W&D - slash, language, themes. Not mine, I don't profit.
A/N - One warning - my mother tongue isn't English, and I don't have HP books on English, so I had to improvise on some parts. For example, I have no idea what's the real expression for that dust that allows wizards to travel through fireplaces, so I tried my best in describing (and naming ;)) it. Sowwy for the confusion. And thank you Moonlight Phoenix, Nox and Aloh Dark!! I appreaciate so much your support!! There, this for the three of you. My most faithful (and possibly only) readers ;). So, basically, you wanna know why, what and when? I comply.. But it'll take more than just one chap. Clue: look for small hints.
7. While II
It was the first time after three days of solitude the blond decided to come out in public again. Not much, though, but even dinning with the rest of Hogwarts seemed to be a task and a half. That's why he didn't do it really - instead, he woke up in the crack of dawn and went to eat with the few students that were awake. Awake and either ignoring him or piercing him with stares.
And by God he hated dawn.
Then, when the others started to arrive, and he was sure the dorms were empty, he snuk in the Slytherin dorm to grab all the other things he needed. A brand new world awaited for him outside the safe walls of the school.
* * *
Draco studied the warm colors of red and gold on the beds. He always hated them. The colors, I mean. Gold was so much «higher» than silver, so less gracious and mysterious. It was ugly. Always represented filth to him.. And red was the color he hated from the depths of his soul. Blood. It reminded him of blood - a symbol of pain and everything that hurts. Red was blood.
And then, suddenly, red was Ron. And for some time he adored and worshiped red.
Then Ron died. And Draco hated red more than ever in his entire life. Not it wasn't only blood. It was his life and love that was dead and gone. He felt a strong urge to simply destroy all those falsly warm colors.. So deceiving. Nothing was warm for long.
He snapped out of his musings and quickly started rampaging through the pile of things in carton boxes beside one of the beds. Not just any bed, but the one third from the door. Ron's bed. His things were neatly put in order, already packed to be sent to his grieving family. Well, at least they were tidy untill Draco started his search for what he desperately needed. He was making a bigger mess by every minute that passed, and he knew there wasn't much time left untill others returned. And hands shaky from nervousness weren't really helpful.
Draco pushed away the box in a mixture of rage and worry. Many stuff weren't here. And what he needed wasn't here either. That means they haven't found or packed everything. Well, there definitely were stuff that shouldn't be found.. If anything, Ron was smart enough to realise that before. But, that also put a new problem - how to find it?
The wardrobe was empty. The bedside cabinet was empty too. There was nothing under the bed. He pushed off the mattrace and looked between the wooden boards. Nothing. That left only one thing more in all that mess. Floor.
The next moment Draco was kneeling beside the bed. He was sure there was a secret space somewhere here. Ron said something about it the last time they.. Met. It felt as if it had been so long ago.. In fact, it kinda was.. The night he.. The night they had a talk. One very long and tireing talk. Meaningful, indeed.. The last time they shared a word. The last time Draco properly held him. And Ron told him something about a hideout where he kept certain memories.. Draco obviously wasn't listening. Or maybe he didn't get the real meaning. But one thing he realised, even if only now. Ron *did* tell him. And while the flowing tears caused by the painful memory were choking him once and again, he noticed one more thing. It was as if Ron *knew*.. As if he he actually knew. And was ready on the fact his death will occure. And was ready to die.. And leaving hints.. And as if he..
Suddenly Draco jumped up, going pale and very shocked.
«Fucking Merlin! He *did* kill himself!!»
* * *
He seemed almost more shocked than when he first heard the news. But there wasn't any time to lose - he'd have time for musings later. Now he had work to do.
Once again he knocked lightly on the wooden floor, formerly covered with a red and gold carpet. That same carpet now layed rolled aside beside the wall. And the blond boy was constantly and almost franticlly searching for a thing that obviously wasn't there.
Then, he remembered it. Like it was coming from a deep well.. Ron was standing somewhere in the corner of the room.. And Draco was thinking of a way to bang the news.. Right before the fight. Yes, it was in the corner of the room.
Draco approached the same spot. Ron was standing here, lost in his own thoughts and worries. And then he said something about memories that will be long forgotten.. And when the time comes, maybe someone will.. Will what? Discover them?
He almost screamed from desperation. Merlin, he was on the edge and now this. How could have he been so stupid?! Not to listen to him on such important things?!
Then again, he didn't know it was important back then.
But everything that redhead said, usually was important. No, it was just Draco being stupid again. Maybe he even.. He shuddered at the bare thought. No. He would've killed himself too if it was true. He *didn't* push Ron into death!!
It was like one big boom. That's right. «The memories will be long forgotten, love.. But the time will come. When a one pushes it too far, it will come to an end, and only memories will remain.. For another to find them, charish them and heal a wound only he knows for.. Memories are fragile.. Like the dust and ashes that are left behind a flame..»
Draco wrote it down on a piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. Right. A flame. A flame? What the hell?.. What could've that meant? Where could he find a fla..
The common room.
* * *
There was the big brick fireplace. There were dust and ashes. Before, there was probably flame too. It all fit in for now. But now he had to discover the rest.
Draco tapped on few of the bricks. Nah, it would be too obvious. Too simillar to Diagon alley. Well, it was either something impossibly complicated or something impossibly simple. There was no third option. So he tried every brick. Nothing. Ok then. It was complicated. Great. He usually loved complicated, but this was another story. Not only a challenge, but a faithful event. Complications were dangerous.
He suddenly stood up. There was one thing he could try. He pulled out a bit of that magical dust out of his pocket and threw it inside. There was a spell against the usage of that dust put on fireplaces in Hogwarts, but it was the last sparkle of hope Draco saw. Besides, most of the students didn't have the dust either..
And it did work! Draco almost fainted from the amazement he actually managed in doing something. He stepped into the foggy substance, although he had no idea where could he go. But even before he could open his mouth, he felt the familliar feeling of molecular travelling..
* * *
..And he fell strongly onto the ground. His vision went black for a couple of moments, due to the hard hit. But even when he recovered, he still thought he was hallucinating. Where the fuck was he NOW?!? The things were going backwards, from bad to worse. And this was.. Merlin, this was awful. It was some kind of a sewer tunnel. And he was feeling fine enough to know there weren't any sewers in Hogwarts. It was some tunnel, obviously. But why would Hogwarts have a *tunnel*?! Besides, it wasn't even on the Marauders map Ron showed him. So.. Maybe.. This wasn't in Hogwarts at all?! But Hogwarts had a security spell, so no one could even apparate from it. Didn't it?..
A tunnel.. Just like Ron used to tell him. On all of his trips there was a tunnel. He mentioned it every time.
Maybe it weren't only trips. Maybe it was for real.
Draco turned around, dumbfounded for the millionth time that day. He hated that feeling that was becoming more and more usual to him, but he had no choice. He simply didn't get it. How did he appear here - wherever «here» was - when there wasn't a fireplace around? One thing he knew for sure. This was all getting more and more complicated, and was obviously leading him in the totally opposite way than he believed. He thought it was his faith, to change the events in every possible way, but it seemed more as if the events were changing him. And he didn't like it.
Well, at least it kept his mind away from all the emptiness he felt.
Currently, he had a hard task in front of him. First of all, he was facing a wall. So, the first question would be how did he get there? And where was he at all? And...
And.
Draco glared at the freakin' tunnel. Now that he was here, he might search it as well.
* * *
It was big and wide. Like a labirinth too. He tried to keep to the same path, but soon realised he was fucking lost. Why would Ron have anything to do with this place anyways? Well, he didn't mean to quit it now. He wasn't planning on quiting anyways, but it all seemed like a dead-end. Soon, he was right back on the spot where he started his wandering. He fell there when he stepped into the dusty substance.
«Fucking fuck. How am I gonna get back?..»
Then he noticed something written in the wall in some weird symbols. It was carved in stone wall, and he had no idea what it meant. Maybe Potty would be of some help now, if it was parsel-tongue.
He barely touched the stone, and it was all it needed. An entrance opened, and he was now facing the dark.
* * *
Of course. He had to find it somehow. And he was just surprised Ron put everything here. Again new questions risen (how Ron knew about this in the first place?) but they were tireing him too much. He hasn't figured out the first ones yet either. Someone was definitely going to answer for all this..
It wasn't another tunnel as he first thought. Just a small space with stone shelves. Now he was rumaging trought them too.
Most of the stuff has big sentimental value, both to Ron and him. There was that purple leaf Granger once gave to Ron, and the small black dragon statue left from Potter's Three-wizard Tournament two years ago. Lots of stuff he didn't know where it came from, but was sure it meant a lot to Weasley. Some stuff he gave him.. Dammit, he felt like he'll never cry out all the tears he had!
But nothing was on that shelf that he could take. Nothing of what he needed.
Then he found a very important thing on the lower shelf. A plastic bag with an injection, a lemon, few stuffs of cotton wool.. The classical. And the most important. White powder. White powder that controlled and owned the one he loved.
Draco shuddered. Although he understood it, he hated it with such passion he felt the anger itself could destroy every remnant of drug in the world. And the worst thing - a one he could NEVER forgive himself - was that Draco himself introduced Ron to the possesive, revenging drugs. It was probably his biggest mistake ever. He gave it up eventually, with too much of an effort, but Ron was chained to it for good.
Forever.
And he wasn't completely lying when he was questioned by Dumbledore. He did believe teenage problems were partly responsabel for Ron's.. loss, with a good part of his own guilt..
Untill now. New facts and questions risen, and the only problem was Draco felt so incapable on answering them..
But the plastic bags were safely hidden. In probably the safest place in all of Hogwarts. If it was Hogwarts at all.
A/N - One warning - my mother tongue isn't English, and I don't have HP books on English, so I had to improvise on some parts. For example, I have no idea what's the real expression for that dust that allows wizards to travel through fireplaces, so I tried my best in describing (and naming ;)) it. Sowwy for the confusion. And thank you Moonlight Phoenix, Nox and Aloh Dark!! I appreaciate so much your support!! There, this for the three of you. My most faithful (and possibly only) readers ;). So, basically, you wanna know why, what and when? I comply.. But it'll take more than just one chap. Clue: look for small hints.
7. While II
It was the first time after three days of solitude the blond decided to come out in public again. Not much, though, but even dinning with the rest of Hogwarts seemed to be a task and a half. That's why he didn't do it really - instead, he woke up in the crack of dawn and went to eat with the few students that were awake. Awake and either ignoring him or piercing him with stares.
And by God he hated dawn.
Then, when the others started to arrive, and he was sure the dorms were empty, he snuk in the Slytherin dorm to grab all the other things he needed. A brand new world awaited for him outside the safe walls of the school.
* * *
Draco studied the warm colors of red and gold on the beds. He always hated them. The colors, I mean. Gold was so much «higher» than silver, so less gracious and mysterious. It was ugly. Always represented filth to him.. And red was the color he hated from the depths of his soul. Blood. It reminded him of blood - a symbol of pain and everything that hurts. Red was blood.
And then, suddenly, red was Ron. And for some time he adored and worshiped red.
Then Ron died. And Draco hated red more than ever in his entire life. Not it wasn't only blood. It was his life and love that was dead and gone. He felt a strong urge to simply destroy all those falsly warm colors.. So deceiving. Nothing was warm for long.
He snapped out of his musings and quickly started rampaging through the pile of things in carton boxes beside one of the beds. Not just any bed, but the one third from the door. Ron's bed. His things were neatly put in order, already packed to be sent to his grieving family. Well, at least they were tidy untill Draco started his search for what he desperately needed. He was making a bigger mess by every minute that passed, and he knew there wasn't much time left untill others returned. And hands shaky from nervousness weren't really helpful.
Draco pushed away the box in a mixture of rage and worry. Many stuff weren't here. And what he needed wasn't here either. That means they haven't found or packed everything. Well, there definitely were stuff that shouldn't be found.. If anything, Ron was smart enough to realise that before. But, that also put a new problem - how to find it?
The wardrobe was empty. The bedside cabinet was empty too. There was nothing under the bed. He pushed off the mattrace and looked between the wooden boards. Nothing. That left only one thing more in all that mess. Floor.
The next moment Draco was kneeling beside the bed. He was sure there was a secret space somewhere here. Ron said something about it the last time they.. Met. It felt as if it had been so long ago.. In fact, it kinda was.. The night he.. The night they had a talk. One very long and tireing talk. Meaningful, indeed.. The last time they shared a word. The last time Draco properly held him. And Ron told him something about a hideout where he kept certain memories.. Draco obviously wasn't listening. Or maybe he didn't get the real meaning. But one thing he realised, even if only now. Ron *did* tell him. And while the flowing tears caused by the painful memory were choking him once and again, he noticed one more thing. It was as if Ron *knew*.. As if he he actually knew. And was ready on the fact his death will occure. And was ready to die.. And leaving hints.. And as if he..
Suddenly Draco jumped up, going pale and very shocked.
«Fucking Merlin! He *did* kill himself!!»
* * *
He seemed almost more shocked than when he first heard the news. But there wasn't any time to lose - he'd have time for musings later. Now he had work to do.
Once again he knocked lightly on the wooden floor, formerly covered with a red and gold carpet. That same carpet now layed rolled aside beside the wall. And the blond boy was constantly and almost franticlly searching for a thing that obviously wasn't there.
Then, he remembered it. Like it was coming from a deep well.. Ron was standing somewhere in the corner of the room.. And Draco was thinking of a way to bang the news.. Right before the fight. Yes, it was in the corner of the room.
Draco approached the same spot. Ron was standing here, lost in his own thoughts and worries. And then he said something about memories that will be long forgotten.. And when the time comes, maybe someone will.. Will what? Discover them?
He almost screamed from desperation. Merlin, he was on the edge and now this. How could have he been so stupid?! Not to listen to him on such important things?!
Then again, he didn't know it was important back then.
But everything that redhead said, usually was important. No, it was just Draco being stupid again. Maybe he even.. He shuddered at the bare thought. No. He would've killed himself too if it was true. He *didn't* push Ron into death!!
It was like one big boom. That's right. «The memories will be long forgotten, love.. But the time will come. When a one pushes it too far, it will come to an end, and only memories will remain.. For another to find them, charish them and heal a wound only he knows for.. Memories are fragile.. Like the dust and ashes that are left behind a flame..»
Draco wrote it down on a piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. Right. A flame. A flame? What the hell?.. What could've that meant? Where could he find a fla..
The common room.
* * *
There was the big brick fireplace. There were dust and ashes. Before, there was probably flame too. It all fit in for now. But now he had to discover the rest.
Draco tapped on few of the bricks. Nah, it would be too obvious. Too simillar to Diagon alley. Well, it was either something impossibly complicated or something impossibly simple. There was no third option. So he tried every brick. Nothing. Ok then. It was complicated. Great. He usually loved complicated, but this was another story. Not only a challenge, but a faithful event. Complications were dangerous.
He suddenly stood up. There was one thing he could try. He pulled out a bit of that magical dust out of his pocket and threw it inside. There was a spell against the usage of that dust put on fireplaces in Hogwarts, but it was the last sparkle of hope Draco saw. Besides, most of the students didn't have the dust either..
And it did work! Draco almost fainted from the amazement he actually managed in doing something. He stepped into the foggy substance, although he had no idea where could he go. But even before he could open his mouth, he felt the familliar feeling of molecular travelling..
* * *
..And he fell strongly onto the ground. His vision went black for a couple of moments, due to the hard hit. But even when he recovered, he still thought he was hallucinating. Where the fuck was he NOW?!? The things were going backwards, from bad to worse. And this was.. Merlin, this was awful. It was some kind of a sewer tunnel. And he was feeling fine enough to know there weren't any sewers in Hogwarts. It was some tunnel, obviously. But why would Hogwarts have a *tunnel*?! Besides, it wasn't even on the Marauders map Ron showed him. So.. Maybe.. This wasn't in Hogwarts at all?! But Hogwarts had a security spell, so no one could even apparate from it. Didn't it?..
A tunnel.. Just like Ron used to tell him. On all of his trips there was a tunnel. He mentioned it every time.
Maybe it weren't only trips. Maybe it was for real.
Draco turned around, dumbfounded for the millionth time that day. He hated that feeling that was becoming more and more usual to him, but he had no choice. He simply didn't get it. How did he appear here - wherever «here» was - when there wasn't a fireplace around? One thing he knew for sure. This was all getting more and more complicated, and was obviously leading him in the totally opposite way than he believed. He thought it was his faith, to change the events in every possible way, but it seemed more as if the events were changing him. And he didn't like it.
Well, at least it kept his mind away from all the emptiness he felt.
Currently, he had a hard task in front of him. First of all, he was facing a wall. So, the first question would be how did he get there? And where was he at all? And...
And.
Draco glared at the freakin' tunnel. Now that he was here, he might search it as well.
* * *
It was big and wide. Like a labirinth too. He tried to keep to the same path, but soon realised he was fucking lost. Why would Ron have anything to do with this place anyways? Well, he didn't mean to quit it now. He wasn't planning on quiting anyways, but it all seemed like a dead-end. Soon, he was right back on the spot where he started his wandering. He fell there when he stepped into the dusty substance.
«Fucking fuck. How am I gonna get back?..»
Then he noticed something written in the wall in some weird symbols. It was carved in stone wall, and he had no idea what it meant. Maybe Potty would be of some help now, if it was parsel-tongue.
He barely touched the stone, and it was all it needed. An entrance opened, and he was now facing the dark.
* * *
Of course. He had to find it somehow. And he was just surprised Ron put everything here. Again new questions risen (how Ron knew about this in the first place?) but they were tireing him too much. He hasn't figured out the first ones yet either. Someone was definitely going to answer for all this..
It wasn't another tunnel as he first thought. Just a small space with stone shelves. Now he was rumaging trought them too.
Most of the stuff has big sentimental value, both to Ron and him. There was that purple leaf Granger once gave to Ron, and the small black dragon statue left from Potter's Three-wizard Tournament two years ago. Lots of stuff he didn't know where it came from, but was sure it meant a lot to Weasley. Some stuff he gave him.. Dammit, he felt like he'll never cry out all the tears he had!
But nothing was on that shelf that he could take. Nothing of what he needed.
Then he found a very important thing on the lower shelf. A plastic bag with an injection, a lemon, few stuffs of cotton wool.. The classical. And the most important. White powder. White powder that controlled and owned the one he loved.
Draco shuddered. Although he understood it, he hated it with such passion he felt the anger itself could destroy every remnant of drug in the world. And the worst thing - a one he could NEVER forgive himself - was that Draco himself introduced Ron to the possesive, revenging drugs. It was probably his biggest mistake ever. He gave it up eventually, with too much of an effort, but Ron was chained to it for good.
Forever.
And he wasn't completely lying when he was questioned by Dumbledore. He did believe teenage problems were partly responsabel for Ron's.. loss, with a good part of his own guilt..
Untill now. New facts and questions risen, and the only problem was Draco felt so incapable on answering them..
But the plastic bags were safely hidden. In probably the safest place in all of Hogwarts. If it was Hogwarts at all.
