Chapter Playlist:
I See You : MISSOA
Only : RY X
White Blank Page : Mumford & Sons
Not About Angels : Birdy
O Children : Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
I'm Not Yours : Angus & Julia Stone
Draco hadn't considered this outcome amongst the multiple other onslaught of possibilities when it came to what he thought Hermione would do after she was reunited with her helpless duo. What he had expected was something similar to the impending collapse of his sanity when she decided she'd be better off fumbling her way through the war as Potter's brilliant sidekick, leaving him to plummet into an abyss of madness and desolate disappointment; (which was only a tad more dramatic than necessary, but true all the same)
Which was perhaps why, after she kissed him into a state of mind-numbing ecstasy and eventually slowed their pace long enough to catch their breath, he was equally as unable to process her request thereafter.
Stay… she had whispered… just a while longer.
Those words settled something inside Draco, knowing she desired to remain in his arms, that she found even the slightest bit of comfort with him, causing his inner turmoil to settle, if only briefly; though, as good things often did for Draco, it was no to last; his unrelenting need for clarity forced him to break the blissful, perfect silence they had created in the moments following his confession.
As he shifted slightly beneath her, the cheek she had laying peacefully his racing heartbeat lifted, bringing her dazed expression to his and frowning as he ruined what was quite possible his favorite moment of his short and miserable existence.
He cleared his throat then, dreading the question almost as much as he was dreading her answer.
As she shifted onto her side he was increasingly aware of how effected he was with her presence, and he was no longer able to ignore his need for clarity... the infuriatingly delicious reminder came from the delicate tracing of her finger across his forearm, the light pressure of her fingertips on his skin, teasing him and his racing thoughts further…
He needed to ask the question before she completely obliterated his ability to even form a coherent thought that didn't involve her lips on his, her body beneath his, her whispers across his skin—
"So what happens now?" He blurted out.
Hermione considered the anxiousness growing over his features. She felt his fingers grip a little tighter around her waist, mirroring the tightness in her chest; though Hermione wasn't ready to wake up from this strange new reality she found herself in... a reality where Draco Malfoy kissed her like her lips were the only things that mattered. With that thought, she felt an odd jolt of courage, a daringness that she hadn't realized she possessed before kissing Draco. With a playful smirk on her lips, she sat up and lifted her leg over him so that she was straddling him.
"What happens now…" she trailed off as she lifted her hands to wrap in his hair and lowered her mouth to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, "…is entirely up to you."
Draco smirked as she pulled back, eyes trailing down to where their hips met and back to her face, "Careful Granger, may want to reconsider that statement or I may never let you leave this room—"
Hermione rolled her eyes, though Draco didn't miss the blush rising to her cheeks. "I only meant that it's entirely up to you what happens now that Harry and Ron are here."
"Ah…" He said, sitting up to lean against the headboard, keeping his hands on her hips to steady her.
"You managed to stop hating me…" Hermione shrugged, gently trailing her hands from his shoulders to his chest. "...maybe after spending some time together it will be the same with them."
Draco snorted, gripping her hips firmly to his. "The exact same, huh? —expecting me to snog Potter too then?"
"Very funny." She giggled, playfully shoving his shoulder.
"Besides…" He brought one hand behind her head, pulling her lips to his for a brief kiss. "I don't think I ever truly hated you."
Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing back to give him a pointed look. "Are you certain you aren't ill? You seem to be having some difficulties remembering our past. As I recall you wished me dead during second year—"
Her sentence was abruptly stopped short, instead a small squeal escaped her as she felt her body being lifted and she landed firmly on her back, both of his hands pinning her wrists above her head.
"You were forbidden territory, Granger. I couldn't have you." He leaned down to press soft kisses along her neck, causing her eyes to flutter shut. "I was an immature—" his lips found her ear, "selfish—" then his tongue, "arrogant—" his teeth, "prick who was used to getting what he wanted, but never you..."
Hermione heard herself let out a soft sigh as his lips trailed down her throat. She knew she should be responding to him, saying something along the lines of 'that doesn't excuse you being a complete arse' or something equally as swotty, but his lips on her neck made her think it could wait.
"Now that I think about... it I can't believe it took you as long as it did to finally get around to hitting me in the face—"
Hermione smiled at that opening her eyes to see him smirking down at her. She was grateful her words hadn't upset him and as she looked at him now she thought she noticed something was different. She felt an openness radiating from him, like the shields around his mind, concealing his emotions were missing completely.
"Trust me, I thought about it."
"Oh?" He lifted a brow, "—and when you thought of me were you alone… in the bed perhaps, late at night— ?"
Hermione smacked his shoulder, frowning up at him, "Absolutely not!"
He sighed, "Just me then…"
"Wait, are you saying that you...?"
Draco rolled off of her then, shrugging as he brought one arm behind his head to stare up at the ceiling. "Forbidden territory, Granger— I was a teenage boy, what do you think?"
Hermione bit her lip, her entire body suddenly feeling very warm. She heard him laugh and it only increased her embarrassment. As if sensing this, he pulled her into his chest again, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his side.
"I hated myself for it after, of course." He admitted, placing his chin on top of her head.
"Why?" She asked, her voice sounding very, very small. She felt him tense slightly beneath her before letting out a sigh.
"I don't know…. I guess because after I would see you in the library, or pass you in the halls with Potter or Weasley— not to mention I wasn't allowed to think of you at all, least of all in that way— back then it was so much easier to ignore it though, pretend you weren't the most infuriatingly intriguing witch I'd ever met."
Hermione felt a sad smile form on her face as she rested her cheek against his chest, lightly tracing her fingers over his stomach as she considered his confession. Surprisingly, it allowed her more insight to why he treated her so harshly and why she always felt he never had any remorse for the things he said and did to her. He'd been surviving with his Occlumency shields for so long, but she never would have thought it was to prevent him from thinking of her. His mother's face flashed in her mind, a small tinge of guilt pulling on a small string around her chest that had appeared shortly after her talk with Narcissa Malfoy, as a way of reminding her of the secret she was keeping from Draco.
I am not tell you this in hopes that you can stop his labyrinth from deteriorating— I am telling you this in hopes you will help him destroy it.
"And now…?" She asked. "It's more difficult?"
She felt his right hand beneath her chin, lifting it. He paused for a moment, his expression becoming softer the longer his eyes roamed across her face.
"It's laughable, how little control I have when it comes to you."
"Draco…" She started, shutting her eyes.
"Don't—" He said suddenly, forcing her to open her eyes to see him frowning. He lifted his fingers, smoothing out the anxious wrinkle between her brow. "Whatever it is— if it's anything to do with what's happening to me— just don't say it. I have an idea but if fixing it means not having you, being with you like this—," grazing his fingers through her hair, keeping it his hand firmly around her throat as his thumb traced her bottom lip, "—then I don't want to know."
Hermione bit her lip, wanting desperately to rid herself of the heavy weight in her chest. Instead, she only nodded.
"So…" He finally said, sensing they both knew they couldn't stay in this room much longer. "Proficient avoider of questions... what happens now?"
It wasn't lost on her that this was normally a question she presented to him. The small distinction spoke volumes; even after going after Harry and Ron, he was still willing to trust her. She made a promise to herself in that moment that she would do whatever she could to ensure he always could.
She sighed and then nervously glanced up at him.
"Now… We hunt down the last of the Horcruxes, but first... we'll have to do something far more difficult, but not quite as dangerous."
"What's that?" Draco frowned, regarding the guilty looking witch.
"Convince Ronald Weasley that he can trust you."
Theo felt as if time was lingering and growing heavier with each passing tick of the lazy second hand on the clock within his mind. The silence and the stillness was broken only by the occasional shaky inhale of breath from the guilt stricken wizard in his arms. Theo's fingers curled into Harry's hair as his right hand held him firmly on the small of his back, steadying him, feeling that if he let go he might break...
He glanced out the dew-stained window, through the scattered fog, finding the blur of red hair. Ron's back was to them as he remained hunched over himself, seemingly in a similar state to Harry. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon before him: Dusk was approaching.
If their surroundings in the kitchen could have reflected the feelings of what Theo imagined to be happening inside Harry at that moment, the cauldrons would have been boiling wildly with guilt and simmering in pain beneath the surface.
Theo inhaled a deep breath, trying not to think of what had caused the once inseparable duo to feel so far apart from the other; but it couldn't last… he knew his curiosity and desire to numb the pain inside Harry would outweigh his selfless tendencies. Not to mention it was difficult to ignore the tension that loomed between the two ever since they arrived.
It was becoming unbearable, the silence that continued to stretch as Harry tightened his grip around Theo's jumper.
"Harry." Theo said softly, pulling back enough to catch a glimpse of his red-rimmed eyes behind his round glasses. "We both know I'm the last person to know what to say in situations like this, but I know what it looks like when you're fighting with your best mate."
Harry seemed intent on not meeting his stare, as if he couldn't bare it. He stepped away from him, leaning back on the counter for support instead.
"That noticeable, huh?"
Theo remained silent, nodding as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"When you found me and Ron at Shell Cottage…" Harry said slowly, grimacing. "…that was the first time I've seen him in weeks."
Harry hung his head then, swallowing what seemed to Theo like an attempting to cover a sob. "After Hermione… I wasn't— I couldn't— "
Theo took one step forward, lifting his hands to either side of Harry's face, "Hey— hey— You don't have to tell me." Theo shook his head for emphasis. "You don't have to explain yourself to me—"
"I want to." Harry admitted, "I haven't been able to since… I couldn't— I need to."
"—even if it's to me?"
Harry finally lifted his gaze to meet his as Theo dropped his hands to his waist.
A small defeated laugh fell from Harry's lips, "Because it's you."
Theo let his words spread across the short distance between them, ebbing their way into his chest, forcing it to tighten as he inhaled a shaky breath. He didn't trust himself to say anything, instead he just nodded.
"After we lost Hermione..." Harry glanced down at his hands wrapped around Theo's forearms as if he hadn't realized he was holding onto him until that moment. "... I couldn't accept it and then when I did... I couldn't stop hating myself. She was the only family I had left and I let her die for me… Every single person that gets close to me dies, but this was Hermione and after I lost her I wondered if it would all end if I just turned myself over to him. I wanted to."
He didn't have to tell Theo he was referring to Voldemort.
"I knew I couldn't… that I wouldn't, but I considered it, truly considered it..." He added with a bitter laugh. "I couldn't be around anyone. Every time I looked at Ron I just—"
He felt Harry's fingers tighten around his forearms, though Harry kept his eyes down.
"You saw Hermione… you pictured him dying too." Theo guessed.
Harry lifted his head then, nodding. His expression no longer empty, but clouded with a miserable type of grief; the heavy kind, the kind that you could never imagine leading to any kind of healing unless Death was kind enough to show you mercy.
"I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory; a memory that keeps playing on a loop inside my head… and if I ignored it… if I could just shut it off for one second—" he glanced away from Theo then, glancing out the window where Ron sat. "—eventually Ron had enough of trying to snap me out of it I guess. Shortly after Bill was captured he went back to his family and I stayed at the Cottage. It wasn't until the raid that he sought me out to tell me his brother was killed... that's when you showed up."
"He left and then came back just to tell you his brother died? Why bother? To blame you for something you couldn't prevent?"
"I'm not sure," Harry just shrugged, "—but now that we have Hermione back… I just— I don't want Hermione to know that I stopped fighting— that I gave up."
"You're allowed a fucking minute of peace, Potter. Granger would understand that."
"She wouldn't have let it stop her."
"You're right." Theo agreed with a small laugh. "That blasted witch is relentless, especially when it comes to you. I did mention that she stole my wand, kidnapped me and forced me on her little suicide mission to get to you, right?"
Harry nodded, a small smirk twitching on his lips. Noticing the lack of warmth his smile normally held, Theo felt desperate to have a glimpse of the boy he once knew; the boy who had always seemed brave despite all the obvious reasons he shouldn't...
Theo tilted his face towards his, lifting one hand to Harry's cheek, feeling a warmth shoot through his veins as Harry swallowed nervously and closed his eyes in response into his touch. He watched Harry inhale and exhale twice before he broke the silence.
"Just say the word Potter and I'll whisk you off to some untraceable island, securely warded, stock full of all the food and booze you could want— we can obliviate each other so we don't remember any of this fucked up war—" Theo smirked before adding, "—who knows, if you get me drunk enough I may even go skinny dipping with you."
Hearing Harry laugh, genuinely laugh, forced Theo's small smirk into a full on smile.
"I thought you couldn't swim."
"For what I imagine we'd get up to, we'd hardly need to be more than waist deep." Theo tilted his head forward slightly, feeling Harry's hair brush against his forehead. "Besides, you wouldn't let me drown… would you, Potter?"
He glanced to where Harry's tongue flicked over his lips.
"Thank you."
Harry's voice was soft, fragile even.
Theo frowned, pulling back to find his expression less pained than before. "What for?"
"I can't remember the last time I laughed—," Harry lifted his hands to place them on Theo's stomach, slowly raising them until they paused over his chest, frowning as he considered if he should keep them there and ultimately deciding he should, "—and also, you know... for always listening."
Theo concentrated on the burning sensation beneath Harry's palms trailing slowly up his chest, clenching his jaw as Harry's eyes flickered to his lips.
"You're the only person whose never expected anything from me… You never expected me to be brave, or to have a plan— you let me be nothing and anything I wanted at the same time— even back at Hogwarts— it was so easy to find you after curfew, knowing you would be willing to listen… I never understood why you wanted to, but I knew you always would..."
Theo shut his eyes the moment Harry laced his finger through his hair. He refused to trust himself to speak for fear of ruining what Theo would consider possibly the most infuriatingly heightened situation his senses had ever been put through.
"Ever since I lost Hermione it feels like I've been slowly suffocating and it doesn't matter if I'm alone in that Cottage or fighting by Ron's side, it doesn't go away…" Theo tensed as he felt Harry's nose gently graze his, pausing to rest his forehead against his, adding, "I don't know why it's different with you… it's the first time I've felt like I can breathe again."
They remained with their foreheads rested on the others, each afraid of what the slightest of movement would cause the other to do. He could feel Harry's heartbeat racing beneath his fingers where they were firmly gripping the fabric of his shirt over his chest, knowing that keeping them there was safe. It was better if they kept things as they were. Less complicated. Clearly, neither of them needed complicated right now. Theo had tortured himself by running down the road of 'what ifs' too many times where Harry Potter is concerned, and right now, being as vulnerable as he appeared, it was certainly not the right time to dig up that terrorizing hole of disappointment—
"Sometimes I wonder if it was my fault for not asking you for more… if I should have kept you from walking away…"
Theo knew he needed to do exactly that, again.
"Harry…" Theo managed to breath out, as Harry pulled him closer until Harry was flush between him and the counter.
It felt like torture, holding back the urge to kiss him, but Theo couldn't help but wonder if he was only saying these things, reaching for him for comfort because he was still confused and hurting. Theo was by no means a good person when it came to respecting peoples feelings and with anyone else he wouldn't have thought twice about taking what he wanted, but this wasn't just anyone—
"I hated you for kissing me. I hated you because I never stopped wondering... I would have been fine without ever knowing what I was missing. I tried to forget— I even convinced myself that I wanted someone else, because you never once acted like you wanted anything from me—"
Theo's response was pounding inside his head, begging to come out— the words that were stuck somewhere deep inside his chest, lodged in his throat: 'I didn't want anything from you, Potter. I just wanted you... any version I could get'
Theo let out a bitter laugh instead, dropping his head to Harry's shoulder. "Why are you telling me all of this now, Harry?"
"I don't know." Harry's voice sounded hallow, defeated, reminding Theo of just how much pain he was in— that he shouldn't do anything Harry might later resent him for. "It shouldn't matter, but if it still does— to you then... you should know, I think—"
Theo slowly tilted his head, bringing his nose to graze the skin of Harry's throat, tracing upward along his jaw and stood to his full height so that he could stare down at him. And as he watched Harry's eyes fluttered shut he wondered if it would matter— in the grand scheme of things— if it would make the slightest difference if he took advantage of how the wizard before him was feeling, if there was no real beginning or end for them, what did it matter? He should take what he wanted, what Harry seemed to be offering in his moment of vulnerability...
But he couldn't...
If Theo learned anything from the past torturous years of longing for Harry Potter, it was that he wanted more than the broken pieces of him... he wanted the full pieces as well, and the pieces he hadn't yet discovered and would one day search for with someone else... he wanted to be that someone else. When the fuck had Theo let himself think he could ask for more when he had nothing to give in return?
Theo took a step backward, forcing himself to turn away as he cleared his throat.
"I should, um— I should check in with Blaise. He and Luna needed me earlier to help prepare for her leaving and— I should go—"
He didn't turn around for fear of changing his mind once his eyes landed on the pain stricken version of the boy he loved for more than half of his life. He wasn't surprised when Harry didn't call after him... not this time.
Luna hadn't imagined to find Harry Potter stumbling into the sitting room she was in, but stumbling slightly he appeared to be, stopping short when he noticed she was sitting in a small chair across the room with Ollivander laying on a small cot beside her.
"He's feeling better now. I think he may have had an allergic reaction to the dungeons."
She hardly noticed as Harry stuttered some semblance of an answer and slowly moved to join her. Her mind had been in a lovely day dream moments before he entered and was still residing there as Ollivander sensed his presence and began to sit up. Luna heard them greet one another, though she focused primarily on giving the older man the biscuits she found in the kitchens. She remembered that he enjoyed them most from the smaller portions they received whilst being dungeon mates. He had even given her his biscuit on her birthday, she had turned seventeen some weeks ago. The small gesture did seem to sadden him, so Luna assumed it was because he was very fond of his biscuit, but had nothing else to offer as a present.
"How are you feeling?"
Ever the worrier, Harry Potter, felt it necessary to consider the elder wizards feelings, though Luna was certain she noticed a yellow vibrancy bubbling somewhere within him. As she studied him a moment longer she recognized what the bubbling meant.
"Harry wants to ask you something, but he's not sure you'll want to answer him."
Luna smiled over at Harry, not entirely sure why he felt the need to clarify what she had said aloud.
"Oh— er, well... yes. I was hoping to ask you some questions, actually."
"By all means, Mr. Potter. I would be glad to assist you, if I am of any use. You know, my mind isn't as sharp as before... but I am willing to try." Ollivander gave Harry a forced smile, there was a similar bubbling of orange vibrancy radiating within Ollivander, she noticed, but after sensing Harry's discomfort for speaking on it, she decided whatever hesitance Ollivander held to help Harry would be apparent soon enough. She sat back in her chair and listened to their conversation with mild interest.
She heard Harry mention something about that particularities of a wand he stumbled upon after his was broken, questioning why Ollivander would believe they had a mind of their own. She held her tongue, sensing her input on the topic unnecessary. It wasn't until she sensed the conversation shift, Harry's tone shifted as well which she found peculiar, particularly as he mentioned the Deathly Hallows.
"You're lying."
Luna was uncertain what had caused Ollivander's shoulders to become tense; though, she had studied him closely over the past months to know that he was upset.
"You know one exists." Harry continued, "You told him about it. You told him about the Elder Wand and where he could go looking for it."
Luna tilted her head to the side, regarding Harry instead, wondering why his question would suddenly cause Ollivander discomfort.
"He tortured me... besides only conveyed rumors... there's...there's no telling whether he would find it."
"He has found it, sir."
Ollivander was silent, avoiding meeting Harry's careful stare, seemingly lost in a thought... Luna recognized the black fog behind his tired eyes and knew the thought was not a pleasant one.
"Would you know of any reason it wouldn't be responding to him?"
A peculiar question, Luna noted.
Ollivander lifted his gaze then, brow pulled together in concentration as he rasped out, "It is as I said, Mr. Potter. The wand chooses the wizard, but as its previous owner is deceased there should be no reason for it to not respond to his magic." The was a heavy pause as Harry leaned forward, sensing Ollivander wasn't finished. "Unless..."
"Unless...?" Harry repeated.
"Well... it is possible its allegiance has fallen elsewhere, though there are many varying factors that could cause this to happen. Impossible to determine based on the little I know of it's history..."
Luna watched as Harry stood.
"Thank you, sir. I'll let you rest." After a moment, Harry turned to leave. Luna stood to follow after him with a question of her own, but they were both stopped as Ollivander spoke suddenly.
"He's after you, Mr. Potter. If he has the Elder Wand, then I'm afraid you don't stand a chance, it's allegiance bound to him or otherwise."
Luna glanced to see Harry's face void of any emotion as he lifted a brow. "I suppose I'll just have to kill him before he finds me then."
He was through the door in the next instant. Luna smiled briefly back at Ollivander, letting him know she would return shortly, though the old man still seemed to be considering the black fog of thoughts consuming him.
"Harry Potter." She called down the hall. She jogged lightly and stopped as he turned to face her.
"Yes, Luna?" He asked, regarding her as she seemed out of breath.
"I have a question as well. If it's alright with you?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"How is it that you know?"
Harry frowned, tilting his head slightly. "Know what?"
"That the Elder Wand may not be responding to You-Know-Who." Luna explained, "You asked Ollivander why it wouldn't be responding to him..."
"Well... it's complicated." He responded quickly, but after a moment of studying her curious expression he sighed, "Sometimes I can... see things."
Luna only blinked, unsure why he had stopped his explanation. She assumed for dramatic pause.
"I can see inside You-Know-Who's mind. I've seen flashes and I-I think the wand is rejecting him as it's rightful owner. It's just a hunch really, nothing I've considered at length, but I figured I would ask Ollivander seeing as he know's much more about wand-lore than anyone..."
She nodded, glancing above Harry's head, knowing if she had her Spectrespecs she would certainly find an entire swarm of wrackspurts. She smiled at him, noting his discomfort with her silence.
"Well, if you have noticed in the small flashes revealed to you I would think He-Who-Should-Not-be-Named has noticed too. I would assume whomever the wand does answer to could of be great value to both of you. It's just a matter of determining who... "
After several moments of neither of them saying anything, as she seemed to have placed Harry under a trance of sorts, even without her wand (she often made the mistake of doing this, leaving witches and wizards to stand completely still, blinking at her in confusion until she spoke once more)...
"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Thanks." Harry said, frowning. "Nott mentioned you were leaving. Where will you go?"
"I've plans to visit my father. Ollivander will be joining me as well and then I'll be returning to Hogwarts."
"Are you sure that's safe? Why not stay here?"
"I do love what Theo has done with the place. He's quite the nester. It truly feels like a home, but I'm needed at Hogwarts. Soon you all will be too."
"What makes you think that?"
Luna considered his question. "I suppose I'm like you. Sometimes I can see things, though it's more of a feeling, so perhaps it's better if I say that sometimes I can sense things. My mother could too." With that, Luna felt it best to end the conversation to allow Harry to sort through the foggy confusion settling above him. "I should make sure Ollivander hasn't choked on the biscuits. Theo may be an excellent decorator, but a baker he isn't. The biscuits are a bit dry."
She turned on her heel, and skipped away from a very confused looking Harry Potter.
To say that things were awkward would be a terrible understandment, not that the blonde haired witch standing near the foyer had any inclination to be aware of this fact. Luna Lovegood was bidding her goodbyes to everyone with a bright smile. The witch was completely ignorant to the heated glare radiating from Ron as he watched Hermione and Draco slowly descend the staircase together, stopping at the foot of the stairs with Draco's hand casually skating across the small of her back to guide her and then falling to his side— she also missed the glances that Harry and Theo were attempting to hide from one another every time the other looked away. It would seem the blonde witch was entirely oblivious to it all, or so Blaise thought.
"Well, we'll be going then." She announced and turned to Draco with a soft smile, leaning forward slightly. "You two got rid of the Warmpgrindles, I see."
Blaise stifled his smirk behind his fist as his best friend cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting away from Hermione to open the door for Luna.
Draco folded his arms across his chest, "Yes, well, stay safe Lovegood. We'll meet again soon."
"Sooner than you think." She confirmed, moving past him to stand on the porch next to Ollivander, who was nervously glancing up at the sky. "Good luck Harry Potter."
Harry lifted his hand to wave back, though he still looked unsettled with her leaving, but realized quickly there was no way to change the witches mind. "You too Luna."
"Wait— you're certain about this Luna?" Hermione asked, "You haven't even told us where you'll go."
"Lovegood's father is waiting for her in a graveyard." Draco explained simply, shrugging as Hermione just blinked at him.
"And then I'll be returning to Hogwarts."
"What? Why? Luna, it isn't safe to return now. Not with Snape as head master." Hermione countered, glancing behind her at Harry for support, perhaps, but found none as Potter only shrugged, mumbling that he's already had this conversation.
"The castle needs me I think."
Just as the witch was about to leave Blaise felt Ron shove past him to join her. "Wait up Luna—"
"Ron. What are you doing?" Hermione asked as he reached for Luna's arm.
"They can't just go alone, 'Mione. I told you, it's different out there now." He glanced from her to Harry, whose gaze was set to the floor not saying a word. Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron several times, expecting one of them to explain what was happening.
"But you'll come back, won't you?" She asked nervously.
Blaise was calculating if he should be preparing for a fight between Ron and Hermione or Ron and Draco, as both seemed to be daring Ron to answer incorrectly. Luckily for him, Ron simply shrugged.
The look on Hermione's face fell into an expression Blaise was certain he never wanted to be on the receiving end of.
"It's obvious that I'm not wanted here Hermione and you two don't seem to be itching to leave anytime soon." Ron spat, glaring at Draco and then back at Harry who had finally lifted his gaze. "Am I wrong?"
Other than Potter's jaw slightly clench, he gave no other response.
Ron frowned, sounding defeated as he nodded. "That's what I thought."
"Ron, please— just—" Hermione glanced around their small group, and turned to Luna. "Luna, do you mind delaying for another moment while I speak to Ron?"
"I'm in no hurry."
Hermione nodded, offering her a small smile and didn't hesitate to push past Draco through the large doors and grip Ron's arm, not caring that he was grumbling the entire time.
Blaise sighed loudly, "Well… things just keep getting more interesting around here, don't they?"
"Not in my opinion," Luna answered without missing a beat, "—ever since the Goblins left things have been quite dull."
"Shouldn't you be gallivanting after Weaslebee too, Potter?" Draco asked, eyeing the less animated version of Harry.
Theo clapped his hands together, announcing, "I don't know about you beautiful bastards, but I could use a drink."
"Now there's an idea I can get behind." Blaise agreed.
"Potter?" Theo asked with a nod towards the kitchens.
Draco and Blaise both shared a glance as they watched the two stare at one another for a stretch of a moment. Apparently the length of time became too unsettling for Draco and he moved to stand between them, turning to Harry, "You look like you could use a fucking drink more than anyone, Potter. Besides it's rude to refuse your host. Whisky or scotch?"
Blaise felt as shocked as Potter looked at the invitation— well certainly less surprised by the invitation and more of who it had come from— but only hesitated a moment before stammering out a response, glancing over at Theo before answering.
"Um, firewhisky will do. Yea. Thanks."
"Fucking fantastic." Blaise said cheerily as he moved to follow Draco into the kitchens, calling over his shoulder. "Lovegood— You in? One round before you hit the road?"
"Of course she is." Theo said, following behind them. "When has Lovegood ever refused a drink?"
"Never." Luna answered simply, glancing behind her to see Ollivander settle into the couch near the door waving her to leave him behind. "Though, I'm certain it's only because you've never offered."
Theo paused, turning on his heel, "Ah, suppose that was due to your being a prisoner for a short time, hmm?"
"That is correct."
"Pity." Theo continued on, "Well, no matter. What time is better than the present to mend burning bridges."
"Oh, if were to be committing any form of arson I'd like to inform the Billywigs before doing so—"
"I like where your heads at, as per usual Lovegood—" Theo said moving to wrap his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the others who were watching them wearily, "—but unfortunately, we won't be burning any literal bridges tonight." Lifting a finger in her direction he added, "That's not to say any other night is out of the question, as I am always open to discovering the insanity that is the happenings inside that brilliant mind of yours, and something tells me that— ah, thank you kind sir—" Theo reached for the glass Draco extended to him, handing it to Luna and then grabbing his own, "—as I was saying, something tells me the way you do arson and the way any common, monotonous person would preform the same delinquency are two separate phenomenons entirely—"
"Nott—" Blaise interrupted, lifting his glass. "Stop talking."
"See—" Theo leaned towards Luna, "—prime example of your common, monotonous person— lack of any imagination in its purest form. I'm certain his preferred idea of arson includes a nice campfire and marshmallows that expand into the shapes of fucking unicorns the moment they absorb the cocoa—"
"I hadn't thought of brining marshmallows. That seems a rather lovely addition for attempted arson."
Theo pulled away, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Attempted? No, Lovegood. I do not attempt to do things— I simply do them and then they are done. Brilliantly? Always. Flawlessly? Less often, but that's not important. You're missing the point entirely—"
"That's because there isn't one." Draco drawled, pulling his glass to his lips as he moved to sit on the sofa near the piano.
Theo was opening his mouth to respond when the sound of Harry snorting at Draco's comment made him pause. He tilted his head at the wizard who was nervously wiping at the liquid running down his chin. Harry glanced up to see Theo staring at him and shrugged.
"What?" Harry glanced from him to Draco and Blaise, who were regarding him in a similar fashion.
"Nothing." Theo quickly stammered out, clearing his throat, deciding that maybe his point no longer needed to be made as much as he needed to swallow the entire contents of his drink.
"So..." Blaise drawled as he leaned against the piano, "...anyone wanna wager how many bruises Weasley comes back with after his chat with our fiery little Gryffindor?"
"Two— oh, wait, actually— put me down for three and a scar from a hex for good measure." Theo said, rubbing the side of his head. "My head's still tender from the last time she hit me."
"Probably deserved it." Harry mumbled into his glass before taking a sip.
"Definitely deserved it." Blaise confirmed, trying his best to cover his intrigue at Potter's sudden desire to accumulate himself in their discussion without any resentment.
Even Draco seemed to smirk at this and Blaise wondered if Hermione was having as much luck with Ron outside…
Hermione paced after Ron through the muddy field, not concerning herself with the mess she was making of her pants and boots. His strides were much longer than hers, causing her to practically jog after him.
"Ron!" She called through her heavy breaths. "Ron, please. Just slow down!"
He spun on his heel, bringing them face to face. He gripped her arms tightly. Hermione could see the dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes. She wondered when he had been crying. A small twinge of guilt bubbling in her stomach wondering if it had been while she was with Draco.
"I thought about you everyday Hermione." He confessed without allowing her to catch her breath first. "I thought about how different that night could have gone for us. If I had been quicker to disarm Bellatrix— if I hadn't left— if Harry and I hadn't been fighting in the first place—"
"Ron—"
"No." He shook his head. "Let me finish. You think I want to leave you after I just got you back? Of course I don't, but things aren't the same as before. Harry's not the same."
"Then tell me." Hermione begged, reaching to lace her fingers with his. "Tell me what happened so I can understand— Don't do this again, Ron— You can't just leave—"
"DONT!" He roared. "I'M NOT LEAVING BECAUSE OF SOME PETTY JEALOUSY BECAUSE OF A CURSED LOCKET OR—OR—"
"Ron, calm down." Hermione pleaded again. "Just tell me so I can understand."
She watched his shoulders rise and fall rapidly as he staggered backwards, his eyes glossing over as he focused on something that she couldn't see.
"Ron…"
"Harry and I haven't spoken for weeks 'Mione…" He finally admitted, bringing his heavy gaze to lock onto hers.
"I-I don't understand… I saw you— both of you at the Cottage—"
"I didn't abandon him, but I couldn't take it anymore 'Mione— not when— not while my family—"
Ron lifted his hands over his head, resting them on top as he turned to look out over the empty field. Hermione took a slow step forward, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling the need to hold onto something.
"Harry and I thought you were dead— and it wasn't the same after that. He couldn't even look at me, let alone talk and when he did he would just lash out and eventually it was like he'd given up. He'd refuse to leave the Cottage or even think about continuing with what we started with the Horcrux hunt. It didn't matter what I said, or Bill or Remus… he refused to listen. When Nott came to the Cottage with you… well, that's the first time I've seen him look even remotely like my best friend."
Ron turned to her, his expression softening.
"Losing you hurt like hell, 'Mione— it hurt both of us, but it broke him. He hasn't been Harry in months and I… I wasn't any in better shape to try and piece us both back together."
"But I'm here now, Ron…" Hermione said, wiping at the tears that had begun long before he had finished. "It can be like it was…"
"Yeah." Ron released a breath, a sad smile twitched on the corner of his mouth as he dropped his head. "I don't know…"
"I lost you two, too, you know. I lost my best friends and all I thought about every moment was finding my way to find you both—"
The look of disbelief on his face as he glared at her made her stop short.
"That's unlikely from what I've pieced together in there—"
"W-What are you—"
"Oh, please 'Mione… just because you think I'm an idiot doesn't mean I can't see the way Malfoy looks at you and that you don't seem to mind in the slightest—"
"Ronald, please— this has nothing to do with Draco—"
"Ugh— DON'T— JUST SAVE IT." Ron growled, moving to walk towards the Manor. Hermione grabbed his arm before he could get past her and he stopped, glaring down at her. "I can't be here— you aren't even you anymore—"
"I'm still me and so is Harry! Why are you being like this?" She asked, slightly breathless with the need to fall apart.
"Because Mums a mess, Hermione! Dad… he's just as bad— having to go through what they did with Bill, and now—" He swallowed a shaky breath, the sight of it sliced through Hermione's chest. "—now, Charlie—"
He could barely grit out his brother's name without shutting his eyes and Hermione was moving towards him in an instant, wrapping her arms so tightly around him, not caring that he wrapped his arms around her twice as tightly… Hermione could feel her heart breaking within her chest for him. She mumbled soft apologizes as he sobbed into her shoulder— she apologized for what he lost, for her absence through it all…
He kept his arms wrapped around her for longer than he intended, but she didn't mind. Eventually, he pulled away from her, his hands moving from her waist to place them on either side of her tear-stained face.
"They need me 'Mione. Mum and dad… It's why I left Harry at the Cottage, too… they needed me."
Hermione nodded, her chest tightening as his words settled somewhere in the back of her mind, she didn't want to accept them, not yet. His eyes scanned over her features and his frown faded into something she wasn't sure she recognized on his usual soft features. It seemed vacant almost, like he was remembering a ghost and not looking into the eyes of his best friend.
"You're different…" He finally said, hardly above a whisper. "I can't explain it, but it's true."
"Different bad?" She managed to choke out.
He shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, seeming to search them for the familiarity he felt they no longer held. "No… just different."
Hermione swallowed, "I don't want you to go."
He gently pushed pieces of her hair behind her ears, glancing towards the Manor and then back down to her trembling lip tucked beneath her tooth.
"Seems like you don't need me, 'Mione… maybe you never have."
"Don't say that! Of course I do! Y-You're my b-best friend— You… You and Harry— it's always been the three of us—"
"Not always." Ron dropped his hands from her face.
Hermione felt something growing inside her then, something she recognized earlier when they spoke after she had woken and he shouted at her: guilt; a guilt she unknowingly had been forced to carry for abandoning them, placed on her shoulders by Ron, intentionally or not.
"…and certainly not now! You've let Malfoy convince you he's all of a sudden stopped being a spoiled, murderous pain in the arse—" he continued, flinging his arm in the direction of the Manor, "—and Harry… I can't take another moment of him feeling sorry for himself when every second there's the possibility that someone in my family has been captured or killed for being associated with him!
"And the worst part of it is that it's like he's completely shut off— he refused to talk about you after what happened at the Manor— or anything for that matter— I know I shouldn't blame him, 'Mione, I know… he didn't ask for any of this. He's been my best friend for years so I know all of that, but— whoever that person is in there, whoever he became after loosing you… that's not my best friend. And I'm tired of choosing someone who has given up over being with my family— maybe if I was with them when— maybe if I had been there sooner when Charlie…"
Ron's entire body was shaking now, his face burning in a red fury as he stood before her.
"I just need to be with them." He finally concluded, his shoulders dropping. "I want to see Ginny, Fred, George and I want to hold Mum's hand… I want to let her grip as tight as she needs to when Bill asks her who she is for the tenth time, after she's spent hours of showing him photos of the two of them— photos of her giving birth to her first son, photos of him and his little brothers that he helped raise— photos his first visit to Diagon Alley and his first quidditch match—and when she smiles over at him… and tells him that she loves him and he can't even remember where he is let alone who she is—"
He shut his eyes then, trembling as a shaky breath escaped him.
"I need to be there so she can squeeze my hand as tight as she can so that she can smile instead of cry… because she hasn't given up— she's the strongest person I know, but knowing that I've abandoned her after she's practically lost two sons already—"
Hermione lifted her fingers to reach for him, but paused as he took a step back shaking his head.
"I can't do this again."
Hermione was speechless, the only sounds coming from her were soft sobs as she reached for him again, only for him to take another step back— and she felt like he had literally ripped her heart from her chest and placed it beneath the heel of his foot as he let it sink into the earth.
"I love you Hermione." He said firmly. "I always have. I'm not saying goodbye— I'm not, because I know you'll help remind Harry there's still something worth fighting for, and when you do you know I'll be there… me and my family will always be there for the both of you— Just be careful with trusting Malfoy. I won't say anymore about it, but just be careful."
Somehow she found the strength to speak, feeling her window of opportunity to change his mind was closing, if there ever was one—
"Ron… you can't leave like this— with the two of you like this and I-I just got you back—"
The last of her words seemed to give him a reason to pause. With every breath he took, letting the silence stretch, she felt her hope stretching just as thin, to the point where she felt it would rip into pieces if he waited another moment to respond.
"Please… Don't do this."
"I'm sorry." And it was with those two words that Ron had succeeded with diminishing whatever hope was left… "My family needs me." He glanced towards the Manor and started walking towards it, mumbling, "...and it's quite clear that you and Harry don't... not anymore."
Harry excused himself from the others after his first drink to move into the large living area, watching Hermione and Ron from the window. He thought a drink would help take his mind off things, but it only seemed to force him to focus on the absence of his two best friends even more. Eventually, Ron came back in, leaving Hermione standing in the open field with her arms wrapped around herself. Though her back was to Harry he knew if he went out to join her he would find her eyes swollen and cheeks stained with tears.
"You're leaving then?" Harry asked the moment Ron came walking through the foyer and into the living area.
Ron turned to find Harry standing a few feet away near the window, watching him. He was silent a moment, but eventually nodded. He took a few steps forward once Harry turned back to the window.
"Look, Harry—" Ron started, but the sound of the doors to the kitchens opened revealing Luna with the others trailing behind her, stopping him from finishing his sentence.
"Where's Hermione?"
Harry didn't have to look at Ron to know he was glaring at the blond wizard who came waltzing over to them.
"She doesn't want to be bothered by you."
"Well," Harry said without taking his eyes from the window, "I guess you should get going then."
"You're seriously going to trust them, aren't you?" Ron asked, "Have you truly decided to suddenly start caring again just to risk everything by turning to these snakes instead of your best mate?"
Harry turned to him then, "I haven't suddenly decided anything Ron—"
"That's right," Ron scoffed, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "You haven't decided anything! Not a single thing in months— You've done nothing—"
"I think we should get going before it gets too dark," Luna chimed in, but Ron's voice easily overpowered her own.
"—meanwhile my entire family is out there believing that they're actually risking their lives for someone who actually gives a—"
The rest of Ron's sentence was cut short as Theo stepped in front of him, one hand wrapped aggressively around Ron's collar and his wand digging into his throat as he shoved him back against the wall.
"Say another word, Weasley, and I'll summon your vocal chords from your throat so slowly that you'll choke on them before I finish ripping them from your larynx—"
"Theo. Leave the Weasel be." Draco drawled lazily somewhere behind them.
"And you—" Ron spat at Draco, ignoring Theo's wand digging deeper into his throat. "—I should make you pay for what you did to Bill!"
"I'm trembling with fear..." Draco responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
As Ron opened his mouth to speak again Theo smirked, "I'd think twice before responding, mate. I've still got your wand and you're a tad outnumbered."
"Don't waste your breath, Nott. He's made it perfectly clear what he thinks." Harry said with hardly any emotion.
"Do you even care if you die anymore?" Ron asked, roughly pushing against Theo's hold. "Is that it? Are you hoping Malfoy will take you right to You-Know-Who and it can all be over? That's a cowards move, Harry—"
Ron grunted as Theo shoved him back against the wall again. Harry didn't even look at the two as he walked past them towards the door. "If you're going to leave then just go already."
As Harry shut the door behind him he heard Draco telling Theo to let Ron go and Luna add another comment about it getting dark. He didn't bother with trying to make out what Ron was saying, instead he shoved his feet through the thick mud over to where Hermione stood.
It wasn't that Harry wanted Ron to leave, but he didn't particularly not want him to either. If he left, at least Harry knew he would be with his family and probably more safe than where he imagined he and Hermione were heading. She was still determined as ever and if Harry was honest, knowing that she still believed him had sparked the hope inside him he had thought he forgot how to feel. He could feel it again just by being in her presence. His thoughts concerning her ever since they left the Manor laid heavily within him, but now, as he moved towards her he felt the weight begin to lessen, if only slightly.
He didn't need to announce himself. The moment he stopped beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, she folded into him effortlessly, burying her tear stained cheeks into his shoulder.
It was never something he could put into words exactly, but when it came to their friendship he felt as if they were tethered to one another, almost like two magnets. Whenever he would enter a crowded room, his eyes were drawn to search her out... as if he couldn't truly feel comfortable until he placed her within the crowd. He assumed it was mostly to do with how much they had been through together, and now being the only family either of them had left. He wondered if that was why he understood Ron's desire to return to his family now. What Hermione and Harry were to one another, Ron had with his real family. But to Harry, he thought his sense of needing Hermione may even run a bit deeper— maybe because he had never truly known what it was like to have a family love him unconditionally— Voldemort had taken that from him every time he thought he would get close to knowing what that would even feel like.
"He's gone, hasn't he?"
Hermione's soft whisper tore him from his somber thoughts. He tightened his hold around her shoulders, terrified of little else in that moment besides the thought of loosing her.
"Afraid so..." Harry responded after several slow breaths. He felt her lift her chin to rest it on top of his shoulder.
"He'll come back to us." She nodded firmly, leaning back slightly, the weary expression on her face revealed to Harry how uncertain she was in the words coming out of her mouth. "He always finds his way back."
"Yeah... yeah, he does."
Harry forced a small smile, not able to admit that he thought this time may be different— that Harry had been so selfish in his need to mourn loosing her to the point that Ron could no longer recognize him.
She pulled him close again and he focused on the sound of her soft breaths as he watched the sun began to sink off in the distance. It felt like an eternity passed in their silent comforting of one another, though it had probably only been a few minutes. The sound of a 'pop' echoed behind them, forcing them both to part, turning alert in the direction it came from.
"Granger!" Pansy called out as she began jogging towards them, "—Good! You're feeling better! We'll be needing that giant brain of yours—" Pansy glanced at Harry, "I suppose your assistance won't be unnecessary either."
"What happened to you? Is that blood?" Hermione asked, moving towards Pansy to examine her closely.
The dark haired witch waved her hand, "Oh, that— that's nothing... just a minor scratch, really. I'm afraid the others weren't as lucky—"
"Others?"
As the questions came out of Harry's mouth several 'pops' sounded around the field. Harry immediately reached for Hermione's arm, pulling her behind him.
"Oh, do calm down Potter—" Pansy rolled her eyes. "No need to be so dramatic. They're with us."
"Who are they?" Hermione asked as she and Harry took in the scattered figures approaching across the field; most of them appearing similar in age and their clothes equally as tattered and covered with blood and dirt.
Pansy glanced back at them both, a proud smirk pulling on her full lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well Granger, you're looking at my army."
"Don't you mean our army, darling?" Daphne added as she trudged closer to them.
"I suppose every Alpha needs a Beta." Pansy remarked slyly, wrapping her arm around Daphne's waist before turning back to Harry and Hermione. "Well, don't just stand there you two... we've got injuries to tend to—"
Harry and Hermione shared a weary glance as a total of ten others came to join them as they trudged towards the Manor, some of them limping and some helping the others to remain upright. They both heard whispers coming from what appeared to be twins, a girl and a boy, probably no older than fifteen years old—
—that's Harry Potter... one said as the other responded, duh, told you the bitch wolf wasn't lying—
"Wait— some of them are severely hurt— what happened?" Hermione called after Pansy.
"Greyback happened." Pansy replied offhandedly, shoving the large wooden doors open. "Oh Dracoooooo—"
"When you say Greyback happened—" Harry asked, but Pansy was already halfway through the foyer and out of sight.
Daphne turned around, motioning for the others to follow Pansy towards the living area. Hermione took a step back as Harry did the same to let them pass. Harry tried to decipher if he recognized any of them, but could hardly take in their appearance as they shuffled past him.
"She's not one for explanations, that one." Daphne said after they all limped through. "These are our recruits. Our contribution to the cause. Greyback called a mandatory gathering to prepare for Friday. Pansy and the others were forced to 'train', which really just means fighting one another until Greyback feels he's seen enough blood."
"What's happening Friday?"
Daphne frowned, "He's planning to attack Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts? Why?"
"Because You-Know-Who thinks he has control over the castle..." Hermione said, more to herself than to either of them. "...if Greyback can take Hogwarts—"
"The Dark Lord's followers will find him weak." They all turned to see Draco walking into the foyer then, his gaze finding Hermione's immediately, softening mildly. "Alright, Granger?"
Hermione nodded, offering him a small smile, a blush rising to her cheeks.
It took Harry a moment to blink out his dazed confusion watching the interaction.
"Daph— Theo and Blaise need a hand tending to some of their injuries. I'll be along in a minute."
Daphne nodded and started towards the kitchens.
"I can help, we'll probably need to start brewing a few more healing and blood replenishing potions." Hermione offered, moving to join her.
"Hermione, wait." Draco said, reaching out to grip her hand, almost affectionately in his gentleness, Harry noticed.
"What is it?"
"I think we should leave for Gringott's tonight... Assuming the Dark Lord took my warning he'll be expecting the attack, it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord summons me and Theo."
"Tonight?" Hermione repeated, glancing nervously at Harry who was watching Draco closely, sensing his discomfort every time he met his stare; becoming increasingly aware that Draco had yet thrown an insult or a snide comment his way since he arrived.
"I promised I would get you into my Aunt's vault, Hermione. I can't do that if I die fighting off werewolves now can I?"
"Right," Hermione nodded, her expression turning into the familiar look of concentration. "Right, I'm sorry— I just— I don't know why I thought we'd have more time to come up with a plan."
"We'll sort it out." Harry offered before nodding towards the kitchens. "Go help the others. I'd like to talk to Malfoy, if that's alright with him?"
Draco shifted from one foot to the other, clenching his jaw as he cleared his throat."Ehm— sure, Potter... Go on, Granger— we'll be along shortly."
Harry nodded one last time at his best friend as she glanced between them. He knew her desire to help the others would win out over her desire to hear what Harry had to say, and eventually she turned to leave them alone in the foyer.
"Perhaps we should move into Theo's study." Draco offered quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the lingering silence in Hermione's absence.
"Lead the way..."
Malfoy Manor
Narcissa Malfoy stood before the labyrinth laced within her gardens, her chin lifted high, allowing the cool afternoon breeze to filter across her face, enjoying the sensation for its distraction from her many thoughts. She felt it necessary to return to this very spot to remind her of the reasons behind her choices; choices that led the love for her husband to evaporate into a shadow of it's former glory, in hopes that whatever she had left to give, she could blanket her son with it and protect him at all costs. It was ironic to remind herself that Lucius had gifted Narcissa these very gardens as an anniversary gift, the same day Draco was born, and she had, in turn, gifted Draco the security of these same gardens for his own secrets.
She closed her eyes and lifted her fingers to graze over the green shrubbery, the soft petals beneath her fingertips taking her mind through an old memory…
Mother, why not use the elves to tend to the gardens? We'll be at this for hours if we don't even use magic! You promised you'd let me practice while father was away!
Narcissa opened her eyes, the memory of her son's voice allowing her to imagine his eleven year old self before her, walking confidently through the maze with her garden clippers.
And if you are without an elf or without magic, Draco… what will you do then, hm?
Without magic? Why would I ever be without magic? Father says once I have my wand I will never part with it. He says it will become another limb— apart of me.
Nothing is promised forever, dear.
The corporeal image she conjured of her son vanished then. She felt the warm liquid slowly roll down her cheek and quickly wiped its presence away. She moved deeper into the maze, thinking of how detailed her son had been while drawing this very place the first time she asked him to think of a safe to place for his thoughts. He had traced the path with an accurate precision, down to the exact location of each flower and root. Her heart felt heavy with the memory as she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with a somber kind of happiness that this was the place he had chosen. He had not chosen any place within their home, but the one place they shared, the one place that was completely theirs; her gardens…
"The last time you spent this much time out here was the day after we sent Draco off to Hogwarts… "
Narcissa turned around slowly, not surprised to find her husband watching her. He had clung to her side far more frequently in the last few days, out of fear or an attempt to make up for the time they wasted, she imagined.
"You've been avoiding me." He added, taking an unsteady step towards her, his cane supporting half his weight. His long pale hair was pulled back from his face, making him appear presentable enough for the company they were expecting, though the dark circles beneath her husbands eyes were a clear indicator to the lack of sleep he had been getting.
"Avoid you? Why would I ever wish for that my dear husband?"
Lucius frowned at his wife, not missing the lack of an attempt to hide her inability to even look him in the eye. He watched her move deeper into the labyrinth, groaning to himself as he forced his aching limbs to follow behind her. The potions she had been allowing him to take had been wearing off much quicker than normal, causing him to feel everything—
"You cannot carry on hating me, my love... not with our ending so near and my madness ever impending. It's entirely selfish of you."
Narcissa turned around so quickly that Lucius almost lost his balance. She narrowed her eyes sharply, nostrils flaring and Lucius was certain this was the most emotion he had gotten out of his wife in months.
"If you happen to give into your madness before my time is finished, one would think it just for my hating you, but if you think so little of my affections for you, my dear, you are mistaken, and you have forgotten the woman you wed, and you have forgotten about the sort of love of which I am capable."
It was then that Lucius felt a semblance of relief as her delicate fingers traced the side of his face. She had rid him of her touch for so long he was certain he no longer remembered how much he craved it, only that he did. Thought her touch was gentle, the sharpness in her features were not.
"Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were to break, it would be my treasure still: if you go mad, Lucius, you will not find the release of death at the hand of our Dark Lord, but you will find my arms confined around you— your touch, even in fury, will always have a charm for me. It is this truth that proves to be my deepest joy and my greatest mistake."
Narcissa spoke the words so harshly, Lucius was uncertain if he should trust the tenderness they implied.
"Forgot not, my dear, that it has always been you, not I, who understands love only to the extent of the selfish love you accuse me of giving." Her fingers gripped his jaw tightly then, her nails curling into his skin. "Do not accuse me of hating you. It is because I do not that we find ourselves in the circumstances that we are, without our son.
Lucius sighed, not caring that her intent was to hurt him, only that she was willingly caressing his face. "You fault me still..."
"There is no fault to be placed." Narcissa dropped her hand from his face, turning on her heel to continue deeper into the maze. "What will be will come to pass, to blame anyone would be a wasted breath and as you so gloomily reminded me, we have so few left..."
"I take it you've visited the mudblood then." Lucius called out, limply chasing her. "If you think her so clever then what will stop her from piecing together the intentions of your visit? She will surely tell our son of her suspicions and he will want answers."
Narcissa stopped her stride with no intentions of turning around. She stared straight into the green hedged path.
"There's still time, my flower." Lucius begged behind her. "Once Draco learns you have stopped extracting the curse he will stop at nothing to save you. What comes of your plans for self sacrifice then? It all will be for not, and I will not allow it— I will not let you face such uncertainties alone— let me—"
"Enough!" Narcissa said firmly, moving forward once more with renewed vigor, knowing he would surely fall behind, unable to keep up with her determined strides. "Your efforts to repeat this conversation has bored me. I will hear no more of it."
Narcissa was so focused on escaping her husband, turning and circling through the maze, that she almost collided with a bright stream of light hurdling towards her, or perhaps galloping towards her was more accurate in describing its arrival. She lowered her wand from where she had it before her, and concentrated on the patronus that stopped just short of her, rising up onto its hind legs before settling onto all fours.
It is time, Narcissa—
The Dark Lord has discovered needs to be done concerning the wand's allegiance. Come the next full moon he will see to being rid of me. If we do not have the fortune of seeing one another before he alerts you to join him here at Hogwarts, I wanted to remind you of my gratitude for your friendship. Everything I have ever found happiness in has been stripped of me, but when you placed your trust in me in regards to your son, I felt I found a new memory to pull from as I conjured this message, my last Patronus... my death will be of little importance, but I admit that I do not feel as alone as I once did in this endeavor knowing you will greet Death shortly after, and perhaps, if fate allows, we may meet again other side—
Narcissa's breath caught in her chest as she staggered backwards, watching in awe as the incorporeal doe began to admit blue flames from its nostrils, and its form steadily grew larger, shifting its shape until the gentle creature burst into a thousand tiny specs, expanding outward and recoiling back together... the bright form no longer resembling any woodland creature, but taking on a wondrous, terrifying, and monstrous form of a Dragon. It lowered from the sky to hover before Narcissa and then twisted around her, causing a small tornado of wind to swirl her robes and hair, until it vanished above the hedged gardens rising to join the vast night sky.
The end of the message in Snape's calming voice still echoing around her...
Until then...
A/N: Throwing this out there: I love Ron's character. I am by no means a Ron hater and I hope it will eventually make sense why he wanted to leave. Anyways... until next time!