Hello honeys! Agghhhh please don't hate me for no updates, also warning this chapter is sad and contains death, I won't spoil it but agh I really hope you like where I'm going with this, it took me so long to decide this was the right choice, please review I love you all lots! Sylvie x
Draco had been sleeping lightly on the make shift hospital bed in Dumbledore's office when he'd seen the white azure of a patronus enter the room, in the very early hours of the morning from what he could tell. Dumbledore immediately roused from his chair, Draco realising that he had chosen to make that his bed for the night, filled with that unfamiliar feeling of being protected. The patronus was a doe, but it spoke with the voice of Severus Snape.
"He knows. Hide the boy."
Were the only words it spoke before evaporating, and Draco's mind clicked back into place as he realised what this meant. Voldemort knew he had been helped. His mother was in danger.
Draco had to stifle a yell, and he jumped out of bed so quickly he thought he had broken his ribs once more, trying to remember how to breathe like a human and not a fish out of water. Dumbledore was quick on his feet for his age, and strode over to Draco with haste, fire and urgency in his eyes.
"I will take you to a safe house. No questions Draco, no time. (Draco had tried to speak but only managed panicked mumbles) Grab my arm. Now Draco!" The stern tone shocking Draco to his senses.
After the few seconds of shaking hesitation, Draco grabbed tightly onto Dumbledore's forearm, and they apparated with a pop. Draco's white face of shock frozen in the place it had been.
"Severus…please." Narcissa whispered through her stifled sobs, her face contorted in sheer despair. They had both felt their mark's slithering on their arms, burning them. They knew he was coming for answers, and for rage. They had been rumbled by Yaxely. Unfortunately, Narcissa's occlumency had failed her after knowing what her son had gone through, and without the support of Lucius, she was crumbling from the inside. The mothers love was burning her inside, knowing she could do nothing to be with Draco, or help him. Love is beyond any magic in the world.
So when Yaxely had confronted her suspiciously about her woes, the love and pain was too strong to be shielded by her false excuse, and Yaxely saw right through them. It was endgame.
Both she and Severus were in Malfoy Manor, minutes away from facing the Dark Lord.
"Narcissa it is my duty to take you to a safe house-"
"Fuck your duty!" Narcissa had screamed, releasing her venom onto the world, feeling so powerless. "Draco needs protecting, not me. You swore to protect him, with your life Severus! Please, if it buys Draco time I would give my life right now." She was pleading, on her knees, her face glimmering in the moonlight with fresh tears.
"Narcissa, Dumbledore is with the boy-"
"If I'm not here, he will look for me and he will find me." Interrupted Narcissa again, more urgent this time, her voice cracking. "When he does, and finds I am with Draco he will hurt him and kill me after, and I will not watch my son be tainted again. Never Severus." Her deep brown eyes full of fire and desperation meeting Severus', he had never seen such determination from a mother, its power was almost frightening to him.
"Go now and he won't see you, he won't know you were here. You can protect my Draco. Please." Narcissa gripped Severus' cloak, her knuckles turning white. Severus knew deep down, he was not going to leave Malfoy Manor with Narcissa. He knew Voldemort wanted her life for the kindness Draco had been allowed and for not obeying his rules, and to hurt Draco more than any werewolf wound could. But she was right, if Narcissa left with Severus tonight, he would find her, and Draco. The safe house would be compromised, and both may be dead by tomorrow.
Severus stepped back from Narcissa, trying to find the last words to speak to her.
"Please tell Draco I'm sorry. Tell him I love him so much." Narcissa crumpled under the force of her own sobs, clutching her chest, inhaling the air like she hadn't breathed for hours.
"Go Severus!" She screamed, waving her arm at him.
"I'm so sorry." Was the last Narcissa heard from Severus, before he turned on the spot, and was gone with a faint pop. Now, she would face Voldemort alone, her family torn apart. She pictured holding her son in her arms for that first time, how perfect he was, and how perfect he would always be in her eyes. She smiled down at her thoughts invisible to the world and watched her tears land on the floor. When the second one fell, she heard the haunting flowing of a cloak brushing the floor, heard a silent breath, and felt the presence of death in front of her.
Draco waited in the dimly lit room of the safe house he had been dropped in by Dumbledore. The air was salty on his lips and nose, and a sea breeze crept into the cracks of the ancient beach house, chilling him a little. He was in his pyjamas (summoned from his room by Dumbledore in the evening), feeling strangely like a young boy, waiting for his mother to comfort him when he couldn't sleep at night. At least Draco would see her soon, he prayed he would hold her and everything would be ok, even if they had been found out, they'd be together.
Draco's grey eyes reflected the ever darkening candle light, clutching his knees to his chest, he kept glancing over to the window for any signs of life or whispers in the dark. He caught sight of the scratches littering his slender hands, blood orange in the light, and looked away in shame. He'd almost forgotten why they were in this mess in the first place.
Because of him.
The horrid beast that lived inside.
Yes, he hadn't turned himself into the werewolf.
And yes, he hadn't banned himself from taking any wolfsbane, or asking anyone for help. No, that was all Voldemort's doing.
But still, Draco was always carrying guilt around, he could never put it down, just like he couldn't part from the werewolf inside.
Draco wasn't one for melancholy, or at least he never had been. But in the past few months, he'd felt so drowned with depression that he contemplated just slipping off the astronomy tower, or rooting through Snape's potions cupboard to find that fatal bottle. He felt dramatic after the most intense thoughts passed, but it always lingered in the back of his mind – an escape route of sorts. But he still had his mother, and his father albeit in the most secure prison. So he trundled on, every day like walking through thick, black jelly, with the tiniest hope that things may improve one day.
Draco was startled out of his meditation by a faint pop coming from the beach. He shot up from the sofa and strained to see through the window who had arrived. He saw Dumbledore's white, billowing cloak with beard to match, and there was another with him, someone smaller and young but he couldn't tell who. The latter seemed to be hurry to catch up with the headmaster, and Draco could make out them rubbing their eyes under round glasses. Draco's jaw began to drop slowly as he realised who was walking beside Dumbledore – Harry Fucking Potter.
How dare Dumbledore go dragging other people into this, how dare he tell his worst enemy his darkest and most dangerous secret (Draco assumed Potter knew the situation anyway). It was none of Potter's business being here, Draco wanted more than anything to apparate out of the safe house right this second, he did not want to endure Potter's sly looks and abrasive voice – like nails on a fucking chalk board. Where was his mother? He felt like a small child, but he couldn't suppress the overwhelming need for his comforting mother's voice, and her gentle hands.
The pair arrived at the door, and Dumbledore opened it with a silent spell. Draco narrowed his eyes as Harry stumbled in after Dumbledore, looking bleary eyed, clearly trying to look at anything but Draco. Dumbledore didn't hesitate to start speaking:
"Draco, I'm sorry to have sprung this on you so quickly, but Harry is here to help and is sworn to secrecy." Draco took the effort to scoff quietly to himself, and roll his eyes a little – sworn to secrecy my arse, that little prick didn't shut up about Voldemort all year. "As you may or may not know, Lord Voldemort and Harry here have an unexplained but powerful mental connection, and Harry was disturbed in the night by dreams of Voldemort's anger about your situation. We are hoping Harry can help us with Voldemort's whereabouts and emotional state, so we can keep you safe from him." Draco didn't know about this connection, and was a little taken aback by the fact that even Dumbledore didn't know why it was occurring, or he just wasn't letting on. However, he didn't know how to feel. Did Potter want a thank you? Did Dumbledore? He decided on a curt nod to both of them, and went back to staring out of the window in expectantly for his mother. He just wanted her, then he'd be able to speak again, and function.
After another five minutes of painful, stifling silence, there was another pop that came from the beach. Draco was like a startled cat, eagerly staring into the black night, waiting to see his mothers face. However, he didn't see who it was until they were almost at the door of the house. Professor Snape's jet black hair and clothes made him invisible against the night sky, and it wasn't until he was opening the door that he remembered – he shouldn't be alone. It was like a concrete slab dropping into the bottom of Draco's stomach, and felt himself turn white. His legs moved faster than his mind off of the sofa, and he heard his voice spill out "Where's my mother." It wasn't a question, it was a demand, a demand from the wolf.
Snape was stood like stone, looking deep into Draco's eyes, unreadable as ever. It was a few more seconds before he simply said in the most gentle tone he'd ever heard from the man – "I'm sorry Draco."