To Light Your Life
"It all worked out in the end," Blaise tends to say. Whatever happens, he can say it. They're his lucky charm, those seven little words. Maybe they mean nothing because Blaise uses them so carelessly.
Or maybe they mean the world.
The war hadn't been kind to Draco.
He had fallen in between two very distinct worlds after the war. He had no place to be, but he was still there. He existed, if nothing more, on the edge of the grey area. He was locked there – not forgotten, not forgiven, but swept away.
His father, who had chosen the dark side in his youth, would now rot in a cell in Azkaban for his crimes against the Wizarding World. That was something Draco could handle. He had been mentally preparing himself for that since the moment Harry revealed himself to be alive. He had expected he would face the same fate as his father; a sentence in Azkaban with all the other Death Eaters.
But what he hadn't added into the equation of unfortunate events was Narcissa Malfoy. His mother, who became a celebrated war hero and the woman who after playing a crucial role in the downfall of the Dark Lord, had been welcomed back to the light side with open arms. That was something Draco hadn't seen coming.
It had thrown everything off balance.
Draco was lost, barely able to concentrate on his own trial. He would have preferred being one of the casualties. The first months after the war went by in a blur and he was alone, so alone with the dark thoughts in his head, he preferred lying in his bed for days. Just lying there, but not sleeping. He hated the idea of closing his eyes and seeing the war flashing in front of his eyes. Sometimes he was sure he felt Voldemort watching him.
Narcissa's attempts to help were in vain, no matter how hard she tried, and so Draco remained lost in his own, private darkness.
The seventh anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts is approaching with its yearly festivities but not everyone is excited.
Draco tosses and turns in his bed, linen sheets tangling with his limbs and gluing onto his skin. He wakes up with a jolt, visibly shaken as his eyes dart around the darkened room. The silence is deafening. He clumsily swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He exhales as he hunches forward, pressing his elbows against his legs. He runs a shaky hand through his hair before hiding his face behind his palms as a way to try composing himself. The floor is cold against his feet. It is a comforting sensation but not nearly enough calm his nerves. He wipes away the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
Night terrors are nothing new to him as they happen more often than he wants to admit but that doesn't mean he enjoys having them. They make him feel weak and helpless. The aftermath, waking up from a nightmare, is always proving itself a capable of paralyzing him.
He flicks his fringe from his eyes, sighing deeply. His hair has grown longer during the past year and the fine platinum colour has dulled over the time. He knows he needs to shave as well. He just doesn't feel like it. He doesn't feel like attending the annual ball with his mother, either, even though he has already declined her invitation four years in a row. She always asks him anyway.
Draco feels bad for not going with her, he really does, but the thought of socializing with people seems so foreign to him. Draco doesn't notice he's chewing the tip of his thumb – a newly acquired nervous habit of his – until the bitter taste wakes up his taste buds. He groans, wiping the small trickle of blood away.
"Draco."
They were meant to be equals, united by the blood they shared – the purest there were among the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and beyond – and by the beliefs they were ready to stand behind, and yet Draco flinches when he is touched.
Draco shifts in discomfort. "Blaise." Draco's voice is calm but barely loud enough to be heard and he looks at Blaise over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to wake you up again." His chest clenches, his dream plaguing his mind.
You have no idea how easy it is to fall back into the darkness.
Blaise sits upright and shrugs, as if saying he doesn't really mind. His eyes rove over Draco's face, looking for any sort of confirmation of Draco's thoughts. His friend – Draco still insists they call themselves just friends – has always been like that. Too proud to admit he needs help, even when his face shows all the signs of distress.
And it's that pride that makes Draco turn away from Blaise. He can handle his nightmares, he knows he can. He had been just fine even before Blaise returned to his life after a few years' absence after the war, with his fancy decree and expensive suit. He had even felt some sort of smug satisfaction when he had for the first time turned Blaise away from his doorstep.
"Look at me." Blaise doesn't beg. He never does, he's too proud for that. He's as commanding as Draco is stubborn. One of them has to yield, and Blaise is pleased that this time it's Draco. Blaise opens his arms. "It's alright. Come here."
Draco huffs but scoots closer to Blaise and returns under the covers. Blaise leans on the headboard and Draco instead leans on him, trying to find a comfortable position. Blaise smiles faintly. His arm finds its way around Draco's shoulders and he slowly starts running his fingers through Draco's hair.
"I had a nightmare," Draco admits quietly after several minutes. Blaise just hums, encouraging Draco to continue. "It was– I was–" Draco trails off, shaking his head. "I don't really want to talk about it, Blaise."
"I understand," Blaise says shortly. "Just tell me when you're ready and I will listen."
Draco nods. He allows himself to relax a as Blaise presses a kiss on his forehead.
In a way, even after almost four years they are still taking baby steps but the progress exceeds their minor drawbacks. Narcissa is satisfied with their pace. Draco doesn't talk to her about his dreams, nor does he like to show his weaknesses to her. Narcissa is alright with that, has been a while. She can't point exact moment when Blaise started pulling Draco from the darkness but she remembers the first time Draco smiled in a long, long time.
"But at what cost?" Draco has taken into a habit of saying. He murmurs, his eyes half-lidded and already closing. The sentence doesn't really fit into his vocabulary.
Blaise isn't sure if Draco is talking about his continuous nightmares, or the ruined marriage of his parents, or all the people who lost their lives during the war. But whatever it is, Blaise will be there to listen whenever Draco feels like talking.
QLFC Season 3 Final – A Sign of Respect – Pride of Portree vs. Montrose Magpies
CHASER 3: Write about your opposing Chaser 3's favourite pairing or character. Draco/Blaise.
OPTIONAL PROMPTS
5. (quote) "You have no idea how easy it is to fall back into the darkness" - Hook, Once Upon A Time
8. (dialogue) "It all worked out in the end."
11. (emotion) pride
Special thanks to Jordi for betaing, to my brother for fixing my computer on time after it broke down, and to our whole team for making it this far! This season has been a blast. We're awesome!