Chapter Three: Out of the Closet

Draco woke with the sun on his face; someone had opened the curtains. He sat up, groggily rubbing his eyes. His bruised arm ached, and he had a nasty headache.

"I brought your breakfast, Draco."

Draco gave a violent start and turned towards the door to see his mother standing there with a silver tray. She smiled weakly at him; there was an odd-colored spot on her cheekbone—something Draco had seen too many times before. It was a bruise his mother had tried to cover up with makeup, but the purple-dark still showed through.

"I thought you must be hungry after—after last night," Narcissa went on, moving to his bedside and setting the tray down on the bedspread. "So I brought you some toast, and some orange juice, and—" She paused, her eyes searching. "Draco… Do you really…"

"Good morning, mother," Draco said, reaching for the toast.

Narcissa gasped. "Draco! You—" She stopped as her eyes fell on the dark, muddy footprints leading from the door to his bed. "Oh good Lord."

Draco followed her gaze. "Rather inconsiderate of him, wasn't it?"

"Who was—how—" Narcissa shook her head. "We're going back to the psychiatrist today."

"I don't want to go," Draco said sincerely.

His mother pursed her lips. "Well…"

"I want to go back to school," Draco said suddenly. "Next week."

His mother's eyes lit up, but then she bit her lip. "Draco, do you think you're ready?"

"Of course I'm ready. More than ready. I've been gone for a year, mother, I really shouldn't miss any more…" Draco stared at his orange juice and thought of life at the school. It would be worth all the pain of going back if Kiyoshi was somehow there, waiting for him. He felt his mother watching him and looked away. "I feel like I could go back, now."

Narcissa stood, beaming. "Well—if that's what you want, I certainly can't—oh, I must tell your father!" She bustled out.

Draco's toast had suddenly gone tasteless. It grated against his throat as he swallowed. Kiyoshi, he thought. Where are you? Why won't you come back to me? Do you hate me so much? Or is it…could Kiyoshi still be running from his enemies—a terrifying, unstoppable force that he had only referred to as Them?

"You shouldn't go back to the school," Nuncio said seriously from the foot of his bed. Draco jumped a mile.

"Don't do that," he gasped, one hand over his pounding heart. Then he did a double take. "How did you do that?" He paused. "Oh—you must have Apparated."

Nuncio leaned forward and took a piece of Draco's unfinished toast. "No, I hid in the closet. I've got a lot of experience at sneaking around, and you're so preoccupied all the time that it's easy to sneak up on you."

Draco tried not to sound offended. "Oh." He watched Nuncio eat his toast for a moment, then looked out the window at the sun-bathed countryside. "What did you mean about not going back to school?"

"It isn't safe there." Nuncio sat on his bed, having finished the toast. "Kiyoshi specifically ordered me to keep you safe. So I can't let you go."

Draco drew himself up indignantly. "What's so unsafe about it? No one would dare attack me, not with all those wizards around. And what would you do to stop me, anyway?"

"Lots." Nuncio smirked. "I have powers beyond your comprehension. I could kidnap you and drag you off to some remote place and chain you to a palm tree, if I wanted."

"That's not a power!"

"That won't stop me from doing it."

Sighing, Draco pushed his breakfast tray aside. He could tell it was useless to argue with Nuncio, so he tried a different tactic. "What about my education? And what if Kiyoshi's there?"

Nuncio's shoulders went rigid. "He isn't. You think I didn't check? Listen, Draco, there are people there that could and would do you harm if they found out you're bonded to Kiyoshi. And even if they didn't, the instant anyone found out, They would know. They would come after you like they came after me. A life on the run, Draco, is that what you want?"

"No," Draco replied softly. "Who at the school would want to kill me?"

"Not kill you," Nuncio corrected. "They wouldn't want to kill you. You're too valuable. They would drag you into some dungeon and torture you until you told them where you've hidden Kiyoshi."

"But I don't know where he is!"

"I doubt they'd care."

Draco folded his arms over his chest. "Who, then? If you let me go, I'll keep an eye out for them. Potter's at the school all the time with who knows how many people wanting to kill him, and he's—unfortunately—still alive after all this time."

"Albus Dumbledore, for one," Nuncio replied coolly. Draco's mouth dropped open. "Also, any person there who has a hunger for power—and immortality. In short, you'd have the entire school after you."

Draco sat stunned into silence for a moment before he closed his mouth and swallowed dryly. "You mean—"

"Kiyoshi's power was halved when he was," Nuncio explained, "But he's still like a magic spring, reeking of power. Since you're bonded to him, you share it. And as long as he stays alive, so will you."

Draco didn't have much time to reflect on the novelty of being immortal; he tensed when he heard someone coming up the stairs. He looked to Nuncio, to tell him to hide, but he was already gone. A moment later, Narcissa opened the door to his room and stepped inside. "I've sent an Owl to the school," she said gleefully. "I told them you'll be returning on Monday."

Draco just nodded. Nuncio hadn't yet said that he would let him return to the school yet, but he didn't care. It'll be alright, he thought to reassure himself. Everything will be fine.