Ok so, I'll mark the story as COMPLETE but I'll probably add an Epilogue, both because I want to and because I'd rather have 34 chapters than 33.
Hope you've had a nice time with this story, I'm sorry to have written it without a real project. I guess it would have helped giving the story a better structure.
It was supposed to be just a language exercise, but now that I'm virtually done with it, I can see that it could have been a nicer story with a little more planning. I might consider writing it all over again... maybe in my own language so that it might be easier to handle... who knows!
I'll post the 'real' last chapter sometimes next week, hopefully!
Until then,
Stay safe and healthy :3
Please leave a comment or send me PM, I'd love to know what you all think about the story! Also, if you have any request for the epilogue, please let me know!
HOME
The small country cemetery stands abandoned on top of a quiet hill.
Albus hasn't been here in ages, despite that, the white marble over Greta's resting place, is as bright as always. Her name shines in the pale light of sunset in plain golden letters. There's no fancy quote on her grave, no pompous family motto, no coat of arms, nothing besides her name and the dates signing the beginning and the end of her life.
Albus sniffles as a memory of happier days crosses his mind. Times when returning from school, he would stop at the safe house where Greta lived with Leonie. They would talk, drink, play chess, discuss books and sometimes exchange trivial gossips.
Greta was an extremely intelligent, loyal and strong woman. Above all she was a true friend.
Albus nods at the white grave in greeting.
As always, he feels a small twinge of guilt prick his stomach as memories begin to pile up.
Oh he loved Greta dearly, but it feels bad to know that it hadn't always been like that.
As a matter of fact, before meeting her, Albus hadn't liked her at all.
Stuck in his teaching job at Hogwarts, he had envied the little girl gallivanting the world next to one of the most powerful men in history. She had ventured in the exciting life Albus had grudgingly renounced. Albus had looked from afar, swallowing bitter bile with every day that passed without Gellert showing up to drag him away and back into his adventures, THEIR adventures.
Who was that insipid silly girl to stand by Gellert Grindelwald? What did this clever and terrible man see in the blonde witch? She was not particularly powerful, according to the few testimonies, nor excessively smart. A dull girl, from a dull village in northern Germany.
Everything about her at the time, screamed bland and insignificant to Albus.
The thought had consumed him for months and years.
After the historical duel that landed Gellert in Nurmengard for good, Albus had finally come face to face with the witch.
Greta had offered to cooperate with justice in exchange for a lesser sentence. Given Leonie's tender age, the Ministry had granted Greta house arrest for life and confiscation of her wand, and she got to keep her child and live a secluded, but quite comfortable life.
Albus had met Greta for the first time during the trial and he still remembers the fire behind the woman's eyes, her determination and the sadness. The sadness of a woman that couldn't help but love the man who had ruined her life.
Years later Greta told him how she had seen that same sadness mirrored in Albus eyes. She had confessed her version of the story, she had told him how much she had hated him in turn.
Stuck next to a man who had kept her only because he had glimpsed at a possible powerful offspring during one of his foretelling episodes, Greta had looked from afar, swallowing bitter bile in knowing that however far they were, Gellert's heart had always remained with Albus and that she had never stood a real chance.
Albus and Greta's relationship had flourished from their bond with Gellert, however absurd it sounded, and hatred had quickly become love and friendship, respect and solidarity.
The two of them learned to know each other, perhaps better than Gellert had ever bothered to know either of them, or so they liked to think.
They had each been the parts of Gellert the other needed in order to stand the absence of the man himself.
Albus had suffered a great deal when Greta had died.
Soon he had given in onto his old weakness. He had used Leonie as an excuse to seek Gellert. Leonie was his daughter after all, he couldn't have brought her up himself…
Except he could have, and easily too. Merlin forgive him, Greta forgive him, he had been just so weak and lonely and tired. Tired of being angry, tired of pretending to have forgotten about Gellert.
A soft breeze blows through his beard and Albus flinches slightly.
"Didn't think you'd want to come here, of all places." he says breaking the odd silence, "Are you suddenly nostalgic?" he adds with perhaps a drop of ancient jealousy steeped in his tone.
Gellert peeks at him from over his shoulder, his lips curl slightly in amusement, and Albus looks away quickly.
"You know I didn't love her. Never loved her. She knew too." Says Gellert, awkwardly kneeling on the grave in a creak of old bones. Albus takes a step forward, instinctively extending his arms to help the man in the descent, but he stops before actually touching him.
His hands fall back along his sides and he purses his lips.
"What are we doing here, Gellert? It won't take long for the Aurors to find us. We should head back. The girl might need help still…"
"Greta darling, you knew, right?" Gellert smiles a toothless smile at the grave, "I'll admit though, you were a feisty little witch and ze most beautiful flower, really. Maya would have liked you."
Gellert drops onto his bony butt with a grunt, then he pats at the ground next to him without even looking back, Albus sighs.
He transfigures some grass blades in a bunch of daisies and puts them in a vase on the white grave before sitting next to Gellert.
"You didn't deserve her, for the record." he says extracting a hoarse laugh from the throat of the man next to him.
"I thought you couldn't stand the woman, now you take her side?" Both keep their eyes on the grave in front of them but Albus can see, from the corner of his eye, that Gellert is twirling the Death Stick between his fingers.
An old habit that he hasn't lost, apparently.
In almost all of Albus' memories, Gellert is twirling a wand, playing with it or tapping it rhythmically on the surface of choice. If he wasn't playing with a wand he was surely using one, transfiguring, summoning, creating something out of thin air.
That man and his magic are just inextricable. It is only now that Albus realizes how agonizing it must have been for Gellert to be locked up without the possibility of using his power for so long. No wonder he didn't hold back in using the more primitive and dark forms of his magic on the first occasion.
"She was my friend and I loved her. We've been through so much when you left…"
Gellert snorts at those words and mutters something along the lines of 'well if you hadn't locked me up…' but his voice fades when Albus cuts him off.
"Oh, if it hadn't been prison it would have been the next adventure, Gellert. You were never the quiet family man and you further proved that with Maya. Believe it or not, grandfathers don't usually send their granddaughters fighting absurd crusades against psychotic mass murderers."
Albus watches silently as the daisies on Greta's grave start changing color. From white to purple, then fuchsia, blue and white again. Gellert is not even focusing, yet his magic is buzzing and twisting around them. Flowers are blooming all over the landscape and the earth is celebrating his freedom.
"And what do grandfathers do, Albus? Let me guess… do they betroth one-year-olds just to spite a former lover? Friends… We both know you stood to their side only because that was the closest thing to me you could have without getting hurt."
"Humble... as always. It might surprise you, Gellert, but the world doesn't revol…" Albus gets cut short by Gellert's sly smile.
The man leans back supporting himself with one arm while he keeps twirling his wand in his free hand.
"Except it does. Your world has always revolved around me. Oh admit it, Albus." Albus finally turns to look at Gellert. The light of the sunset has lit his white iris red.
For a moment Gellert looks younger, more like the man he remembers rather than the undernourished and worn out skeleton he is now.
"All I'm saying is Greta was more than you deserved. And I loved her. We were both more than you deserved." Albus snaps.
"Yet I have had both of you and Maya as vell. Guess I still have my charm, don't I? I still get what I want, don't I?" Gellert grins meeting Albus' gaze and then holds the Elder wand between them as the irrefutable evidence of his sentence. As if Albus being there in the first place, wasn't proof enough.
"So why are we here? You got what you wanted," Albus ignores the satisfied grin that appears on Gellert's face at his implicit admission, "You killed Riddle. You escaped. Maya was rescued. You stole the Elder wand back, and secured the other Hallows, which are waiting for you wherever James Potter is. What now? Do we wait for the Aurors? Do we duel again or are you walking back to your cell on your own this time?"
Gellert doesn't answer right away, he seems to deflate though and his gaze gets more intense.
Albus can see the daisies change color again. Pink, baby blue, black, purple. Until Gellert speaks again.
"I killed the villain. You, none other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, freed me. I SAVED children from a murderer. I helped the authorities, I saved hostages..." Albus snorts.
"You used blood magic, threatened Aurors and dueled a sixteen years old boy. You also killed at least a 100 wardens in the process… do we forget about them?"
"Little more than criminals themselves… the world won't miss them. And I didn't fight the boy... I toughened him up a little."
"How convenient… why do you care so much for these technicalities anyway? Trying to redeem yourself?"
"You could say that... you zee… the way you put it, I'm still Grindelwald, the public enemy, the revolutionary madman… yes ze murderer if you will." He dramatically rolls his eyes, "Although, the way I see it, there will now be at least a tiny group of people questioning the past... wondering 'was he really that bad?'"
"I didn't know you still cared about what people thought." Albus shrugs, "I thought you'd be more focused on the fact that you are the actual owner of the Deathly Hallows and a freeman, until I drag you back in your cell that is…"
"It's not about what people think of me. Not about the Hallows either. And you can stop pretending I'll let you, or anyone else, drag me anywhere, ist getting ridiculous." Gellert sighs, he keeps his mismatch eyes on the daisies which are now a bright yellow, "I partially restored the family name, yes. I created doubt. I'm giving her a chance. I guess she deserves it…"
"You're creating a group of followers for Maya? What if she doesn't want to follow into your steps? Bloody Salazar, Gellert…"
"I didn't say she had to uze them to follow into my steps. I just wanted to shape her up a little, give her a chance at the life she will choose. I never intended for it to get this far… I didn't know Riddle would turn out to be so dangerous… he was supposed to be training ground… not scar her for life. I might be a sick bastard, Albus, but Maya no… never to her."
Albus' heart starts pounding painfully in his chest and his hands start shaking as he holds Gellert gaze.
"Training? What were you training her for if not to be just like you?"
"Albus… When I found Maya, she waz miserable. She waz lonely and oh so powerful and so afraid of that power. We were powerful, Albus, young and powerful but never scared of our power. She was. She was terrified, in fakt. The more powerful she grew, the more secluded she got.
"I had to do somezing. These?" He says raising the wand before his eyes, "These were for her, never for me. Ze world you built can be quite cruel, you know?" Gellert scoffs as Albus glares at him, refusing to argue about the International Statute of Secrecy of all things, "With all that power, with her name and those eyes… Maya needed to be the strongest version of herself, or she would have been crushed."
"She was scary powerful, Albus… I helped her embracing it, I guided her, but sometimes I felt so inadequate." He admits reluctantly, "At first, I thought I'd use her power to break free. A fresh start, together with the fierce warrior I had glimpsed at long ago. A woman wiz my eyes, my power and the purest of hearts." Gellert sighs "But then…"
"You fell in love."
Gellert nods, like a little boy admitting to stealing cookies from the jar.
"Again, Albus... It was visceral and consuming. When she felt lonely I had to be there."
"When she felt less than that stupid little Malfoy boy, I had to show her how much more powerful she could be. And she learned so quickly." His voice seems to come from far away, from the deepest of his soul and Albus can't do anything but listen and let the tears roll down his cheek and into his beard. "And when ze world made her feel wrong, insignificant and odd I needed her to have ze wand, my wand, so that she could feel powerful, so that if they couldn't love her, they would have feared her." He almost growls the last words out.
"And then she… she fell in love with that prat you picked for her. She was stubborn and weak when it came to him, and I wanted her to have ze cloak, so that she could protect what was precious to her."
"Why are we here, Gellert?" Albus wipes the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, Gellert smiles.
"When she thought she hadn't a purpose, I gave her task. Find the Hallows, go to school, drive Dumbledore mad… live… experience… eat ze world, change it, make it however you like it the most. Make Grandpa proud." Gellert scoffs to himself, "Who would have thought all of this mess would hafe happened instead…"
"Gellert…?"
"At least, we did get all of the Hallows, mh? She will need that stone or she will be stuck with you boring people all ze time… and I wouldn't wish that upon our little girl."
"Why are we here, Gellert?" Albus asks, trying to ignore the part of him that already knows the answer.
"Here, ist perfekt, Greta deserves to see it done, she probably would have killed me sooner or later anyway. Did she tell you she tried poisoning me once?"
"Twice…"
"Right… I thought it would be fair to have her watch." He smirks at the white grave, "Ist perfekt with just us. Me and the two idiots who I tricked into loving me, mh?"
"Maya… she loves you too. This… this is not… how…"
"Why ze sad face, Albus? I told you it would have been you."
"I don't want it to be me, I've never wanted it to be me!" Albus blurts out before he can do anything to stop. He can hear the panic in his own voice, he is hyperventilating already and Gellert seems pleased if anything. Which adds rage to Albus whirlwind of feelings.
"What am I supposed to do, Liebe meines Lebens? [Love of my life] I'm too old for politics, too proud to go back to a cell, too tired to run away, too powerful to hide. I gave her what I could. I almost messed up again. Hopefully she doesn't hate me yet. It's time."
"You could apologize, That might be even better."
"If you think about it, none of this would have happened if you hadn't been so fucking stubborn when I asked to be killed the first time…" Gellert grins mischievously, "Fine! Pass along my apologies, will you?"
"Don't you dare..." Albus sniffles, "You are cruel and selfish, Gellert. I don't want to be the one doing it."
"But… it ist you. It has always been just you. Zon't you see? It ist only right for it to end wiz you. Us."
"We've been over this so many times… I won't do it, Gellert."
"Don't you love me, Albus?"
"You're not being fair."
"Merlin, Albus, why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time…"
Albus shakes his head with the same stubbornness he had had when he was in his thirties.
Gellert blinks a couple of times, but all he sees before him, is the young blond Albus of his youth. His tall, serious-looking, proud, smart English man.
"KILL ME, ALBUS!" he had screamed, surrounded by the infernal flames consuming the world around them. Albus had immediately dropped his wand as if it burned.
The Elder wand was lost, the duel was coming to a close, they both knew it.
"I love you too much." Albus had cried wiping away the tears from those big blue begging eyes. Gellert had been torn between slapping his stupid face right there and then and pull the man into a side-along apparition to shag him back to reason.
He had slapped him. Hard.
"Love me!? How can you… how dare you… Are you mental!?" he had hissed viciously.
"I love you, Gellert, I wish I didn't!"
"Just kill me. I killed her remember? AVENGE YOUR SISTER, ALBUS! Isn't this what this ist about!?" He had yelled grabbing Albus wrist and shoving the wand in his trembling hand. When Albus hadn't reacted, Gellert himself had pressed the tip of the wand against his own throat, "Do it, now, Albus. Please, I beg you, there's no cage that will hold me if you don't." But when had Albus ever done what he said? He hadn't killed him, the fool.
Gellert's heart tightens with nostalgia and regrets. He pulls himself together and coughs a little.
"Do you think it would have been different if I had known about Ariana?"
"If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there'd be no work for tinkers' hands, Albus. And here we are."
"You could keep the Hallows and stay hidden and we would…"
"No."
"What about Maya? What about Leonie? Don't you want to see them again?"
Gellert snorts, the sun starts to set and his white eye turns a pale orange, same as the daisies.
"Leonie hates me, she has always hated me, not that I care. I knew I had to have a daughter because I had had a vision, but when Leonie opened her eyes the first time, I was seized by doubts. Leonie's eyes were identical to that of Greta and I didn't understand, Albus. I didn't know at the time that I had glimpsed at the wrong future generation, I didn't know… so I just kept my distance from her, I thought she waz a mistake."
"You could still make it up to her, to both of them… Maya won't understand, she wants you by her side, she wants you, not the Hallows."
"Maya has all she needs. She has ze family you wanted for her, she has ze power I wanted for her. She will have the power to see me again… Though, who knows if she will ever want to see me again after what she saw in Nurmengard, after what I did to her… or him… ugh."
"Did you have to knock her unconscious? She was so fragile already… what if you pushed too far? Are you sure she's still… she's fine?"
"Ze wand... it had to be true to me... I was too weak to use wandless after the escape and the blood magic and zat boy, I might have slightly underestimated him. Maya, she is fine. She will be. But, you will have to go back soon, check on her. I have warded her magic, sealed part of it." Gellert says.
"Mh… was it necessary?"
"Yes. Her magic was trying to restore her body from within with no knowledge on how to do so, it might have been a problem for ze healers."
"Maya will be fine. And the wand will return happily in her hands. Treacherous little stick."
They sit there in silence for a while before anyone speaks again, the daisies are cyan when Albus looks back in that direction.
"I don't like the idea of a world without your stupid face in it." Albus sighs.
"You are too old to pout." Gellert smirks.
"Oh, shut up, Dummkopf." [idiot]
"You will do it…? For me, yes?"
Albus says nothing, but his silence is as good as an answer and Gellert seems to finally relax.
Gellert lets the wand drop in the tall grass and laces his fingers in Albus'.
Even if his hands are still covered in blood. Even if he is a murderer. A manipulative arse. Even if he's leaving without him again, Albus lets him hold his hand.
What does that say about me? He wonders as his heart refuses to stop beating for the monster sitting next to him.
Gellert's magic creeps under the fabric of Albus robe, it caresses his skin and spreads around them.
"If you really vant to pout, you should be as charming as you used to be while you're at it, old man."
"This is ridiculous, Gellert ... we are too old for this" Albus turns around and his heart sinks at the sight of Gellert, now transfigured into a younger, extremely handsome, well dressed young version of the man.
Their hands are not wrinkled anymore. Gellert's hand is pale and smooth and strong in Albus' freckled one, there is a small tattoo between Gellert's thumb and his index finger and Albus tightens his grip on him unconsciously when he spots it.
"Much better, isn't it?" Gellert leans in a little closer and whispers smugly, "You look handsome."
Albus smiles weakly but refuses to hold his gaze.
"This is silly." He mutters and his own voice sounds so young and that Albus almost gasps out loud.
"I don't want to fight in the end. I don't want to misunderstand, presume and hold grudges. I want it to be just us, I want it to be like before everything went south, Albus. When things were easy and dreams were big. When you were this handsome and naïve…" Gellert tilts Albus chin up with a finger and grins when he still refuses to make eyes contact.
"What if I don't want to play your games?"
Gellert barks a short laugh and then shrugs.
"You've always wanted to play my games. In fakt, I think you've missed my games more than anything else."
"Be careful, Gellert, I might think you're getting sentimental."
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm sentimental in my sick and twisted way. I'm about to cease existing, I can allow myself a little weakness, can't I?"
"It feels a bit late for that."
"Forgive me, Albus. Is it late for zis too?"
Their eyes finally meet. Gellert's gaze becomes scorching, his magic is buzzing and humming around them, or is it Albus' heart now thumping in his ears at an absurd rhythm?
Albus forgets to breathe for a moment there, lost in the cruel beauty of the only man he has ever loved.
Albus wonders if Gellert was right.
Maybe he does not hold the universal definition of love indeed. Maybe love is different for everyone. Maybe in this prospective, Gellert has loved them all in the only way he knew how to. It might have been sick and twisted, but still.
Before Gellert can say anything else, Albus simply raises his wand and the familiar silver phoenix springs from its tip, flying gracefully to land on Greta's grave. Gellert admires the bird in a contented silence.
"I have forgiven you a long time ago. In fact, I don't think I have ever really been mad at you in the first place, I knew I had to, but I wasn't really. Silly, mh?" But Gellert is still looking at the phoenix in awe.
"After all this time, Albus. After all the hurt we've caused to each other..."
"Always."
Gellert nods.
Albus brushes the tiny phoenix tattooed on Gellert's hand.
"I'll vait for you on ze other side, you know? Zis ist not over yet."
"Can we stay a little longer…?"
"Yes, a little longer. I'm tired. So tired." Gellert rests is blond head against Albus shoulder and closes his eyes. His cheeks are pink and his eyelashes so long. How handsome.
"Mh... hold the transfiguration though. I don't want to see your ugly toothless face. How did someone so handsome turn so horrid?"
"Shut up," Gellert laughs "You would kiss my toothless face all the same."
"Who said anything about kisses?"
"As if you're not thinking about it, Albus… Why can't really blame you…"
"No leglimancy!"
"Ich habe dich vermisst, Liebste." [I missed you, dearest]
"It is so quiet up here."
"Mh…"
"It has been an interesting life, Gellert. Chaotic, but interesting."
"It really has been, mh? About that kissing thing…"
Maya's awakening occurs gradually.
The first time Maya swims near the banks of her conscience, it is quite the surreal experience. It doesn't last very long and she is not fully aware of anything, nor she bothers wondering about why, where or what.
She only knows she exists again.
Like a newborn baby, she is content with that.
She exist and that's overwhelming as is.
The second time, Maya is conscious long enough to feel her physical boundary. She can't move her body, nor wish to move it, she is just aware that her body is there. It's definitely there. Maya can almost feel her essence press against the walls of her skin.
Her core moves restlessly in the warm envelope of flesh and blood, aware to a certain extent that something is wrong. Something is broken and it causes pain.
Maya does not have time to investigate further and slips again into the peace of oblivion, away from pain, away from that pungent sensation that suggests she should enjoy blissful ignorance while it lasts.
Sounds are the first bit of the outside world to slip into the muffled and comforting 'within' she is wrapped into.
The first time it happens, Maya find herself intrigued by a low, rhythmic sound.
A rustle of air, a soothing and regular whisper, that soon lulls her back into the further and most silent nothingness.
It happens several times until she finally recognizes it as the sound of her own breathing.
On that same occasion, her body kindly informs her of the end of her aches. Something within suggests it's too early to wake up though, and trusting her instinct Maya doesn't even try.
She can perceive time passing by. She wouldn't know how much has passed but she can definitely tell that it is passing.
She has a vague grasp on the surrounding world, although her ability to distinguish voices and sounds is still quite poor. It is frustrating to some degree but it leaves Maya time to question herself about what is actually happening.
Where is she? Why is she there? Who is moving around her? When will this end? Is she even alive? Is this what death is like?
And then one day, someone is crying beside her. The voice is so familiar that Maya thinks it is absurd not to recognize it…
Je suis ici. Ne pleure pas. Je suis ici. [I'm here. Don't cry. I'm here]. She repeats inside her head instinctively. The crying does not lessen. It saddens her to no end, it squeezes her heart. It also gives Maya a glimpse on the darkness looming inside her own heart.
She should be sad, she knows she should be devastated, except she doesn't remember why.
Je suis ici.
The words never work their way up to her lips and she just lays there, conscious for the longest time yet, listening to the wailing and sobbing and sniffling until she loses her fight against her stillness and surrenders back to the darkness.
Someone is screaming, there's a furious fight, glass shatters somewhere around her and then there's a loud slap and more screaming. There is an ominous crunch of magic and Maya feels her heart contract in fright.
She would like to scream, to open her eyes and break the boundaries imprisoning her, but her body does not cooperate.
Not just yet. A part of her whispers, and soon the noises fade away as they began, suddenly.
One day, without forewarnings nor further preparation, Maya is awake.
Her eyes open slowly, she blinks a few times before being able to contemplate the world beyond that thin skin curtain that is her eyelids.
The room is warm, bright and silent.
The ceiling above her is white and pristine.
Slowly she raises an arm and extends her fingers in front of her eyes.
She folds her fingers in a small fist and then stretches them out again. A sense of calm pervades her in finding that yes, she does indeed exist and yes she is indeed alive.
Maya examines her other hand then glances down at her feet, hidden by a thin layer of linen.
Maya wriggles her toes and almost euphorically giggles at the cheeky sight of her toes slipping into view when the sheet moves.
She's intact, wrapped in a ridiculously expensive nightgown that can be something only Leonie would think of, and she is somewhere that feels safe.
The room is richly furnished, familiar, clean.
Somewhere in her head flashes the memory of a damp and dark room with a lumpy mattress and crumpled walls. Her mind is slippery, overwhelmed by too many stimuli at once and Maya doesn't manage to hold that thought long enough to connect the dots.
There's a strong scent of medical herbs, she wriggle her nose in distaste and soon finds the source of the foul smell to be a little mortar abandoned on the chest of drawers nearby.
There is an empty chair beside her bed and books on her nightstand, together with a pitcher filled with what looks like cold lemonade. Her eyes linger on the rounded belly of the pitcher. Small water droplets run down the smooth surface and form a small puddle under its base.
The light linen curtains on the sides of the window flutter like clumsy ghosts driven by the lukewarm breeze that is blowing in. It is still Summer. Maya's gaze slips on the lush countryside beyond the open window. She definitely knows this place, but there's something different about it that won't let her place it exactly.
Maya closes her eyes when fatigue begins to obscure her vision. She feels the sting of tears behind her eyelids and rubs her face with her hands groaning.
She feels weak and confused. She must have slept for long time if her eyes are so unaccustomed to being used.
Combien de temps ai-je dormi? [How long have I slept?]
It is then that everything comes back to her. Realization strikes and Maya's eyes snap back open.
The ocean of pain that she had feared, invests her like a raging storm.
Despair pulls Maya back down into the soft cushions behind her head, panic drowns her.
Her breathing becomes erratic, she gasps, blinks several times and brings her hands to her throat. The walls are closing in on her and her body starts twitching while a high-pitched voice in her head screams 'CRUCIO' over and over.
'JUST KILL THE GIRL ALREADY!'
Riddle. The sound of her bones shattering under the Cruciatus. The bodies. Gellert. Blood. Blood everywhere. The Horcrux. Her magic won't work, she can't control it. Tonks is being tortured and there's nothing she can do, the sound of blood gurgling in the woman's throat echoes in Maya's head louder and louder. POTTER. Where is Potter!?
Maya's stomach tightens violently, she suddenly sits up and vomits spectacularly over the edge of the bed, just as the door to her room opens.
"It's all right. Shhh. All right. We're all fine. Scourgify" Maya's big eyes meet the shiny ones of the hoary wizard. They just stare at each other for a silent moment then Maya bursts into sobs before she can do anything else.
Dumbledore's hand moves in slow circles on her back and he sits on the edge of the bed.
Maya rests her forehead against the man's chest, he holds her in his arms as she sobs and cries all her tension out. He rocks her lightly, shushing her while she trembles and spasms.
"Breathe, breathe. Everyone is fine. You're safe. We're all safe. We're home."
When Maya regains regular breathing, Dumbledore lets her go. She is mortified to notice the large wet stain on Dumbledore's sky blue robe, where her face was, but he doesn't seem bothered by it and soon her faint blush fades.
"Welcome back. How are you feeling?"
"Confused." Her voice is hoarse and odd to hear, "How long… has it been?"
"Why, it would be 17 days today." He informs her.
Maya's jaw drops.
"What happened?" this time it comes out as a whisper, "Is this place…?"
"Malfoy Manor." Dumbledore confirms. Maya takes another quick look at her surroundings and, with a bit of context, finally recognizes the room as her own. She had spent several Christmases in the Wiltshire estate.
As the Manor was closest to Draco's school, it was easier for the family to gather there during the holidays than in France. Of course the landscape was usually covered in a thick blanket of snow whenever she visited, which must be the reason why she hasn't been able to recognize the place immediately.
"Why are we here? Riddle? Harry! Harry was in the house! Riddle wants Gellert! He wants ... the Horcrux!" The panic in Maya's voice is a crescendo, she struggles to free herself from the sheet and throws her legs over the edge of the bed but then has to stop when her head starts to spin violently at the motion.
"Hey there! Breathe, Maya. We waited a long time for you to wake up, if Mr. Malfoy knew I caused you a heart attack I think he wouldn't even bother using his wand to smother me to death!"
"Draco! Is he here?" Maya glances around as if expecting the boy to pop out from behind a curtain.
Dumbledore must have known that the mention of Draco would have caught her attention, and he smirks a little when her gaze returns to his.
"We're all here, we're all fine. Draco was dragged down to dinner by a particularly insisting Mrs. Granger a little while ago, but he should be back soon. I bet finding that you have woken up while he was gone will provide for a fabulous argument later on…"
"Granger ... is here?" Maya lets Dumbledore help her sit in bed again, he fixes some pillows behind her back and the pitcher on the bedside table pours her a glass of lemonade, which flies a moment later into Maya's hands.
"Everyone is here. After Nurmengard, your family gathered in Malfoy Manor, you were too weak to return to France and many members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Lucius and Gabriel, had to be questioned by the Ministry and Wizengamot anyway. Malfoy Manor has become something of a small headquarters in the past few weeks. Besides, your friends didn't want to leave until you woke up, they also didn't want to leave Draco alone." He winks.
"My... friends?" Maya stammers furrowing her brows in confusion.
"Maya, I didn't think I'd be lucky enough to be able to talk to you in private so soon, but here we are." Dumbledore says smiling, Maya takes a sip from the glass and almost moans at the relief that the fresh lemonade causes sliding down her throat. It is quite a struggle to return her focus on Dumbledore after that.
""There will surely be time to explain to you how things went after the release of Harry Potter and the destruction of the Horcrux, the death of Tom Riddle and the arrest of almost all of his followers. I'll provide all the details." Dumbledore smiles at her, but cuts her off when her lips parts to ask something, "There will be time to explain everything, I promise. I have to take advantage of the little time we have now to discuss some things with you before someone interrupts us."
At this point Maya hangs from every word. She is so entranced and overwhelmed by the little amount of spoilers he has given her, especially the bit when he has let her know that Riddle is dead, that she has to physically shake herself out of her thoughts to nod and urge the older wizard to continue.
"I'm sorry, it will be a little overwhelming, especially considering that you have just woken up, but I'll try to be concice and as soon as we finish I will let you be with Mr. Malfoy and your family, is that ok?"
Maya nods and puts the glass back on the bedside table, as if needing to remove any possible distraction "Ok."
"First of all, you'll find it hard to perform magic right now." Maya's horror must be so obvious on her face that Dumbledore hurries to continue explaining, "This is because they have given you potions that suppress your power, which is completely intact and only slightly out of control due to the serious head damage you suffered as a result of the torture inflicted to you. It'll take some recovery but you're perfectly fine." Maya visibly relaxes although her face is still tense at the idea of someone meddling with her power.
"Now that you're awake, I'm sure the potions will wear off soon enough and you'll be as good as new."
"So... in Nurmengard when I couldn't dose my power... it was... the injuries?"
"Well, I didn't know you had noticed back then, but yes. You were in pretty bad shape, little one. I was surprised you could perform any kind of spell with the injuries you sustained."
Maya nods and glimpses at her hands, as if trying to spot the power beneath her skin, she feels extremely relieved now.
"We can partially be grateful to Gellert for your relatively quick recovery. He has applied some sort of inner ward before handing you over to Draco, so that your magic wouldn't repel the Healers' attempts to heal you. When I came back, all I had to do was remove his wards and suggest the potions to the Mediwizards. Potions work slower but have fewer side effects."
"Why not us?"
Dumbledore gives her a questioning glance but the realization of what she means hits him a second later. His eyes fill with unshed tears and Maya's heart sinks into her chest.
"You… you said when YOU came back ... why didn't you come back together? Where?"
"Maya..."
"Where's my Gellert?" Maya is shaking violently against the pillows, her fists so tight that her knuckles are white as snow.
"Yes well... this is what I wanted to talk about, Maya... he chose for himself ... as always."
"No ..." her voice comes out strangled, "No, he couldn't. No ... he wouldn't have left me. No. I got the Hallows. Did you tell him!? DID SOMEONE TELL HIM?! He… he took the wand, he has the wand!" Dumbledore simply shakes his head no and a couple of tears come streaming down his wrinkled face. He leans forward and pulls Maya's nightstand drawer open. Maya glimpses at the three items in there and her eyes widen in horror.
"We did it. We did it. Why hasn't he taken these? He wouldn't leave me, not now…" Maya cries, but even she has issues believing those words.
"He was smiling in the end. Can you believe it? He went smiling ..." Dumbledore snorts softly, "I'm sorry."
The sight of Malfoy Manor from the elaborate gardens surrounding it, is truly something. Hermione can't help but think of the castles she read about in fairy tales as a child. Perhaps the only other place that has given her the same feeling is Hogwarts, especially seen from the Black Lake.
Truth is she likes it.
She complains with Molly and Lily about the Manor being too big, about the rooms being countries apart, about the absurd albino peacocks roaming around the gardens and mercilessly pecking at anything that is unfortunate enough to step into their path, but the truth is Hermione has fallen in love with every room of the Manor, from the cozy sunroom to the enormous library. From the luxurious, and quite pretentious, bathrooms with pool-sized marble bathtubs to the crowded attics where the boys hide the booze and drink at night while she glares at them intently.
The idea that she will soon return to her own home and leave this magical place stings a little.
Of course, she can't wait to hug her parents, whom she hasn't yet seen since Nurmengard, if not during her long floo calls home, but she is not sure to be ready to leave quite yet.
Hermione doesn't like the idea of going home before seeing Maya Laurent wake up to finally put a happy ending to this whole ordeal.
She does not like the idea of distancing herself, even if for a short time, from Harry, who now has to constantly be in her field of vision for her heart to work normally, a constant reminder that he is back and alive and well.
She also doesn't look forward to leaving the only other people, the Order Members, who can understand perfectly how she feels, because they have experienced exactly the same horror and pain, the same level of stress and frustration.
Secretly, and probably mainly, she doesn't like the idea of leaving Draco Malfoy, especially when he looks so hurt and heartbroken… especially when he seems to have opened up a little.
As her lips slightly curve downward with the last thought, Hermione purposely avoids turning toward the blonde Slytherin, who she can still see in her peripheral vision, and who she knows to be waiting for a chance to snap at her since she has dragged him out in the garden regardless of his will.
The dark aura coming from him is kinda working against her train of thoughts and Hermione fights to ignore it.
She bites the inside of her cheek and forces her gaze to stay on the Manor, so beautiful in the moonlight, so pretty and sparkling with the lights coming from the dining room, where the rest of the Order is still sitting around the dinner table, drinking and keeping each other company.
Lily, who has recently been released from St. Mungo's, has told Hermione that going back to Muggle London might be a good thing and that she herself would like to take a break from everything and drag Harry and James, possibly Sirius too, far away from this whole thing.
Obviously dragging Harry anywhere further than the Manor gardens, would be an almost impossible feat right now. He has refused to move out until Maya regains her senses, and oddly enough he has had full support from Malfoy on the topic.
The two former enemies seem to be attached at the hips nowadays. Wherever Draco goes, Harry follows and whenever Draco snaps, which is quite often, Harry is the one who can distract him and save the situation. Harry is also the only one who is apparently allowed to enter Maya's room without having to ask for Draco's permission, without having to storm in it, like Hermione does everytime Draco tries to skip a meal - by the way if someone had told her months ago that she would have quarreled with Draco Malfoy over her concerns about his health, Hermione would have laughed herself to tears.
The new odd friendship between the two boys, which Hermione suspects having a lot to do with Harry having spent a long time with Maya, is one of the reasons why the Potters have moved into the Manor, kicking off a slew of other transfers.
Over the past two weeks, in fact, the Manor has filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, whole families now reside on a more or less stable basis in the estate, most of them awaiting Maya's awakening, others taking advantage of the hospitality of the Malfoys to escape the hordes of journalists and paparazzi chasing for the story of their lives, others, simply to stay in a safe environment pending their own hearings with the Ministry.
Along with the Phoenixes, a small army of international Healers now live in the Manor too. Gabriel Laurent has hired la crème de la crème, he has spared no galleon, to treat, not only his daughter, but anyone in need.
Not surprisingly, most of the Manor's inhabitants, including Hermione, Harry, Ron and, since he is been back, Dumbledore, immediately took the opportunity for therapy sessions with some of the best therapists and Occlumancers in the whole world.
During the first few nights, the damage left by Riddle had echoed in the Manor in the form of tears and screams. Nightmares had tormented everyone, they infested the house and made the breakfast table silent and tense.
However, since the therapy sessions, the screaming episodes had already diminished considerably.
Riddle is dead, but it's still hard to believe. Hermione has wanted that man dead so intensely ... and now that he is, it almost feels like it is not enough.
It pisses her off to no end that despite the fact that he's dead and gone, he has been able to leave behind such a trail of pain that it's still hard to move on. Sometimes Hermione wishes she had stayed and watched Gellert Grindelwald squeeze the life out of the man. It might have helped her to actually see it happen.
Tom Riddle shouldn't be worth their pain. Tom Riddle shouldn't be that important. It is simply infuriating.
As it is infuriating that because of that man, these feelings of hatred still circulate venomously in her system, poisoning her thoughts.
Hermione shakes that negative thought away and returns to focus on her surroundings, the cheerful voices of Fred, George, Ginny, Harry and Ron, echo in the twilight-colored countryside.
The Gryffindors are running around in circles, playing a broom-less version of Quidditch.
Hermione breathes in and smiles at the sight.
"Are we done here, Granger?" Draco intrude her moment of inner peace, and Hermione has to stop pretending not to see him. She rolls her eyes before landing them in his mercurial ones.
"Your mother said you needed some fresh air. You can't just lock yourself in that room all day, Draco."
"Oh for fuck sake, first dinner now this..." He scoffs and drops on his bum in defeat, Harry isn't here to back him up right now and he must be too tired to start another argument, they had had a furious quarrel not an hour earlier, when Hermione had dragged him downstairs to have dinner.
Hermione drops next to him and leans slightly toward the Slytherin until their arms are touching, she ignores his murderous glare until it fades into a defeated pout.
"She will be fine."
"Whatever..."
"How do you think she will take the news of Grindelwald?"
Draco hugs his knees and rests his chin on them before answering.
"Not well, but honestly I just want her to wake up now ..." Hermione feels that his tone softens and she relaxes. She has noticed how at certain times of the evening, Draco is more willing to open up and she has learned to use those moments to help him let off some of his steam and worry.
"She will wake up, Draco. You know that, right? She will."
"You're all saying it, but it's been 17 days and she hasn't moved yet..."
"Give her time, Draco. She was in a pretty bad shape, but she's strong, soon it will all be over and we will all be back to school."
At those words Draco snorts and shakes his head no, "I'll be damned if I let her anywhere near Hogwarts again… or out of my sight for the matter."
Hermione can't hold back a chuckle, "Don't be silly, Draco. You can't keep her locked up in the house forever."
"You'll see if I can."
Hermione's gaze becomes a defiant one, "And you think you can keep the Conqueror of Death locked up and away from the world?" Bingo. Draco's eyes widen and his tone is slightly alarmed afterwards.
"How... did you know? When?"
"Mh ... let's see." Hermione smiles at Draco's worried gaze, "To be honest, it took me a while to figure it out and I had to ask Dumbledore for some of the details.
"I read the tale years ago at the Burrow, but I never thought anything of it. However, when I saw the book on Maya's bedside table, I was able to put two and two together. I remembered you told me about the wand Dumbledore gave Maya when she came to school. Then I remembered when you saw Harry's cloak in the library.
"Then obviously Harry told me how he destroyed the Horcrux, and he also told me that Maya had asked him to bring the gem back to her if possible ... The wand, the cloak and the stone... It made sense. Was that the purpose from the beginning? Did Maya want the stone from Riddle? Is that why she got caught up with him in the first place?"
"Sounds so stupid now, doesn't it?"
Hermione refrains from replying that yes, it sounds more than stupid, but that it also makes sense. If Gellert Grindelwald himself, with Dumbledore of all people, had devoted part of his life to the search for the Deathly Hallows, surely it was not that surprising that his granddaughter would try the feat as well.
"We thought that if we managed to get them all, we would finally be free from all of the expectations. You really don't know what it was like to be… us. It wasn't always like this… our parents weren't this nice…" He hugs his knees closer and turns slightly to look at Hermione, his grey eyes are two pools of sadness right now, so deep that Hermione could drown in them and she has to look away when her treacherous heart skips several beats at once.
"Maya thought that if she managed to put Gellert back in a position of power, we could have had a more normal life. She will be upset when she finds out that it wasn't even his true plan. And now that we are even more in the spotlight, I wonder how many chances at normalcy we actually have..."
"Not many if you intend to keep her locked up and away from the world. Especially now that all spot lights are on you, it will only increase gossips and suspect. It might be the perfect chance to get exactly what you wanted, instead. Use the public, use gossip, turn people on you side and slide into normalcy. I can't imagine your childhood, but things are different now. Now you're not alone, you wouldn't be even if you wanted and the proof is that the Manor is full of people who want nothing more than to see her awaken, while they regarded her with fear and prejudice not even six months ago."
Draco looks at the Manor as if he could see the people beyond its walls, then his eyes move to the group of Gryffindors still passing the snitch to each other not too far from where they are sitting. Perhaps for the first time in those weeks, Hermione glimpse at a sign of hope beyond Draco's clear gaze.
"We'll see. I might be open to a different solution. IF it's what she wants." he adds, and Hermione smiles to herself but the smile immediately disappears when she notices the tear that lines Draco's face, "But what happens if she doesn't wake up, Granger? If I never get to…"
"Don't even think about it. She will wake up." Hermione insists, "Remember, Conqueror of Death, right? If she really is the owner of the Deathly Hallows, there's no way she won't wake up.
Draco murmurs something incomprehensible, that sounds very much like 'fuck the Hallows' and wipes his face with the back of his hand.
He does not move when Hermione leans slightly towards him and rests her head on his shoulder.
At first she does it without thinking, is what she would do with Harry or Ron, but as soon as her head collides with his warm shoulder and her eyes slide down the muscles of his bicep to his forearm, she realizes this feels nothing like Harry and Ron.
Her heart is exploding in her throat, but the fact that he has not moved away makes her think that maybe Draco needs a little affection right now, and Hermione manages to smother the butterflies in her belly soon enough.
She knows that sooner or later she'll have to do something about this stupid crush, but this is not the time. This is a time for healing, for friendship, for mending what Riddle has damaged, or attempted to.
"Maya Laurent, made far more impossible things possible," Hermione peeks up, Draco is not looking at her but is clearly listening, "Before she came to school, you and Harry couldn't even sit through a fricking class without getting on each other's nerves. You literally razed a castle floor to the ground fighting during out first term this year, and now? You share a room and he takes your side every time we argue. Harry Potter, Draco… Harry Potter picking Draco Malfoy over me." His lips curl slightly upward and Hermione feels encouraged to continue.
"Before Maya came to school if I accidentally brushed you while passing by, you would throw a fit about the filthy little Mudblood touching you ... shame on you for that by the way…"
"Yeah. Shame on me, indeed. I'm sorry about that… you know I…" But Hermione wasn't fishing for an apology and cuts him off before he can finish the sentence. The expression on his face tells her he is glad she did.
"And look at us now?" she snuggles slightly closer as to prove a point, "One would even dare to say we're friends… except for when you snap at me for trying to not let you starve yourself to death."
Draco snorts and a laugh bubbles his way up his throat, Hermione thinks this is the best sound she has ever heard, again she chases away the butterflies.
"Yeah, well somethings never change... like the way you gracefully dance on my nerves sometimes..."
Hermione shrugs chuckling, "Git!" she punches his shoulder and Draco makes a big show of suffering for the hit before letting her return to lean against him, "Anyway, the point is… Lucius Bloody Malfoy is sitting at the dinner table with James Potter as we speak... and let's not forget that he talked to my parents on a muggle phone... Lucius Malfoy has assured a pair of Muggles that he'd take care of their daughter." Draco grins knowingly, finally getting her point.
"Do you still think that recovering from a few cuts and bruises will be so difficult for a girl who has made all this possible? The girl who has conquered Death?"
"Maybe she'll even find a way to tame that wild beast on top of your head, when she wakes up, mh?"
"Prat."
They both chuckle.
"Will you…"
"I won't tell a soul, rest assured. I think we have had our share of power-drawn psychopaths for this lifetime. I might still borrow the cloak every now and then."
Hermione pulls away from the blonde Slytherin when she spots the group of Gryffindors approaching them in the dim light of the gardens.
Draco pulls her back and places a quick kiss on her temple before letting her move further away from him. When she looks back at him with wide eyes he is smirking his characteristic smirk and Hermione has to blink several times to try and set her brain back into motion.
"Thank you." His voice comes out so low that Hermione could have imagined it.
"Wh… why… you're welcome… I guess." She stammers just as the others get there.
"We should head back inside." Says Harry stretching a hand to help Hermione up, to her dismay, Harry is grinning knowingly at the redness of her cheeks.
Ron offers his hand to Draco, who surprisingly, accepts it and lets himself be pulled back on his feet.
"Let's go, before the adults are all too drunk to be bearable ... I swear if I have to hear my father raving about tevelisions again..." Ginny adds shaking her head when the sound of a toast reaches them from the open French windows of the dining room.
"Televisions ..." corrects Harry, exchanging an amused look with Hermione.
"Whatever..." Ginny sighs, blushing slightly after all.
It is at some point halfway to the path leading to the dining room, while Harry is trying to explain to Ginny and Draco what a TV series is, that from the inside of the Manor chaos breaks the quiet of the countryside. There's a deafening rumble of chairs dragged on the marble floor, a clang of glasses and cutlery, then voices, someone is screaming for Draco, and Hermione catches glimpses of people storming out of the dining room in a ruckus from the partially opened windows.
She instinctively huddles closer to Harry and everyone exchanges a worried look, hands sliding to their wands.
"What the ...?" Fred murmurs pulling Ginny between himself and George in a protective stance.
Hermione sees Draco's eyes widen in the direction of the Manor and when she turns to follow his gaze, she sees Dumbledore standing in front of the French door of the dining room.
The old wizard is just standing there, facing the small group of startled Gryffindors plus Draco, with a relaxed and kind smile on his wrinkled face.
Hermione does not even have time to process the thought that has crept into her mind at the sight of the Headmaster, but she knows for sure that it is the same thought that everyone else is having.
Suddenly three things happen very quickly.
Harry and Hermione both gasp in realization, Draco sprints at breakneck speed towards the Manor, and before anyone else can follow, the landscape around them explodes with life.
Billions of flowers are blooming all over the park and further away. The whole Wiltshire countryside is in bloom in a matter of seconds. There's flowers as far as the eye can see.
The creepers on the walls of the Manor are filling with honeysuckles of all varieties and colors, their sweet aroma overtakes any other smell and it almost overwhelms the senses, the colours are so bright that they are clear even in the dim light following the sunset.
"She's awake" whispers Hermione not noticing the tears spilling down her cheeks, "It's over, finally over."
The door to Draco's room opens with a slow creak, he smiles to himself without looking in the direction of the plush steps that are inexorably advancing in the dark.
" Tu es réveillé." [You're awake]
" Espériez-vous que je dormais?" [Did you hope I was sleeping?]
"Oh ... no. Au contraire, vraiment." [On the contrary, actually] she whispers and he can hear the grin on her face without having to see it. Draco grunts, more out of habit than any real discomfort, when he feels Maya's weight slightly tilt the mattress as she climbs next to him.
Her hands quickly sneak under his shirt.
A shiver runs through Draco's body. He blocks her hand, feeling it slipping dangerously towards the waistband of his trousers and finally turns to look at her.
"What's up?" she asks with obvious disappointment.
"Maya ... the Healers said you need to rest."
"But I'm rested."
"You came out of a 17-day coma just four days ago." Draco insists, ignoring the monster inside him who would like to care less about it. The monster roars even louder when she tries to overcome the barrier of his hand and touches an extraordinarily sensitive area under his navel.
"And you're already sleeping in your room leaving me alone. I thought it was an incentive to get back in shape. I got here on my own... haven't I? It must account for something..."
"Maya ..." Draco uses his warning tone, which does nothing but make her chuckle and try with renewed vigor to free her hand from his grasp to resume her Southern journey.
"I sleep in my own room, precisely to avoid this."
"But I don't want to avoid it."
"Maya. You. Must. Rest." Draco captures both her hands and uses his core to tip himself over and pin her on the mattress, he holds her hands high above her head and away from his trousers. The movement was supposed to restrain her, maybe even intimidate her slightly, discourage her from her intent... instead, Maya squirms happily underneath him, and the sound of her voice near his neck makes Draco think this was not a great idea after all. A part of him hardens shamelessly and Draco struggles to keep Maya oblivious about it, fearing it would only fuel her enthusiasm further.
"Draco, I need you." she whispers trying to press her pelvis against him. Draco almost comes undone with just that. Yes he is worried about her health, but he is also barely seventeen and Maya isn't wearing a bra under her extremely thin nightgown…
He growls and pulls back, locking her legs with his knees when she tries to wrap them around his waist.
Luckily the room is dark, otherwise she would have a perfect view on the tent in his pants.
"Maya, I said no. Sleep, okay? Stay here, but sleep." When she doesn't answer, Draco leans forward to give her a little peck on the lips, but he ends up laughing against said lips when he finds them curled into a very familiar pout.
"Why are you pushing me away?" she hisses turning her face to escape his amusement.
"Because I'm not going to make love to you, if it can interfere with your recovery."
"Mh ... and it has nothing to do with the wild-haired Gryffindor sleeping downstairs?"
Draco's jaw drops and he tightens his grip around Maya's wrists. He feels she has already sensed his anger but still hisses "Don't you dare insinuate such things, Maya. Don't. You. Dare."
She snorts, but drops the subject, if the lights were on, Draco is sure he'd see her blush furiously.
"I'm not that weak, you know? Believe it or not, I've survived worse things lately ..." she murmurs.
Draco unconsciously releases his grip when she hints to the torture she has suffered. Maya frees her hands and quickly puts them back under his shirt.
Slytherin.
But there is something Draco has to know, something he is horrified to ask. Maya seems to sense the tension because her hands stop moving.
"He... I mean… than man… has ... did he..." Draco stammers, unable to voice one of the thoughts that has tormented him most during her abduction, "Maya ... did he touch you? Did he do something..."
Maya gasps and he feels her fingers press firmly against his sides, as if she is suddenly worried he'd crumble if she doesn't hold tight.
"Oh no, Draco, no!" the relief washes over him like a wave and Draco take a deep breath, "Absolutely not. None of them have ever ... just ... in the forest, the last night. It was the only time he made me sleep in his room. He stared at me, all night" Her voice wavers and Draco doesn't make a sound, he doesn't even breathe, "I thought that maybe he would want to... but I also knew he was very weak by then, of course I was too, he hadn't given me enough Skele-Gro, he wanted me weak... anyway I feared he might do something but luckily… no. He spared me THAT."
"Oh Merlin." Draco drops back next to her, his chest heaving fast as he releases tension. Maya nestles immediately against him, in a less aggressive, more affectionate way than before. She caresses his ribs and chest in small circular patterns and rocks him slightly.
"Why haven't you asked sooner? In fact, why haven't you asked anything at all?" Draco pulls Maya slightly closer and waits until his breathing is even to answer.
"Maya, I was there when the Aurors and officials of three different Ministries of Magic examined you, I saw your look when you described the tortures of the last night in Riddle's house, what they did to Potter right before your eyes ... and Tonks ... I didn't want you to relive other horrors just to reassure me. It just... It was driving me mental." Draco says then.
"You can ask me anything. If it hurts too much, I'll tell you." Maya lifts herself up on his chest and stares at him in the darkness. Draco can see the outlines of her worried face now that he has gotten used to the darkness around them.
"How was it there?" he asks lamely.
"The house was horrible, just as daddy Lucius describes it. Riddle was not as crazy as in the end in the early days. At first he seemed to want to play family. He had given us some kind of roles, he was convinced that he would keep me with him forever. He tried to act like a father but it was really cringy. "
Draco tries not to tremble with anger, he wants to hear what she has gone through and is afraid that his reactions may inhibit her. Maya takes a break, as if she were reading his thoughts, she only resumes when she feels that he is ready for her to do so.
"That Horcrux changed him radically. Every day he became more paranoid, weak, and less and less lucid… he couldn't manage his anger, he would explode and his struggle was so obvious. Merlin only knows what would have happened had he managed to complete whatever absurd ritual he had in mind. He deserved what Opa did to him. Especially after… Tonks."
"No doubt about that."
"Sometimes I could hear Grandpa..." She says then, more to herself than anything else, Draco clenches his jaw, "Dumbledore told me what grandpa did to come and see me. Black magic. Blood magic. Of course if I had known..."
"Maya, what Grindelwald did, is not your fault. It never was. He was the adult between you two. He should have known better. And anyway, if he was there for you... I know that the end does not justify the means, but you were alone, there, with that madman ... I can't help but to feel kinda grateful to him for having kept you company in the only way he knew how…"
"Draco, he killed so many people..."
"I know."
There is a dense silence between them, which Draco breaks.
"Deathly Hallows." he murmurs, "Maya, what do you want to do with them?".
Maya stiffens against him and hesitates before answering.
"I don't know." She sighs, "The wand, do you think it's bad if I want to keep it?"
"No. I think that's the only wand that will ever be right for you and vice versa, to be honest."
"The stone ... I asked Dumbledore if he wanted it."
"What!?"
"I wanted to lend it to him, at least until I would feel like using it. He refused. He said he told Gellert everything he had to say. I think that sooner or later, not now, but sooner or later I will want to face him. Is it ok for you if I keep that too?"
"Sure. Just don't get involved in any odd plan of his... ever again…"
"Never again." she smiles against Draco's cheek on which she has leaned, with one hand she plays with his hair, twisting them around a finger.
"What about the cloak?" asks Draco.
"What would you do with it?"
"Mh ... I don't know. I think I know what you will do with it though."
"It was his to begin with."
"I don't know if I like this Gryffindor friendship ... will you become a bleeding heart loser too?"
"Shut up," she laughs, "Potter has conquered death as much as I have. He owed me nothing, and yet he risked it all for me..." she finishes the sentence halfway and gets lost in her thoughts.
"Yes, give him his cloak, to hide that scarred head of his."
"Are you by any chance ... jealous?"
"I'm not jealous."
"You are indeed." they laugh, Maya kisses him softly on the lips.
"It should have been me." He whispers against her lips. Saying it out loud feels almost like lifting a bludger off his chest.
"No, Draco."
"Yes. I should have been there with you. It was my… my duty. Instead… Maya I got distracted and I almost lost you forever. I don't deserve… any of this."
"Draco, what are you talking about?!"
"Potter almost died for you and where was I, Maya? Locked in a fucking safe house, doing nothing while they tortured you… and… and I…"
"Shut up." Her tone is so cold that it cuts him off instantly, "It was not your fault. You should not have been there. None of us should have. Not me, nor Harry. Potter got caught it the crossfire of something bigger than him. Do you think I would have wanted to watch as Riddle tortured you instead? Do you think I blamed you for leaving me? Draco, these past months have been pure madness. I can't have you blame yourself for something so fucking absurd."
"How can you not be mad? I wasn't there!"
"I AM MAD!" She snaps and Draco almost gasp out loud, "I am mad at Riddle! HE kidnapped me, HE locked me up, HE made me feel powerless, useless and alone. I'm mad at my grandfather for having played God with me. I'm mad at myself for falling into every fucking trap on my path, for having underestimated Riddle basing my judgement on his blood status… which I've learned to be complete bullshit by the way. But mad at you or our family? It doesn't make sense."
She kisses his cheek and Draco wipes away a tear and sniffles before speaking again.
"You're not mad at me then?"
"No."
"You're not mad at me." He repeats.
Maya shakes her head no, she attempts a smile, "And I also don't like Potter better than you just because he was there..."
"I never said that."
"You implied it."
"Bugger off..." he snorts and she sniggers softly, "What will we do now, Maya?"
"Mmm… we start fresh. No one would say no to me right now." A fresh start sounds good, Draco considers. There is no villain to fight, no expectations to fulfill, it's just them and whatever they want to do with their life now, well... within the limits of the freedom of choice of a Malfoy heir, of course, but this is still much more freedom than Draco has ever wished for.
"And by 'no one' I guess you mean Lucius and Gabriel…"
"Right." She grins, "We can do what we want. Choose the life we want."
"Will you marry me?" It blurts out automatically and Draco diverts his gaze from hers.
"Why are you asking?"
"If we can do what we want and choose the life we want… will you still choose me?" She tilts her head on one side slighlty and bites her lower lip, Draco adds "I wouldn't have known the answer to this question a couple of years ago but… yes, I'm a prat, but I know now, without a single doubt. I would always choose you. Always."
"Over and over again... I would choose you too." Maya doesn't hesitate in the slighltest. The words pour out of her naturally, as if the answer had always been obvious.
"Will you marry me, Maya?" Draco asks again.
She grins for a second too long and Draco knows what will be her request before she even says it out loud. He struggles not to smile.
"Of course I will marry you." She bites his lower lip playfully, "Will you let me go back to school coming September?"
"Mh…" Draco smirks and suddenly flips on his stomach again, pinning Maya underneath his body and bringing her hands over her head once more. She giggles in excitement and immediately wraps her legs around his waist "Let me think about it… is this a genuine request or a condition to our marriage?"
"A request, you prat!" Maya laughs openly then gives him a mischevious grin, any residue of heaviness is lifted from Draco's heart and he scoffs in disbelief.
"You sly minx... Why, could I really keep the Conqueror of Death from doing what she wants?" Her eyes widen.
"Can I really go? Go back to Hogwarts? Can I stay? Even when you graduate next year?"
"Ahah adding demands already?" he growls against her neck. She smells of summer and fresh grass, like salt water and honey. Draco licks and sucks the soft spot under her ear and Maya shudders but hold on to her demands.
"Is this a yes?"
"It's a maybe." He bites her earlobe.
"Draco!?" her magic buzzes against his skin leaving a trail of goosebumps on Draco's back.
"Yes, yes to whatever your heart desire, mon amour." He kisses her deeply, her tongue meets his and she tastes so sweet he could cry. Draco lets go of her hands and starts unbuttoning her nightgown.
"Draco?"
"Mh…"
"I should probably rest…" she chuckles when Draco freezes on the spot while nuzzling her chin. He relaxes immediately at the sound of her amused laugh.
"Tu aurais dû rester dans ta chambre, ma chérie." [You should have stayed in your room, sweetie.] Maya leans forward trying to capture his lips but Draco pulls back with a smirk.
"Vous devriez demander poliment." [You should ask politely] he whispers.
"Donnez-moi un autre.." [Give me another one.] Maya moans, grinding her warm centre against him, Draco brushes his lips against hers for just a second there, she parts her lips to beg once more but he doesn't let her to ask twice.