Chapter One: A Strange Shadow
Draco took another drink out of his bottle. Looking out across the skyline visible from his window, he could just make out the lights brightening the Paris landscape, and farther in the distance he could see the Eiffel Tower gracing the features of the land. By now he had had about the amount of alcohol in 5 butterbeers, but that didn't bother him anymore. His tolerance had built up over the past five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, and he wasn't sure why he even bothered anymore. Alcohol had lost its blinding effects, but he had to admit it still helped him to forget a little and took a small edge off the pain.
Tonight was like every other night since Draco had moved to Paris. He would look out the window, seeing the beautiful landscape and the couples passing beneath his flat, enjoying the air of one of the most romantic cities on Earth. He would then sigh, put down his drink, and go off to bed. He would wake up tomorrow just like he had for the past five years, covered in sweat from nightmares he couldn't recall anymore and with a raging headache from his constant alcohol consumption. He would then force himself to get out of bed and run an extra mile. He had gotten up to about 15 to 20 miles a day, and he was running out of places to run where he wouldn't get lost. All through his run he would have to fight the voices inside his head, retelling the horrors of his past and trying to make him stop running. Most days he won, but there were some days that the voices won.
After his run he would take a shower, and try to eat some breakfast. He would prepare a breakfast the size of a normal man's appetite, take a couple of bites, and then bag the rest as his appetite disappeared. Then he would sit down at his computer, and begin the day's work. He had taken up a job as a muggle critique and journalist when he first moved here, reviewing anything from films to food. His pen name was DM, though the muggles wouldn't recognize his real name anyway. He had built up quite the reputation for himself as a critique, and since about a year ago, he has had a constant queue of things that he had to write reviews on. He wouldn't complain, though, since it let him express his own opinions and paid the bills. It was like the job was meant for him somehow.
Once he finished with work, Draco would try and eat dinner. He would then pull out his bottle and drink away an hour to two, letting the reality of his life sink in once again. He could never escape what had happened, and what mistakes he had made. All of the people he had hurt and crossed came to him, some more often than others, and they would mock him until the tears would stream in an unstoppable current running down his cheeks. That was when he would drink the most, finishing off three or four bottles in the span of those weakened thirty minutes. Then the cycle would start all over again, just like it had been restarting for the past five years. Little did Draco know that the next day would not only save him from himself, but also change his life forever.
It was on his morning run when it happened. The voices were stronger today than they had been in years, and Draco was having a harder time blocking them out. It was a little past six in the morning when he began to make his way across the bridge that signaled he was five miles from his flat. The bridge itself rose about 20 feet above the river it crossed, and was about a mile long. As soon as Draco crossed the threshold of the structure the voices began to scream, and Draco couldn't take it any longer. He slowed up his pace to a walk, and then stopped completely, pressing his hands to his head. His mind began to attack him with the same old comments, but this time in a more vicious light. His brain called him names ranging from "monster" to "coward" and from "murderer" to "criminal."
The sudden thought broke through the cacophony of noise. He was on a bridge. One simple step and he could silence the voices once and for all. Draco didn't let himself think twice, climbing swiftly onto the bridge's railing and stepping over the rope that served as a barrier. He was faced with a 20 foot drop, met by dark waters that churned ominously from the light wind. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and took a step forward.
He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't what he experienced. He sort of expected a falling feeling, with the wind rushing past him, and then a sudden drop at the end where he hit the dark waters. He didn't expect to feel like he was suspended, neither falling nor rising, but definitely off the ground. He decided to risk opening his eyes, and almost screamed when he realized he actually was suspended in midair. His limbs were flailing in the air, and his heart clenched as he could see that his feet had left the ground and his face was pointed towards the river below.
Suddenly he was moving, but not of his own accord. His body righted itself, and then moved to bring him back to a standing position on the bridge, facing away from the water and the edge. Instead he was facing a figure shrouded in darkness, with a wand clearly pointing at him. He almost screamed again, until the figure stepped into the light.
Draco recognized her immediately. He could have never forgotten her long hair or her bright blue eyes, or her plump lips that never seemed to do anything but smile, even when she talked. Rose Walker was standing there, her wand pointing at his chest, and for once she was not smiling. Draco hadn't seen Rose since the Battle of Hogwarts, when he had made his decision to go with his family instead of staying with her.
Rose was pry the closest thing Draco had to a real friend, and the only girl he had ever fallen in love with. She was his age and resided in Ravenclaw. It would have been perfect, if she had not been friends with the golden trio and been a muggleborn. As it were, none of those things had mattered to him when he was with Rose, up until they came into sharp focus around his sixth year. That was when he had cut her from his life, trying to protect her from the monster he was becoming. He still had the scars on his heart from that day, and now they were reopened from seeing her face.
She was thinner then she had been during school and her eyes and face had an air of maturity about them that took a little away from the youthful spark that used to be there. He then noticed that her wand arm was shaking, and that those blue eyes were staring directly at him. It took all his strength to raise his own eyes to meet hers, and when he did his heart burst inside of his chest.
Before he knew what he was doing, he had made his way across the bridge to Rose and had wrapped her in his arms. He could feel himself shaking against her, and noticed that she was shaking as well. Being in such close proximity to her brought all of the memories of their days together back into Draco's mind, in clear focus that almost brought tears to his eyes. It took all of his restraint to stop himself from crying out, and it took even more strength to force himself to let her go.
"What…What are you doing here?" He managed to choke out, avoiding her eyes and shying away from her touch. By now his brain had figured out that Rose had saved his life, bringing an even shakier edge to his voice.
"Saving you idiot." Rose huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Draco was glad to see that she had not lost any of her feistiness with the years. "What were you thinking?! You could have been killed!" Rose almost yelled, frustration and anger creeping into her voice.
"Being killed was the goal." Draco said quietly, hoping that Rose was too mad to hear. He was wrong, as he watched the look of realization and horror wash over her features. Her eyes widened and her cheeks slackened, as her whole face turned about three shades paler.
"Draco…" Rose squeaked, and he could tell she was working through her brain to find a way to deal with this. He was just another problem for her to solve, one more person for her to fix. So he did the logical thing, and took off running towards his flat.
Draco for once didn't think. For five miles he simply ran, not letting a single thing enter his mind. He didn't spare any time to look to see what Rose had done after he had left, and he did not expect her to even try and follow him. When he reached his flat he entered without even looking behind him, and shut the door. He almost screamed for yet the third time in one day when he caught sight of Rose, sitting at his kitchen counter, her head resting in the palm of her open hand. Just looking at her made his heart race, and he hoped that it didn't show on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Draco said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. He knew that if he said her name aloud he would lose it, and he could not afford to look weak in front of her.
"Well, that is an interesting question. I will try and spare you all of the boring details, but London got quite dull. So I moved to Paris, my dream city, and have been living here for a couple of months. I started reading this fabulous column by this critique named DM, and I got to thinking of you. So I called up my friends at the ministry and found out that you too were living in Paris. I immediately made the assumption and looked up your address. And now here I am." Rose said, smiling her bright smile. Draco knew there was a deeper reason, but he did not really want to discuss the subject. Instead, he wanted to find the real reason why she was here.
"I meant, why are you here?" Draco said, a slight edge creeping into his voice. It frustrated him that she had been leaving in the same freaking city as him for months and he had yet to see her. Given, he never really left his flat except for at early hours, but that was beside the point.
"Well, I thought I would pay you a visit." Rose said innocently, batting her eyelashes and pulling that small pout that made Draco secretly go crazy. He wasn't buying her reason though, so he pressed harder.
"No. Cut the bullshit Rose. Did the ministry send you? Is this a mission from your boyfriend?" Draco said, and immediately regretted it. He may have been hung-over and dizzy from his run, but the dark look that crossed Rose's face at the mention of her boyfriend did not escape Draco's notice.
"I do not associate with him anymore. And no, the ministry did not send me. That would be counterintuitive, as I moved to get away from them. I told you, I just wanted to visit. Now, it seems that I am not welcome in this house, so I will politely take my leave." Rose's voice had instantly turned cold and distant, and Draco could tell he had struck the wrong nerve. He watched her pull the sweater she was wearing closer to her body, and then observed as she stood up from the stool and began to make her way towards the door. She held her head high and she avoided his eyes, but he could tell by her posture that she was upset. He silently kicked himself for being so stupid, and decided to not make the same mistake twice in his life. He had let her walk away from him once, and had regretted it since it happened years ago. He wasn't going to let her get away again.
As Rose reached the door she did not spare him a glance, but was stopped before she could even open it. Draco's hand was on her wrist, holding on tight but not tight enough to cause her pain. Before she could even open her mouth to protest or pull away, he had his arms around her in a strong embrace. He relished the feeling of the human contact he had deprived himself of since she had left his life, and he hated the way he loved the feeling of her body pressed against his.
This time he did not let go. He held her for what seemed like ages, loving the feeling of her muscles relaxing in his hold and her head being brought to rest against his chest. He knew that he would have to let go soon, but he could not bring himself to do it. It was Rose that ended it, her fingers gently pushing against his chest as she pulled away from him. For a while they just stared at each other, both of them lost for words.
"I missed you so much. I have missed you since the day I told you to leave during sixth year. I have thought about you every day since then, and I am sorry. I am so sorry for doing all of those horrible things to you, and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be the happiest man in the world." Draco tried to say, but the words caught in his throat. Instead of coming out as words, his sentiments came out as strangled noises that sounded like he was choking.
Rose giggled at his noises, and then sat down on his sofa. "What do you say to taking the day off? You could give me a proper tour of Paris, since you apparently have run around most of it." Rose said, glancing in Draco's direction and smirking. He then was reminded how Rose could make him do anything with that smile, and how she always knew exactly what he needed, even without him saying so.
"Only on one condition: I pick where we eat for lunch." Draco finally was able to answer, a small smirk gracing his features. Rose nodded and smiled, standing up and stretching.
"My only condition is that you shower first. Running gives you the most delightfully pungent scent, and I don't think I could stand smelling it all day." Rose said, giggling again at Draco's look of indignation. He showered though, not even thinking twice about it.