A/N – Creeping back from the dead, I spilled years and years' worth of writer's block into a nine page one shot about a couple that isn't written about much on this site. I hope it's okay, apologizes if it's a bit scattered. Please enjoy and please review!
Disclaimer – All plot points, characters, places, and things belong to JK Rowling. Song inspiration and title belong to Coldplay.
Fix You
An Angelina/Draco story
"High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you'll never know
Just what you're worth.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you." - Coldplay, Fix You
Under a sheet of darkness, dark brown eyes shot open. Focusing her eyes to the blackness of her bedroom, Angelina Johnson's heart beat throbbed rapidly against her chest. She had been awakened in the late hours of the night by her parents shuffling in the kitchen. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning and she was still lying in her bed pretending to slumber. If she were asleep, her parents would speak more freely amongst themselves.
"Jackson, they've done it!"
"Are you sure?"
"The owl – it belongs to the Malfoys."
"What did it confirm?"
"The Death Eaters arrived at the Manor moments ago, the deed is done."
Jackson and Pauline Johnson never spoke about their affairs in front of their daughter. Coming from a long line of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, Angelina was instantly the odd one out when the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor!" the night of her sorting. What made her stand out more so, however, was her intolerance towards her family's bigoted ways. She cared not for bloodlines, wealth, or the Dark Arts.; but for Quidditch, humor, and the occasional Weasley twin.
The Johnson household always had a tense presence and Angelina was working endlessly through her trials at St. Mungo's to earn enough income as a Healer to move out on her own. It had been a year since her Hogwarts graduation and things were getting bad. There was a war coming and she desperately hoped she would be out of her parents' lives before she was made to choose sides. They wouldn't be happy with her choice.
Angelina swallowed a lump of nerves in her throat and closed her eyes once more, listening to her parents voices.
"Should you go?" her mother asked
"I haven't been summoned. This task only involved a few."
She knew what they were talking about; it had been topic of her parents' midnight discussion for ages. The Death Eaters were concocting a plan to overthrow Hogwarts and its main source of power, Albus Dumbledore. Their main weapon of choice was Draco Malfoy, new inductee, who had been given the task to get his fellow Death Eaters into the school, past the protective boundaries. There had also been rumor that Draco had a specific task from the Dark Lord himself to do in Dumbledore himself. Many of them were not sure the youngest Malfoy had the gall or the stomach to kill Dumbledore. Angelina prayed he didn't.
Rolling onto her back, she strained her ears once more. The conversation had ceased. Did Malfoy carry out with his task? Was Dumbledore dead? Whatever was going on was not good. She quietly placed her feet on the cold hardwood floor and crept toward her wardrobe. Pulling on a pair of old jeans and a purple sweater, she grabbed her wand from her night stand and her black cloak from its hook on the wall.
Standing in front of her bedroom window, she flicked her wand. "Silenceo!" Her fingers pried into the wooden window pane and she pushed the frame upward. Drawing up the hood of her cloak, she stuck her feet through the window and slid her body through the opening and leaped down. The wet grass three feet below broke her fall and her wet curls plastered her face as the rain poured from the gray sky. She closed her eyes against the water and one thought ran in her mind as the loud pop of her apparating cracked through the air – "The Malfoy Manor."
Hard concrete appeared under her feet and Angelina steadied herself as she appeared outside of the Malfoy's property line. She looked toward the Manor, rain still falling around her. All of the lights were lit and movement was visible. Two cloaked guards stood at the gates wearing Death Eater masks. Her stomach in knots, she felt foolishly brave. Acting on a whim of heroics was definitely a trait she picked up while in the Gryffindor house.
Throwing her shoulders back, she stood tall and pulled her hood further over her face. She made a beeline to the guards, praying to Merlin this would work.
"I have a message for Master Malfoy, from my father. I wish entrance onto the grounds." She pulled her hood back, stared at the mask of the Death Eater to her right, and spoke loudly over the rainfall. "My name is Johnson, Daughter of Jackson Johnson."
Both Death Eaters stared at her for a moment. Angelina had a slight feeling she might pull this off. She stared down both guards, giving them the stern look that always resided on her father's face. There was no denying that she looked identical to him when she pressed her lips together to form a straight line.
A wand rose from the dark cloak wrapped around the Death Eater on the left. He motioned it toward the gate and it creaked open a few inches. They both nodded in her direction, allowing entrance.
Throwing her hood back up, she sucked in a breath and returned the nod. She squeezed through the gate and entered the stone stairwell that led to the front doors. She took the first few steps and stopped once she got out of sight. Exhaling a sigh of relief, she stood there shaking, partly from the cold but mainly from nerves. She swallowed the lump in her throat and crept back down the staircase.
Seeing the guards' backs toward her, she rushed into the gardens to her left. Running through bushes, trees, and ferns she kept her footing light and her breath drawn. She stopped behind a large willow tree and looked up. The light in Malfoy's room was blazing and a sole figure was pacing inside. She withdrew her wand from her belt and apparated to the balcony outside the two glass doors.
Landing onto the platform, she clutched the concrete railing to catch her balance. She stood still as to not be detected and stared at the dark green curtains that were drawn closed. The figure, which she assumed to be Malfoy's, stops pacing. Not moving an inch or a muscle, she barely let a breath escape her lips. A roll of thunder echoed through the grounds and the figure started pacing again.
Seeing a sliver of light in the middle of the curtains where the two pieces met, Angelina slowly made her way to the other side of the balcony. Sliding her body along the rails, she progressed slowly trying not to move anything but her feet. She stopped right before the shard of light hit her body and she crooked her neck to glance inside. The figure had stopped pacing and was standing in the corner.
The figure wore a black suit and had bright blonde hair. Draco Malfoy stood in front of a large vanity mirror and Angelina was fairly certain he was alone. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room, the few inches she could see, and she walked up to the door. With the knuckle of her right index finger, she rapped softly on the glass, once than three times in a row, than two quick thumps. This was the knock they used as children when one of them would sneak from their homes to get away from their families. Neither of them had used it since their last meeting almost six years ago, during the summer after Draco's first year at Hogwarts. Surely, he would still remember?
Malfoy's head popped up and he stared at the mirror. Slowly turning around, he placed his gaze to the doors. Angelina did the knock again and he hesitantly walked across the room. He pulled back the curtain and Angelina looked into his distressed ashen eyes as they widened. He didn't move for a few seconds and neither did she. He looked away, a confused look on his face, and grabbed the silver door knob.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered angrily.
"What is going on, Malfoy?" she stepped inside and met his whispers with her own.
"What-What do you know?" he backed up, letting her in.
"I overheard my parents talking," She took off her wet cloak and tossed it outside, not wanting to get the dark green carpets wet.
"Shh, quieter," he reached past her and closed the door. He grabbed her waist and ushered her to the edge of the plush bed in the middle of the room. He rushed over to his bedroom door and twisted the lock, muttering silencing spells under his breath.
"How much do you know?" He said louder, his back still towards her.
"Not-"Angelina started, "Not much. My father spoke to my mother about a plan. You were working on a way of getting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts to overthrow Dumbledore."
He turned toward her, a look of worry on his face, "Is that all you heard?"
She looked into his eyes, feeling a horrible sense of de ja vu. Many a times had she looked into Malfoy's anxious gray eyes and though feeling nervous, consoled him the best she could.
"There's been talk…"she trailed off. Her chocolate brown eyes bore into his, trying to read them. Was she going to console him about something far worse than what she did as a child?
"Draco," she whispered, "What have you done?"
He looked at her and she frowned. Surely he couldn't go through with it? She knew he had certainly changed since their childhood but it would be impossible to believe he changed into a cold blooded killer. Was it possible? She found a few tears slipping down her face but did nothing to wipe them away.
"Don't cry," He rushed toward her and knelt before her. He placed his hands on the side of the mattress, one on either side of her, "What talk did you hear?"
"You-Know-Who," she dared not raise her voice above a whisper, "Gave you orders to kill Dumbledore."
He stared at her, still kneeling. Her hands sat cold and clammy in her lap, her heart now beating in her throat. The look of defeat on his face sent her stomach flipping in a sickening way. She slid her right hand to her side and placed it on top of his. Cocoa skin on top of snow white, she clutched at his hand.
"Draco," his name escaped her throat.
"Don't," he stood, taking his hand from hers. "You haven't called me that in ages."
She looked at him desperately, pining for an answer. Ever since Malfoy started Hogwarts six years ago, they had an understanding that their friendship could not continue. They had been on a last name basis since then. With a second war brewing however, petty school rivalries seemed foolish.
He walked toward the vanity and sat down on the small, black chair. He let his shoulders slump and placed his elbows on his thighs, head in his hands.
"I didn't do it," he said softly.
"What?"
"A poisoned bottle of mead," his voice was flat, "A hexed necklace, nothing worked. I followed him and followed him yet, as usual, I failed."
She stared at his sullen figure, "You didn't? You didn't do it?"
"No!" he exclaimed, standing up, "I didn't! I couldn't! I couldn't do it…I had the chance, I had the shot and I couldn't do it."
"You wanted to follow through with this task?" she looked up at him as he shouted toward her. She frowned at him.
"No, Johnson, you don't understand," his voice lined with desperation, "I didn't do it, so he's going to kill me. He's going to know that I wasn't the one to kill him. I didn't follow through!"
"Wait," she said desperately, "He's dead? Dumbledore is dead?"
"Snape," The word was hoarse.
Angelina's breath was knocked out of her. She blinked, glad that she was already sitting down and her chest constricted to force air into her lungs. Dumbledore was dead? Wasn't Snape in The Order? Snape was supposed to be a spy, but not for You-Know-Who. What were they going to do without Dumbledore? She couldn't wrap her head around it.
In the midst of her stunned silence Malfoy sat down next to her, staring at the floor.
"I'm dead." he said simply, "The Dark Lord is going to kill me."
"I thought Snape was on Dumbledore's side?" Angelina shook her head.
"I think," he swallowed, "he was trying to protect me. I heard mum talking to my father about Snape following through on his promise."
"So," she tried her best to push past what was really going on out there to focus on her old friend, "Snape was protecting you? If he promised your mother he would…do such a thing, it must have been to cover for you. That's how they work, Draco. My father has covered for so many people for the very same reason,"
"This isn't any simple task, Johnson," he looked at her, fear written all over his face, "This was an enormous responsibility and Snape can't just simply cover for me. There were witnesses."
"I think I'm going be sick," her stomach was performing summersaults and she was fairly certain her heart was right under her tongue by now.
"You're going to be sick? Are you mad? The Dark Lord doesn't even know you exist. Your life is safe."
"You're wrong, Draco, you're wrong," She placed a hand on his back, partly to steady the dizziness that was swimming behind her eyes. "You'll see. Your parents wouldn't let Him just off you like that, not at all."
He shook his head, his face rapidly losing color. He stood on his feet but he quickly sat back down.
"I don't know what to do," he said desperately. She had never seen him like this as a grown man. The look in his face was a familiar one she was used to as a child, but never on the arrogant adult he had become. Maybe he had not changed so much after all.
"Why don't you just lie down? Come on, you need to calm down, we need to think on this." She stood up and walked in front of him, looking down. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"
A hoarse laugh passed between his dry, pale lips. "Do you honestly think I'm going to be able to sleep? Think clearly, Johnson. Would you be able to sleep if you were in fear for your life? I'll probably never sleep again."
"Okay, you're right, you're right. But we can figure this out." She grabbed his hand with both of hers and pulled him up, "I promise, we'll figure this out. You won't have to go through any more of this alone."
She led him to the side of the bed and took off his jacket. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he sat down, kicking his black shoes off. He swung his feet over the edge and lay on top of the bed, his head hitting the pillow. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about his fate.
Angelina stared down at him and imagined what the last year of his life had been like. Becoming a Death Eater, whether it was by force or free will, but taking that large responsibility all on his own? As he grew older, Angelina could tell he patronized his friends. He used them to make himself look tough, no more. No real friendships, no real bonds, Draco Malfoy was a loner if she ever saw one.
She grabbed the vanity chair and sat down beside him. She stared at his hard face and new tears welled in her for the second time that night. She watched her old friend stare helplessly into the distance. Feelings of fear brought on by a brooding war and feelings of sentiment from seeing her old friend harbored in her throat. Her dried tear stains were remoistened as she thought what an awful choice they had made as children.
School rivalries are one of the top problems of a child at Hogwarts but had they known their futures would have been so dark, would they have chosen to remain friends? Until their very ages of adolescence, they had been each other's only confidants and only friends. Angelina once held Draco closer than she held her own parents. Why would they let a childhood bond that defined them fall so far to the waste side?
"I'm sorry." She whispered, staring at him.
"Sorry?" he took his attention off the spot on the ceiling, placing it on her.
"You shouldn't have had to go through all of this alone." Her voice was barely higher than a whisper. "The past year must have been dreadful for you. I wish I could have been there, at Hogwarts. I wish I could have been there…like I used to be." Tears still streamed down her face.
Draco glanced over his shoulder at the girl he used to call his best friend. He saw a look he hadn't seen on Angelina Johnson's face in nearly a decade. Defeat, helplessness, and regret etched her face and her eyes lit up with sadness. He had seen that miserable look in her eyes many a times when they were children. It seemed to bother him more now because he had somehow caused it.
He felt a familiar jitter in his bones that made him jump from his spot; he did not get this feeling often. He pulled his legs to the side of the bed and sat up on the edge. He wanted to wipe her tears but he stopped himself as he lifted his hand. Had this situation happened ten years ago, small Draco would have had small Angelina in his arms by now, but things were different. He couldn't simply comfort her like he used to, nothing was that simple any more.
"Johnson, don't," he awkwardly patted her shoulder as she wiped her eyes with her bare hands, "It's not that like that – come, on. Johnson…"
He hadn't seen a girl genuinely cry in front of him in ages, he had almost forgotten how to act. Used to snubbing his nose at the drawn out, dramatic cries of the attention seeking Slytherin girls from school, he was slightly frightened at the small, sincere crying Angelina was trying to cover up. He gulped, a true sense of swallowing his pride, and gave in to his gut - letting go of the cold ego he had grown at Hogwarts.
He stood on his feet and grabbed her hands, standing her up right. He slowly placed his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a very timid hug. Standing nearly a head taller than her, he slightly hovered over her slender frame and held her head as she broke down in his arms.
"Don't do this," he whispered as he buried his long, pale fingers in her dark hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him tightly. Sobs wracked her body and he pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, further stroking her long curls as they fell around her shoulders. "Angelina, please."
She quickly pulled away from him and her brown eyes met his slate ones.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have-"
"You haven't called me "Angelina" in six years." She smiled through her tears.
He shook his head at the unpretentious things that had always made her happy and took her in his arms once more. She laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his chin on the top of her head. They stood like this for several moments until Angelina spoke the thought Draco was too afraid to say,
"I've missed you." She said in a small voice, then a little more loudly, "I've missed this. I know we were young but I've never quite connected with anyone like I did with you. No one understands what I've been through."
"I'll always understand you," he whispered in her ear.
Her eyes closed against Draco's chest as his lips moved against her ear. She hoped they would remain like this until the red blush wore off of her face.
"We can't carry on like this, you know. Things can't be like they once were," he steadily spoke in her ear, slowly voicing his thoughts, "My family is involved in this war too intensely."
"Draco," she pulled away slightly, gripping at the two arms that were wrapped around her waist, "I know my father isn't as closely involved as your father but he knows things. He knows about plans and tactics and whereabouts…I can, I can act like I'm okay with all of this. We can go through all of this together,"
"No," he said firmly, taking his arms from underneath her grasps. He softly took her face in his hands, lowering himself to her eye level, "You are not okay with this life, Angelina. You are too good for this life. Death Eaters are hateful, spiteful, disgusting people. You are none of those. Don't you ever convey your beliefs. Not for me. Not for anyone."
"You can't do this alone," she grasped at his hands, "You aren't okay with this life either, Draco, I know you aren't."
"It doesn't matter," he said shortly. "I have to do this for my family, to fix the errors my father has made. Your father may be involved but not as far as mine, we are in too deep. My life is in danger because of his mistakes, if they even associated you with me your life would be in danger as well. I can't have that, I won't."
Angelina blinked back the steady flow of tears that had been tumbling down her face for the past few minutes. She knew Draco was right but she also knew that she would give up her safety in a second if it meant she could help him. Draco's life was in shambles, he was a broken boy, barely even a man. All she wanted to do was fix her old friend.
"Fine," she frowned, pulling away from his hold. She took a step back until they were no longer touching. Wiping the tears from her eyes she made her way to the balcony. She placed her hand on the silver latch and whispered, "Just be careful. Please."
Worry etched his face and for a second he did not know what to do. The only true friend he ever had was about to walk out of his life, maybe for good. Their old friendship was a hard sacrifice but he would give it up for her to be safe. It would be selfish of him to accept her request of staying just so he would have someone to hold on to. But would it be selfish to ask for one last moment from her before he gave up everything?
"Wait," escaped his lips. She turned to face him and before he knew what was happening he took three wide strides toward her and with one desperate look in his eyes he grabbed her waist in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He pulled her body toward him and pressed harder on her mouth, inhaling her scent and ignoring the blood rushing behind his ears. She grasped at his neck and kissed back, practically fifteen years of built up emotions electrifying between them.
Every single argument from Hogwarts, every single hateful glare from the Quidditch pitch, every single petty and childish school rival insult they had ever hauled at each other after they decided not to acknowledge their childhood together fueled the kiss they were now sharing. Draco swallowed every inch of skin from her lips, from her tongue, even from her teeth. Angelina bit his bottom lip, breathing in his aroma and pressing every inch of hatred she had ever had for him after ruining her first game as Quidditch captain back into his mouth. Their lips slammed together and every single moment of innocence, sadness, happiness, bitterness, jealousy, and anger pulled into one moment of passion that neither one of them even knew they had.
"Don't leave." He said heavily, trying to catch his breath.
"What?" she pulled away slightly.
"I just don't want to be alone," he shook his head, "If someone comes to off me, at least I can spend my last minutes with someone who may care that I'm gone,"
A small smile spread across her face and she nodded slightly. Turning around and walking to the side of the bed, she slipped off her shoes as she sat down and drew her legs up. Feet stretched in front of her, she placed her hands in her lap and looked at him. He walked to the opposite side of the bed and laid down flat beside her. Lowering herself so they were laying shoulder to shoulder, she grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers and placed them in between their bodies. She placed her head on his shoulder and said, "Everything is going to turn out, you'll see."
They stayed like that for quite some time, simply feeling each other's presence. Angelina stayed with her old friend and rival, providing a security cloak of some sorts throughout the night. She could not fix him, that much was true, but she could at least mend the broken friendship that hung between them.
The rhythm of Angelina's beating heart lulled Draco into a state of drowsiness that he could no longer fight. He knew very well that Lord Voldemort could storm into his bedroom any moment and end his life for not killing Dumbledore himself but none of that ran through his mind once sleep closed his heavy eyelids.
For the first time that year Draco was not awakened by his screams or gasps from nightmares and guilt. When he silently awoke at day break and found that Angelina had gone, he felt that a chapter in his life had closed and for once he was happy with the ending.