right, however I am very aware it is more than that.
So much more.

Big things are coming. Splendid things! I can tell, can you not? You’ve always been smart, of
course you can. Although, the Dark Lord won’t be able to reach those goals without support
and I believe that’s where you play your part. I also strongly believe the Dark Lord finally
realised how important you were, perhaps even the most important of us all, in order to
conquer the Wizarding World.”

Draco felt sick. He remembered Dolohov’s words. “You’re his goose who lays golden eggs”
he had said. Draco shuddered at the thought. It disgusted him to be reduced to that.

“Therefore, today we’re not asking you. We’re informing you of our decision which is that we
promised the Dark Lord you shall receiving the dark mark as soon as he wishes for it would
benefit the war efforts and be an incommensurable honour for our family. The biggest of
honours for you.

We already set a date. On the 27th of December, your fate will be sealed and you’ll join our
ranks and bow in front of the Dark Lord as your peers will welcome you among them.”

He reread the last part over and over again as it let it print into his head. It had been there
ever since June, the threat of the dark mark, and yet never until today had it felt so real, so
close. Draco swallowed harshly. He knew the day would come, he knew it was just a matter
of time but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

His breathing came shallow and short as his fingers clenched around the paper, folding it
under the pressure he applied. His eyes itched as he sprung to his feet and paced the room. He
tried to calm down, he didn’t want to have another panic attack. Besides, the news didn’t
really come as one. It had been somewhere in the corner of his head ever since Greyback had
mentioned it and even months before that. He was expecting to hear about it soon. Just not
that soon.

He exhaled sharply as he rolled the letter in a ball and he threw it on the ground furiously,
anger rising and shaping his face as it distorted in an ugly sneer. He was mad. He was
frustrated with how his life had been planned for him without even consulting him and he felt
like a lion in a cage, trapped and tamed. He hated it. He despised it. He wanted to lash out.
He wanted to break things and let his anger explode. He wanted to– No. He would not lose it.

He’d progressed so so much ever since July, when his anger was impossible to keep under
control and exploded viciously when he least expected it. He wasn’t like that anymore. Now,
he meditated and he gained some control over his emotions. The full moon was not going to
fuck it up again. He’d tried too hard to give it up now.

Draco opened his trunk and shoved his hand inside to take a chocolate out. It was not easy to
yield in front of his own emotions and he’d rather not rely on them but it was different than
usually. The news was genuinely upsetting, even in the right conditions, even if he had been
in the right state of mind – which he definitely wasn’t – and he needed the chocolate just this
once because on top of everything else, the moon was interfering with his self-control.

He didn’t trust himself when he felt overwhelmed with anger and despite all his efforts,
sometimes something within just snapped and it was hard to repress. That was one of those
times. Fortunately, the chocolate took effects quickly and a few seconds after he swallowed
it, he felt slightly better. Draco wondered if it wasn’t just in his head, a placebo effect
reassuring his brain, easing it until the chocolate actually kicked in.

Either way it worked and that’s all that mattered.

A few moments later, he also uncapped the phial Remus sent him during breakfast and he
swallowed it in a long gulp. As per usual, he destroyed the phial as well as the letter along
with the one his father had sent and he went to sit on his bed to think about it all now he was
a bit calmer. If life taught him something, it was that there was nothing to do against fate.
What was supposed to happen, would. He couldn’t just escape it.

The Gryffindor’s team was pathetic and yet not so much. Draco was not objective, of course.
He always thought Slytherins were better. The warming charm he’d cast over himself was
still active even after the rain became heavier so he wasn’t freezing his bullocks off. Blaise
was sitting by his side, making snide comments about the team and making Theo and León
laughing. Draco was too distracted to listen.

He tried to appear more cheerful than he really felt but the thing is that his mind never shut
up, not even for a second. His father’s handwriting was visible in his head, as visible as the
golden snitch despite the distance. It was not even flying since Potter was selecting who
would and who wouldn’t join the team this year. When he came here, he thought he’d watch
the team practising except it turned out it was only the try-outs.

“Potter looks so ridiculous,” Draco muttered with an eye-roll. “Does he have to lean so much
on his broom?”

“He does if he wants to fly faster,” Blaise said as he glanced at him.

“Still,” he mumbled. “He’s ridiculous”

They watched as Weaslette flew across the field to catch the quaffle. Once she did, Potter
blew in his whistle and they all came to gather around him.

“Mmph,” Draco said disdainfully.

“What?” Theo asked.

“He didn’t even fucking tie his hair. No but really, it’s windy!” he said as he gestured to the
nest Potter called hair.

“It’s not long enough to be tied,” Blaise answered.

“Thanks, I have eyes!”

“Then why did you–“

“My point is,” he said before Theo could finish his sentence. “that he is probably seeing shit
and yet he always catches the bloody snitch,” he spat.

“Oh so that’s what it is about?” Blaise smirked.

“Sorry?” he arched an eyebrow.

“You’re jealous,” he grinned.

“Of that fucker? I’d rather be a Hufflepuff,” he snorted, his arms crossed on his chest.

During their little argument about Potter, the latter had blown in his whistle and the players
were back to the game, flying in circle around the pitch as Potter directed them from above as
to have a full view on the game.

“Merlin, why is Finnigan even trying? He looks like a troll on a broom. Look how he flies!”
Blaise mocked.

Finnigan was the opposite of gracious on a broom but today it was even worse than usually.
His knuckles had turned white around the stick of his broom and his knees were clenched
around it as well, as though he was afraid to fall.

“A troll would have more balance,” Theo sniggered. “He looks like he’s about to fall off his
broom”

Yes, precisely.

“It’s not like he’s going to hurt himself, he’s barely levitating,” Blaise added.

“Oi! The Leprechaun!” Theo shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. Finnigan glared at
him from afar and Theo smirked smugly, all too happy that Finnigan recognised himself
despite he didn’t use his name. “I know you’re short but the match is up there! What are you
waiting for?” he mocked.

“He probably tries for Dean,” Draco supplied absent-mindedly as he watched Finnigan
giving a finger to Theo. It only amused him even more as he laughed. However, Finnigan
flew higher after that.

“Dean?” Blaise echoed. “It’s not like he’d get a chance either. It’s so obvious Potter will pick
Weaslette,” he shook his head.
“There are two chasers in a team,” León pointed out.

“Yeah, but he’s not as fast as Katie Bell,” Blaise said.

“Fair enough,” León cocked his head approvingly. “But why are you so sure Harry would
choose Ginny?” he asked.

“Because he’s in love with her,” Theo snorted.

Draco gave him an undecipherable look as he refocused on the conversation.

“Is he?” León asked startled.

“Are you blind? They definitely fuck,” Theo laughed.

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought so,” León shrugged with a small frown.

“Did you know his mother had red hair too?” Theo said. “He’s definitely looking for his
mummy and he found it in Weaslette. That’s a bit creepy if you ask me but who am I to
judge?” he sneered. “That’s what happens when you grow up without one, you seek for her in
every woman you meet”

Draco frowned, upset at his words. He had met Lily, even if they didn’t talk all that much, he
did. After the story she told them, he didn’t want to hear anyone disrespecting her. He had a
lot of respect for her but also a bit of admiration. However, he couldn’t say as much without
looking suspicious so he didn’t. But it pissed him off.

What came as a surprise was the fact no one seemed to know she was in fact very alive. He
didn’t know how they managed to keep that a secret but he shouldn’t be surprised since they
also kept Sirius hidden all those years and kept a lot of secrets – like the fact they were
animagi for example.

“You seem to know about it all, Nott,” Draco sneered sweetly. “Do you fantasise about your
mum too?” he cooed.

If he couldn’t defend Lily, he could at least show his friend how stupid he was.

“Fuck off,” Theo replied, his ears red. “Of course I don’t you weirdo”

“Then what makes you think Potter do?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at Weaslette and tell me you didn’t think of it too,” he challenged.

Draco gave him a stern look.

“You don’t even know if they fuck,” he said.

“Why are you defending him all of a sudden? You want to gag on his cock so bad or
something?” he asked hotly.
Draco’s gaze turned murderous and Blaise noticed it instantly so he changed the subject.

“Potter’s so gay,” he said. “He definitely doesn’t fuck with her”

Draco shot him a look as he processed his words. He had, in fact, never stopped long enough
to question Potter’s sexuality. Despite the fantasies he had about the other boy, he was still
very much trying not to let his mind linger onto it for far too long. He was embarrassed
whenever his head went to those places.

Besides, he didn’t question it in first place because he knew it was simply impossible for him
to have Potter. He was out of reach, in every universe. He didn’t think they could ever see
past the hatred they mutually shared and even if they did, Potter was still Potter. The golden
boy. The saviour.

Draco was just a Malfoy. His father’s son. Death eater’s scum.

They would never work together. The world would always come in-between and they
wouldn’t be happy. Perhaps they could fuck, but it would never be more than that. Sex. It’d
never evolve into a real relationship. Therefore, Draco could fantasise all he wanted, he never
wondered things about Potter as not to fall in love with the idea of him, one probably miles
away from the real thing, a real thing he’d never get to have.

No. Draco didn’t wonder anything about Potter for his own sanity. It was safer this way.

“Actually, I think he’s bi,” León answered as though Draco wasn’t having another internal
crisis over Potter’s potential sexuality.

“How do you know?”

“He’s dated Cho last year,” Draco seethed before León could even open his mouth. “Now if
you could shut up about Potter and focus on the fucking try-outs, it’d be nice,” he snapped,
definitely over with hearing about him.

It felt like he was everywhere these days.

After the try-outs ended, the boys went under the stands of the Gryffindor side of the pitch
because the wind blew the opposite way and they planned on smoking weed. There, they’d
be hidden and sheltered from the weather and they’d be able to smoke peacefully. They’d
rather tarnish Gryffindor rather than their own house anyway.

Blaise took four spliffs out of his robes and he handed them to his friends which they lit up
instantly. Draco leaned against the stairs as he brought the spliff to his lips, an arm lazily
crossed on his chest while he used his left hand to smoke. He was extremely tired now and
the weed didn’t help at all. He felt even more sleepy.

A bit later, when they vanished the evidences of their crime, Draco saw the sun setting behind
the clouds, the rain still falling heavily. When he turned his head to make sure they didn’t
forget anything, something caught his eye. Dumbfounded, he frowned and took a step
forward to check it out, his wand out as he cast lumos since it was getting dark. A smile
curled his lips up as he read the tag on the board.

It said “R.A.B will be here,”. Right under it was another one, written in another handwriting
which said “R.A.B was here”.

His mind wandered as he imagined when and why those were plastered on the board under
the Gryffindors’ stands. Somehow, it warmed him up a bit when he connected the dots. He
couldn’t tell when the last one had been made but the first one probably had been written by
Sirius himself during his first year when Regulus wasn’t at school yet. It made sense, what
with the way it had been spelled.

Draco thought it was particularly sweet and, since the circle was not ending yet, he took his
wand out to add his own participation to the whole thing and he crafted his own words next
to it in the wood. When he pulled away to look at his work, he chuckled and shook his head.

His said “R.A.B is still here – 1996”.

Now, the circle was fully closed.

 Solicited Youth
Chapter Notes

CW Anxiety
CW Panic Attack
Mention of Rape Threat
Mention of the Pureblood Ideology
Mention of Vomit

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Monday 25th of November 1996.

The full moon was back on a dreary day, November rain hitting the windows insistently since
the morning. The full moon was back and it was a bitch.

Draco knew it, he had the time to see the full extent of its power over him through the months
since he’d been bitten but each time, it always came as a surprise when his body reacted
awfully bad to the moon. He was never fully prepared to face what it exactly meant, to be a
werewolf.

The sickness was unbearable and he was so fucking done being sick every bloody morning
like a pregnant woman. The headaches which lasted for hours and made him feel like his
skull was going to get split in two were driving him utterly crazy. The sweat gathering on his
forehead and along his spine was awful too because it was caused by the never-ending fever
and his body was aching. Everything hurt. His muscles were sore and painful and days after
days it only worsened.

It was even worse this month than it had been in the past because of the constant exhaustion
which was killing him on top of everything else.

In addition to the sickness, his emotions were on a rollercoaster. He was going from laughing
to crying, from tears to anger, from anger to anxiety and from anxiety to sheer fright and all
of those within the same day, sometimes within the same hour, even.

The anger was the worst because he had little to no control over it. He did, outside of the full
moon – at least, more than he used to after he first got bitten – but the closer he got to the
next full, the harder it was to keep it under control and he was a bit scared of himself when
his mood swung to murderous rage. Meditation didn’t help, probably because his mind was at
war and he couldn’t calm down long enough to empty his head.

The thing is, with everything he was facing lately, he always felt angry. Although, it often
was an underlying anger, it didn’t make it any less dangerous. It was quiet but it was still here
and, of course, the chocolate filled their purpose and did wonder to keep him calm but he had
emptied his stack again a few days ago and he could solely rely on his willpower not to lash
out.

It was hard. Almost impossible.

Today, he and his friends were at the library, working on their schoolwork and he’d almost
tore his parchment in thousand pieces at least four times since they arrived because he was
frustrated with his work. They had to hand in an essay about the Congress of Magic and its
implication during the Salem trials for the History of Magic class and it was literally hell.

Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in front of him, their eyebrows knitted as they tried to gather
about as many informations they could use for their essay as it was humanly possible. It was
fucking frustrating to see they succeeded where he failed because the sources he’d found
were all contradicting each others and it pissed him off.

It’s not the fact that Crabbe and Goyle got better results than him that pissed him off. It was
the fact Draco couldn’t find shit to use while they did so easily.

People often underestimated them because they were loyal to Draco, instantly making them
seem like brainless golems Draco controlled as he willed but they were so much more than
that. They had a strong sense of loyalty – Crabbe more than Goyle but still – and they were
physically strong too, it was undeniable. However, they also could use their brains when
necessary and Draco hadn’t led them around the nose ever since their third year, when their
accommodating cooperation turned into a real friendship.

León didn’t join today, he was with Luna and Willow in the forbidden forest, too busy
feeding whatever stray animals they found. Draco thought it was utter madness. After all
those months, he still wondered how León could be a Slytherin. It seemed inconceivable and
yet so logical at the same time. A mystery like he liked them.

Theo wasn’t there either. He was spending his free time with Pansy and Astoria in the
greenhouse. Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew they were not studying plants nor herbology in a
general way. He suspected they were using the spot to smoke weed – Theo really, because
Pansy only smoked cigarettes and he didn’t know about Astoria. He didn’t care about her
really. Until last week, he’d never seen her around his inner circle before.

Thinking about Pansy made his eyes welling up again as his throat constricted and his heart
clenched painfully. He gritted his teeth, completely embarrassed and infuriated with his body
reaction. He felt like a child.

Sure, he missed her but that wasn’t a reason to cry. She wasn’t dead. She was still around and
the only reason he couldn’t see her anymore was himself. Draco often forgot he was his own
enemy. No one sabotaged him as well as he did himself.

“Draco?” he heard Blaise calling when he finally joined them.

He’d been missing during the whole afternoon. As soon as the classes were over, he waved
goodbye and disappeared on his own, barely muttering a word. Truth be told, Draco didn’t
expect him to come at all but since he joined, he supposed it meant he wasn’t doing so bad
today.

Draco lifted his head as he watched Blaise pulling a chair next to him to sit by his side. He
studied his face a bit and saw how relaxed he looked for once. A small smile appeared on his
lips at the thought. Blaise deserved to be happy. It fitted him better anyway. He was so solar,
so radiant and warm. A veritable sunshine in Draco’s storm. He just wished he knew how to
talk to him about what bothered him so much.

He wished he was a better friend. To him, to Pansy and to Theo as well. The thought
vanquished his smile, efficiently ruining his mood and causing his throat to tighten.

Stupid full moon.

“Hello, haven’t seen you much lately,” he said as he buried his thoughts as much as possible
as to look happier than he really felt.

“I’ve been busy,” he shrugged as he took his stuff out.

Draco eyed him curiously but didn’t mention the fact he knew he was lying and he refocused
on his work since Blaise didn’t look like he wanted to talk.

For a while no one spoke. Crabbe and Goyle were muttering things under their breath as they
passed books around and tapped some lines with their fingers, underlining information they
showed to the other. Draco wished he could just ask them to share, he knew they would but
he was a proud man and he would never ask anyone to help him, especially not with his
homework.

He was still bitterly regretting the only time he dared asking for help.

He felt anger rushing under his skin again and he felt frustrated with himself. Why had his
life become like that?

Oh, but he knew why, didn’t he? Lucius, of course.

It was his fault. His and his mother’s who constantly tried to fix things between them as
though it was fixable in first place. It was laughable – and he would’ve laughed if he didn’t
feel so mad right now.

He tried not to be completely mad at her, his conversation with Potter had lingered in his
head ever since it happened and he knew at some point they’d have to talk about it all but
every time Draco had tried to consider the conversation, he’d ended up mad as hell. However,
it did help him realising his anger often was a response to being hurt.

Because he wasn’t just mad at them, was he? Mostly, he was hurt. Yet he couldn’t express
being hurt through other means than anger. He’d been conditioned at a young age to be an
insufferable prat, spitting vile things and sharpening his words until they cut like glass. He
knew how to hurt and he never hesitated to do so when he could.
When Crabbe and Goyle gathered their stuffs to leave the library, Draco watched them leave
with envy. He was so far from finishing this stupid homework and he was still upset. He
groaned in his hands as he furiously threw the quill on the table and rubbed his face. He took
a deep breath to calm down and he tried to reason himself.

It really wasn’t big deal. He didn’t have to get mad about something like that. It was silly.
When he finally successfully calmed down, he took his hands off his face and he picked up
his quill again, determined to be done with it before he’d leave for the full moon. He heard
the distinguishable sound of a silencing charm and he looked up to see who cast it. Blaise had
his wand in hand and so he guessed it was his doing. He frowned.

“I wanted to talk about… you know?” Blaise said as he tried to make his point across.
Draco’s frown deepened.

“I must admit I don’t”

“The full moon,” he whispered.

“The full–“ he scoffed. “Okay, we can talk about it if you want but why are you whispering?
You just cast a silencing charm”

“Right, sorry,” he winced, feeling a little silly.

“So? What did you want to talk about specifically?”

“Well, it’s tonight isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes,” he said as he refocused on his work.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

Draco sighed and put the quill down again to really focus on Blaise.

“What?”

“It’s Monday,” he said. His eyes grew size a bit to make it more obvious.

“Okay? Next time I’ll need a calendar I’ll ask you,” he said.

Blaise chuckled. “Fuck off, I’m trying to tell you something here”

“Right,” he replied dryly. “Sorry to say it’s not as obvious as you seem to think it is”

“You’ve got your prefect duty tonight, with Thomas,” he finally said.

Draco raised his head and straightened fully before he shut his eyes and gritted his teeth.
“Fuck! How could I forget about that?!” he facepalmed.

“That’s why I thought I should remind you,” he said.

“Couldn’t you just say it instead of making me guess what it was about?” he glared at him.
“I would’ve if the full moon and Thomas were not sore spots to you,” he shrugged. “I didn’t
want to piss you off”

“What? Why would it piss me off?” he gave him an incredulous look. Blaise gave him a
pointed look and Draco groaned. “Okay fair. I’ve been a bit touchy lately but–“

“Touchy?” Blaise chuckled. “Mate, you almost got into a fistfight with Weasley the other day
because he was using the book you wanted,” he reminded him. “And you can’t even fight,”
he arched an eyebrow.

“It was just the usual,” he brushed off. “Weasley pissed me off so I reacted in consequence.
Nothing new”

“Everyone piss you off these days,” he gave him a pointed look.

“No. Not everyone,” he denied as his thoughts went to León.

“Okay, and what about Theo? The screaming match the other day in the dorm is printed in
everyone’s mind now,” he laughed.

“What’s your point?” he snapped.

“My point is, you’re more than a little touchy. You look murderous,” he shrugged. “You bite
our head off over silly things and you’re meaner than usually”

Draco pursed his lips together before he looked down his laps.

“I’ve been a bit of a prick, haven’t I?”

“How do you think I gathered the full moon was close?” he arched an eyebrow. “You become
such a dragon whenever it’s that time of the month”

Draco smiled and shook his head.

“People would say I become a wolf but sure, a dragon would do,” he teased

Blaise gave him a conspirational smile before his face turned serious again.

“Are you okay though?”

Draco shrugged. “I’ll be better in a few days. But I should be asking that to you instead,” he
said.

“Me?” he asked confused.

“Well, since we’re here having a genuine conversation…,” he half-shrugged. “You’ve been
acting weird since we came back,” he said, his eyes on him again.

Blaise went suddenly quiet and he didn’t dare to meet his eyes again. He looked away, his
eyes staring at the shelves and his face turned concerned, almost anxious and Draco knew
whatever happened was big.

“Talk to me,” he asked gently, his head cocked as he tried to look at his eyes. “We always
shared what’s on our mind so why should it be different?”

“Draco,” he sighed. “I…”

But he didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know what to say and Draco grew more and more
anxious. It felt like ice fell in his stomach.

“That bad, uh?” he tried to say with a small smile but it didn’t have the effect he expected and
his best friend’s face remained sour and sad.

“Worse,” he snorted humourlessly.

“No matter what’s happening, you know I’m here for you, right?” he checked.

“I do,” he nodded. He hesitated a bit before he looked at Draco and spoke again. “She’s going
to marry him,” he said.

“Him?” he frowned.

“The muggle she met in America,” he explained. “ Well.. Turns out he’s as muggle as me,”
he snorted bitterly.

“Oh, so he’s not a muggle?” he frowned.

Blaise shook his head. “He’s an American pureblood. He was just hiding his magic because
he thought my mother was a muggle. Anyway, that was a bit of a mess and a massive
misunderstanding,” he shrugged.

“Oh,” Draco breathed, his eyebrows knitted. “So he’s a pureblood,” he repeated.

Blaise nodded. “Yep. And they’re getting married,” he swallowed.

“Why does it upset you so much?” he asked. “I mean, it’s not the first she’s marrying,” he
cocked his head as he tried to read his best friend’s face.

Blaise sighed and rested his back against the chair before he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“He’s a pureblood,” he highlighted before he gave him a pointed look. Since Draco still
didn’t understand, Blaise felt forced to explain. Fully explain. He swallowed. “His father and
his grand-father were Grindelwald’s followers. They were supremacist apologists and so he
is,” he explained. “They believe in the preservation of the blood purity and the domination of
wizards over the muggles. They think of the half-bloods as abominations,” he swallowed.

“Oh… They share my father’s opinion, then,” he said. “Does he believe that too?”

“Yes, he does,” he swallowed.

“Oh… But he thought your mother was a muggle?” he frowned. “I don’t understand. That
doesn’t make sense?”

“Be a bit imaginative,” he snorted bitterly. “You know how many purebloods bigots mess
around with muggles and muggle-borns just because they like the feeling of superiority,” he
rolled his head.

“They’re sick. I could never fuck someone who disgusts me,” his nose wrinkled.

“Me and you both,” he cleared his voice. “Do you know what it means, though?” he asked.
“It means he also believes in Vol–…,” he took a deep breath. “They believe in him. And…
Now my mother is marrying him, they… They…”

“They?” he pressed, his eyes blinded with concern. “Your mother agrees with this?”

Blaise nodded. “He convinced her it was the best outcome for all of us and now they– they
want me to take the mark,” he admitted in a breath. “They said they couldn’t take it, they
were in no position to be useful to… Him. But that I was. I am. They think I could be useful
to him and they want me to serve him. Mother said it was my duty as the heir of the family,”
he swallowed.

Draco’s stomach clenched painfully and he tried not to vomit once again. He’d become two
shades paler and a lump formed in his throat.

“They want to make a death eater out of you,” he whispered vulnerably. Blaise nodded and
wiped his eyes furiously.

“I don’t want to do that,” he said firmly. “But she said… She said some– some awful things
she–“ he shook his head before he refocused on Draco. “She said that since I was not going
to produce any heir, it was my duty to at least bring fortune and power to our family and He
is the best way to acquire it,” he released a shaky breath.

Draco looked at him, his eyes filled with tears. He put a comforting hand on Blaise’s wrist.

“You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to do what she said. You’re turning seventeen
soon, aren’t you? She can’t force you after that,” he said.

“But I won’t be seventeen until February. Besides she’s my mother. I can’t just turn my back
on her. You know how much she means to me,” he ducked his head.

“I do,” he swallowed. “But it’s not fair. Surely there’s another option”

“She– she– she used my sexuality against me, to pressure me into doing it. She threatened me
into marriage and she said she would let a girl f– she– she’d let her… Use me if it is what it
takes to have a heir,“ he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes again as he began to cry. His
voice cracked and he struggled to continue but he did. “The heir or the mark, those are my
only options Draco. That’s what she said and I– I– she looked deadly serious. I have no
choice! That’s not– and I– I don’t want to live like this, fuck. I’m too young for this shit,
mate,” he put his head between his hands.
“I am sorry,” he bit his lip as he rubbed his back gently. “You’re right, this isn’t fair. I’m
sorry,” he rambled. He was trying to comfort him but in the background, his brain raced as
fast as his heart as he considered his own situation, creating a parallel with his own life as he
listened to Blaise.

“Had I known two years ago she’d use my sexuality against me, I would’ve never told her,”
he pursed his lips. “I thought I could trust her,” he whispered brokenly, his bottom lips
trembling.

Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him in a tight hug as Blaise’s tears were falling in earnest
now. He struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat but he tried not to breakdown with
him. Blaise’s body was shaking against his as he sobbed in his neck. Draco couldn’t do
anything to ease him but he rubbed his back gently.

He knew too well how he felt. He knew how it felt to be trapped in a situation you couldn’t
live with and he knew how it felt to be betrayed by the very same people who were meant to
protect you as they threw you in the lions’ den.

He knew. Oh, how he knew.

And he wished he could preserve Blaise from knowing it too. He wished he could protect his
best friend like no one could protect him. And for the very first time, he realised he couldn’t
be mad at Sirius and Remus’ inaction to take him out of here because they were trying. They
were trying their very best to find something to get him out of here but the situation was
dangerous, so dangerous and the wrong move could cost his life. Now he was walking in
their shoes, he knew.

And oh, how he wished he didn’t. No one should be in either of their situations. But life was
unfair, Draco learnt that lesson the hard way and they were all facing this together. They were
trying their very best. Now he realised the situation mustn’t be easy for them either. If they
felt the way Draco did, they probably felt very helpless.

And for the first time since he asked for their help, he was grateful he did because now he
was on the receiving end of the news, he knew how he’d do absolutely anything to help
Blaise if only he could. Surely adults had more resources than he did.

He wished they were just silly teenagers rather than pawns in a war no one truly wanted to
fight. He wished they were not collateral damage, casualties on a man’s way to greatness as
the Dark Lord called it. But it wasn’t the reality of their lives and so Draco held his best
friend tighter as Blaise cried against him. His second hand was in his hair as he stroked it
gently. He wished he could whisper reassuring words to him but his voice was tight and he
didn’t trust himself not to sob if he tried to open his mouth.

Besides, the words he’d speak would be all lies because he was acutely aware things would
not get better for either of them.

He left the library only ten minutes later, his mood still completely wrecked and his face
miserable meanwhile Blaise’s tears were barely dry. But he had to go to the shrieking shack
and join Sirius and Remus for the full moon so he couldn’t stay any longer. He’d planned on
talking with Dean and finding a lie to tell so he would escape his prefect duty for the night
but since Blaise was the reason he was late, the latter offered to talk to Dean himself. He
thought it’d be more believable if Blaise told him he was sick rather than he told him himself.

Draco was thankful but he didn’t mind being a bit late to have that conversation himself. In
the end he yielded and he grabbed his stuff before he ran towards the exit. He spent the whole
trip to the shrieking shack processing the conversation they had just had and he finally
allowed himself to acknowledge his own sadness. He felt it overflowing again and he
couldn’t help himself but be thankful that Blaise offered to deal with Dean. He wouldn’t have
had the strength to do it himself.

Fucking full moon, he thought bitterly as his eyes prickled.

Talking about the mark with Blaise reminded him of the fatidic date he was supposed to
receive his own. The 27 th of December…

Tick… Tick… Tick… It was coming soon. Too soon.

Tick… Tick… Tick… There was no way out. He was going to receive it.

Tick… Tick… Tick… It was set for barely a month from now. After Christmas Draco would
be marked.

Tick…. The clock kept ticking and his pace accelerated under the rain. Tick… His feet
hammered the ground in earnest now, his heels splashing the puddles of water on his way.
Tick…. His breathing quickened and he kept running across the land to reach the Whomping
Willow. Tick… His tears escaped his eyes and mixed with the heavy rain pouring outside but
he ran so fast the wind caught them before they rolled down his cheeks and took them away.

Tick… Tick… Tick…

The full moon was coming and there was no coming back. No matter how much he wished
time would freeze it couldn’t. It wouldn’t. And he had no choice but to run forward. There
was no other road to follow but the one traced for him.

The dream he had had over the summer came back to his mind full force and it was like he
couldn’t see the wet grass anymore nor the mud beneath his feet. Instead, his eyes caught
sight of the cut bridges and destroyed road. Ahead of him, there was the only followable road
and the corpses along the way as he ran faster. Rain turned into blood – at least, it tasted as
such on his lips – and he began to wonder if he was still awake.

It looked like an extremely believable nightmare.

His heart was pounding and he was unable to make it stop. It was beating in his throat and he
was terrified and at the same time he needed it to beat harder until he’d be able to spit it out
so everything would finally end. His body was shaking violently with exhaustion and efforts
but Draco kept running. No matter how hard it was, he kept running because he needed an
escape. A way out.
Tick… Tick… Tick…

But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t outrun time and the responsibilities falling onto
him, weighting on his shoulders. In his head, he heard his father’s voice and between the
trees of the forbidden forest edging the land, Draco caught a glimpse of two cold eyes he
identified as Greyback’s and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He neither didn’t want to live that kind of life. Blaise was right. He had dreams for himself
and he had a life to live except it didn’t feel like that’s what he was doing anymore. He
wasn’t living for himself – hadn’t in forever, perhaps had he even never really lived for
himself – and he felt completely annihilated, as though the person he was disappeared in the
shadow of the person he was asked to be.

Tick… He felt trapped in his life.

Tick… In this shitty situation his father put him in.

Tick… in a world he didn’t understand.

And the whole sensation of being trapped suddenly sank in until Draco felt trapped in his
own body as well. He recognised the signs as he pressed his palm against the centre of the
trunk after he swiftly dodged the branches. A panic attack was about to break out full force
and he didn’t have any way to calm down. For one, he didn’t have the time to slow down and
he also didn’t know how to prevent it from ruining him. It was bound to happen what with
everything he’d endured the past few weeks.

His heart was hammering in his ribs, his breath was short – too short – and he was
hyperventilating. His hair stuck to his forehead and he he could taste blood in his mouth
when he swallowed. He didn’t even know how he stood on his feet when his legs felt like
they’d been hit with a jelly-legs jinx. But he did.

He did!

His tears were flowing on his cheeks like a river pushed by the wind of a stormy night and he
slid in the passage, out of breath, gasping for air and crying. And he didn’t even care
anymore because he was going to receive a death sentence in a month, an ugly dark mark
bruising his skin and ripping his innocence from him. A mark which would sentence him to a
life of misery. Loneliness and self-loathing was all that waited for him.

The day he’d receive that mark would be the day his life end.

He knew it.

He knew it was what it meant. Even if the Dark Lord won that war – which he hoped he
would not at the bottom of his heart – no one would trust a man marked with his mark. Even
if the Dark Lord won, the world wouldn’t suddenly become his. People would fight, people
would rebel, always fighting against the insurrection of a man undeserving and full of hatred
and Draco would never be accepted among those who’d resist him because he’d belong to the
other side.
He’d be trapped.

He landed with a thunk on the wooden floor, causing the dust to go up as he did, creating a
cloud of dust around him in the shack. It stung his eyes and he coughed but he couldn’t even
do that properly because he was still gasping and crying and he felt utterly miserable. The
dust dirtied his face – especially his cheeks and cheekbones. He remained on the floor longer
than he should have, his arms circled his body as he cried loudly.

“Draco? Is that you? I heard a–“ Remus said as he came downstairs, Sirius behind him. He
gasped when he saw Draco on the floor, tears straining his cheeks.

Draco stood up and threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around him as he kept crying.
He was terrified, more so than ever as things became more and more concrete in his head and
in reality as well.

Remus closed his arms around him and held him as he sobbed ugly against him. His red-
rimmed eyes were still leaking and so did his nose even though he’d been crying for almost
fifteen minutes straight. His head was pounding again and he felt like throwing up. He
wanted to die. Realistically, he knew his emotions were exacerbated by the full moon but it
was still too much to feel.

Remus lowered himself to the floor and Draco followed as his legs almost ceded under his
weight. He was exhausted. He was so exhausted! – of everything – and everything hurt and
everything felt too much. It felt like a nightmare but it wasn’t. It was his life. It was his life!
How crazy was that?

Draco kept crying for a little longer, his voice raw and broken, his fist clenched around
Remus as he did at the ministry that day. His sobs were wrecking his throat and he always
choked on his spit when he swallowed. Sirius rubbed his back the same way he did for Blaise
earlier and no one talked.

When he finally gathered himself, he remained on the floor, too tired to move and Remus
allowed him as he rested his head against his shoulder like a kid. Because that’s what he was
still, wasn’t he? A kid. He was too young to go through so much. Blaise had been right about
that too.

A dreadful thought bloomed in his head. Was it how Potter’s life been ever since his first
year? If it was, Draco couldn’t help but being submerged by an overwhelming wave of
respect for the other boy. Draco couldn’t even deal with it for a few months so a few years? It
must have been awful.

When he pulled away, his eyes were sad and his lips formed a small pout as he tried not to
cry again. Remus dried his tears with his sleeve and he pushed a strand of his hair falling in
his eyes. It was growing so long these days, now it curled around his earlobes. It was a length
Draco never had worn before. Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance, communicating silently
as their eyes met.

“Something happened or is it just… You know? The full moon?” Sirius asked carefully.
 Draco shook his head and swallowed hard. Tentatively, silver met silver and he opened his
mouth.

“I received a letter,” he began, his voice hoarse. “I’ll receive the mark after Christmas,” he
admitted quietly before another sob escaped him and he began to cry again. “And that stupid
full moon makes everything so hard to deal with and I– I–… Fuck I can’t live like that. I
don’t want to take the mark,” he cried again.

There was a silence during which no one spoke as the two men processed the information he
gave them. Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed and Draco already saw the way he began to think hard,
his eyes darting from a spot to another as he looked at the ground. Remus, on his part, had
pursed his lips and his eyes went unfocused as he rattled his brain too.

Draco genuinely didn’t think anybody could help him but seeing how hard they were trying
made him feel a bit better with himself already, knowing someone cared for him.

Chapter End Notes

I thought I'd let you know the first part of the fic is going to be 80 chapters long. That is

😋
an approximation with what I have already written so it might change through the
months but for now it's what I have planned

You can join me on TUMBLR if you wish: @LunardeAO3

I'll see you again on Thursday. As always, be kind to yourself until then 🦋
 Rollercoaster
Chapter Notes

TW internalised homophobia
TW Self-inflicted pain
CW Mild Sexual Content

Friday 29th of November 1996.

The room of requirement was an exquisite escape to Draco’s dreary life but at the same time,
it was a prison, one which reminded him of the task he still had yet to complete. He was
stuck in this weird in-between. How could a place be both a comfort place and one which
smothered him each time he walked in? He genuinely didn’t know.

Ever since he came back from the full moon he spent with Sirius and Remus, Draco came
here. He’d slept three days straight after the full moon and according to Remus, it had been a
true blessing because his body was badly injured, the scars he had on his legs were proving it.

It turned out the exhaustion he felt was not just his but the wolf as well and despite the
wolfsbane potion, it’d been hard – almost impossible – to keep it under control. It was like
he’d been fighting against himself a losing battle all along and eventually the wolf took over
and he passed out.

It didn’t happen because the potion failed to work, it happened because he was too exhausted
to stay awake, he’d completely run out of energy. It was a bit violent after that from what
Sirius and Remus explained. He didn’t attack them at all but he did hurt himself quite badly
out of frustration.

But sleeping three days didn’t help, not as much as Draco wished it did.

He was still exhausted and he was restless as well because of the overwhelming anxiety
creeping in every time he thought about all the time he wasted sleeping instead of working on
the task. Today though, he wasn’t working on it like he usually did. No, today he decided to
come here for his own pleasure because he was going crazy and he needed a distraction. He
needed something to release the pressure a bit and so he decided to come and play the cello,
using the room and its magic for something he thought was good for him.

He was sitting on a chair, just like he did back home, his cello tucked between his thighs as
his hands moved, inducing a beautiful melody. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows were
furrowed softly as he let himself carried away by the music he played. He felt it to his core
and it was the best sensation ever. However, it felt a bit like he was underwater, he couldn’t
distinctly hear the notes he played, he just knew deep down it was beautiful and it truly did
wonders on his mood and his anxiety.

Unfortunately, as soon as he felt someone coming in, his hands produced an awful sound
before they froze and the bubble he’d hidden within popped. He watched as León came in
sight, his long white hair tied in a half pony tail, the rest of it falling down to the small of his
back and his hips. He looked gorgeous as per usual and Draco was slowly getting used to the
way his heart missed a beat every time he came nearby.

“I knew I’d find you there,” he smiled softly. “Can I?” he asked. Draco nodded and so León
took another chair and sat with him. “You play?”

“I was before you arrived,” he nodded.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said sheepishly. “Can I hear?”

“Sure,” he said as he closed his eyes and let his hands moving again, accompanying the
music with every moves.

He played a composition and then another, León never interrupting him again as he took
great pleasure in what he was listening to. Draco couldn’t see him but he felt him shifting
closer to him and he felt his stomach fluttering when their arms brushed together. When he
opened his eyes again and the music faded slowly in the echo of the room, Draco’s eyes met
León’s and they smiled at each other.

“What did you play?” he asked.

“One of mine, actually,” he admitted.

“You wrote that?” he asked in awe.

“Yeah,” he smiled and ducked his head.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed and Draco lifted his head to look at him in the eyes again. León’s
eye was a bright purple tonight and Draco still didn’t know what it meant but damn he loved
it.

“Thanks,” he whispered in returned, never unlocking their gazes. He cleared his voice and
looked away reluctantly as he ducked his head again to look at his cello. “I’m still working
on it,” he explained.

“I hope you’ll let me hear it when you’re done,” he smiled and Draco’s involuntarily felt his
own lips curling up as well.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded as he looked at him again.

“Cool,” he smiled.

They remained here in silence for a while before León tentatively moved his hand, slowly
reaching for Draco’s pinky finger. Draco looked as their fingers laced and he looked up to
meet his eyes again, a smile on his lips.

“That’s nice,” he couldn’t help himself but say.

León chuckled breathlessly. “Yes, I agree”

“We do that often,” he continued, not even knowing why.

“Do you mind?” León asked, genuinely curious. Draco couldn’t find his voice so he shook
his head slowly. “Me neither. I like it,” he said.

“I do too,” he replied eventually, his voice quiet and his heart hammering in his chest. For
some reasons, he felt like it was important and he felt his hands getting a bit moist with
anticipation for whatever was going on.

“Good. I don’t want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable,” he said
sincerely.

Draco smiled and ducked his head again, at the same time León reached out again, his fingers
caressing his face softly as he pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his
ear. Draco looked at him and swallowed. His breath hitched a bit when León didn’t pulled
away, instead he dragged his fingers down his face again and he caressed the side of his
cheek until he put his finger under his chin and tilted his head a bit, locking their eyes again.

“Is that okay?” he asked softly, leaning on ever so slightly.

Draco blinked a bit and his stomach did a weird thing as he realised what was about to
happen. Did he want to? Of course he did, but was he ready for it? He didn’t know. He didn’t
know and he would never know if he never dared to try. He wanted to experience it,
something real and raw, beautiful and awaited for a while now. He nodded slowly and
swallowed again but his throat was dry.

“Yes,” he whispered.

And he watched as León leaned on slowly, slow enough at least to give him a way out if he
wanted it. Draco didn’t. His eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled softly when their nose
bumped together. León didn’t press their lips immediately, he stayed still, allowing Draco to
close the space if he wanted to. Draco inhaled softly and he pressed his lips against his, a shy
tentative at first. As soon as their lips met, Draco felt his stomach do a backflip and it felt
nothing like it did when he kissed Blaise, or Willow or anyone for the matter. It felt like his
body was crossed by electricity and he put a hand on León’s arm as he tried to ground
himself.

León moved his lips gently against his, the kiss remained closed-mouth and gentle as they
discovered each other in a new way. León came closer and his other hand fell on his waist
which he caressed with his thumb and Draco parted his lips to capture León’s between his.

It was incredible, really. It felt as though his body was coming to life all of a sudden. It was
burning from within and exploding in sensations, his stomach felt a bit of a mess as well and