Draco was sitting under a tree near the lake. With a simple spell, he melted the snow to sit down on the ground, and he kept a blue flame in a jar to keep himself warm. Even if it was cold outside, he needed to spend some time away from everything. He was staring at the creatures on the opposite bank. He knew what they were and he knew that he wasn't supposed to be able to see them at his age but there he was, watching the Hogwarts Thestrals. Someone was there, with them; a short, blonde girl. And she was interacting with them, so she wasn't there on a whim, she was spending time with the creatures, she could see them too.
Surprising.
She also wasn't one of the students staying at the castle for Christmas, which meant the others were slowly coming back from Hogsmeade after their journey in the Hogwarts Express.
As if to confirm what he was thinking, two hands clasped his shoulders, startling him. He discovered Pansy behind him and the girl smiled brightly. she had cut her hair to her usual black bob cut and had two small pigtails barely visible on each side of her head.
"Surprise!" She said and Draco smiled back. He moved aside to let her sit with him, placing the jar with the fire in front of them, and he noticed that she was wearing the necklace he had gifted her for Christmas.
"You didn't stay at Hogsmeade?" He asked.
"I couldn't wait any longer," she said and Draco had a small smile that he tried to hide by reverting his attention to the creatures, this time by looking at the sky.
"How was the way back?"
Pansy stared, tilting her head, before she started to tell him about the journey but also about some things about her holidays she hadn't told him in her letters. "And look, I told you I liked it," she said, showing him the necklace. It was a simple silver chain with a real, small, round and black onyx gemstone as a pendant.
"It's said to ward off negative thoughts," Draco commented. "I thought it'd look good on you… Be careful now, I'm gonna start thinking you're pretty."
She laughed, it was almost a giggle, and she pushed Draco's shoulder. "Idiot," she said before she held onto his arm, "Thanks."
The rest of Draco's holidays hadn't been that bad, but he hadn't lied in his last letter to Pansy, he was feeling lonely. Not only because of the feeling he had when Hermione Granger had visited him in the hospital — a feeling of great pleasure and satisfaction that he absolutely didn't want to try and unpack —, but also because of the conversation he had with Lupin back in the Shrieking Shack. He never mentioned the Boggart again but they did talk a few times in Lupin's office or in hallways when they would cross paths. They had even been interrupted by Snape's arrival once, but the Potions Master hadn't shown his feelings about them casually talking together.
Draco was still looking at the Thestral flying in circles above the lake. He didn't want to mention Granger to Pansy, but he did want to talk about their teacher.
"Lupin's not that bad, actually," he said quietly. Pansy offered him a surprised look.
"Well, yeah. I know, but what made you change your mind?" She wouldn't say that she liked Lupin herself, but she knew that he was the best teacher they had in that class. And he was very nice with every student. But he wasn't a part of their world, so she wasn't paying any particular attention to him outside of class.
Draco shrugged. "Well, like I told you, I was alone all the time. I ran into him a few times, that's all," he said, not ready to confide more just yet. Pansy didn't comment on it. She had noticed that he was distracted by something, that his eyes were following a movement she couldn't see.
"Still looking at those , are you?" She asked quietly. Draco shrugged again and watched the creature fly right above the water.
When Draco had first told Pansy about them, during their first year, Pansy hadn't believed him. Why would he be able to see creatures that no one else could see? She thought he was probably trying to freak her out. And yet, something told her that Draco was being quite real. He became obsessed with them, he would go out and observe them whenever he could, whenever they'd come out, but he couldn't tell what they were. A letter from his father had brought him all the answers he needed. He had told Draco the name of the creature and said that he wouldn't give everything away, and that it was better for Draco to figure it all out by himself by doing some research. Draco had then dragged Pansy to the library to find the right book. She discovered what they looked like, and he discovered why he could see them. Still, he never told Pansy whose death he had witnessed.
"We can go inside if you want to," he said, looking at the Thestrals near the blonde girl again.
"No, it's fine, we can stay a little longer."
"Thanks," Draco muttered, not directly looking at her. but she saw his expression, she saw that he was peering over. She smiled, glad to see that he was back to normal. Nice, gentle with her, even if still his melancholic self.
"But just a little bit longer," she added. She never liked when Draco was staring at them for too long. She always thought it was gloomy and that they would make him too depressed for the rest of the day. Plus, she couldn't see them, and it sometimes made her feel like Draco wasn't in his right mind, even if she knew the creatures were real. She could have sworn she saw him caressing one of them, once, but he had stopped as soon as he had noticed her.
But Draco wasn't actually depressed when he was around them. And right now, he was too busy thinking about what Lupin had told him to really let that kind of feelings take over. He thought that maybe he should talk to her about some of the things he never did talk about. Of course, he wouldn't tell her what he was, but he could make her understand that he trusted her enough for her to know his biggest secret. Maybe he could help her figure it out. If he wasn't saying it out loud, he wouldn't feel as guilty about revealing it. It wouldn't feel as true as it would be if he was directly saying it. He might be able to avoid some consequences. Because if she was suddenly afraid or rejecting him, he could back out of all of this by saying that she had misunderstood everything, that the attack never went that far.
Like Lupin had been, he was afraid that his friend would leave him once knowing the truth — once knowing he was a monster. But would Pansy leave him, or would she act like Lupin's friends? She needed to know, at least, that he wanted her in on his secret, even if he wasn't exactly ready to tell her everything. Maybe it would reassure her about their friendship.
Or maybe Draco was trying to reassure himself.
That's when Pansy noticed Luna on the other side of the lake.
"Hey, the crazy girl's there. She can see them too?" She inquired. and Draco slowly looked at her.
"You think she's crazy?" He asked, and Pansy realised her mistake.
"Not because she sees them, dummy. You know I don't think you're crazy," She quickly justified herself as she held Draco's forearm. Draco glanced down at her fingers and she removed her hand. "Does it still hurt? I'm sorry."
"I'm fine," he said shortly before he looked at Luna again, "What about her? You know her?" He asked. Pansy glanced at the girl.
"Well, yeah," she started hesitantly, "but everyone thinks she's crazy… I've never talked to her myself, but I heard she's really weird. Her name's Luna, but everyone calls her Loony Lovegood," she explained prudently. "She's a second year." Draco nodded before he looked at Pansy again, meeting her eyes.
"She can see them, so it means that she saw death," he said. Beginning was easier than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because Pansy was such a close friend? "Did you ever think that maybe… that what she saw… is what made her weird?" He asked. Pansy frowned slightly. Draco knew that she wasn't spending her time thinking about what had made Luna the way she was. There was something more to his question and when she tried to read his expression, she got it.
"You're not weird, Draco," she said, feeling bad for him. It was even worse when he looked down. She had guessed right. But he wasn't like Loony Lovegood, he was… normal . He was just Draco. Draco Malfoy. He was better. No one could hold a candle to Draco Malfoy, not even her, she had always held him in that regard. "You're not like her," she said aloud, she needed to see he was convinced of that fact. But he still didn't look at her, and she placed her hand on his arm again. "You've witnessed some things… I don't know what, but it didn't change you, it didn't make you weird, nor crazy. We wouldn't be friends if you were like her," she said with a quiet laugh. That type of humor usually worked, and he would usually add to the insults. Usually. Not this time. Not at all.
He looked at his best friend, met her eyes and felt his heart sink. He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't lose her. She was too important. She would never talk to him again if she knew. But was it right for Draco to hide who he truly was? She wasn't friends with the Draco Malfoy she thought she knew.
He felt his guilt increasing, he was lying to her, every single day. He was manipulating her, he was manipulating everyone. He was worse than any Muggle-born or Squib he could ever meet. He was a sham.
He felt like crying and he felt like telling her everything, he wanted to get her away from him for good, so that he wouldn't have to pretend again, so that he wouldn't have to lie to her ever again.
"I've changed because of it," he said, each word like a knife slicing his throat as they got out, "I'm a terrible friend because of it."
"Stop talking nonsense," Pansy said with a frown, now visibly concerned.
"I'm a terrible person because of it."
"No, you're not!" she exclaimed. They had known each other their entire lives. She could tell when it happened. They were nine, she figured it out because she hadn't seen him in months. His parents found excuses, they weren't seen out of their grounds for so long. And when she saw him again, they were ten, and he was, indeed, changed. Like a light had been blown inside of him, he lacked his enthusiasm, he lacked his health. A curse, she thought. What else could it be? There had always been rumors about the Malfoys being cursed. While it had never been proven, what if it was true? She didn't ask. She always tried to cheer him up. After a year or so, he seemed almost back to his normal self. But at that point, he was always melancholic, he was always doing things with more passion than he was truly feeling. Even when he played Quidditch, even when they would run around the grounds, playing adventurers who would duel with the most dangerous and powerful wizards out there with sticks as wands. He had lost something that he couldn't retrieve, and that he would never retrieve. He was running after a part of him that was gone.
She watched as he stared at the water. She followed his gaze, but she couldn't see the Thestral that was approaching the land. She only saw its prints in the snow when it landed. She was freaked but she didn't say a thing. She wanted Draco to look at her, to talk to her.
"You're not a terrible friend," she said," I know that you've got… a lot of things on your mind, things you'd never talk about. I'm used to it. I became patient with time. And I've just always hoped that you know you can talk to me about… anything, really. That's the only thing that truly hurts me," she admitted. Despite being focused on the Thestral, he slightly nodded to indicate that he was hearing her feelings.
He stood up, still looking at the winged horse and its morbid appearance. He had never been disgusted by their fleshless appearance, by their bones so clearly visible, by their white eyes with no expression. He had always been fascinated, really.
He knew the Hogwarts herd pretty well, so he approached the creature without any fear. It stopped and turned its head towards Draco before it took a step towards him. Draco's hand reached its dragonish head and he softly patted it.
"What if I still have something on my mind? And that I'd like to talk to you about it, maybe?" he said. Pansy was watching without saying a word and when she felt ready, she left her spot to join her friend.
"Then you know I'm here for you," she said. Draco pursed his lips, and the words were sealed inside of his mouth.
"I-I'm not…" He shook his head. "There's so many things and I can't tell you any single one of them without…"
There would be consequences. He would put them both in danger, probably. More himself than her, but still. He clenched his jaw and Pansy frowned.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," she said, and Draco chuckled, surprising her. Would she be able to keep her mouth shut, when she'd be scared to death? He couldn't tell her. He gulped and kept his hand on the Thestral's head without moving it anymore.
"You need to promise," he said quietly. Pansy wasn't sure she had heard him right but she didn't ask him to repeat. She'd give him the time he needed. "Promise me that… Whatever I tell you, whatever you understand… Promise me that you won't even tell anyone. And that…" He stopped. He couldn't get his last demand out. He couldn't make her promise to stay by his side. It would be unfair, because he'd understand all too well why she would leave him.
Pansy took a moment to think it through. Not that she would go around and tell everyone, but her friend was so solemn that she knew it was as serious as she had thought, and she just couldn't reason anymore. "I promise," She said in the same tone. Draco knew all of her secrets, and he had never told the most important ones to anyone. He was protecting her, always. As if to show her good faith in her friend, she looked at what had to be the Thestral. She slowly raised her hand to touch it, keeping it really close to Draco's. The beast seemed tall, given where his own hand was, and she didn't want to risk touching its eye or anything disgusting. When her hand made contact, her heart skipped a beat and a shiver went down her spine, so she quickly removed her hand, surprised.
Draco was finally looking at her, expression unfathomable. He softly grabbed her wrist to guide her hand on the Thestral's head, which accepted the caresses.
"It's complicated, Draco began to say, releasing Pansy from his grip and she continued petting the creature slowly. Draco got his hand on the Thestral's neck to make sure he felt a familiar touch and not just this unknown human. "Something happened," he started to explain, slightly more confident than before, "some time ago. And being here, this year… It just... Makes me think about it all the time. I usually can, you know, overlook it from time to time. I'm with you and I laugh and I just feel good," he said, and Pansy's eyes prickled, "but this year… I've never felt this way. There's a point where you think you can never fall down deeper into… this abyss of sadness, loneliness, bitterness… Then it happens and every time you have a bad day, it's just a little bit worse than the last. And it makes me… so angry, all the time. So sad, all the time." It was so hard to put words onto those feelings, to express them out loud, to try and make someone understand what was going on in his mind.
Pansy hesitated, unable to take her eyes off of Draco as he seemed to occlude his throat again, but she had to ask questions. "Maybe you could begin by telling me when it happened?" She caught his little grimace and knew how uncomfortable the question was making him.
"I was nine, almost ten," he almost whispered. So she was right. It happened three to four years ago. Only three to four years ago. And yet, sometimes, her friend looked like he had lived a lifetime.
"That's young," she let out, unable to keep her thought in. He nodded again but didn't comment on it.
She tried to think about what could make him think about it more than usual. Since the start of the school year, she had been able to tell that he was more anxious, more aggressive, and lost in his thoughts to the point where he wasn't able to follow a single conversation in its entirety. But the only real change this year was… Lupin .
Lupin, whom Draco hated at first sight. She still didn't know what had happened during the first feast to make Draco so aggressive with her, she just knew it had everything to do with Lupin. And now, Draco was apparently fine with having him around. She couldn't understand, she was missing too many details to figure it out.
Maybe it wasn't the first time he was meeting Lupin? Had he been there when Draco saw that person dying? Was he involved? Was that why Snape had to call Draco to the staff room before the feast? So that he would know, so that he would be prepared? Was it why he hated Lupin so badly? Because it was bringing up all those memories in his head? Was it all connected to his disappearances? He was always looking kind of sicklish, tired, and he was always kind of volatile depending on these two factors. She was so eager to know everything about Draco, but she had always forced herself to keep quiet. She had always been scared of losing him if she asked the wrong question, if she was pushing him to talk about something he wasn't ready to confront. She had witnessed some students asking him over the years why he was always sick, and Draco had always jinxed them. Then, for the rest of the day, he would always be cold and disrupted. But this was her chance. He wanted to talk, and she could help him.
"Was it… someone from your family?" She asked. His sigh made him sound exhausted. Not because he was tired, but weary.
"No, he wasn't. Not at all," he said. "I saw him… I saw someone be executed," he articulated, the memories flooding back in his head.
"But… Draco… How?" Was all she could say. She needed to realise what he had said, first, because it was implying a few different things. Had he been executed in some creepy altercation Draco had witnessed, or been a part of? Or had it been an official execution done by the Ministry? People were usually sentenced to Azkaban for life, which was somehow worse than death, so… was that man completely human? The theories were bouncing in her head but she was too taken aback to put her finger on the right answers. She hadn't even noticed that she wasn't moving her hand on the Thestral anymore. Draco had stopped too as he was scrutinizing her face.
"My father had him executed," he said. Pansy's eyebrows shot up. She couldn't help it and Draco saw despite her efforts to regain a composed face. "And he had his brother sentenced to Azkaban."
Clearly, then, the man he was talking about was indeed part-human. Draco knew that he was walking on extremely thin ice but he couldn't stop now. "I'm not going to go into details, and I don't want you to ask any more questions about it," he said and his friend slowly nodded. "Just… Father has a lot of enemies, you know. From both camps, may I add. And they thought that… to get back at him, they could… attack me," he said, looking away. "But my father, he won't let anyone mess with me. He won't let that happen, ever," Draco said, chest bulged with unconcealed pride.
Yes, he was proud. His father made them pay, even if it wouldn't change what happened. Even if Draco didn't want to witness the execution at the time, mostly because he was afraid the man would be able to turn and attack him again if he wanted to. But he had let his father take him there and he had watched as the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures handled the werewolf that had attacked him. He had witnessed the way werewolves were treated, even if the man had attacked him willingly and deserved to be seen as a monster. They had tried so hard to get to Draco. They couldn't make the potion themselves, and had no one to prepare it for him, so his brother had to lure the werewolf towards Draco to make sure he would see and attack the boy, since he couldn't control his behavior and choose to get to him by himself. They had planned it all in very specific details.
He had watched his parents argue over his father's decision to report the attack, to make the Ministry know what had happened, even if he had to lie about Draco's injuries. Fudge was the only one who knew he was actually bitten, not scratched. There had to be an examination to back up the accusations. Fudge had just been elected, and given Lucius Malfoy's influence, he accepted Lucius' conditions about keeping the truth concealed, and about the punishment.
His parents thought Draco was asleep when they argued about it. But he wasn't, not with his nightmares. As he was rushing to his parents' bedroom, he heard his mother crying, and it was enough for him to stop, despite his panic. The door was ajar, and he could remember everything. Narcissa kept saying he would have no future, that they would cast him off, that he would never be able to go to school, to lead the life he was to have. His father looked like a wreck. His guilt a poison, he was rotting from the inside, unable to accept what had happened, unable to reassure his son the way he should have. He was there, physically, and yet always absent. Until Draco talked to him. Until Draco couldn't endure it anymore.
He thought his father absolutely disgusted with him, he thought his father hated him. He wasn't even capable of looking at him for a while. Draco, after mustering all his courage, had talked to his mother about it. His very first transformation was approaching and he wanted his father to be there for him afterwards. He was so scared. And his mother was still so affectionate, showing that nothing had changed about the way she was feeling towards him… It just added to the contrast of behavior between the two. And she had revealed the reason Lucius couldn't look at Draco, or at her, or at himself in the mirror. He was so full of hatred, yes, but towards himself. He was angry that he couldn't do anything to change the situation, to go back and protect his son the way he had always promised himself he'd do. That he was saddened, that he felt like he had let Draco down. That he was really really sad. So she wouldn't use the word depressed. That it was making him act a certain way, that it was making him do things she didn't agree with. But that everything, as always, would be alright. And nowadays, Draco thought his father might also have been torn because he couldn't do what he had to do next. He couldn't throw his son out, if was beyong him. His entire life was collapsing too, it just wasn't as visible.
So, Draco walked in the sitting-room one night. His parents were on different high chairs, in front of the fire. His mother was reading, Lucius was contemplating the flames. Draco had approached, his mother had asked if he was alright, if he had a nightmare. But Draco said he just couldn't sleep, he had too much on his mind, just like them. He had approached his father, held his hand, made him look him in the eye. And he had told him everything would be alright. He fell asleep in the warmth of his father's arms that night, in front of the fire.
"But… were you alright?" Pansy asked. Draco got out of his head, almost startled. He smiled, surprising the girl. She couldn't read his face, he didn't make sense.
"Not bloody quite," he said. "But they got what they deserved."
Then, the conversation was over. The silence wasn't awkward. Pansy couldn't ask any more questions, this one had been an exception, and Draco had nothing else to say. When the Thestral started to hammer on the ground with its hind legs, Draco moved back, grabbing Pansy's arm so she'd do the dame. He watched as the creature walked away before it took off. At the same time, they noticed that it was starting to snow again. Draco glanced at Pansy. He was glad that he got most of it off his chest, even if he hadn't told her everything. Draco knew that it wouldn't take too long for her to figure out the rest. He just had to wait for the moon to be full. And then, he would know if he had made a bad decision.
"I missed you," Pansy finally said, "I felt horrible, leaving you alone here."
"Oh, come on, you're here now," Draco smiled. They got back to the tree so that he could pick up the jar. "By the way, I've found a new passage in the castle, it leads near Gryffindor Tower. I'm sure we can go do something and make it look like it was some first year's fault or something."
Pansy laughed and just like that, they walked towards the castle like nothing happened.
They separated the golden trio as they were all going to climb the stairs. Draco banged against Ron's shoulder again and Pansy turned to them, still walking backwards. She grinned as she flipped them off and when they were far enough, Ron turned to his friends.
"Did she really have to come back?" He lamented.
"Anyway," Hermione said to change the subject and avoid Ron getting worked up about it, "Harry, did you talk to Professor Lupin about your classes again?"
"Yeah, we will start at eight o'clock on Thursday," Harry said with a little smile. He was anxious but eager to start learning the Patronus Charm.
.
The very next day, the holidays were officially over and classes were starting again. Draco left the Great Hall early as the first period would start soon. He lied to Pansy, yet again. He mentioned a book he had forgotten and wanted to get in time to avoid being late to class. Well, it was a half-truth, because he did forget the book, even if on purpose, and it wasn't a book but a notebook. He hurried back down the dungeons, ran through paved hallways and stopped abruptly round a corner when he stepped right through a ghost. It felt like a cold shower and he had to pause, doubled up and shivering, his bag hanging from his shoulder.
"What's the rush, boy?" Asked the ghost, obviously as shaken as Draco by the incident. It was a man in old fashion clothes with a dagger at the waist. Draco had already seen him a few times with the Fat Friar.
Draco stammered his way through an apology before he started running again. He only came to a halt when he reached the damp stone wall of the common room.
" Oxyuranus — microlepidotus ," he huffed in two breaths, a stitch in the side. The wall opened and he entered the common room, bathed in green light. He went down into his dormitory, opened his trunk and felt around under his clothes. He grabbed Hermione's notebook and brandished it, as if victorious. He quickly left the common room again. The bell hadn't rung yet, but when he had left the Great Hall, some of the teachers were already gone. He hoped he wouldn't run into the old McGonagall and would just have to place the notebook on Granger's usual table. He got out of the castle into the Middle Courtyard, and finally reached Classroom 1B, completely out-of-breath. He stopped running only when he entered the class, and stopped altogether when he realized that Professor McGonagall was behind her desk, watching who could be making this rumpus. Draco, sweat rolling down his temples at that point, cheeks reddish, was holding his side as he tried to catch his breath.
"Professor McGonagall, hi," he managed to articulate, horrified.
"Mister Malfoy," she only said, still taken aback by his arrival.
He glanced at Granger's desk. Of course, she was sitting front row, while he was almost all the way in the back. Head and heart pounding after all this running — if at least being a werewolf was helping with his endurance, but no — he approached his table, eyes fixed on his professor who was detailing his every move. He searched for his Transfiguration homework to give his teacher and he let his bag slide off his arm, falling to the ground, before he approached the front of the class. Obviously, his teacher believed he was going to talk to her, she even expected him to ask for some kind of extension for his essay, given the moon cycles, but he didn't. As he walked by Hermione Granger and Neville's Longbottom usual seats, he placed a notebook — neatly — on the desk, and only then did he come to his teacher. He handed her a parchment, acting as if all of this was the most natural thing he could have ever done. His professor stared and he even dared to clear his throat and slightly shake the homework to indicate that he wanted her to take it. He looked down when she stared even harder, as if she was about to directly strangle his soul, and she finally snatched the parchment away from his hands. He turned around and started to walk away when she finally spoke. He stopped, closing his eyes, expecting her to be extra cold.
"Is everything alright, Mister Malfoy?" She asked. Draco slowly pivoted, standing right next to Hermione's desk.
"Yeah, of course," he just said, trying to stay composed still.
"I hope you did not steal Miss Granger's notes to do your homework," she said. She could swear the boy was going red in the cheeks again.
"N-No, of course not!" He exclaimed. He grabbed the notebook, "Look, look here," he said, tapping the flowered label Hermione had pasted on the notebook. "History of Magic, it says, that's- that's just… she gave it to me," he continued, still slightly panting. He took a deep breath and for a split second, he was sure McGonagall's lips had curled up.
The bell rang and Draco sheepishly regained his seat. He collapsed on his chair and rested his forehead on his table, his head turning madly. He only sat properly when students started to fill the room.
He kept a lookout, but Pansy arrived first.
"Got your book alright?" She asked as she sat next to him.
"My book?" Draco asked, before he remembered, "Oh, yeah yeah yeah, it's in my bag."
"What's up with you?" Pansy asked as she huffed her laughter.
"Nothing, what's up with you?" Draco asked defensively. Pansy shot him a look, weirded out, but Draco didn't pay attention to her anymore. He did a double take when he noticed that Hermione had walked by. She noticed the notebook immediately and sat down, letting her bag fall on the floor as well. She didn't get her book out right away, as she was distracted by the notebook. Draco stared as she placed it even more neatly on the desk, as if she didn't dare to look at it or move it. She must have noticed… yes, she opened it to the last page of her notes, where Draco had slid a small piece of paper.
.
" thanks
ps : eat this note, if you please "
.
She slightly turned her head, just so that she could get a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eyes. She was smiling, amused, and Draco couldn't help but smile too. He tried to keep a straight face though, twisting his mouth so that his smile wouldn't grow wider, and he got his book out. He wondered if she would still smile when she'd see all the little animated drawings he had added to her notes, to illustrate the events Professor Binns had talked about. When she'd ask about it, he'd say he had time to waste during the holidays. It was true, after all. He had it all planned out.
When Hermione finally focused on McGonagall, who was about to capture the attention of the class, she noticed that she was, for some reason, staring at her with a little smile.
.
Thursday came by fast and soon, Harry found himself walking fast to Lupin's office, eager to start learning the Patronus Charm. So fast that he actually arrived a few minutes before eight. He entered a dark classroom but could see that up the stairs, light was emanating from behind Lupin's door. He walked across the room, hurried up the stairs and was about to knock when he heard voices inside the office. He was about to go back down the stairs to wait for the chosen hour, not wanting to interrupt Lupin if he was already busy, when he recognized Draco Malfoy's voice coming from inside the room. He couldn't help it and he approached the door even more. He couldn't just push his ear against the door, he really didn't want to be noticed, so he tried to catch any glimpse of the conversation he could.
In the classroom, Draco was talking about his dreams. He had finally gathered his courage to talk about his Boggart again. That had been incredibly difficult, but he couldn't ignore the way he felt after his conversation with Lupin in the Shrieking Shack. Even if he had talked about really dark feelings, about his hopelessness, he had felt so uplifted the next morning, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders, his stomach and his brain. So why shouldn't he continue — if his opposition was just so he wouldn't admit Snape and Lupin were right, and that he should, in fact, talk about his feelings, then perhaps he should, for once, admit defeat.
So, that day, right after the feast, he joined his professor in his office. When Lupin told Draco about the meeting he had soon, the boy had almost backed out, suddenly struck with fear, with self-doubts, with self-consciousness. What if his professor didn't care about him at all? What if he was pretending to have a meeting so Draco wouldn't stay around?
He had to clear his mind, he had to persuade himself that he was only anxious because, yes, Lupin's opinion of him mattered in the end, because he had already thrown away too many chances with him, and he couldn't do so again.
"Did you hear it?" Draco asked. Lupin had offered him a seat but he was too uncomfortable, too stressed out, so he was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, barely glancing at his professor. Lupin was in the same position, but leaning against his desk, and staring intently at the boy.
"Hear what?"
Draco hesitated. "The Boggart… Did you hear what it said?"
Lupin looked down, breathing deeply. "I did."
Draco sighed, turning his head away. "Everyone heard, then… I thought… I didn't know they could talk, so I wasn't sure…"
"I think it was in the castle too long, hiding in corners, in dark corridors, so it mastered echoes. He didn't actually talk. That, too, was faked," Lupin explained.
"I, you know, I've just heard those words so many times before, it's just… I thought my brain just replaced the silence."
Harry's eyebrows shot up. Draco had heard those horrible words before? Spoken by his father? He gulped, closing his eyes, listening for any single word that would reach his ear.
"So many times?" Lupin repeated, and when Draco glanced, he read the concern on his face. "Your father told you so?"
"Yeah," Draco said quite naturally, as if it was obvious what he meant, "in my dreams."
"Ah…" Lupin let out, visibly relieved, but not entirely.
"Nightmares, I should say."
"You've got them a lot?"
Draco nodded. "Too often, if you want my opinion…" Lupin gave him a sympathetic smile. "In the very beginning, it was the attack. I just relieved it again, and again, and again. Every night, it was the same nightmare. But after the first…" He had to stop, he could feel his chest swell with all of his sorrow.
"It's because it became real. The attack was, of course, but after feeling the actual effects, after fully understanding what was left of you, you couldn't escape that very idea. Far more than the attack, the aftermath is incredibly traumatic, and that's saying something," Lupin explained and Draco knew he went through the same changes. It wasn't just their bodies, their instincts, their senses. It was something much more profound. Their entire being were altered and would never go back to what it was or what it could have been. "Did you ever talk about those nightmares with your parents?"
"I didn't…" He had to look away again, snippets of memories flashing through his mind. "I didn't need to tell them anything, really," he shrugged, as if nonchalant. Lupin wondered for a second if Draco had chosen to keep everything to himself, if he had convinced himself he couldn't tell them. But given his age, his fear, his panic, he understood that he meant the opposite. It was so clear that it appeared to his parents without him needing to say a single word about it.
"So tell me," Lupin continued, "were you able to know that it wasn't real? Are you, now, capable of saying that it was all in your head, when you wake up?"
Draco looked down. Of course, he couldn't. Even if he was waking up in his bed, in his pajamas, and in his bedroom, he was waking up. He was waking up just like after a cycle. Added to that was the sick feeling in his stomach, the nausea, the sweat and the panic. He would be out-of-breath, as if he had just run a very very long distance, like he had been very active during the night. Of course, he could never tell what was going on. He was always getting out of bed, trying to keep his balance as he'd run to his parent's bedroom, horrible images in his head.
"I don't know," Draco said hesitantly and quietly. "At some point, I do."
"You're not crazy, Draco," Lupin said in the same tone. "You're human. I don't believe you're a monster. You're a pain in the ass when you want to be," he said, an amused smile growing on his face when Draco shot him a look, "but you're still a human being. And as long as you don't forget it, it's alright."
He wanted Lupin to stop saying that it was alright. He wanted everyone to stop saying everything was just fine. Nothing had gone according to plan since his attack.
They were even quieter after that, as if they thought they might be heard at any moment.
"But what if that's what I'm going to be? Maybe my mind is trying to tell me that I should… bring myself to leave them alone as long as I can protect them," he almost whispered. Harry didn't catch any of what he said, but he did hear every single word that followed.
"Look, I don't know much about dreams. Maybe you should ask Professor Trelawney about that," Lupin said and Draco sniggered. "But if you really have to ask for my opinion… I don't think dreams hold prophecies of the future, or signs from the past. I think dreams are a reflection of people's internal turmoil, be it positive or negative. I think that your mind is telling you that whatever you might be afraid to do in the future, for now, scares you enough that you make yourself miserable to avoid the fate you've convinced yourself you have. That it is what you fear the most in your whole entire life. You're not afraid of hurting your parents, am I right?" Draco slightly nodded. "I mean, you must be, of course, but that's not what the Boggart was showing as your worst fear. What you're truly afraid of is not being yourself anymore. what you fear is what you might become, not what you are right now. Not what you might do, but who you might be. How losing yourself will affect you to your core. What being like this will bring into your life; nothing good, I'd say. Pain, darkness, an incredibly lonely path you'll have no choice but to walk alone. It will take everything away from you, including the people you cherish the most. Either because you will hurt them or because they will leave you," he said.
Draco couldn't look at him, he felt a tear rolling down his cheek and his chin shaking. Lupin was reading him like an open book, like an open children's book, so full of colors he was noticeable right away, so plainly simple to understand that there was nothing to think about. You'd look at it and you'd figure it all out.
"So what do you do? You won't get attached, you won't let yourself be vulnerable, you cut yourself form everybody else, even those who care the most about you. That's what I want you to avoid. I want you to stop keeping everything inside, and I think you're starting to do so." Shameful, Draco quickly wiped his cheeks, then hid his hand in his sleeve to wipe away the tears that were now on his fingers, before he crossed his arms again. "You don't have to walk this path alone, Draco." He finally met Lupin's eyes. "Your parents are still holding out their hands. Severus too. And so do I." He finally left his spot to approach Draco. The boy looked up at him and Lupin placed his hands on his shoulders. "You told me that every day you wake up, and you wish you were dead. But it will happen eventually, and you don't have to be alone and miserable when it does. You didn't ask for this. You don't have a debt to repay. You don't have to die alone, Draco."
.
Harry was so focused, so shaken by what he had just heard, that he stepped back by himself. He wanted to leave the room, he wanted to go back and forget everything he had heard. That was so incredibly intimate. He turned and started to go down the stairs when the door opened. He turned again and, not knowing what to do in his panic, he pretended he was just walking up the stairs as they were getting out of the office. Draco came out of the room, head down, and discovering Harry as he went down the first steps visibly startled him as they barely avoided colliding.
"Watch where you're going, Potter!" Draco said vehemently, ready to push Harry out of his way. But Lupin was right behind him.
"I'm sure Harry didn't do this on purpose, Draco," he said with a smile to Harry. But Harry was focused on Draco. Even in the darkness of the room, he could see Draco's complexion. Pale, more than usual, with his eyes reddish and dark rings under them. He looked sleep-deprived and Harry wondered if he had one of his nightmares that night. Draco went down the stairs, Harry moving quickly out of his way, and he followed Lupin in his office.
"What was he doing here?" Harry asked, wanting to look as clueless as possible.
"Nothing you ought to know," Lupin said. "Besides, it is beyond what you are doing here. Let's not waste any more time."
Harry didn't ask any more questions. But he would tell Ron and Hermione every single thing he had heard of that conversation.
At the end of the lesson, and after a few failures when facing the Boggart, Harry and Lupin discussed too, Harry eating some chocolate.
"How do you feel at Hogwarts?" Harry inquired so the conversation wouldn't die out before he could question his teacher a bit more, "I mean, do you like your job?"
Lupin considered him for a moment. "I really do," he said, "and being here reminds me of a lot of good times, too." It was painful, most of the time, thinking of those years. Painful to walk in these hallways, in that classroom. To go to the Shrieking Shack, to walk near the lake. But they had been good times, and even if everything was different now, it kept warming his heart.
"Good," Harry said, relieved, "I was afraid that D- some students were giving you a hard time."
"Don't worry, one student is not going to make me miserable," Lupin said with a chuckle.
"Er- I'm not-"
"Look, I know that he is not…" Lupin sighed. He wasn't going to get into it with Harry, but he somehow felt the need to justify himself, and Draco. "We sorted everything out and it's fine, now."
Harry frowned, almost offended that Lupin seemed to have grown attached to the other boy. "He's just too spoiled at home and mean to everyone here," he suddenly said. He didn't know why it had come out this way, why he had to say these kinds of things when he had just heard how Draco felt, how he acted and why he was doing that, even if Harry didn't know the heart of the matter.
"It's way more complicated than that, Harry," Lupin said and, noticing Harry's expression, he pursed his lips. "I can't discuss this… It's a private matter. But you don't have to worry, even if it's fully appreciated."
"I can't believe you made him come around… he's a jerk," Harry said, still frowning and taking an angry bite of chocolate. Lupin snorted, joining his hands on his lap.
"No one does anything without a reason, Harry," Lupin said, eyes on his student. With what Harry had heard, he could believe Lupin. Maybe he just wasn't able to admit it to himself yet.