Author note: this chapter is dedicated to my mum's boyfriend, without his technical wizardry I wouldn't have half this chapter and it certainly wouldn't be going up tonight, thanks to a computer that likes to crash. Mercifully he was able to find the file and save the day, phew.
Chapter thirty-six: What really matters
"The half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole." quote from BBC Merlin
Draco
Wandering the silent corridors, which bore their scars of the battle just like everything else here, Draco felt the most unwelcome and strange sense of loneliness and isolation. He had nowhere else to go, no one to go and be with, ever since the ceasefire was called he had been walking the empty corridors of the school, alone, and it bothered him. He had always belonged to something, always, when he was young there was the pride and honour of being a Malfoy, and when he started school the prestige of being a Slytherin. It had never mattered to them that they hadn't bonded with the rest of the school; they had never felt like they had to, they were fine on their own and not remotely dependant on the friendship of the other houses, though of course for him that had simply not been the case. But that was beside the point, Draco thought, frowning down at his scuffed shoes. Lately of course, there had been the Death Eaters, he had been one of them, even though he was just a glorified whipping boy and he didn't want to be there really, he had still belonged and was part of something. That had all changed now though, Draco was no longer a Death Eater, there was no way that he could be, not now, and if he was honest he didn't feel much connection to his Malfoy or Slytherin brethren either. Draco was adrift, breaking free from the groups that had defined him all through his life and trying to figure out where that put him. He wasn't a Hogwartian, not really, Draco didn't want to watch the school fall or lose any more of his friends, but he felt no duty, no comradeship to those gathered in the Great Hall, and was prepared to bet his soon to be denied inheritance that they wouldn't welcome him if he did show up. So that left him here, drifting, wandering aimlessly on, on neither side of this war exactly, but leaning further away from the one he started on towards the one he was sure would fail. Draco fought for his own cause now, for his own reason, and there was only one thing that could keep him here to witness this disaster, and he would protect her at all costs.
Draco would be lying if he said he wasn't scared, in actual fact he became more so with every minute that passed. And what it was, that actually unsettled him so, was something he couldn't quite pin down. He'd been feeling steadily worse for moments now, and he could no longer remember exactly what had set this on, all he could think about where the many reasons why he should feel so distressed. He was going to die, quite obviously, there was no way Voldemort would suffer him to live after Draco betrayed him so, and that was a fact, also, no one but his parents would care when he died because no one would ever know all that he had suffered and all that he had done, how good he really could be, was a secret that would go to his grave with him. He had saved Ivy, allowing her to beat Carrow who seemed to have worked the fiery brunette up into a rage during the battle, but he wouldn't be around all the time to keep her safe and when he was she would never actually know it was him. She would carry on with her friends, worrying for them, for Potter, and never give him a second thought. Furthermore, if by some bizarre twist of fate he and everyone he cared about managed to get out of this alive then he would still have no one, for his parents would want nothing to do with their traitorous son who had fallen in love with a Muggleborn, and said Muggleborn would want nothing to do with the man who had betrayed her trust. She'd already moved on after all. It was a wonder he even carried on trying, Draco thought morosely, for what did he have, what did he actually stand to gain from all that he was putting himself through? The answer of course was nothing, but still he carried on, hurrying through the corridors of Hogwarts, desperate the find some purpose or for Voldemort to recommence the battle.
He was aimlessly walking down the far end of the second floor corridor, when he finally noticed that he was shaking. Rubbing his arms to find them covered in gooseflesh Draco frowned, what was all that about? The castle was never this cold, but he felt suddenly freezing. Deciding that the Death Eaters had obviously destroyed whatever charm kept this place warm, or that the teachers simply weren't bothered with maintaining it at the time, Draco carried on, trying to remember a thought which had been giving him pleasure just moments ago, but he struggled, it was something to do with Ivy and Carrow, who had tormented Draco a great deal this year, but he couldn't remember exactly what it was. This frustrated Draco more than anything else, but still he walked on, the end of the corridor and the corner to turn onto the next in sight, but hopelessness soon followed that. Despairing at his loss of memory and every other depressing realisation, Draco honestly wondered why he even bothered; it wasn't like he was ever going to be happy again. Shuddering as a fresh wave of cold passed over his body, chilling him, Draco was suddenly assaulted with the memory of that night last June. Ivy, the blazing orange light of the fire that consumed Hagrid's house flickering across her face, illuminating her frowning expression, and the warm night air toying with her hair, sat up and looked towards him, hatred and hurt blazing in her eyes.
"Traitor!" she hissed, her words cutting through Draco like a knife. What had I done? He wondered. How did I get to this point, where her words could wound me so, and her opinion was the only one that mattered?
Desperately trying to pull himself from the memory Draco shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but he could still hear that one word, echoing in his mind, and it tortured him. Gripping the spare wand, though he knew it would do him no good, Draco was hardly aware of what he was doing as he carried on walking, picking up his speed and franticly trying to find something to distract him, to make him forget about what he had done, but he couldn't, nothing could make him forget his wretched circumstances. What the Hell was the point? Draco was asking himself as that word, the same one branded forever on his hand, continued to repeat over and over in his mind, however, when a cloaked figure rounded the corner just ahead of him, all of that was temporary blown from his mind as Draco came to a terrified stop. Voldemort, he thought, trembling all over again, he hadn't done what the Dark Lord had asked and he was making the most of the armistice to come and make Draco pay for that. But then Draco calmed down a little and looked closer, noticed the ragged, worn nature of the cloak, the slow sweeping movements of the being before him, and the stench of death filling the corridor, and fear of an entirely different kind filled him. This wasn't Voldemort, it was a Dementor.
Assaulted by another blast of that painful memory, Draco was recoiling even before the Dementor shot towards him, in agony before it picked him up as though he were weightless and slammed him brutally against the wall, pinning him there to struggle against both it and his past. Draco fought against the creature's cast-iron grip around his throat, gasping for breath and thrashing desperately, but it was futile, a useless effort he knew, because he had never learnt the spell to drive off a Dementor, and more memories were attacking him now, more terrors. That last goodbye to Ivy in the Astronomy classroom, the time he had been forced to watch, unable to do a single thing, as Voldemort tortured her to within an inch of her life, the brutal jealousy her love for Potter caused him, and so many other cruel remembrances were rushing though his head, making it difficult to see why he even fought at all. There wasn't any point, no one would really morn his death, he'd been nothing but a trouble and a disappointment to everyone. What was the point?
Ivy
The lungful of air I took to propel myself forwards, was as painful as though I had inhaled a handful of drawing pins, it shot down my throat, ripping at my oesophagus, tearing at my lungs and heart. Sprinting across the Entrance Hall I ran for the Grand Staircase, leaping over rubble and dodging the straggling wounded fighters, my heart racing even faster than I was. Taking another raw breath I grabbed hold of what remained of the shattered banister, the jagged stone cutting into my palm as I used it to push myself up the stairs. Taking quick, reaching strides I tripped over the debris littering the steps, sending a torrent of stones tumbling down the stairs but, keeping my balance as I clung to the railing, I took off again immediately, taking the stairs two at a time, blood rushing in my ears and my legs about as stable as jelly. There wasn't a hurdle in the world, not one single obstacle that could stop me now.
Of all the things that might have happened during the battle, all the horrific possibilities, this was the one that I hadn't even considered, that this could happen hadn't even crossed my mind, and why should it have, Draco was a Death Eater after all? To find myself in this situation was surreal, confusing, but I didn't give my response a second thought, there was nothing to consider really, there was only one thing I could do and no time to spare. Frowning deeply, my teeth firmly grit and bared in a visible show of my determination, I skidded onto the first floor landing and used the railing once more to keep my momentum going as I shot up the last flight of stairs. With each step I took the world seemed to shrink around me, with every stair I climbed I found myself focusing more and more on some distant point I couldn't even see yet, my destination. My heart was beat out a drumbeat against my chest and as I jumped the last few stairs I felt it pulling me forwards with its desperate rhythm. I had barely set foot on the landing of the second floor before I was tearing off around the corner and down the corridor, running for all I was worth towards the place where I had seen him. I didn't have long; I knew it, could sense it and was prepared to stake my very life on the fact, though I was actually risking another's. I had to hurry, to run faster, I urged my legs to speed up, though they groaned and ached in protest as I raced down what was a virtually untouched corridor, left alone by the fighters and still in one miraculous piece, except for the suits of armour McGonagall had drafted earlier.
I was halfway down the corridor when the wall of chill hit me like a smack in the face, causing me to almost stumble back before working its way downwards over my body, drawing a shiver from deep in my bones as it crept across my flesh. But still I kept on running, grabbing hold of that happy memory to keep me safe from the Dementor's influence. A summers day last June, the memory of it all was fresh and vivid in my mind, the scent of freshly cut grass and pollen in the air, the sound of that rare companionable laughter echoing in my ears from the one I raced towards. Lost in this world of a bittersweet past nothing could touch me, while I could still feel the chill of the Dementors, it was nowhere near enough to slow me down let alone stop me in my efforts.
Resolve and desperation coursing through me I tightened my grip on the Hawthorn wand and looked up, feeling my heart give a lurch when my gaze landed, for the first time, on what I had been trying to prevent. Stunned by the sight I slowed to a stop beside the iced over grandfather clock, my heartbeat fading and my blood running cold. It had been horrific in my vision, but in reality this was unbearable. Draco's pale white face was tinted blue as the Dementor cut off his air supply with one deadened hand. His own fingers trying to prise the skeletal grip away from his throat, Draco fought for each breath he took, but that was all the fighting he did. In all else Draco seemed to have given up, his legs dangled limply above the ground and his body was still in the Dementor's grip, but most alarming of all, there was a terrifying acceptance in his half-closed expression. I couldn't understand it; his surrender frustrated me and freed me from my numbed state as annoyance hardened my emotions. He wasn't going to protect himself, he had given in, but the proud idiot was in for a shock if he thought this was it, that I would just LET him give up. I wasn't finished with him yet; I thought as the Dementor raised a rotting hand to lower its hood, I wasn't letting him go anywhere. I reacted instinctively.
"Expecto Patronum!" I roared, throwing out my wand arm and training Draco's wand on the creature attacking him, my voice magnified by my passion and the power of my spell heightened by the same. I stood tall and steady in the middle of the corridor, my expression unflinching but my hand quivering as much as my heart as my silver Patronus burst from my wand.
Draco
Stars. Draco Malfoy could see blindingly white stars bursting before his eyes as the world around him faded away, spluttering his attempt at a breath the boy looked up at these beautiful hallucinations rather than Death, standing hooded before him. His lungs were ablaze, burning away inside of him as the hand around his throat stopped them getting their much needed air, but Draco did his best to ignore this, not wanting to spend his last moments thinking about that. For once in his life he wanted to be brave, to hang here, seconds away from the end, and not to cry and scream, not that he could draw breath to scream, but to face what was to come with dignity. It was difficult though, which was why Draco was focusing on the stars, dying hurt, so much more than any physical pain Draco had experienced before, and hysteria was rising inside of him rapidly. He didn't want to go, he was too young and there was so much he hadn't had the chance to do yet, it wasn't supposed to be like this anyway, Voldemort was supposed to be the one to kill him, he hadn't even had the chance to stand up to him properly yet. Draco had though he had accepted death, he had felt that way earlier, but right now Draco knew the very idea was lunacy. He was seventeen, a month away from his next birthday, this was no age to die, he was too young, it wasn't fair, wasn't right! But he didn't have the energy to fight any more, the Dementor knew what it was doing, the lack of oxygen was already starting to weaken Draco, to shut down his faculties, and it was all Draco could do to scratch at the creature's hands, because all he felt like doing was going to sleep. Draco wouldn't let himself though, he knew how this went, knew that to sleep would be the very worst thing that he could do and he refused to do it, but still, he felt so tired, and he had been fighting so hard for so long, he just wanted to rest.
Draco saw the Dementor start to lower its hood out of the corner of his eyes, and even in his drowsy state Draco wasn't about to look at it now, keeping his eyes fixed on the stars, expanding dizzyingly above his head, he used them to keep himself grounded and his attention away from the creature that held him. Making one last ragged attempt to draw breath Draco pulled his neck up, desperately trying to turn away from the Dementor, and watched as the world swam before his eyes as the most beautiful sound in the world reached him through the fog.
"Expecto Patronum!" a wonderfully familiar voice yelled and Draco recognised it instantly, even in his slipping state, he welcomed the sound of it, even though he couldn't understand why he had heard it. Ivy.
Abruptly Draco was shocked from the slither of peace that sound had provided him with, as something with the force of a speeding train collided with the Dementor, knocking Draco's head back against the wall as the vicelike grip around his throat suddenly vanished and Draco fell to the floor. Colliding with the stone with a thud that jarred his whole body Draco was gasping for breath before he could so much as groan, hands slamming on the floor to keep him from collapsing on the flagstones Draco was choking on the sudden rush of air as he looked up the corridor and his gaze landed on the most welcome but surprising sight. Ivy stood there, bathed in silvery light as she lowered her wand and watched something over Draco's head, looking every inch the avenging angel with her sooty face, ragged clothes and blooded cuts. Never was there a sight more lovely to the enamoured blond, if he had been of the disposition he might have thought himself in heaven, but as it stood even in a state of half delirium Draco wasn't the sort to think in fairy tales, and so he knew he must still be living to be subjected to such a vision. It was Ivy, she had saved him.
Draco's heart soared with that realisation, even as a part of him knew this might not be a good thing, that Ivy still hadn't forgiven him. Sitting up Draco couldn't breathe again, his swelling heart constricting his oesophagus and making it impossible, but he didn't care, he couldn't, he felt such an incredible lightness just at the sight of her. He was still sating at Ivy like this, in awed disbelief, as a streak of silver shot down the corridor towards her, reflexively Draco's mind flew to finding his fallen wand even as he tried to pull himself to his feet, terrified that the light was a spell. But he ended his attempts when the light slowed down, and veering sharply to the left shot forwards the circle Ivy almost fondly. It wasn't the unusual show of affection on the part of her Patronus that caught and held his attention though; Draco felt his eyes widened as the misty shape finally slowed long enough for Draco to see it, to recognise its form. No, Draco thought, unable to believe what he was seeing, unwilling to consider it, surely it couldn't be. The Patronus came to a stop then, hovering beside Ivy's head it nosed her unmarred cheek tenderly, drawing a weak smile from the stubborn brunette, until her eyes shot suddenly wide and, faster than Draco could blink let alone react, Ivy crumpled to the floor, sending Draco's heart plummeting with her, and the silver ferret Patronus evaporated.
Ivy
I don't think. I never had and I never will, I just act without any consideration for the consequences, and it was catching up with me. How could I be such an idiot, it was ridiculous that I was even here now, that I had reacted so avidly to my vision; that this had felt like the only choice at the time was no excuse, I should have known better. If I'd have stayed where I was I wouldn't have put myself in this position, wouldn't have risked this kind of agony, it was a road I had travelled a lot over the past few years and one I had sworn I would never go down again, but here I was. Outwardly I showed no reaction as my ferret Patronus shot across the room, I watched it shoot towards the Dementor like a speeding bullet, colliding with the ghostly being and ramming it away from Draco, who fell to the floor and out of my line of sight. I didn't look at him, I couldn't bring myself to, but I could feel the weight of his gaze upon me, sense his attention, and a traitorous thrill of warmth shot through me even as my blood chilled at what I had done. There was no taking this back now, no changing what I had just done, I should have just left this well enough alone, now he would know. How was I going to explain this away? I wouldn't be able to, I knew that full well, I should have stayed with my friends and just dealt with the consequences. But you saved him, the words echoed from that closed off part of my heart I dared not even think of, he's still alive, yes, I agreed somewhat savagely, but I might just have to kill him now because of what he had seen.
Hating this I lowered my wand, and unable to deny the urge any longer my gaze flicked quickly to Draco and then back to my Patronus as banished the Dementor. Draco hadn't turned away from me, I could see that he was still watching but knew it was too much to hope that he hadn't seen, that my Patronus had passed by his notice, it had been the thing to save him after all. Wanting to growl and rake my hand through my hair and the injustice and humiliation of this, I refrained but scowled deeply, unable to believe I had been so stupid as to forget. He had to know what this meant, he had to, Draco was vain like that, the Patronus could have been something as random as a llama and he would have attributed it to himself, and now he would actually think that I had feelings for him, not that this was something I couldn't change. The very most that I could hope for was that it disappeared before Draco saw it again, or that he was dense enough not to connect the dots, personally I didn't hold out much hope for either as the latter was just wishful thinking and the former was proved impossible. The Dementor gone my little ferret scampered excitedly through the air before it spotted me, standing a good distance away, and then, quick as a shot, it zipped through the air towards me, spiralling around me before it came to a stop right next to my head. Sniffing audibly in my ear the spectral rodent pressed its nose against my skin in a way that I begrudgingly admitted was sweet, drawing a smile to my lips in spite of everything. It, was glad to see me at least.
Draco was watching, I didn't need to look or to be as attuned to him as I was to know that, it was obvious, what else was he going to do, and now it was only a matter of time before he put two and two together and came up with his own twisted version of four, the reality of the situation but not the truth. Yes my Patronus was a ferret, I thought, keeping my gaze pointedly away from the boy collapsed on the floor, and that was because of Draco, but it wasn't because I loved him or even liked the guy, it was because he had hurt and betrayed me, this was my soul's reaction to what he had done to me last year, nothing more. The desire to turn pulled at me as I stood there, my gaze fixed upon the silvery ferret rather than the real one in front of me. The need I felt to look at him was as intense as it was unwelcome, but I wasn't the same girl I was last year, and I certainly wasn't going to make the same mistakes, I would ignore him whatever it took. It hurt, there was no saying that it didn't, to disregard him after I had been so worried, after I had ran all the way up here to save him it was more than difficult, it was almost impossible, it took every ounce of my willpower but it was energy well spent. Or so it had seemed. My every sense, every bit of strength, was focused on distancing myself from the blond who was just out of my reach, just like he had always been, the one thing on this Earth that could be my downfall, truly and completely. And lost completely within the need to protect myself I was completely unprepared for what came next. There was no warning, no telling symptoms, this vision hit me like a gun shot, shocking my system and actually pulling a gasp from my lips as I arched my back against the jolt, feeling it rebound off every single nerve, every sensor, and stunning me completely. There was nothing else, no dizziness or sickness, only the sensation of my legs giving way beneath me as I fell and the slightest hint of an otherworldly breeze across my brain as the darkness rose up to meet me.
My vision was violent, a shocking flash of blinding light, there was no numb blackness to ease me into the future, as soon as my eyes had closed they were open again, wide and defined, taking in every little detail as I gazed out into this new scene. Neville, a crowd of furious Hogwartians standing defiantly behind him, stood bold and firm before an unseen enemy, his expression one of deep, disgusted hatred and his busted lips curled in revulsion. But before I could do anything else, before I could reach out and try and see who it was Neville faced, this scene was snatched away from me, roughly, leaving my mind reeling from the shock, and with the transition of another blinding white flash, replaced by another. I was running, panting heavily as I raced up a spiralling staircase, determination powering my exhausted steps and feeling the pull of what I sought, which was tantalisingly close as I reached the landing of the headmasters office. However once more what I was seeing was pulled away from me, yanked out of sight before I could see any more, and with another brilliant flash a new scene exploded before my Inner Eye. It lasted barely a second, and was nothing more than disjoined images, but I saw what I needed to, I watched as Neville pulled a long, ruby encrusted sword from inside a hat, the Sorting Hat, and then the vision jumped forwards in time, I felt the movement and watched as Neville swung the sword, severing the head of the great snake Nagimi. One of Voldemort's Horcruxes. The scene was once again ripped away then, and though I desperately wanted to hold onto it, I had no say in the matter and with the brightest flash yet another scene played out before my eyes, I was still running but I had made it into the headmasters office, and I watched from my own eyes as I raced across the room towards a small glass cabinet, one which housed the slumping Sorting Hat. I felt a thrill of anticipation rush through me as I paused at the sight of it, before I took off again, running towards the hat, my hand outstretched.
I landed back in the present with such shocking finality that I actually cringed at the imagined impact. Taking a gasping breath, as though I had just surfaced from underwater, my eyes shot wide and I could only stare up at the ceiling as I spluttered my breaths and tried to calm my thundering heart. Though my body was recovering my brain had no such luxury, the gravity of what I had seen was buzzing through my head and a sense of duty and fear descended upon me as I thought over the vision. It was Neville; he was the one who would kill Nagimi, that was what I had been shown and why the others hadn't succeeded yet, because it was supposed to be him. Unease trickled through me steadily, even though that thought should have been a relief, it wasn't going to be as easy as that, I was still connected enough with my Second Sight to sense as much, and nothing was ever simple anyway. In order to kill Nagimi Neville would need to sword of Gryffindor which he would acquire through the Sorting Hat, my vision had made that quite plain, however, how was he going to pull that sword from the hat if it was trapped in a box in Snape's office? The answer to that was simple, he wouldn't, not if I didn't do something, and fast. I had no idea when Neville would confront the mammoth snake, but I would make sure he had what he needed for when he did. With that decision I felt myself begin to settle, my heart slowed is rapid pace in my chest and my breathing evened somewhat, but more than that I came all the way back down to Earth, leaving my thoughts behind for now I felt the warm presence of hands on me, one resting against the side of my head and the other on my arm, and realised that I wasn't laying on the floor.
Panicking I shifted in the oddly soothing grip, a sentiment that vanished the second the hands tightened on me and I looked up. My heart, just recovering from the strain my vision put my body under, damn near stopped in my chest at the sight that greeted me. I lay there, completely stunned on Draco's lap, looking up into his tightly pinched face, his stone-like gaze flickering over me almost franticly and his lips pressed into a tight line. Breathless I could do nothing but stare at him, taking him in and trying to get over what an impressive sight he made, completely mesmerised by his presence because of and in spite of my refusal to look at him earlier. There really was something about him, I thought mindlessly, something I couldn't quite put my finger on that drew me to him like a moth to a flame, something captivating that radiated from within that was simply irresistible. Horrified I stopped my thoughts right there, and shot upright so quickly that Draco had to lean back to avoid a head-butt.
"Let go of me," I said, my voice irritatingly husky as quickly moved to get away from him, pulling myself from his grip and stumbling to my feet before he could do anything to stop me. I had to go, and not just because of Neville, I had to put some distance between myself and him or I was likely to do something stupid.
"Ivy-" Draco started to say, his voice a plea as he followed me with his gaze, I turned my back on him, not wanting to see the lies in his expression, at least the last time I had been under the illusion, this time I saw right through it.
"Don't," I said quickly, cutting him off, "don't say anything, I saved your life, the very least you owe me is that you leave me alone." I snapped, balling my hands into fists and suddenly very aware of the absence of my wand, damn, I must have dropped it when I had my vision and had left it on the floor beside Draco.
I felt him getting up behind me, could practically sense his hot breath on my neck and his frustration before I even heard his voice, "I'm not leaving," Draco said, his voice as firm as mine had been, "you fainted-"
"It was just a vision!" I exclaimed, shooting my words over my shoulder and hardly able to bear the false concern in his voice, I wanted him gone, and I wanted that now. "You needn't concern yourself."
"When it concerns you it concerns me," Draco said with a quiet but insistent vehemence, I turned at his words, my arms folded across my chest and my expression hard as what he said resounded within me.
"That time has passed don't you think?" I asked, my voice merciless and scathing but I couldn't have cared less, "you don't need to pretend you're my friend to get information from me anymore, so what happens to me is nothing to do with you, unless your master still needs me alive so he can torture secrets from me?"
"Ivy, I-" he started, his blue eyes seeming wide and sincere but I wouldn't allow myself to think on that, there wasn't an honest bone in his body, I'd been completely under his spell once and I wasn't going back there.
"I said don't!" I injected, cutting his short and turning to look away from him, unable to stand the expression he wore and what it was almost doing to me. Why had I done this? I should have just left him and spared myself the heartache.
"Will you let me finish?" Draco exclaimed, losing his composure and hearing his annoyance I looked up at him, determined to drive him away with how difficult I really could be.
"No," I virtually hissed, though I had been going for an air of cold indifference which I somehow managed to adopt when I next spoke, "if I remember rightly I've said this to you once before," Draco made a move to interrupt me there but raising my voice I spoke over anything he might have said, "but, since you've got such a bad memory I will repeat it, there is nothing you can say to me that I want to hear." I told him, feeling the lack of the necessary emotions to back up my words even as I spoke them so convincingly. Now look who's lying, the haunting thought drifted through my mind but I shook it off.
Draco balked, his mask of barely restrained frustration slipping to reveal a deeper hurt I chose to ignore, it wasn't real. Unable to stand being here a second longer, and fighting the barrage of emotions assaulting me that ranged from fury at his audacity, to hurt at what he had done to me, to a deep and terrifying relief that he was okay. Seething and trying to ignore the softer emotions trying to sway me from my anger, I wrapped my arms tightly around my body, spotted my wand laying on the floor behind Draco and being careful not to come remotely close to touching him, walked around the angry blond. Of course, this didn't work. Draco's touch, as his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, sent sizzling waves of something I wasn't going to even entertain naming through me as he pulled my arm away from my chest and turned me to look at him. I gave him a repugnant stare despite the way his torch flared in my heart.
"You would think after a year our meetings would follow a different path," I snapped as I tried to wretch my arm from his grip but Draco refused to relinquish his hold on me. I ought not to have been surprised, he never had, not even after all this time.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice as tight as his grip.
"To pick up my wand and get the heck away from here," I answered with partial honesty, as I tried and failed again to try and throw him off.
"Why, there's a ceasefire, there's nowhere for you to go but back down to the hall? What did you See, Ivy? I know that look, there's something wrong." He insisted, his ice blue gaze hard and unrelenting as he stared down at me, but I wasn't the type to flinch under it.
"You don't know me as well as you think, Malfoy," I snapped, having enough of this now, "there's nothing wrong. And I will only warn you once," I hissed, tilting my chin back so that I was looking him right in the eyes, "if you plan on tricking some poor cow into having kids with you in the future, I recommend you let go of me."
Draco ignored my comment, disregarding it, a fact which annoyed me greatly, but since I didn't have my wand and racking him would involve actually touching him my threat was an empty one…for now. "You can tell me, Ivy, I want to help you." Draco insisted and scoffing I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, all right then, next joke please." I sneered, going to walk away from him but with his hand still on my arm he gently pulled me back.
"I mean it," he said in a voice so determined, so genuine sounding, that I might have believed him, had I not been a fool once before, "it's not good to be walking around here alone, you'll get yourself killed."
Taking great offense at that I didn't hesitate to snap back my response, "No, I don't think I will, as you so helpfully reminded me there is a ceasefire right now, and the way I see it you're the only threat around here, Death Eater."
Draco's eyes narrowed at that, and for the first time since I had stupidly rushed the save him, there was a flicker of true rage in his eyes, "Don't call me that," he told me in a deep, furious tone that didn't do a single thing to intimidate me, it only made my snort and look away, "I'm not one of them."
"Oh, well then, I must have been pissed off with a different Draco all this year, sorry, my mistake," I snapped bitingly and I watched with a distressingly low amount of satisfaction as the muscle on Draco's temple twitched, too angry and hurt to take pleasure in frustrating him.
"You are impossible at times!" Draco exclaimed, clearly losing control, "I'm trying to help you and your acting like this!"
"I wonder why that is?" I asked with heavy sarcasm, "might it have something to do with the fact that you lied to me, used me, endangered the people that I care about and joined Voldemort!"
"If you would let me explain-" Draco insisted but I wouldn't hear it.
"What is there to possibly explain? You thought that what you stood to gain from helping that monster was more important than our friendship, that's all that matters." I yelled, coming to the shocking realisation that I was starting to get hysterical, and frightened that I had given too much of my feelings away, hinted to obviously at the hurt he had caused me, I shut my mouth and folded my arms across my chest. Mercifully, Draco released me as soon as I stopped talking to wheel around and rake his hands through his hair in frustration, growling all the time before suddenly slumping with his back to me and muttering something that I couldn't hear.
Watching him for a moment, as the once proud boy, now a cracked version of what he once was, stood there, his clothes singed and tatted, his skin covered with soot, and his shoulders slumped in what was almost defeat. Taken slightly aback by this my expression was lightly wary as I slowly bent down to retrieve my wand, I couldn't stand here and argue any longer, time was of the essence and Neville needed the Sorting Hat free if he was going to kill Nagimi. But it was with a faint and strange reluctance that I rose to my feet and went to leave.
"I can help you, you know," Draco said turning back to face me and having apparently controlled whatever had bothered him so before, he now looked just as deathly serious and resolute as he had before.
"No you can't," I said, my voice calm but firm, "you never help anyone but yourself, and there's too much at stake here for me to risk your backstabbing."
"Let me prove it to you," he said, taking a purposeful step towards me and drawing his own wand in such a way that I had to stop myself from moving to defend myself, "you'll never believe a word I say, I know, you're too stubborn to, but let me show you."
"We've been here before," I told him, my tone unflinching and sure, "I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice." Draco opened his mouth as he took a step forwards, as though he was going to argue, but I didn't have the time to listen to anything else from him, I'd wasted enough time already. "Don't bother, I'm go-" my words were cut off by a gasp, the sheer force of the shock running through me forcing it from me and pulling my back up straight and my eyes wide. The world around me faded away, taking Draco and my concerns with it, rushing back and leaving only darkness as, with a jolt just as brutal as the one that had brought me here, a new scene exploded before my Inner Eye.
A battle cry was the very first thing to reach me, so impassioned and powerful that it carried across the timelines towards me before my sight could even conjure a picture. I recognised the voice instantly, but not the noise it made, this person never made such a sound, they were usually much more quiet and reserved, but like everyone else these vicious times had changed them. The outraged noise rang in my ears as my vision threw me into the future, pulling up the scene before me and landing me once more in the same rebellious crowd as before. My gaze found Neville immediately, and a wave of terrified shock went through me as I watched him charge towards Voldemort, the mysterious opponent from before, only to be thrown back with a single, demeaning wave of the vile creature's wand. Heart constricting, my breath caught in my throat as I watched Neville be thrown across the grounds and collide roughly with the muddy earth. With his impact a jolt of my own ran through me, causing me to yelp in shock as I was suddenly pulled from this place, and catapulted back to the present.
Gasping for breath I was bent over double when I came back to, only still standing because of a pair of strong hands holding me upright, pressing my palms against my knees I gulped down desperate breaths as I thought about what I had seen. The prompt wasn't lost on me, I could take a hint, my Inner Eye was telling me that I didn't have long to free the hat, it was urging me to get a move on. "I need to get to the office," I rasped, hardly even aware of what I was saying.
"The headmaster's office?" a voice above me asked and I felt my heart drop, crap, I thought, closing my eyes, just bloody brilliant.
"No," I said, trying to bring myself up right but struggling, the quick succession of my visions had took a lot out of me and my knees buckled when I tried to stand properly, and was it not for Draco's arms around me, which tightened the instant he felt me start to stagger, I would have been on the floor. Acknowledging that, even in my mind, killed me.
"You're a terrible liar, Ivy, I can always see right through you," Draco commented dryly and irritated I grit my teeth. I didn't have the time for this.
"I can get you in," Draco told me, tightening his hold around my back and on my arm as he helped me to stand upright, a deep conviction in his voice but despite that I still didn't trust him. He hadn't given me any reason to. "I know the password; I was there just this morning."
Chest heaving as I still fought to control my breathing and shook up by the sudden urgency I felt and what I had just seen, a spiteful no was on the edge of my lips but something stopped me, pulling me up short and making me reconsider. I didn't want Draco around me, every second in his presence made me feel unsure of myself, gave me doubts I really didn't need as I wondered how much of what he said and did was genuine and what was a lie to get him what he wanted, he unsettled me. But I didn't have the time to argue with him either, this was life or death, I could feel it in my bones, this had to happen and I couldn't let anything stop it, not even my own feelings.
"Fine," I agreed, scraping my hair back from my damp forehead with one violent movement before standing upright, forcing myself to do so, and taking a step away from the man who had supported me. Draco looked shocked, clearly having expected me to put up a fight, to refuse his help and make a scene, but I wasn't going to do that, I had changed since the time when he had known me; I wasn't the same girl any more. "This is bigger than us, Draco," I told him in a firm, unflinching voice, "it always was. My personal feelings have no place here, I'll do what needs to be done to stop him, and if that means working with you then so be it." I said, a cold power to my voice that didn't coincide with my true emotions, but that didn't matter now.
"But," I said, a threat chillingly evident in my voice as I took one purposeful step towards him and gripped hold of his collar, pulling it tightly, "betray me again and I'll finish what that Dementor started." I hissed before releasing the stunned Death Eater and taking a step back.
"I won't make the same mistake twice," Draco told me, repeating my own words as he stood up a little taller, unfazed by my threat and straightened his clothes.
Eyeing him, not entirely sure of what to make of this, I straightened up to my full height as well, feeling the need to keep pace with him and to not let him dominate, though to be honest dominant was the last thing Draco looked. What am I doing? I asked myself, half exasperated half disgusted as I watched warily while Draco turned to face sideways, the direction we would have to go to reach the Headmasters Office. "Isn't this supposed to be urgent?" he asked me when I didn't move, raising a pale eyebrow at my quizzically.
Scowling at him I turned and started off down the corridor without him, "Don't get sarci with me." I muttered, holding my head high as picking up my speed as Draco hurried along beside me, partly out of my desperation to help Neville, and partly because I wanted to mess with my unwanted companion. He kept my pace easily though, I blamed it on his unnaturally long legs, suddenly very aware of his presence beside me, feeling him with every sense I possessed, I made sure to keep my eyes straight ahead and my mind fixed firmly on what I had to do. But he was THERE, right beside me, so close that I felt the charge off his skin, could hear his slightly laboured breath from when the Dementor had attacked him, and could smell the scent of his sharp clean aftershave, it played havoc with me. Merlin help me, I was going to regret this big time.
Author note: Honestly, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, it was so good to have these two having an actual conversation *cough* Argument *cough*, and I hope you guys enjoyed it too. Right, this chapter is kind of a present today, for both myself and for you all because it's my birthday, which is why I really wanted to update :) It's good that I can have this chapter up today as I've been looking forward to it ever since I ended 'Seeing'.
Anonymous reviews:
Callie C: Thank you, I know, I know, I'm terribly cruel with my endings, hopefully I create some suspense. Aww, thank you, I'm glad you liked that line it was a particular favourite of mine.