Loneliness ate away at him. Fear followed him like his shadow. And when Draco opened that vanishing cabinet and the bird fluttered out, dread became a knot in his stomach that settled like a seed deep in the earth, taking root.

-o-

As he had promised himself he would, Draco ignored Amaris… At first, she had ignored him, too. The one moment he accidentally caught her eyes, she had looked away, blushing. Sometime after, she had approached him, but he had turned his back on her, refused to even look at her. A week after, she tried to speak to him. He didn't even spare her a glance before walking away. Theo had called him cold, but Draco couldn't afford to be anything but. So loneliness ate at him…and fear haunted his every step.

As the days passed by in a blur and his time to act drew near, he began to wonder what if he told someone…but those thoughts were quickly dismissed when he remembered how his father was rotting in Azkaban and his mother was a prisoner of the Dark Lord's. And Draco? He was just "Malfoy", son of a Death Eater, enemy to Saint Potter and his idiot friends. No one would help him or his family. Especially once they found out whose mark was on his arm, found out what he had done to Katie Bell, to Ron Weasley, what he planned to do to Dumbledore…

He began to wonder if they already knew. Potter dogged his steps, always sneaking about. Did the Golden Trio know he was a Death Eater already? Had they followed him to the Room of Requirement? Did they know what he did in there, about the vanishing cabinet? Did they know what he had done? No, they couldn't… They would have confronted him already. Someone would have told a teacher.

But when Draco walked into the Great Hall and saw Potter talking to Katie Bell, saw the terrified look on her face when she met Draco's eyes, read the accusation in Potter's gaze, he wasn't so sure. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe, so Draco turned and fled, racing for the nearest, empty bathroom. He barged in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, gasping for breath. He turned on the faucet and let the water run, rolling up his sleeves in quick, jerky movements. He splashed his face twice and looked into the mirror.

He did not recognize his own reflection.

His pale skin had become gray, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he was bone thin. And as he stared into his own, gray eyes, he could only think of Katie Bell's scared expression. He had nearly killed her, nearly killed Weasley! He may have hated Weasley, but he didn't want to kill him. Didn't want to kill anyone. Except he would have to.

He would have to kill Dumbledore. Impossible, but even if it wasn't, Draco wasn't sure he would be able to do it. To utter the killing curse. His throat closed up every time he thought about saying those words. But time was running out…

Something in Draco snapped and he began sobbing over the sink. He didn't want to do this… He didn't want to kill—

A noise startled him and his head snapped up. Potter's reflection in the mirror glared back at him, drawing Draco out of his agony long enough to feel a rush of panic and rage. They drew their wands at the same time. The next few moments were flashes of light and quick movements. And then something struck him so violently that he was thrown to the ground.

Pain lanced his entire body. He gasped for air but his lungs would not inflate. Water pooled beneath him. Sound was drowned by silence. Color bled out of the world. Snape appeared above him…

And then everything went dark.

-o-

When Draco came to, he was lying in a bed. Pansy leaned over him, calling out to him. She sounded far away. Draco slowly blinked and looked around. Crabbe and Goyle stood on the other side of his bed. They spoke to him. Draco blinked again. What were they saying? He looked down, found his chest wrapped in white bandages, a sleepshirt covering him. Someone had changed his clothes. In a remote corner of his brain, he thought he should be concerned, but all he felt was confusion.

A bang heard as if through water startled his friends and they all looked at something on his left. Draco turned his head as if moving in slow motion.

"He's with her again?" Goyle asked, his voice a garbled bass.

Across the room, so far away, Theo came through the door, Amaris at his side. What is she…doing here? Their eyes connected and she rushed toward him. He blinked and suddenly she was beside him.

"You don't belong here," Pansy hissed, voice unnaturally deep.

No, he agreed, but he wasn't angry. He was confused. Why had she come?

Amaris looked at him and he stared back at her. Her eyes were blue. So blue. He blinked again, and darkness swept over him.

-o-

Draco opened his eyes and blinked several times at the ceiling. He was in the hospital wing. It was still light outside, a summer sky slowly darkening. He glanced left to right but saw he was alone. What had happened? How had he wound up here? Memories rushed at him—bathroom, Potter, they dueled, and then… Draco shut his eyes tight, momentarily feeling a shock of pain rip through his chest. Potter had hit him with a spell, something he had never heard of before, and it nearly killed him. Snape had saved him…

A quiet voice inside his head wished Snape had let him die.

Draco swallowed and his tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth. His throat was parched. He slowly breathed in and out, dismissing his morbid thoughts and focusing on each lungful of air. He was alive. That was what mattered. And if he was left alone like this, unrestrained, it was unlikely he had been found out.

A soft noise drew his gaze down the length of the bed and Draco stiffened. Amaris was hunched over in a chair beside him, head cradled on her arms where she slept next to his hip. Her hair spilled over his stomach and pelvis, and her hand was tucked into his.

Draco swallowed again and took a moment to admire her. She was so lovely, so at peace… He had ignored her for weeks, refused to even look at her, and now he felt himself cracking open at this chance to study her. To touch her… He inched his hand not trapped by her own onto his hip to thread his fingers through her hair, relishing in the silky feel. This time his eyes closed in contentment, a slow exhale becoming a sigh of bliss.

When she stirred, he released her hair and pretended to be asleep, even as she squeezed his hand in hers. Footsteps drew near and Madam Pomfrey murmured that it was time for dinner.

"But—" Amaris began to protest.

"He is fine, Ms. Grey, I assure you," the Healer said, "and he will still be here in the morning."

Amaris squeezed his hand again and stood. Two sets of footsteps echoed down the hospital wing and were gone. Draco opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling, feeling a curious mixture of relief and heartache beneath the pain of the near-death blow he had received earlier that day.

An hour had gone by when the doors opened and footsteps once again filled the room. It was neither Amaris nor Madam Pomfrey, but the gait of a man. Draco recognized the shuffling steps of Theo, and soon the fellow Slytherin appeared beside his bed, chomping down on the remainder of a Danish.

"'Ey, you're awake," Theo said around a mouthful of food, his false brevity doing nothing to conceal his concern and relief. "Gave us a right good scare there, mate."

Draco opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Theo immediately reached for the pitcher and glass on the bedside cabinet and poured him some water. Draco gulped it down faster than he should've. His parched throat burned and his head pounded, but he drained the glass without stopping for air. He was panting when he handed it back.

"Better?" Theo asked, and Draco nodded, wiping the water from his mouth with his sleeve. Theo plopped into the empty chair. "It's no wonder. You've been down for two days, you know."

No, he hadn't known. It had all been a blur for him, just a long sleep. He might have been startled by the news, but he was still half-addled from the sleeping draught. He felt a fraction of the concerns he should have felt about even fewer topics. Only one thing seemed important in that moment, and that was—

"Why were you with Amaris?" he rasped.

Theo's eyes widened in surprise. "When?"

Draco narrowed his eyes on him. Had they been together so often that Theo had to ask which moment that he meant? "What do you mean 'when'?" he spat, his voice crackling where there should have been venom. "Spending a lot of time with her, are you?"

Theo's mouth twisted into a lazy grin. "Well…you said you weren't interested…"

Draco's jaw tightened. Theo couldn't be serious. Even if he was, he knew Amaris would never go for it. Theo had been awful to her. But so had Draco…and she still was kind to him, still smiled at him. All of the signs he had misread that led him to believe she might have had feelings for him—signs Theo might be misreading as well. Or worse…

"I'm not," Draco ground out. "I thought you weren't interested either."

"Not interested in marrying her," Theo informed him, still grinning, "but there are a lot of other things we can do together before we get to that." His eyebrows bobbed up and down. Draco scoffed and looked away before he started glaring at his friend. "You asking for Goyle? Wizard's got his knickers in a twist 'cause he thinks this match means he has some sort of claim on her."

Draco's head snapped back. "He what?"

"Salazar, for someone not interested in her, that's a right nasty glare. Relax," Theo cooed. "He's just nervous 'cause the match ain't set, and he thinks she'll be stolen away from him. It's no wonder he's jealous. I mean the way she cried over you earlier…" He tucked his hands behind his head and propped his feet on the bedside cabinet as he sank down into the chair. "You know, if the tosser would just talk to her like a normal bloke, she might actually date him. Too bad."

Draco stared at his lap, at the dark comforter pulled over his legs, mind bouncing between the phrases "she cried over you" and "she might actually date him". One had set his heart to racing and the other made his stomach roil.

"With how Goyle pretends like she isn't there," Theo went on, "and the way you constantly throw her away, poor girl's in need of a man who'll pay her mind."

A hundred retorts ripped through his mind but Draco bit back every single one of them. Theo was messing with him—he knew he was. He had to be. But even if he wasn't, it didn't matter. Amaris wouldn't date him. She wouldn't. And that mattered even less… Because there was no future for them. Her uncle had been right. Draco would get her killed if he tried to tie them together.

Draco's chest hurt. He rubbed at his sternum, feeling the ripple of damaged flesh beneath his fingers. Would he have scars? Probably. If the wounds weren't entirely gone by now, they would probably always linger in some form.

"You all right, mate?" Theo asked, voice laced with concern.

"Tell her not to come back here," Draco rasped, grimacing at the ache in his body.

Theo's feet dropped to the ground as he sat up. "Draco," he began seriously. "If this is about what I—"

"It's not about you," Draco snapped.

Theo gaped at him, seemingly at a loss. "She wants to see y—"

"I don't care. Just do what I say."

Silence stretched between them. Theo gawked at him, baffled, and Draco glared, resolute. Finally, the other wizard caved with a scoff and, frowning, shook his head and stood.

"You keep this up and she will start to hate you," Theo warned him.

If Draco couldn't bring himself to hate her, then making her hate him was the next best solution. It was too hard for Draco to stay away from her, to ignore her every time she entered a room, to resist meeting her eyes. He needed her help. He needed her to hate him so she would avoid him, to remove temptation.

"Good," Draco muttered.

Theo shook his head again and left.

-o-

The next day, Amaris returned to the hospital wing. Draco pretended to be asleep. She sat beside him and held his hand in both of hers, and though he knew he shouldn't feel this way, he was filled with contentment. The way she cried over you, Theo had said. Draco tried to picture it, her sobbing over his unconscious form. It made his heart race even as his chest ached.

It was unfair that so much should be stacked against them… She was a Pureblood witch. It should have been easy for them to be together. But she was a blood traitor. Even if Draco no longer cared—and he didn't, not anymore—his parents would. It should have been enough of an obstacle to surmount, but then he took the Dark Mark. If she saw it, if she learned what he was, she would despise him. And finally, there was the Dark Lord living in his home, haunting his family. Even if they managed to overcome the other walls between them, they could never be together. The Dark Lord would torture her and destroy her, and it would be Draco's fault.

His fingers twitched against her palm, longing to hold her hand, hating her for being there, praying she wouldn't leave him. If he told someone, could they save him? Save both of them? Would they?

Theo's swaggering gait broke the silence. "Amaris," he began rather somberly, completely unlike his usual self.

"He looks better, doesn't he?" Her voice was full of hope. "They said he woke up. Did you know?"

"You have to leave," Theo said.

"But it's not time—"

"He doesn't want you here."

The harsh words seemed to echo in the empty room. Draco's jaw clenched in frustration, but he kept his eyes closed, his breathing even.

"Wh… But…" she stammered. "How do you—"

"Told me himself last night."

There was a moment of silence so thick that it vibrated in his ears, almost made him open his eyes. He might have questioned if she was still there if her hands hadn't still held his, if her fingers hadn't tightened their grip.

"He said that?" she asked in a small voice that made his chest hurt even worse. He heard her swallow. "Did he say why?"

There was a shuffling noise. Draco barely opened his eyes to peek. Theo had his hand on her shoulder, his face full of disdain. Draco knew it was for him, not her. That he was touching her, that she was letting him—that had to mean something. Since when had they become so familiar? Had Theo been serious when he hinted that he was making a move on her?

"'Fraid not, love," Theo answered gently.

For a moment, Amaris seemed lost. Her gaze bounced around the room, confused and conflicted. Her mouth opened and closed. Her lower lip quivered before she captured it with her teeth. Then her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"All right," she murmured. Draco shut his eyes again as she squeezed his hand and let him go. "Tell him—" she started to say, but stopped.

"If he wants to hear it," Theo began, "then he'll hear it from you."

Another bout of silence. "Right," Amaris whispered, her tone wet with tears. Then he heard her footsteps echoing down the hall. Theo stepped up to the bed.

"You can quit pretending. She's gone," Theo said, but Draco refused to open his eyes. His friend snorted softly then turned around and left.

-o-

"How are you feeling?" Pansy asked him that night after dinner.

"It still hurts," Draco admitted.

Pansy scowled. "I can't believe they're only giving Potter detention for what he did to you. He should be expelled. He should be arrested!"

Draco just blinked at the ceiling. The information had come to him earlier that day, the news settling like lead in his gut. He had been attacked by a fellow student and nearly killed and no one was doing anything about it. Why? Because it was Saint Potter who did it, the chosen one. Detention? For nearly murdering someone? If his father knew—

Draco grimaced. His father was in Azkaban… His mother would have Potter's head for it if she knew, if she wasn't trapped at home with the Dark Lord. His family were the only ones who cared about him. He had no other allies…

Dumbledore pretended in his wizened way to be a caretaker to them all, but Potter and his friends were the only ones who had earned his protection, his affections. He didn't care what happened to Draco. None of the professors did. No one but Snape, but he was another of the Dark Lord's servants. Draco couldn't confide in him about his doubts, his fears. He couldn't look to him for help out of this impossible task he was given.

No one would help him.

"Draco," Pansy murmured. He looked at her, found her eyes full of worry. "What's happening…?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice still light and raspy.

"You aren't yourself."

"Of course, I am—"

"You're not," she interrupted him. "You don't play Quidditch, you skip your prefect duties, you don't even mock the Gryffindors anymore." Draco opened his mouth to argue but she kept going. "You don't eat, you haven't gotten a decent night's sleep since the term started, and you disappear for hours at a time." She leaned toward him, brow knit together, tears in her eyes. "Even her. I know she's special to you, but you've turned even her away. What's gotten into you, Draco? Why are you doing this? Why won't you let us in?"

Draco's mouth was set in a grim line. He couldn't lie to her. She had been so loyal to him throughout their years as schoolmates. She had followed him, defended him, cared for him, and she might have even loved him. She deserved the truth, but he couldn't give it to her.

"I have my orders," was all he said.

She straightened in her chair. Her complexion paled, mouth turning down at the corners, but there was no surprise in her eyes. "From who?" she asked, and he was certain she already knew the answer.

"Guess," he answered.

Her mouth opened then shut. There was fear in her eyes as her gaze fell on his forearm where the Dark Mark writhed. For all her talk of Pureblood supremacy, for all her bullying of the Mudbloods and blood traitors, she wasn't a Death Eater. Would never have taken that mark. It was clear on her face as she gazed at him, so full of poorly concealed disapproval and guilt-ridden regret, that she may have grown up with the same zealous rhetoric as he had, but joining the Dark Lord's quest to cleanse the magical community was a line in the sand that she would never cross.

After that day, Pansy stopped visiting him.


Author's Note: I'm really sorry it took so long to get this update out. The holidays were busy, and then I just had a hard time finding my rhythm. I really appreciate your kind words and reaching out to me to make sure everything was fine. It meant the world to me! And knowing there were people anxiously awaiting the next chapter also made me so happy, to know this story is loved and enjoyed. Thank you so much! I hope you all had a wonderful and safe holiday break, and that 2021 is a kinder year to us all.