The Unity of Opposites
Chapter Thirty Eight
Damien
The opened window of the house he grew into was framing a field of sunflowers, the kind he used to run into with his cousin, scratching his naked arms against their cores and laughing when he would get lost, hearing Silas's agonized screams, the kind he used to shout when he cut his flesh, when he took his eyes out of his face and placing them in his pockets, when he ended his life and marked his. God, he loved those sunflowers. If someone could unspell the domed illusion of the forest surrounding this house, revealing its beauty to the rest of the world, he would stay here forever, live his life as it had been planned all along in his head, having him by his side, never intending to leave.
Soon, he thought and filled his lungs with a patience, never letting his mind unfocused from the goal ahead. He pushed back his black shiny hair, feeling them lean against his hand - soon, he promised himself and thought of his hand in his. He smiled to himself. So many years flew away like autumn leaves and he still was there, fighting to fix what he had witnessed back then.
The chain he had placed around her ankle sound. He didn't mind her there, he wanted to have someone seeing him disappearing from this time and reappearing years ahead, with the love of his life sitting next to him and not lying cold six feet under with a headstone as a reminding of the life that was taken away from him, leaving a void in Damien's life that could not be replaced by no one - a living void, a slowly life-sucking emptiness desperately trying to make him lay six feet under as well. How could one ever survive this emptiness when the cupid fruit had been offered? His hand touched his chest, wanting to feel the locket he once wore prideful with the picture of Johey in it, now missing - the sound of her chain made his jaw tightened - it was all her fault. He cursed the moment he allowed himself to fall for her charm, the moment he followed her to that hotel, the moment he drank the offered poisonous whiskey that made his senses lost. How could she even say she knew what he wanted? Where did she find this nerve and dare to consider she knew him? She knew nothing, she understood nothing.
The image of his dead father came to his mind when a light breeze caressed the back of his neck, but he reminded himself to not care about him or his fucking life - who was he to mourn a man who let him suffer? How could he be called a father when he just thought about himself the whole time? He wanted to laugh with the idea of him being guilty of everything that had happened - his father was a cold-hearted man, wanting nothing more than his own peace.
He took a sip from the tea he had made only for himself and not for that chained bitch. The portrait of the Nehones was placed on top of the cold fireplace, the eyes of his crazy aunt were looking down on him with adoration, as the depressed, drunk eyes of his uncle were simply looked him with a forced pride, recognize him as his own. Yes, he was his own - he had even replaced his eyes with his cousins's to match the family perfectly, feeling ashamed for the hazel coloured eyes he had inherited from his mother. A snort found its way out of his lips. His mother - that fucking whore who dared to abandon him with his father who was another fucking whore. He had overheard him once telling how big mistake Damien's birth was - he was talking with his uncle years after they had arrived in Dovedale when Horatio asked about Damien's mother. She was a witch that left him after his birth - something Molly Weasley will never have done. He told himself to never think about the brief moment he spent under her care, not because he enjoyed it, but mostly because he didn't want to know how a proper mother treats her son.
Everyone in his life had proved to be unworthy. Everyone was simply too little for him. From his whore of a mother, to the shameful name of his father - everyone were not worthy of his time.
The chain sounded again. He had given her a coat, one he had taken off his dead aunt's closet, not from the goodness of his heart, but knowing how it would look like in the eyes of Draco Malfoy, if something happened to her. The morning lights started to colour up the sky in front of him, and he clenched his teeth, wanting no light. Five years in his cell it was enough to make his eyes hate everything shiny - except for the Heather's Stone, well, it might as well as renamed into Damien's Stone and not Heather's because when that pathetic boyfriend comes, he will unlock that bitch's spell and hold the power inside the stone as if it was his all along.
Soon, he thought and smiled to himself, filling his lungs with patience and wanted glory, the kind he will feel the moment his life starts over.
''Did Warlock help you escape?'' her broken voice made him roll his eyes, wanting to forget his desire to choke the life out of her and throw her lifeless body in a cliff so no one could find her, no one could mourn her, no one could bury her and let her soul rest. He smiled with the idea. Should he say to her how much she was hated by others too? Well, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he couldn't say he hated her, he simply hated what she had done to him - maybe she did deserve the planned death.
''He wants you dead.'' he spoke, never letting his eyes fall from the picture of his favourite sunflowers as the morning light covered them more and more and the warmth of the May sun started to reveal like freshly blossomed flowers. He took one of the wands and cast another cooling spell. ''What have you done to him, I wonder.'' he broke the wand in half, throwing it in the flameless fireplace. She wanted to comment on how many wands he had, but she didn't, mostly because she didn't care.
''Nothing, I have done nothing.'' she tried to defend herself, reminding what Draco had said about Warlock and the Golden Trio, his idea now actually sounded like a valid one.
''Then why bother setting me free.'' he finally turned around and she found herself crawling towards the wall and resting her back, hugging her knees more. He looked at her in a matter-of-factly way, making her stomach hurt. ''Warlock is an idiot old man with a sickening mind.'' he walked to her slowly, hiding a hand behind his back. ''He believes he is a leader that swine.'' he snorted, watching her rest her head on her knees.
''What did he promise you in return for my death?'' she asked in a low voice, not wanting to meet his eyes.
''You don't know?'' he laughed, ''I thought you talked to my father.'' she rose her head, watching the Heather's Stone. ''That I took by myself, it wasn't easy, but it did it.'' he smirked and hid his other hand behind his back. ''He promised me the Document of Truth from Eartha's trail. The one picturing Silas as their son and not me, the one saying about his return and not mine, the one Lucius had and not Warlock.'' the smirk didn't leave from his face. ''How kids call it these days; I have been played.'' he spoke in disgust, watching her hide her face again.
''And you stole Calluna because of it.'' she spoke and sighed at the realization.
''Of course!'' the theatrical in his voice made her shiver, ''I called you that night, remember?'' he asked and she rose her head, watching him smiling. She felt her whole body shivering, the hair behind her neck rising as the memory of someone calling her name that night came to her mind. It was the night she found the rose, the night her story begun. ''I should have taken you that day.'' he complained, nodding too many times, ''It sure could save me the trouble.'' he pointed at the pile of Weasley clothing line in one of the corners in the room and her eyes widened.
To her left there was the book he had stolen from Lucius Malfoy's personal vault - it made her frown and wonder if it was here all along, or if he had brought it in the room the moment his poisonous illusion got her. ''Is that the reason you killed him? Lucius?'' she asked and heard him laughing, but it was a fake laugh, a forced one that made her notice the small frown on his face, and for the first time in their relationship, the worry in his eyes. ''You were afraid of him, weren't you.'' she realized and turned to see his features harden. She smiled, shaking her head, not believing there was a single person in this world that Damien Nehone feared. ''You were so much older than him and you were afraid - ''
''He had a Time Turner Hermione! The original Time Turner!'' he tried to defend himself, but she smiled more. ''Do you know how many times he stopped me? How many times I faced him?'' he snorted, finding his teeth clenching again, his nostrils opening wide allowing more air to breath in. ''That gawky had it coming!'' his nails deepened inside his palm, making him relax and notice the confusion in her eyes. ''What?''
''I knew a different Lucius Malfoy.'' she confessed with a bitter voice and a confused gaze that soon changed, ''Did you - did you ask Voldemort to target Lucius Malfoy?'' she asked in horror, watching him snort again.
''Voldemort.'' he mocked the name and she frowned. ''How pathetic he was with that nickname!'' he shook his head, taking his time to walk towards the book and take it in his hands. ''I simply point him their status in the World.'' he turned his head to her, offering a charming smile, but she was waiting an answer and he knew it. He rolled his eyes, walking fast to the tall table with the Stone in it. His jaw tightened and he felt angry all of the sudden - if that bastard had told him where the rest of the book was, none of it would have happened - he wouldn't have to wait like a horny mistress a child to come with it in search of the love of his life, he wouldn't have to spend time with the saint Weasleys, he wouldn't have to be bothered and returned in Dovedale with her. He turned his hand into a fist, watching the fake words. ''I killed him because he wouldn't tell me where the rest of the book is!'' he yelled as the yellow pages of the book urged him to tear it apart. ''He thought I was an idiot!'' he grabbed the book and walked fast to her. ''Do you know the only thing left untouched from that arsehole's dare is a slowing time spell?'' he pointed at her for more than a second, waiting for her to read it. ''He was a joke to any respectful Pureblood. I did the world a favour.''
''You aren't Pureblood.'' she made her observation and with a sudden move, he closed the book and slapped her, making her gasp. ''Don't like the truth - ''
''Stop pretending you know me.'' he warned and walked away, gently letting the book next to the Stone, admiring the way it was resting inside its broken cage. ''Why are you not afraid for your life?'' he asked her and turned around to see her curling her arms tighter around her legs.
''I don't care about my life, as long as Draco is safe.'' there was a relief in her voice that made him feel sad in a way he had never thought possible. She frowned, watching his eyes falling from her.
''Wouldn't you do the same if your lover was gone? Wouldn't you want to find him again, and live your life without repeating the old mistakes?'' he asked her and sat on the covered in white sheet sofa some inches away from the Stone. ''I know how you feel about Draco Malfoy, because I feel the same for my Johey.'' he looked at his hands on top of his legs and found himself sigh at the memory of his sweet face. ''I wanted to run away with him, continue our shared lives through hardship or adversity, but I lost him, forever.'' he tightened his jaw, watching her eyes falling from his in a rush. ''Aren't you going to tell me I am wrong?''
''I cannot tell you if you are right or wrong.'' she almost whispered, fighting back her need to cry. ''I know what is like to fear for the lives of your loved ones. I know how much pain their lose can bring you.'' she felt a tear running down her cheek, salting her skin. ''If something happens to Draco, I - '' her voice broke and her lips met more tears. The idea of him gone simply made her feel a void inside of her, a void she had never felt before. She rushed to remind herself that he is safe, for the moment, a voice warned her and she looked at the ring on her finger. She shouldn't have worn it, she shouldn't risk it. More tears ran down her face, but no sound escaped her lips. She thought of him, his smile, his eyes, his warmth against her body and she smiled to herself, wondering if Damien had ever felt those things with Johey. ''I don't think you really want to reset your time for him. I believe you feel regret and guilt for his death.'' she said at last, never meeting his eyes.
He snorted, standing up from the sofa and walking to the opened window. Even if he didn't want to admit it, she was correct - his deepest desire was the Nehone name, having Johey by his side was simply the cherry on top. The day he had found Johey again played like a tape in his mind - it was 1951, his wife had died, his child had died, he was alone, so was Damien. He had returned in Dovedale because of him, offering him to run away. He was still grieving, who wouldn't, but he accepted his offer, he used his favourite polyjuice potion on him, telling him it was safer and smarter. ''Horatio had a flying carpet.'' he spoke and looked at the morning lights disgusted. On a day like this, he had lost him. ''Those things are forbidden for a reason.'' he looked at his feet and straightened his back after a second.
''You - you killed him?'' her voice sounded in a yell, making him turn around and see her shocked face. ''You killed the man you say you love?'' she stood up, watching him narrowing his eyes.
''It was an accident!'' he yelled back, taking big steps towards her. ''He fell when we wanted to run away - ''
''You left his soulless body in the woods to be eaten - '' he slapped her again, this time making her nose bleed. ''You're an arsehole!'' she yelled, punching him in the face, slowly getting angrier and angrier with herself, realizing how wrong she had acted and came here alone. He pushed her against the wall, wrapping his hands around her wrists, hearing her crying harden with every passing minute.
He shushed her, placing his head next to hers and caressed his face in her hair, reminding the action of a loving cat. ''Somnum.'' he ordered and she lost her senses, her body falling down the floor like a lifeless doll.
ΛVΛ
He was sleeping on top of her. His head rested below her chest, both arms at her sides, never letting her go. She smiled at his relaxed face and ran her fingers across his neck more than once, until he smiled. ''Are you watching me while I sleep?'' his husky voice vibrated her torso. She giggled like a teenage girl who fell in love for the first time, and she let the book she was reading aside, wrapping her arms around his big shoulders, taking in his scent. She caressed him a little, feeling his warmth through his dark t-shirt. ''If you wake me to seduce me, there is a price to pay.'' she giggled again, watching him rest his upper weight on his elbows and meeting her shy eyes. ''You are so beautiful.'' he smiled, making himself much more comfortable between her legs and raising her blouse higher, letting small kisses on her stomach. She sighed and put her hands on his face, stopping him. ''Are you happy?'' he asked, not even frowning at her crying face as the memory Nehone was using against her ended up with her saying yes, with a wide smile and a fast beating heart that now had been replaced with tears, cold skin and chest pain.
''Draco I love you.'' she caressed his face, saying in time what she had never said before and probably will never have the chance to say. Her hug emptied completely, and the illusion faded away.
''You bore me.'' he complained and rolled his eyes. She looked around to see the same living room, the same tall man standing in front of the Stone, the same cold waves running circles and chilling everything in their path. ''You used to be fun, now only seek for him.'' he sighed and close the book of Primis Lamia.
She covered her ears with her hands, feeling them blowing from the illusion he created. A strong headache was keeping her mind from concentrate longer than a second. She felt her whole body hurting - it had been twenty four hours since he started to torturing her with illusions - her muscles were sore and there was a certain pain in her chest, the kind she felt the moment she saw Draco bleeding some days ago - she was tired. She wanted to sleep, to eat, to feel some warmth. She was getting weaker and weaker by the minute and he knew it. If he could pat himself on the shoulder and say good job he would - her pale skin and red eyes was simply everything he wanted to brag about at the moment.
Afternoon light bathed the room as the sun started to disappear, filling the endless space around her with a wild nameless energy. Cowardly, he started to feel like the old days, those he spent at home, with the books his uncle gave him, feeding his hungry appetite for the world he left to crave. Those days he felt powerful as his plan was being ordered, as his life was starting to have meaning again - who could ever tell him he will be standing in the house that bitch of an aunt designed and built?
Soon, he promised to himself, knowing how much money and real estate they had left unused after their deaths. A smile curled his face only to be gone at the sound of her chain. He felt bothered by her presence here, but yet again, he did want an audience, he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to start his life without a witness knowing his story and maybe speak it to someone.
He knew Hermione will not be that witness, but until the Malfoy heir will come, she was his only living being around here - ''What will he do if I kill you?'' he asked her out of the blue and looked at her curled body over his shoulder. ''What will he do to me?'' he wondered, this time asking himself and not her. The bruise around her ankle caught his attention - that light purple colour with the yellow and red shades perfectly circling her skin, almost reminding him the same colour his dead cousin Silas had when they found him.
''Draco is not going to come.'' she hugged her legs tighter, feeling sadder, lonelier at the hearing of the words. ''And you are not going to kill me.'' she rose her head and saw him turning around all of the sudden. ''I am your last hope to reset your life - ''
''So he won't mind?'' he looked down on her, there was a bruise on her cheek, a small scratch on the other - he felt a bit proud of the way she was looking, in pain and in need for saving, like all the other women he's been with. He ran his fingers through her face, noticing how cold she was. ''I had forgotten how beautiful you are.'' he traced her lips, putting a finger in her mouth and pushing down her tongue. ''Does he enjoy your lips?'' he narrowed his eyes, moving his thumb inside her mouth, ''I bet he does.'' he smirked and pushed her head against the wall.
He knelt in front of her and watched the disgust in her eyes, making him smirk more if that was possible. She grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand off her face, hearing him laugh. She should be feeling weak against him, but this moment, she felt just as equally strong as him. He made a sound and forced her to look him in the eye.
''We never finished what we started.'' he said and watched her body curling even more. She moved her head away from him when he tried to caress her again and he put both his hands on top of her knees. ''You had the softest skin, softer than those Purebloods girls with daddy issues and low standards. It feels expensive under the right touch, like coarse silk.'' he ran his fingers on her calf, feeling her cold skin pleasant. An appreciative smile shown on his face and she looked at him disgusted. ''Don't worry, I don't like things other men touched.'' he whispered in her ear and stood up, his knees sounded as he did so.
She wrapped her arms tighter around her legs, feeling some tears running down her cheeks, as the idea of him touching her last made her stomach hurt. The cold spotless marble floors somehow managed to calm her mind as their pattern was so simple, so familiar, so perfectly placed in order that almost look fake. She asked herself if he had created yet another illusion to mess with her head - ''Where are we?'' she asked, even though she knew.
He laughed and walked back to the opened window. ''In the house I grew up!'' he threw his hands in the air, watching the beautiful field of sunflowers. ''Here I grew up, I learned, I - ''
''Killed.'' she heard him laughing again.
''To be honest, I never killed anyone in this - no, no, I did. How could I forget?'' he turned around to see her surprise face. ''I did kill someone in this house, can you guess? Can you?'' he asked and sighed at the way she looked so hurt. ''I killed Eathra, but it wasn't my fault.'' he faked every single expression in his face and he put a hand on top of his stomach, ''I feel much better telling you - '
''Why would you kill an innocent woman - ''
''Innocent?'' he laughed, ''Eathra was a psychotic bitch - ''
''The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.'' she held her knees tighter around her, resting her forehead on top of them.
He smiled for her bravery, applauding her nerve and dare for what she had said. For the briefest moment she felt proud for her sharp tongue, mind, attitude - there were no women like her in the world. He waited for her to raise her head, but she didn't. He focused his eyes to his sunflowers again, breathing in the cold air in the room. ''If you had met her, your opinion would have been different.'' he shrugged and looked at her over his shoulder. ''Do you know how she became famous in your precious little world? She used the Emperio Curse on artists she found on the streets, in small galleries - ''
''That doesn't give you the right to kill her!'' she rose her head and looked at him with angry eyes, ''Or anyone else!''
''She wasn't a saint! The only one who worth living in his life was my uncle Horation! That man was so pure, could easily make me throw up.'' he started to laugh, ''That killed him actually!'' he laughed with his own joke, making her frown.
''And how you killed Eathra?'' she asked, taking a big breath.
''I choke her. I did. I am not ashamed if that's what you are trying to find - '' his lips turned into a smile, never taking his eyes off the beautiful picture he was witnessing. ''Do you know why my cousin tried to drown me?'' he asked, but it was a rhetorical question, ''My beloved aunt promised him a present if he managed to entertain her enough.'' he straightened his back, feeling pressure from the conversation. ''And when he failed, she simply smiled to him and never called him son again.''
''What did she say when you killed her son and draw a portrait of him - ''
''Did my father leave anything to cover up the mystery I created for myself?'' he sighed and she knew he was starting to feel cornered from the conversation - she smiled to herself and thanked God he wasn't looking her. If she could pester him a bit longer, he would crack - she just needed some more time. ''She held my hand and thanked me.'' he broke her thoughts and smiled to himself. ''I think she wanted me to do it.''
''Did she want you to kill Johey as well?'' she asked and he turned around, angrily looking at her. ''Did she thank you for killing - ''
''Do not take his name in your filthy mouth!'' he pointed at her with a wand he grabbed from the table. ''I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't mean to lose him! It was - ''
An audible ear-splitting, riotous sound vibrated the whole building, as if there was an earthquake, a big one, a strong one, with the very epicentre under their feet - a magic wave busted inside the room from the opened window, throwing Damien in the air and landing his tall body on top of a table that broke at once. She yelled, feeling another magical wave in a form of warm, end-of-spring air brutally storm in the room, vibrating the bricks and shaking every hanged painting. She covered her head, fearing the old, quaking now house might fall on their heads. She yelled again, this time in frustration as the strong magic passing through her body, making her fall to her side and curl her body completely - the chain broke, disappearing in thousands small pieces, healing her bruised ankle and scratches on her face, unspelling every single cooling spell and turning to dust every paint Eathra Nehone had stolen from its owner using magic.
A hard laugh sounded in great distance and she watched Damien stand against the magical wind, some blood running down his right ear, his blazer was left unbuttoned. She screamed at him to stay away from the windows as another magical wave busted inside the house, filling the whole floor with thousand of pieces of glass - she opened her eyes to see him walking to the nearest window, laughing and extended his arms in the air. She tried to wonder why, but the deafening sound disappeared as fast as it came, taking every single thought away from her mind. Sparkles and ashes started to fall from the sky, reminding burned snow - she tried to focus her heavy eyes outside where lights that almost reminding the sun started to fall down, revealing enormous trees, thick, green leaves and grass.
He was talking to her, but her ears were blowing - she tried to keep her eyes open, she tried to find some strength and stand up, but she couldn't. She felt her mind drifting away, her muscles relax, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and lost her senses, moments before he pulled her up, dragging her unconscious body to the window.
''He is here.'' he whispered in her ear, not watching the tear fall down her cheek. He laughed again, letting her motionless body fall on the floor. ''Finally.'' he said to himself as his eyes met Draco Malfoy.
