Amorphous
By: shadowclub/fakeid
Summary: Draco owes Harry a life debt. Fate takes matters a different direction.
Warnings: Male pregnancy, nothing too descriptive! Certain trigger scenes for suicide.
Notes: Slight break in my usual style. A little more dark, but still ghetto (I abuse this word)! Written for taradiane for the hdinspired themed exchange.
December 25…Midnight
The snow falls on his face.
Draco stands at the window of the North Tower, the highest point of the manor. His perfectly polished shoes are dull in the grey-blue light of the evening.
"Failure," the ghost of Great-great Aunt Mildred whispers. What had she known about honor? Her own son killed her because she nagged him so much. Draco ignores it and she glides away. The spectral figure of Dumbledore is telling him something, but he can't hear it, the roaring of the wind is too loud.
Male pregnancy can be caused by a two factors (1) Life debt (2) Inter-dimensional intercourse between two bonded partners. In cases where the husband has incurred a life debt from his wife, the debt can be repaid if the husband chooses (or the wife requests) to carry the child instead of the wife, thus repaying his debt to her. In rare instances of multiple life debts the husband may find himself pregnant as an automatic repayment due to the possibility of soul ownership. The soul may protect itself by compelling the body to carry the child often overcoming natural barriers such as barrenness. Wizarding children are partially conceived in magical spheres (most often located in the uterus) that can travel. Inter-dimensional intercourse has not been possible for the last 2000 years due to the closing of the galaxy cap. There are so few references to this in ancient writings that many scholars doubt it was even possible to begin with...
And so Draco falls. His eyes are tightly shut or he would have seen a ghostly white owl swoop by. He would have seen the line of trees surrounding the impressive manor. He would have seen the solid ground growing ever closer.
A hundred metres to the ground he flips over and his robes float around him like liquid death, oddly protective of the fragile body they encase.
And everything goes black.
December 26…
Draco opened his eyes and found himself staring at his father's face.
After a moment Draco realised that somehow his plan had failed and that he would have to answer to his parents now.
Draco watched Lucius's face for a moment.
Silence. The prestige of the Malfoy line lay in their ability to use speech and magic productively. All Malfoy men had some training as a solicitor. It was the source of their money. It was what defined them.
Then there was silence. It was the ultimate punishment.
"The diagnostic spells showed—," Lucius began in a low voice.
"I don't want it," Draco said, his voice a jagged cut through Lucius's sentence.
"Draco!" His mother's voice rang in his ears as she threw herself on top of him. Draco gasped at the sudden pain. "Don't you ever do that to me again! What were you thinking?" She sobbed into his shoulder.
Lucius swiftly reached down, his hands curling slowly over her thin shoulder. "Don't damage him further." She nodded, wiping her eyes and pulling back.
"What happened?" Lucius asked, his tone did not leave room for evasions or even silence. Draco closed his eyes. Perhaps Lucius would think he was asleep and leave him.
"It was not a request."
"I don't know! If I knew I would have thought of some way to reverse it!"
"Did you really think jumping off the North Tower was the answer?" Lucius asked.
Draco reached into his bedside table drawer and pulled out a dog-eared book. "It is more than that…" Draco said, opening to the page on male pregnancies. Lucius took the book from him.
Lucius's eyes quickly flew across the page.
"Are you sure?" Lucius asked. Draco nodded.
"Who might the mother be?" Lucius asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"How the hell would I know?" Draco muttered.
Narcissa pulled out her wand. "I only know a paternity charm, but it might work on you in this case."
Draco shook his head. "No. It's nothing. I don't want to know! I need to make it go away!" he finished, desperately.
"You will do nothing of the sort! At least not until we find out more about why this happened. I know something about enslavement of the soul. I cannot afford to lose…There are other ways to solve this problem, but we first need to know whom you owe this debt to. Perhaps they will accept another method of payment," Lucius said, fingering his wand. "Do it, Narcissa."
Draco twisted away from her wand, managing to sit up despite the stabbing pain in his back.
Lucius pushed him back down onto the bed with one strong arm on his shoulder. "It's not going to hurt!" A timid blue light appeared in front of him with a series of numbers and runes sliding around a spherical ball of light.
"Look! Now you've gone and made it real! Just-just-go!" Draco yelled.
"The only reason you are not dead is that some sort of ward protected you, and as far as I can tell it's not one of ours. This person is keeping you alive! For once in your life accept help without whining!" Lucius said.
If they would just leave him alone this would be over with.
"You knew it was real or else you wouldn't have jumped out of the North Tower. Delusions are not fitting of a man of your standing." Lucius said, as he took out a piece of parchment and quill from Draco's desk.
"Do you have access to the registry?" Narcissa asked Lucius after a moment. Lucius nodded.
"I will be able to match the signature up tomorrow if all goes well."
Draco buried his face into the pillow. It didn't matter what the test results said. Draco knew that there was no mother. Only another father…
"Don't bother, it's Potter's."
…
December 27…
When Draco woke up the next morning there was a familiar face staring down at him.
"Mrwah!" he yelped.
"No need to yell, I was just checking to make sure you were alive," Blaise said cheerfully.
"What are you doing here?" Draco rasped, clutching at his chest.
Blaise rolled his eyes and looked at the artfully arranged truffles. He picked one up and placed it on his tongue.
"Don't tell me your nasty fall down the stairs has knocked what few brain cells you have out of your head?"
Draco shook his head, and then reached out for the chocolates.
"My mother—?"
Narcissa swept into the room. "Draco! I'm glad you're awake. I was getting worried."
"Yes, and Blaise is here!" Draco said, with a forced tone of cheeriness.
"Yes, you must have forgotten to mention his visit after your accident yesterday," Narcissa said, setting down a tray of pastries. Draco's mouth watered at the sight. He took one and just as he was about to bite into the flakey goodness, a putrid smell reached his nose.
"This smells atrocious! Did the house-elves put manure in it?" Draco asked, setting it back down on the tray.
"They smell fine to me," Blaise said, picking up a pastry. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Anytime dear," she said, smiling fondly at both of them before leaving.
Blaise stared at him for a moment.
"You aren't showing at all."
"My mother put a heavy glamour on my body and robes."
"Are you going to keep it?"
"I was scared before. My child shouldn't have to worry about its parent trying to kill it. I thought about it last night… denial doesn't erase things."
There was silence again.
"Your accident yesterday…was it really an accident?" Blaise asked, finally. Draco glanced past him to the window.
"I just… How did this happen? I don't even know where I went wrong."
"Probably at the very beginning."
"And when was that?"
"When you went back to Hogwarts."
September 29…
Draco flipped his pillow trying to find a cooler spot on which to place his head. The heat was like a hood over everything. Hogwarts, it seemed, was plotting against him. A rush of warm air washed over him though it must have been over forty degrees centigrade in the room already, surely.
Hogwarts. Things worked so circularly. He never thought he would have ended up here again, but when McGonagall had showed up at the door, it was hard to say no.
"Blaise, I'm telling you, it's trying to kill me!" he yelled through the curtains. If he was awake then he might as well wake up Blaise who was most amusing in a half-awake stupor.
"Shut up and go to sleep! The bloody castle isn't plotting against you!" Blaise shouted across the room.
"But—"
"We are not going through this again! First day of class is tomorrow and I need to sleep!"
Draco crawled out of bed and slunk down to the common room. After the Battle of Hogwarts, all returning and new students were placed into houses based on their year in school. This was to promote unity. The only choice they had was to pick their roommate. Blaise was the only other former Slytherin who wasn't dead or hadn't been sent abroad.
The downside was that he had to deal with people like—
"Granger," he said. She turned around from her chair near the empty fireplace.
"Draco," she replied, casually. Looking around, Draco felt a shock run through him at the sound of his first name rolling out of her mouth. "How are you doing?" she asked, a bit stiffly.
"Fine."
What classes are you taking this year?" Granger asked.
"Just all the basic ones and Advanced Defense," Draco replied.
She nodded. "I'm taking that and Advanced Healing as well."
A silence fell between them.
"The weather has been lovely lately," Draco said, lamely. The awkwardness of having a conversation with someone he had previously been trying to kill was taking a toll on his conversational skills.
"Yes, it has been."
Just then, Weasley came down the stairs. Draco should have known she wasn't just sitting there. Up to their usual nonsense, he supposed. People rarely changed, but this was ridiculous.
"Sneaking out after hours, Granger? How terribly juvenile," Draco said.
"For your information, Ron and I need to make rounds to ensure the safety of our fellow students. I wouldn't be so quick to judge the actions of others if I were you," Granger said in a neutral tone.
Draco stared at the portrait hole long after they had gone. They had changed and he hadn't even noticed this growth. Two years ago he would have bit out some insult toward Granger and Weasley would have probably punched him.
Draco looked at his reflection in the window and saw nothing more than a scared little boy trapped behind his eyes.
…
October 1… second day of class
The whispers and stares were like tiny fire ants crawling up his neck.
"…Death Eater. Managed to get off on some crazy insanity plea." Draco tried to ignore it, but after listening to Smith's insane prattle for ten minutes he was ready to snap.
"Smith, how's your mum doing? Still in Azkaban for murdering three Muggles?" Draco asked, turning around with a cold smile.
"No," he said, in a low voice. "Unlike you she was actually under a spell!"
"I have never killed anyone, so don't act like I'm some sort of murderer."
"You may as well been, people died because of your actions." Smith was seething now. Draco opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. There was nothing left to say, it was the truth.
…
October 5…
He didn't see Potter until a week into classes. It appeared that Potter had been given his own room, which was all the same to Draco. The less he saw of Potter, the better.
"Draco!" Blaise shouted at him right before he ran straight into the wall as he contemplated the brief glimpse of Potter, instead of watching where he was going. Intense pain radiated from his right knee, and he jumped around a bit trying to shake it out, but somehow managed to run straight into Potter.
"Ughna!" he gasped out, grabbing Potter's shoulder. Potter instinctively put his arms around Draco's waist steadying him.
"Are you okay?" Potter asked. Draco looked up. When the hell did Potter get taller than him?
"Yeah," Draco muttered, dusting his robes off. Potter nodded at him and continued down the hall. Blaise handed him his bag, which he'd dropped in the process. Blaise look worried all of a sudden.
"What's wrong?"
"Self-righteous Hufflepuffs at two o'clock," he whispered. Draco swiveled around and found himself face to face with Zacharias Smith.
"Death Eater scum," Smith spat, spraying Blaise and Draco with flecks of spittle.
"You must have been standing there for at least five minutes, is that the best you can come up with?" Draco asked, forcing a smirk on his face.
Zacharias smirked back and pulled out his wand, but instead of aiming it at Draco, he aimed it at Blaise.
"Cruc—," he started.
Draco lunged forward and knocked the wand out of Smith's hand. The next thing he knew he was pulling out his own wand, his mouth forming the words to a particularly nasty hex, when—
"Boys! That's enough!" Professor McGonagall's voice could be heard over the roaring in his ears. How dare they, how dare they presume to understand his choices? Blaise was sitting white-faced on the floor. He took one look at Professor McGonagall, stood and ran for it.
"Zabini!" she called after him.
"Leave him," Draco whispered. "It was my fault."
"I will not tolerate this behavior in the halls. Smith in my office in half an hour!" She turned and announced loudly to the hall, "If any harm befalls any of the students under the protection of the school, the perpetrators will be severely punished!"
"Stay alert, Mr. Malfoy," she whispered to him before limping down the hall. People surged forward at the sound of her retreating. The show was over.
Draco turned around and went in the direction Blaise had run. Where was he? Knowing Blaise, he was probably in the greenhouse.
The large glass panes of the greenhouse reflected the sunlight into his eyes, blinding him temporarily. As a result he heard Blaise before he saw him.
"…well if you pot this into the enriched soil, by next month it should turn out fine," Blaise was saying. His accent was slightly more pronounced than normal and his posture was that of loose confidence. This could only mean one thing.
Girl.
"Ahh, thanks Zabini. You don't have to stay here with me. I'm capable." The voice was familiar, but Draco couldn't place it.
"I have no doubt about that, I am just here to observe," Blaise replied.
Well, it was obvious that Blaise had recovered from his trauma quite quickly. Draco peered through the glass trying to get a better look at what was going on.
"Malfoy! You got lucky back there," Smith called from behind him. Smith had found him; it was clear that McGonagall's warning wasn't enough to dissuade him. The majority of the people here had no desire to reconcile or even hear his side of the story. The world was painted black and white to them, a stark contrast to the grey sky.
Smith immediately summoned Draco's wand before he remembered to get a firm grip on it.
"Luck favors the prepared," Draco said making no motion to run. What was the point? It was actually better this way. Smith was too much of an idiot to actually torture him before he died.
Draco stared at the tip of Smith's wand and felt no fear. Smith's face twisted into a smirk, oddly reminiscent of his own a few years ago. It was like looking into a mirror only to find that the reflection had changed so dramatically.
"Do it," he whispered. "You'll mean it this time. I know your sister was killed by Death Eaters. I was there, I did it," he taunted.
Smith's face twisted so much that Draco was afraid it was going to break.
Draco watched as he pronounced the words before he felt a body slam into his.
"What th—Potter?" Draco exclaimed, incredulous.
"Christ, Malfoy, if I had a Galleon for every time a Gryffindor saved your life."
Draco brushed off his robe.
"Smith!" Potter said, grabbing the back of his shirt. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I think there's been enough death and torture, don't you. Stay the fuck away from Malfoy, he hasn't done anything to you!"
Smith nodded. Potter released his grip on Smith's shirt. Potter was taller now, still lean and wiry, but taller and older looking. The second Potter released him, Smith ran.
"You didn't have to do that. I had the situation under control."
"Could you really let that happen to someone?" Potter asked, pulling out his wand.
"What are you doing?"
"Not killing you, that's for sure. You have a cut, I'm just healing it," Potter said as he pointed his wand at Draco's cheek and whispered the spell. A soft whirl of breath and his skin was healed. Draco blushed at the intimate feeling of Potter's magic on his skin.
Pathetic.
"You didn't need to do that."
Potter laughed bitterly.
"I don't like watching people bleed."
"Not even your worst enemy?"
"You were never my enemy, Malfoy, my rival for awhile, yes," Harry said. Draco didn't know whether he should be offended or complimented.
"I don't need your help," Draco said.
"Malfoy, drop the act. Ron and I saved your life multiple times. Your mum saved mine. If there is one thing I learned in the past year it's that having people help you isn't necessarily a bad thing. "
Draco pondered this for a moment. In Slytherin house "I'll help you" was equivalent to "You owe me".
Debt.
He owed Potter now. Merlin, this was bad. He owed Potter multiple debts to top it off, but Potter also owed his family.
"I guess I do owe you. Thank you," Draco said, forcing the words out of his mouth.
"I don't want you to owe me, I just was making a point," Potter said.
"Well save your 'points' for someone who cares," Draco said, walking away. He was being rude and he didn't care.
…
October 5…night
That night Blaise crawled into his bed.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked as Blaise pulled the blankets back.
"Scoot over," Blaise said, prodding his side.
Blaise wrapped himself around Draco. Draco lay stiffly on his back unwilling to participate in the hug.
"You're cold," Blaise said after a moment.
"I just got into bed; I haven't had time to warm up," Draco said, turning onto his stomach. As Blaise started massaging his back, Draco felt the stress of the past few weeks melt away under his hands. He had forgotten how tactile Blaise was.
"I don't want to be here anymore."
"You knew it wouldn't be easy."
"It's everywhere! Wherever I look, I see myself doing—I see it. I see my failure everywhere," Draco burst out. "People won't look at me! I actually saw someone throw their quill away after I used it. They look at me and see me as something less than human!"
The loneliness was killing him.
Blaise didn't say anything. Instead he moved his hands further down Draco's back. Draco finally gave in and, closing his eyes, he allowed himself to enjoy the touch.
"I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could do this alone."
…
October 19…
The library was a wonderful place if you were looking to avoid someone. The ample twists, eves and hidden bookcases made it possible to work and hide from everyone. He wanted nothing more than to be alone.
"—stop it! Anyone could see!" someone giggled. The only downside to working at the library and not in the dorms was that he occasionally ran into couples here. Bloody couple and their bloody insufferable giggling Draco thought.
Draco quickly hexed a set of matching cold sores onto the girl's lips. She deserved it. Irrationally, Draco missed Pansy, although the last time he had seen her, she had tried to kill him. It wasn't so much her as the act of being intimate with someone. Draco shook off the emotion as he walked toward the far end of the library, away from the entrance and popular study area.
He settled down at a cozy table in the corner of the library. He was taking out his books when Granger came and sat down across from him.
"There are plenty of tables empty; perhaps you would like to choose one of those," Draco said.
"No, I have a question for you. You worked with the cursed necklace, right? Well, for my project this year I want to find a way to undo the curse on the necklace. I want you to help." She pulled her quill out of her bag with a flourish and tucked it into her hair. Miraculously her hair stayed put.
"Was that a request or a demand?" he asked. "And why me? I don't understand this sudden interest in my well-being."
"Didn't you listen to the speech at the beginning of the year?"
He shook his head, no. Well, he had, but it had been a superficial listening.
"We are supposed to stop trying to put ourselves on pedestals and think about progress rather than who was right and who was wrong. Think about it. It'll be a good way to give back, don't you think?"
"I'll think about it." He knew as well as she did that he would say yes.
October 25…
Sometimes when the social climate was too chilly to even consider walking down the halls, Draco would lie on a bench in the greenhouse and read. Blaise often walked down with him because of the research he was doing for Sprout this year.
Well that and—
"Ginny! I didn't expect to see you here today. How is your Rukus plant coming?" Blaise said.
"It's fine."
"What's wrong?"
"There is nothing wrong."
"So your beautiful eyes are bloodshot because—?"
And so their conversation continued. Draco continued toward the back of the greenhouse where the bench was located only to find it occupied.
"Potter!"
"Malfoy!" He looked a little guilty, but recovered quickly. It was obvious that he had mastered the art of acting inconspicuously.
"It's a lovely day for a walk, is it not?" Draco asked, innocently.
"Yes, yes, lovely weather we are having," Potter responded, and turned to look outside. It was pouring rain.
"You tricked me!" he started. Draco smirked.
"First rule of acting inconspicuous: know what's going on around you."
"Coming from you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Why are you in the greenhouse? I thought your project was in Defence."
Then Ginny, as Draco had come to call her, came into view. Suddenly Potter's presence made sense.
"I thought you two were dating," Draco said, breaking the silence as they watched Blaise and Ginny working. They watched Blaise touch her shoulder and then her hair.
"I don't see how it's any of your business," Harry said.
Ginny picked up a pot of soil just as Blaise reached around her waist and picked her up, swinging her through the air as though she were a toddler. Potter's expression twisted and the pot she was holding shattered, soil flew everywhere. Blaise set her down gently.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked, helping her dust the soil off her.
"I guess I was gripping the pot too tightly," she replied. Draco watched as Potter clenched his fist. The tables behind Blaise and Ginny began to rattle ominously.
"Calm down!" Draco said to Harry. He was suddenly feeling very faint. The world around him whirled a blur of wine red; he saw Dumbledore's face frowning at him.
"Malfoy!" The voice called from miles away, but he was too far to stop it. Suddenly the ocean roar was back. He was vaguely aware that Blaise and Ginny ran over at the sound of Potter's voice.
Blaise was desperately trying to check Draco's pulse, but was only succeeding in slamming his wrist against the floor. He tried to tell them he was fine, but they wouldn't listen. Instead he was levitated out of the greenhouse and through the castle to his room.
Draco struggled against the fog, everything slid back into focus.
"I'm fine," he managed to gasp out. Potter, Granger and Blaise all stood around his bed. When had this happened?
"Thank Merlin! You passed out! I told you to eat more!" Granger said.
"You're back in your room, Blaise insisted that we not take you the infirmary," she told him, running a series of basic diagnostic spells over him.
Granger frowned.
"You're iron deficient."
"Is that why I happened to fall—"
Her frown only deepened.
"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly afraid of the answer.
"Nothing, the spell is malfunctioning, I'll get you some iron boosting potion. Just eat more and sleep more. Your body has suffered a lot of stress the past two years; it will affect you permanently if you continue along this path," she said seriously. Blaise hovered around his bed as she showed him some potions.
"These should help."
Draco fell back on his pillows as she placed three potions on his bedside table. Blaise stroked his shoulder soothingly.
"Take some rest," Blaise said.
October 27…
It started as a nagging twitch in his left eye, which developed into a white smudge that seemed to remain there like an oily fingerprint on clean glass.
"Draco, your eye is like a cherry! Don't rub it anymore!" Blaise said forcefully, pushing Draco's hands away from his face.
"There's something in there! It's like a white smudge!" Draco yelled, pulling his arm away from Blaise. He was suddenly very tired…so tired he felt like lying on the floor and sleeping. Blaise seemed to be moving further and further away.
Draco took a sip of water and realised that there were two things very wrong with the situation. One, Dumbledore was standing in front of him, and two, Dumbledore was standing in front of him.
He spat the water out.
"Blaise, I'm going to ask you a very odd question. Just answer honestly."
"Alright"," Blaise said, worriedly.
"Do you see any people other than us in this room?"
"No," Blaise replied giving Draco a strange look.
"Ah, good," Draco said. Dumbledore took off his glasses.
"I'm not actually here. Well, I am here, but I am neither here nor there, I am—," Dumbledore started.
"Blaise, I'm fine. Really. Just go ahead without me." Blaise looked like he was about to protest, but stopped.
"If you say so."
Draco waited until he was completely out the door before turning to Dumbledore.
"Ah, my boy, it appears that I've been sent back."
"Can you go haunt H—Potter or something? I think I have enough on my plate."
"Just go on with your life, Mr. Malfoy. I have been sent back for a reason. Obviously someone thought you needed some help in your life. I don't control what is happening to my soul anymore."
Draco stared helplessly at the hallucination.
"You're not real."
"In a way, nothing is real. Emotions are a completely human invention; we make reality with our minds. The very fact that you chose to talk to me keeps me in existence. Continue on with your life. I've always liked staying in the castle; it was one of the reasons I decided to become a teacher." Dumbledore faded from view.
October 30…
"Granger, do you honestly think that soaking this in Unicorn urine will remove the curse?"
"I'm saying that it's entirely possible that--"
"No, it won't work because the urine is acidic and thus will promote the reflux factor—," Draco was arguing when Dumbledore stepped into view again.
"Oh! Well, I thought you could counter the reflux with…. Are you okay, you look like you've seen a ghost!"
Dumbledore gestured to him. Draco looked up at the ceiling hoping that he would go away. It was too much to hope even for a moment's peace nowadays.
"I'll be back," he said. She nodded and began flipping through her notes.
"What are you doing?" he whispered to Dumbledore as they quickly walked past the book shelves into the Restricted Section.
"You need to do something for me," Dumbledore said, pulling out a ghostly wand.
"What? No! I'm not your Golden Boy. That's Potter!"
"Harry was not mine, you know."
Somewhere up ahead, Draco heard the cry of either a baby animal or a small child.
"What the—?" Draco said, looking behind him for the source of the noise.
"It's just a trick of the magic here, designed to pull you further in," Dumbledore said.
"There!" Dumbledore pointed to a book on a shelf, Draco retrieved it.
"You pulled me away from my final project so that you could have a little bit of light reading?" Draco asked, exasperated at the whole situation.
"It's for you. I think you'll find it useful in the future."
"I don't see why you couldn't just appear to Potter and leave me out of this! I want no part in your plan."
"I didn't choose who I could appear to; I appear to the person who needs the most. Of course there was a logical fallacy when I designed the spell, but it was—."
"I can't deal with you right now! I don't need this; I need a new life, a change of pace. I need to leave this place!" Draco shouted at him. He must look like a crazed murderer.
"You came back willingly."
"McGonagall blackmailed me—"
"You are seeking redemption in the very place you sinned."
"Really, well you're dead, so ha!"
"Details. Now do you think they manufacture ectoplasmic lemon drops?" Dumbledore asked stroking his beard pensively.
"Just because I wasn't on the winning side of the war doesn't mean I need to seek redemption. Potter killed people. Hell, Potter probably practiced killing on Death Eaters. I don't see him seeking redemption."
Draco looked down the aisle where the sound seemed to be originating, and saw a beautiful woman crying on the floor. He would have stepped down the aisle to help her, but Dumbledore held him back. The woman on the floor dissipated into the air after a minute.
Dumbledore paused for a moment.
"Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn't. I would not be so quick to judge him as a conscienceless being."
"I may have well died! It's not like I'm wanted here." Draco was almost yelling now. He hadn't even realised how he felt about this.
"Renounce your faith, renounce your friends, your family, renounce your money, and renounce love! Yet one day you will see a reflection of yourself. You cannot renounce yourself. You are what you are and in the end, you must find a way to make up for past debts," Dumbledore finished.
"What are you saying?"
"Nothing, my boy, I am saying absolutely nothing."
"What do you know?" Draco asked, suspiciously.
"I have a feeling… That perhaps you owe Harry more than you think."
A philosophical hallucination, fainting, and a beautiful woman; the making of an excellent fiction novel, Draco thought, fingering the book.
I would love to hear your thoughts!