Disclaimer: Oh yes, of course they're mine. Just as the sun is made of ice
and money grows on trees. Miss Rowling? If you wish to sue please find
someone else, I can't even afford a lawyer let alone a settlement.
Warnings: Nope, none.
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.
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Blood & Nails.
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Part Five. So Now What?
Draco awoke and sat up slowly, staring around the room that was his. Or so people kept telling him. He'd had a disturbing dream. It had chilled him and worried him, leaving him with that sharp taste of fear in his mouth. But now he couldn't remember it.
"Add that to the fucking list, shall I?" He scowled at the blanket.
Except blood. He remembered the blood. He had dreamt of it, dripping down, drying on his hands. He'd almost been able to smell it, to taste it. But that was all he could recall about his dream.
He was starting to fully realise that having no memories, would be a blessing in disguise. He sat up and reached for his cigarettes. "Well. What do I do now?" He exhaled a steady stream of smoke. He reached for the piece of cardboard that had the sheet of phone numbers glued to it. He slowly read the list, learning the numbers one by one.
His parents, every single Weasley on the earth from the looks out it, even some he'd never heard of. At least, not that he could remember. Dumbledore.
Snape.
"Why the fuck not?" He told himself, putting out his, now finished, cigarette and picked up the receiver. Before it rang it occurred to him he didn't even know what month it was, therefore classes could be in session. It was answered on the third ring anyway.
"Hello?"
"Sir? Um .... "
"Draco?"
"Yeah." He said, grateful that Snape still knew his voice.
"Is something the matter?"
"Um, no, not really. Well, yes, but no. Er, did that make sense?"
"Not really but considering the circumstances, I'll let it pass."
"Thanks, um ...... " Draco trailed off.
"Was there something you wanted?"
"I just, I was just wondering, I mean, I know you're not my head of house anymore, but you still are, sort of. To me anyway."
"Is there something you wanted to discuss?"
Draco was relieved to hear that Snape seemed willing to let him get it out of his system. His teacher, ex teacher, had taken on the tone that meant he was prepared to sit back and let Draco rant for awhile.
"If you don't mind?"
"Over the phone or would you like to come here? It's the summer break, but I stayed behind at Hogwarts to take care of a few things."
Draco considered it quickly, in it's simplest form. Over the phone meant sitting there, playing with the blanket. Being there meant pacing Snape's floor and drinking his scotch. "I'll get there as soon as I work out how to."
"Very well." Snape knew not to offer assistance when Draco got into his 'I'm just fine, fuck off' mood.
They both hung up. Draco looked around the room wondering how on earth he was going to do this. Seeing no other option he picked up the phone again and dialled the number next to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.
"Hello." A distinctly female voice.
"Gra .... er, Hermione?"
"Draco? Hi, um, how are you?"
"Er, I'm getting there. I was calling because I needed some help."
"Do you want me to get Harry?"
"No, I'm sure you can help."
"Sure, what's wrong?"
"I, er, I need to know how to make a portkey. I don't know how to Apparate, so I thought I'd do this instead."
"Oh, okay, I can help with that, where do you want to go?"
Hermione talked him through it step by step and then told him how to do the identification spell, so he knew it was set to send him to the main gates of Hogwarts. He thanked her and hung up, tolerating her ramblings of how she hoped he would get better soon.
"I'm not sick." He muttered to his wardrobe as he opened it up. "I'm just ..... misplaced? Dislocated? Something like that." He sighed. "I'm also talking to myself. I should really stop doing that one day."
He dragged on some clothes and walked over to the bed looking at his watch as it lay there, the thing he had chosen to make the portkey out of. He leant over and quickly grasped it. He landed just outside the gates.
Snape must have had a word to the main doors because they opened obediently as he walked up to them. He slowly walked towards the dungeons looking around to see if anything had changed since two days ago. Two days for him anyway. A few of the portraits had changed position and one was missing completely but that was it. He knocked firmly on the door and in a few moments it was opened by Snape, in Muggle clothing.
His clothes were not what surprised Draco. He'd seen Snape in casual clothes a hundred times while he was growing up. It was the long scar running from the middle of the forehead down to the jaw bone on the left side of his face. He couldn't take his eyes off it.
After almost three minutes of just staring at it, his brain reminded him he was being rude. He blinked slowly and registered that Snape had already stood to the side and was waiting for him to enter. "Sorry." He muttered and walked in.
"That's quite all right, I remember the look you gave me when you first saw it. Of course, it was still bleeding badly then. Oh, that wasn't you, yes, quite." Snape shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Draco's eyes.
"Okay. That's it! From now on, we're just going to pretend it was me. Let's leave the whole spirit possession phantom thing completely alone, and just pretend I have amnesia." Draco picked up the glass of scotch that he assumed was his and downed it all at once. "It'll be much simpler that one. Besides, from what I've seen, everything it did, bar the murders, would have been what I did." He poured himself another glass and took a seat near the table where the bottle sat. "Except for maybe one other thing too."
"Ah, I assume you're speaking of the elusive Mister Harry Potter?"
"Why does everyone keep calling him elusive?"
"Oh, forgive me. It was a standing joke between everyone and the two of you, er him and , no wait we agreed to say it was you didn't we?"
"Yes, we did." Draco took another long drink.
"He had this habit of only leaving your apartment when you did. And because everyone was always wanting the both of you to come to banquets and the such everyone started saying it was odd. You always put your foot down and refused to go and let them suck up to you and Harry wouldn't go without you."
"So, I was a snob and he was elusive?" Draco smiled.
"Exactly."
"I'm surprised they weren't saying I was tying him to the couch or something, keeping him out of the spotlight he so desperately wanted." Draco snorted sarcastically. He might not have known the last five years of the world, but he doubted whether Harry liked the limelight anymore than he had back then.
"Well, they did at first, until Harry told them to fuck off. That was quite an interesting press conference. Very colourful."
Draco smiled at the image. Harry had always been animated, when he lost his temper over something. "Sorry I missed it." He fished his glass and held it out to be refilled. "But that's just the thing. Yesterday was so messed up and he left in such a hurry. I don't blame him for it, but it kind of left a lot of things hanging for me."
"Such as?"
"Do you know when we first started, well, seeing each other?"
"The First of January, 1997 was when you first, er, realised your mutual fascination with each other. Just. I believe you said it was about four minutes into the new year."
"I told you?"
"Indeed. It's also when you celebrate your anniversary. You were suppose to get married on your next one."
"What month is it?"
"January. I said that didn't I?"
"No. I meant now. What month is it? What's the date?"
"Oh. It's the Fifth of July. Er, 2001."
Draco stared at the dark liquid in his glass then suddenly snorted. "Pity I'm not American. I was released on Independence Day. Would have been very fitting."
"Indeed. So, how are you holding up?"
"Um, not too bad, I guess."
"Oh, of course. That's why you're here, drinking all my scotch and scratching up the arm of my chair." Snape said, not pushing too hard.
Draco looked to his left hand which was opening and closing, his nails wearing out the material. He'd always done that when something was bothering him, and from the looks of it, the wear patch had gotten bigger from what he remembered. "Sorry, but, as you can imagine, I'm kind of messed up right now."
"I don't believe for a second that I could understand what you're going through."
"I hope you never have to." Draco said quietly.
"Thank you."
Both men finished their drinks and glasses were refilled. Draco was starting to feel it seep into his system, slightly taking off the edge.
"It's like I've gone forward in time but not quite. I have an apartment I don't remember, but it mostly feels right. There's like this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Like I should know it but the thoughts just won't come. That's why it's so nice to be here. Not much has changed and I feel as if I fit in." He spoke slowly, not wanting to rush to much and confuse the older man even more than necessary.
"I never was a big fan of change."
Draco smiled and looked up. "Your face? Um, if you don't want to tell me that's okay." He rushed that sentence though.
"My cover as a spy was mostly blown. Voldemort suspected me of many things and cut my face open, pouring a Chain Reaction potion into the wound and packed me off to Hogwarts, unconscious. I was not in the good books there either after ...... certain incidents. He, Voldemort that is, just assumed that they would heal me and that would take care of that. So when it was discovered I was still loyal to the Order, they would feel guilt over my death."
Draco took this in gradually. Even without a full education, he was well aware of what casting a spell, any spell, on a Chain Reaction potion would do. It was like lighting up gunpowder. Many dark wizards used it as a form of a bomb. "They didn't heal you?" He said gently.
"I managed to wake up and Apparate to someone who could help, before I was discovered at the Gates. That's why it scarred, it had to be healed the Muggle way."
"But there are ways to remove scars?"
"I think of it as a reminder. "Snape smiled sadistically. "It also has helped further terrify brainless first years."
Draco grinned. "Ah, now that sounds like the man I remember."
"Indeed. It's also very effective on Dumbledore. Guilt for not trusting in me and all that."
Draco laughed and finished his drink. His last for the day. "What am I going to do?"
"The 16 year old Draco I knew, wouldn't just sit there forlornly. He'd get up and do something."
"I want to, but what? Everything is just so overwhelming."
"Perhaps if you started smaller, and worked your way up to the big things."
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think?"
Draco's mind raced and then he looked up, catching on and smiled. "I think instead of worrying about my impending marriage, I should at least graduate first."
"Excellent idea, Mister Malfoy."
They clinked their empty glasses as a mock toast.
To Be Continued.
Warnings: Nope, none.
.
.
.
Blood & Nails.
.
Part Five. So Now What?
Draco awoke and sat up slowly, staring around the room that was his. Or so people kept telling him. He'd had a disturbing dream. It had chilled him and worried him, leaving him with that sharp taste of fear in his mouth. But now he couldn't remember it.
"Add that to the fucking list, shall I?" He scowled at the blanket.
Except blood. He remembered the blood. He had dreamt of it, dripping down, drying on his hands. He'd almost been able to smell it, to taste it. But that was all he could recall about his dream.
He was starting to fully realise that having no memories, would be a blessing in disguise. He sat up and reached for his cigarettes. "Well. What do I do now?" He exhaled a steady stream of smoke. He reached for the piece of cardboard that had the sheet of phone numbers glued to it. He slowly read the list, learning the numbers one by one.
His parents, every single Weasley on the earth from the looks out it, even some he'd never heard of. At least, not that he could remember. Dumbledore.
Snape.
"Why the fuck not?" He told himself, putting out his, now finished, cigarette and picked up the receiver. Before it rang it occurred to him he didn't even know what month it was, therefore classes could be in session. It was answered on the third ring anyway.
"Hello?"
"Sir? Um .... "
"Draco?"
"Yeah." He said, grateful that Snape still knew his voice.
"Is something the matter?"
"Um, no, not really. Well, yes, but no. Er, did that make sense?"
"Not really but considering the circumstances, I'll let it pass."
"Thanks, um ...... " Draco trailed off.
"Was there something you wanted?"
"I just, I was just wondering, I mean, I know you're not my head of house anymore, but you still are, sort of. To me anyway."
"Is there something you wanted to discuss?"
Draco was relieved to hear that Snape seemed willing to let him get it out of his system. His teacher, ex teacher, had taken on the tone that meant he was prepared to sit back and let Draco rant for awhile.
"If you don't mind?"
"Over the phone or would you like to come here? It's the summer break, but I stayed behind at Hogwarts to take care of a few things."
Draco considered it quickly, in it's simplest form. Over the phone meant sitting there, playing with the blanket. Being there meant pacing Snape's floor and drinking his scotch. "I'll get there as soon as I work out how to."
"Very well." Snape knew not to offer assistance when Draco got into his 'I'm just fine, fuck off' mood.
They both hung up. Draco looked around the room wondering how on earth he was going to do this. Seeing no other option he picked up the phone again and dialled the number next to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.
"Hello." A distinctly female voice.
"Gra .... er, Hermione?"
"Draco? Hi, um, how are you?"
"Er, I'm getting there. I was calling because I needed some help."
"Do you want me to get Harry?"
"No, I'm sure you can help."
"Sure, what's wrong?"
"I, er, I need to know how to make a portkey. I don't know how to Apparate, so I thought I'd do this instead."
"Oh, okay, I can help with that, where do you want to go?"
Hermione talked him through it step by step and then told him how to do the identification spell, so he knew it was set to send him to the main gates of Hogwarts. He thanked her and hung up, tolerating her ramblings of how she hoped he would get better soon.
"I'm not sick." He muttered to his wardrobe as he opened it up. "I'm just ..... misplaced? Dislocated? Something like that." He sighed. "I'm also talking to myself. I should really stop doing that one day."
He dragged on some clothes and walked over to the bed looking at his watch as it lay there, the thing he had chosen to make the portkey out of. He leant over and quickly grasped it. He landed just outside the gates.
Snape must have had a word to the main doors because they opened obediently as he walked up to them. He slowly walked towards the dungeons looking around to see if anything had changed since two days ago. Two days for him anyway. A few of the portraits had changed position and one was missing completely but that was it. He knocked firmly on the door and in a few moments it was opened by Snape, in Muggle clothing.
His clothes were not what surprised Draco. He'd seen Snape in casual clothes a hundred times while he was growing up. It was the long scar running from the middle of the forehead down to the jaw bone on the left side of his face. He couldn't take his eyes off it.
After almost three minutes of just staring at it, his brain reminded him he was being rude. He blinked slowly and registered that Snape had already stood to the side and was waiting for him to enter. "Sorry." He muttered and walked in.
"That's quite all right, I remember the look you gave me when you first saw it. Of course, it was still bleeding badly then. Oh, that wasn't you, yes, quite." Snape shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Draco's eyes.
"Okay. That's it! From now on, we're just going to pretend it was me. Let's leave the whole spirit possession phantom thing completely alone, and just pretend I have amnesia." Draco picked up the glass of scotch that he assumed was his and downed it all at once. "It'll be much simpler that one. Besides, from what I've seen, everything it did, bar the murders, would have been what I did." He poured himself another glass and took a seat near the table where the bottle sat. "Except for maybe one other thing too."
"Ah, I assume you're speaking of the elusive Mister Harry Potter?"
"Why does everyone keep calling him elusive?"
"Oh, forgive me. It was a standing joke between everyone and the two of you, er him and , no wait we agreed to say it was you didn't we?"
"Yes, we did." Draco took another long drink.
"He had this habit of only leaving your apartment when you did. And because everyone was always wanting the both of you to come to banquets and the such everyone started saying it was odd. You always put your foot down and refused to go and let them suck up to you and Harry wouldn't go without you."
"So, I was a snob and he was elusive?" Draco smiled.
"Exactly."
"I'm surprised they weren't saying I was tying him to the couch or something, keeping him out of the spotlight he so desperately wanted." Draco snorted sarcastically. He might not have known the last five years of the world, but he doubted whether Harry liked the limelight anymore than he had back then.
"Well, they did at first, until Harry told them to fuck off. That was quite an interesting press conference. Very colourful."
Draco smiled at the image. Harry had always been animated, when he lost his temper over something. "Sorry I missed it." He fished his glass and held it out to be refilled. "But that's just the thing. Yesterday was so messed up and he left in such a hurry. I don't blame him for it, but it kind of left a lot of things hanging for me."
"Such as?"
"Do you know when we first started, well, seeing each other?"
"The First of January, 1997 was when you first, er, realised your mutual fascination with each other. Just. I believe you said it was about four minutes into the new year."
"I told you?"
"Indeed. It's also when you celebrate your anniversary. You were suppose to get married on your next one."
"What month is it?"
"January. I said that didn't I?"
"No. I meant now. What month is it? What's the date?"
"Oh. It's the Fifth of July. Er, 2001."
Draco stared at the dark liquid in his glass then suddenly snorted. "Pity I'm not American. I was released on Independence Day. Would have been very fitting."
"Indeed. So, how are you holding up?"
"Um, not too bad, I guess."
"Oh, of course. That's why you're here, drinking all my scotch and scratching up the arm of my chair." Snape said, not pushing too hard.
Draco looked to his left hand which was opening and closing, his nails wearing out the material. He'd always done that when something was bothering him, and from the looks of it, the wear patch had gotten bigger from what he remembered. "Sorry, but, as you can imagine, I'm kind of messed up right now."
"I don't believe for a second that I could understand what you're going through."
"I hope you never have to." Draco said quietly.
"Thank you."
Both men finished their drinks and glasses were refilled. Draco was starting to feel it seep into his system, slightly taking off the edge.
"It's like I've gone forward in time but not quite. I have an apartment I don't remember, but it mostly feels right. There's like this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Like I should know it but the thoughts just won't come. That's why it's so nice to be here. Not much has changed and I feel as if I fit in." He spoke slowly, not wanting to rush to much and confuse the older man even more than necessary.
"I never was a big fan of change."
Draco smiled and looked up. "Your face? Um, if you don't want to tell me that's okay." He rushed that sentence though.
"My cover as a spy was mostly blown. Voldemort suspected me of many things and cut my face open, pouring a Chain Reaction potion into the wound and packed me off to Hogwarts, unconscious. I was not in the good books there either after ...... certain incidents. He, Voldemort that is, just assumed that they would heal me and that would take care of that. So when it was discovered I was still loyal to the Order, they would feel guilt over my death."
Draco took this in gradually. Even without a full education, he was well aware of what casting a spell, any spell, on a Chain Reaction potion would do. It was like lighting up gunpowder. Many dark wizards used it as a form of a bomb. "They didn't heal you?" He said gently.
"I managed to wake up and Apparate to someone who could help, before I was discovered at the Gates. That's why it scarred, it had to be healed the Muggle way."
"But there are ways to remove scars?"
"I think of it as a reminder. "Snape smiled sadistically. "It also has helped further terrify brainless first years."
Draco grinned. "Ah, now that sounds like the man I remember."
"Indeed. It's also very effective on Dumbledore. Guilt for not trusting in me and all that."
Draco laughed and finished his drink. His last for the day. "What am I going to do?"
"The 16 year old Draco I knew, wouldn't just sit there forlornly. He'd get up and do something."
"I want to, but what? Everything is just so overwhelming."
"Perhaps if you started smaller, and worked your way up to the big things."
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think?"
Draco's mind raced and then he looked up, catching on and smiled. "I think instead of worrying about my impending marriage, I should at least graduate first."
"Excellent idea, Mister Malfoy."
They clinked their empty glasses as a mock toast.
To Be Continued.